#his beautiful brown eyes and his thoughtful soul have bewitched me

[kenobion]

Andrew Garfield for SAG-AFTRA Conversations at Home

[softieekayy]

In the dark of the Night

Hannibal x vampire!reader

Word count: 5.5k

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

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

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

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

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

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

She pulled back, watching him curiously.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Let’s head up to bed now, I’ll start a fresh bath for you. It’ll help you relax.” She smiled at him and patted his cheek before heading upstairs.

Hannibal stole a quick kiss from his girlfriend before going back to doing the dishes. Once he finished, he wiped his wet hands on a towel and removed his apron and hung it on the hook before heading upstairs. Halfway up and he can already smell the scent of jasmine and sandalwood beginning to drift through the air. Hannibal tilts his head up and takes in a deep breath, already feeling a bit relaxed.

“There you are my star.” (Y/n) called out to Hannibal as she got up from the bed. “I’ve been waiting patiently for you, truly had half a mind to go and grab you myself.” She tells him, Hannibal laughs as he makes his way to their bathroom.

Even at the end of the day she looks like an Angel. His beautiful angel, crafted by god just for him. He removes his clothes, putting them in the hamper and then getting into the bath. Sandalwood and Jasmine, the scent that comforted him the most simply because it belonged to his wife. He remembers the first time he saw her, in that alley way, smelling like freshly bloomed jasmine with a hint of sandalwood.

“Take your relaxing bath, I’ll see you in bed.” The young woman told her lover before kissing him on the corner of his lips and strutting into the room. Hannibal relaxed fully now, lowering himself into the extremely hot water. It felt nice to have someone care for him like this. Sometimes he let his mind wander and wonder if this is the type of love Mischa felt when she was being cared for by her elder brother. He missed his sister, his little star in the sky. Now she truly was a part of the sky. Shaking his head, Hannibal closed his eyes and drifted off a short sleep.

Once he woke up, 35 minutes had passed and his body had already pruned. Quickly getting out, he moisturized and put his night suit on. His wife, although they weren’t married legally, was on the bed, reading a book that was centuries old. She was there when it was written, hence her copy is an original.

“I thought you weren’t coming out of that bath today.” She joked, smiling up at him.

“It seems like you made it too relaxing.” Hannibal joked back, poking her side making her laugh. Sweet laughter that sounded like wind chimes. She set her book aside, arranging the pillows so that she laid down properly on them.

“Ready to sleep?” Hannibal asked her, moulding himself around the shape of her body.

“With you? Always.” She tells her husband, moving closer to rest her head on his beating heart, allowing it to lull her to sleep. Hannibal moved his cheek atop her head, breathing in that familiar scent of metallic blood and jasmine, allowing the scents to send him to a dreamless sleep.

The next morning was usual, Hannibal woke up first, made breakfast, woke up his wife and Olga, ate breakfast and then got dressed and headed off to work, he was now consulting with the FBI.

(Y/n)’s routine was the same as well. She ate, came up, got dressed for her teaching job, grabbed her papers and headed off to school.

Olga, well, she didn’t exactly have a job however, she had decided to get a head start on the wedding fabric. She knew that (Y/n) wanted something that was classic and elegant yet also wanted lace. She headed to multiple fabric stores and picked up multiple fabrics, allowing her surrogate daughter to pick one she liked the most. She wouldn’t admit it but Olga was excited, her daughter had happiness once, yet it was snatched straight out of her hands and now, she has a second chance at it with a great man.

The day came and went, by the time she reached home, it was 3pm and two hours later, (Y/n) returned home.

“Olga! What is all of this?” She asked surprised, shutting the door and taking off her gloves and coat, (y/n) put them on the couch and sat beside Olga.

“I brought fabric. The sooner you choose the type, the sooner I can begin the design.” Olga told her. The younger girl looked at Olga for a moment before hugging her tightly and kissing her cheek.

“You shouldn’t have!” She told her once, pulling away from the hug.

“Nonsense child. Now choose your favorite fabric.” And with those words, (y/n) began to finger the fabric and examined them closely. Some were beautiful crème coloured fabrics with a pearl sheen and others were decorated with gold threads and white coloured flowers embroidered. It was simply beautiful. However, the one that truly caught the young woman’s attention was a beautiful ivory coloured fabric with beautiful lace detailing and the fabric was woven with silver, causing it to have a beautiful shine in the sun and light.

“That one is it.” Hannibal called out from the door making his wife jump. She glared at him for a moment before running her hands through her hair. He laughed and shed his coat jacket, sitting next to his wife.

“It's beautiful, isn’t it.” She told him and Hannibal nodded. The fabric truly was one of a kind, however, his wife was more beautiful than any fabric or creature.

“I agree but I think that you’ll make it shine even more.” He tells her, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear and kissing her. (Y/n) raised his hand to his cheek, deepening the kiss a bit more.

“So that’s the fabric I assume.” Olga guessed.

“Well then, I’ll get started on the dress.” Olga kissed (y/n) on the cheek and headed to the sun room that was converted into her studio.

4 months passed by and their routine continued. Hannibal and (Y/n) headed off work while Olga worked on the dress, keeping it a secret from the bride. A month later, the dress was ready.

“The flower arrangements are beautiful, aren’t they.” The brunette gushed over the flowers, clutching onto Hannibal’s arm as he agreed. They truly were beautiful. Baby’s breath paired with lilac coloured flowers.

“Have you sent the invitations?” Hannibal asked the wedding planner who nodded. Hannibal nodded in acknowledgement and placed his hand over his wife’s.

“Everything will be perfect, my love.” Hannibal tells her normally, kissing her forehead before muttering a soft “And anyone who messes it up will be our dinner.” (Y/n) smiled at that. They weren’t innocent, Hannibal supplied her blood and the rest ate with her.

Their wedding date was in a week and good lord did that week come fast. At work Hannibal had made good friends with Will Graham and that man was his best man. Hannibal had friends, many friends, yet Will Graham was surprisingly his closest.

“Are you ready?” Will asked Hannibal who looked at him through the mirror.

“To marry her? Any day.” Hannibal replied in confidence, making Will laugh.

“I just went to see her, she looks like a vision come true. Now I see why you call her angel.” Will laughed, running his hands through his unruly curls. Will hadn’t only become friends with Hannibal, he also became friends with his wife. Will reminded (y/n) of her brother, one that she never got to see grow.

“Are you ready?” Maya asked (y/n), straightening her veil before grabbing ahold of her hands.

“Maya, I’ve been waiting over 9 centuries for this, I am ready as I'll ever be.” (Y/n) tells her long time friend, squeezing her hands in confirmation.

“Alright then, let’s get you married.” Maya said, linking their arms together.

Will was right, his wife to be was a beautiful vision. Olga did so wonderfully designing the dress, it was reminiscent of fashion during the Tudor period, with a beautiful ivory bodice decorated with the most beautiful blue and gold birds and flowers, the skirt was simple and trimmed with lace as well as the arms. It was a heavy skirt with multiple layers of fabric. A true Tudor wedding dress. Her hair was done up and a few loose curls framed her face, the makeup suited her well, dark eyes with a dark lip and the finishing touch was a dark blue lace choker, with a pendant depicting the goddess that she once served.

“You are stunning.” Hannibal sighed out in disbelief, still looking at his wife and took her hands in his bigger ones.

The priest officiated the wedding and they said their vows, sealing the ceremony with a kiss.

Maya cried at the Vows while Will teared up a little, praying to whatever god there was to find a love like theirs.

“I’ve waited a thousand years for you, Hannibal. I’ll wait another thousand if it means to have you in my arms.” She tells him, placing her hand on his cheek as he leans into it.

“I’d wait a thousand years to feel your touch and your love again, my beautiful, beautiful wife.” Hannibal tells her, tilting her chin up before kissing her again. They are finally married now, after centuries (Y/n) found someone to love for centuries to come and Hannibal found someone to love.

Tagging my beauties: @chchchcheni @shawty-writes-a-little @jake-g-lockley

[bakugoushotwife]

kinktober day one: daddy kink

>>> welcome to the start of kinktober 2023 with ya girl, kylee. i'm so excited to participate this year, with the following that i have, the friends i've made, and the stories we've all worked on so far. i'm so proud of every writer putting in that work this month!

>>> starring: kento nanami x curvy!fem!reader >>> cw: daddy kink-obviously-breeding kink, choking, clit stimulation, marking/ biting mention. creampie, nanami is such a whipped man it's borderline concerning, luv him 5ever >>>wc: 1.6k >>> event masterlist

the air was thick with the scent of sex and sweat, making you gasp out and struggle for breath. or it was due to the thick hand wrapped around your neck, strong and steady against your jumping pulse. he wasn’t like this often, so pent up with need and frustration that kento can’t help but rut into you like he was told he’d never get the chance to again.  his tanned chest heaves with breath, beads of sweat running in and out of the divots of his body. he looks so stunning like this, the honey blond tresses that you love to tug on so much sprawl in every direction, brown eyes zeroed in on every tick of your brow or ‘o’ of your mouth. his gaze was intense, and even if you wanted to look away, you couldn’t. not with his hand on your throat and every ounce of passion in his body driving into your cunt as hard as he can slam in. 

“you take me so well, darling.” he coos, pulling his hand from your neck in favor of pushing your thighs to your chest. he wanted to get a better angle, smiling to himself with a genuine pride as he watches your pretty pink hole swallow his fat cock, silken walls squeezing down on his lengthy shaft everytime it kisses your womb. he can’t help but draw well-timed circles across your clit, relishing the sweet gasps and moans you cry out with. your hands claw at his shoulders to demand him closer to you, and he hisses pleasantly at the sensation. 

“it’s ‘cause you’re made for me, daddy.” you whimper sweetly in his ear, and he’s almost embarrassed at how your saccharine whisper makes his dick jump, his brutal strokes stuttering a bit. your nails dig into his skin and your pussy clenches down on him again as you say it, and he kicks his pace up impossibly faster. his cock is perfect, hitting every spot just right, his girth stretching you every time, usually abusing your cervix like it is now. 

it was no secret he loved that name. loved it to such an extent that you called him that more often than his real name or any other pet name one would traditionally use for their husband–and it started way before you tied the knot. kento nanami hadn’t ever particularly felt special before in his entire life. not even amongst sorcerers. he thought his cursed technique was decent at best, and hated seeing talented sorcerers like satoru gojo walk around without a care in the world. nanami never felt like he had a role in life, settling to just live and work his life away. he would go home and watch shows or cook or maybe get into music–something mindless and low effort. maybe one day he would meet some average lady, probably at a market or bookstore if he had to say. then he would marry that girl and be happy enough. maybe even have a couple of kids while he works at that same job and does his best to stay out of trouble no matter the part of his rebel soul that desires to be known, to be important–necessary. 

so when he met you, the very personification of trouble, by happenstance, he knew his worldview had changed. you were a light he had never seen before, exquisite beauty paired with a bewitching personality and dangerous wit, he was in love with you before he had gotten your name. it was so utterly unlike him, such a logician and pessimist. he didn’t even know how you had wandered in, this location was veiled to non-sorcerers, but kento knew by the looks of you that you weren’t supposed to be there. so he’s surprised when he finds himself protecting you, knowing such a little thing like yourself had somehow bypassed the veil had him worried about you, and as much as he tried to tell himself he would be this concerned for any regular citizen that had wandered into a cursed trap, he knows it’s because he wants to be your hero, and he wants to matter in your story, maybe even become part of it himself. and you’re sweet. so darling he can’t even comprehend how quickly he’s become entranced by you. you talk to him through the entire mission, unable to see the cursed spirits yourself, you can only follow the tall man’s instructions, and clap whenever he waved you back to his side and straightened his patterned tie. 

he thought it was adorable, and even though you had no idea what he was doing, quite literally watching him slash through air with nothing but the foreboding sense of evil confirming the things the man named kento nanami told you about citizens and sorcerers and cursed energy and spirits. you praised him after, thanking him for keeping you safe. you bat your eyelashes at him, the affection in your eyes hard to miss. it was as if you thought the world of him, and it put a paralyzing grip on his heart. he had to see you again, and luckily you tucked your phone into the palm of his hand and smiled that same sun-moon-and-stars smile at him before he summoned the courage to ask for it himself. he programs his contact into your phone, but just the number. he hands it back to you, still on the contact page. you giggle and under the guise of flirtatious joking, put him in as ‘baby daddy.’ 

yeah, you were certainly a bundle of trouble. but kento took pleasure in undoing you layer by layer, getting to know you and growing his love for you day by day. the ‘joke’ of calling him daddy became a very real theme inside and outside the bedroom–only paused when in public. he finally had a role in life, the way you shower him in affection and lull that name off your lips is enough to make him feel whole, like every transgression he had experienced up to this point was a destination on the journey to be your perfect man, someone you put all your trust and love into. he felt like the most important man in the world, being by your side was the greatest reward a man like him could ask for. he had more than he had hoped for, but there was still a few goals left on his list, like seeing himself become your real baby daddy. 

with the way your tits bounce as he fucks into you, cunt squelching and leaking all over the sheets, he thinks this is the perfect time to really try. your sultry babblings of his name prickle goosebumps into his flesh–either that or it’s from your nails raking over his chest to pinch his overly sensitive nipples. his cock twitches against your spongy spot again, and a loud moan tears from your throat. he doesn’t repress the grunt that comes in response, nodding his head to the words that had been on repeat since you said them. “it’s ‘cause you’re made for me, daddy.” 

“that’s my girl, are you ready to be my little baby mama? tell daddy what you want, angel.” he says, withdrawing from your gripping walls  and slamming back in so hard your vision danced with colored orbs, mouth unable to form the words you so desperately wanted to say to him. you nod, feeling trails of saliva slide down your chin, drooling as he brutalizes your cunt. “use your words, darling, daddy needs to hear what you need.” 

“i’m ready daddy, please–god, wanna make you a daddy for real, i’ll give you the prettiest family, i swear!” you cry, the rate at which you spasm around him and claw at his chest tells him that you’re gonna cum again, for maybe the fifth time tonight. you’re so lewd; the sounds you make and the pretty white ring being smeared around by your pussy lips swallowing the adornement back up again and the way your doll-like hands fondle your tits all combining perilously to tip him over the edge.

“i know you are, love. i know, i’ll make sure of it, you know daddy’s got you.” he coos, planting his lips along your neck, going back over dark bruises and teeth marks from the night of passion. then  his balls tighten and his release spurts into you in long bursts, and he feels your pussy throbs and let a stream of cum spray from your cunt, coating his abs in more of your essence then he had ever had the pleasure of before. his smile is wolf-like, his cock still plugging you full. he wants to take you up on it, breeding you to be your baby daddy once and for all. you’re fucked out of your mind, legs twitching with pleasure as you continue to whine and catch your breath. he watches you, everything about your post-orgasm glow making his heart swell as always. you were effortlessly perfect, it was maddening. 

he keeps your hole stopped up until his dick softens, and even then he’s pulling your panties back up, kissing your clit over the bundle. he quickly cleans his stomach up and changes the sheets around you, picking you up when need be. he’s still grinning ear to ear from making you cum like that, so many times and so violently. you’re absolute mush, and because he’s such a good daddy, he’ll spend the rest of the night taking care of his baby girl.

[nspwriteups]

Pehla Nasha | Kundavai x Vanthiyathevan OS (Modern AU)

A/N:This had been sitting in my drafts for weeks... finally found the confidence to post it. Happy reading 😊

Kundavai = Keerthana , Vanthiyathevan= Vaishnav, Aditha = Adithya and Arulmozhi= Amal

Keerthana stood at the return section of the public library, glancing at the news channel in the tv mounted on the wall. She waited for the staff to return her library cards and made her way to the book section. She scanned the stacks for the book she had been searching for weeks. It was too boring for her to use the Web Opac on the library computer to get the book of her choosing. She preferred searching through the long rows of paperback until an interesting title or an attractive book cover caught her attention. But try as she may, she wasn't able to find THAT book yet. She looked around for a minute. Maybe because it was almost noon or maybe it's because it was a Sunday, there were only two people in the book reference section there - she and another guy,who seems to be in his own world - whistling an unrecognisable song and staring at the books ahead of him with hands in his pocket. She was again too lazy to go all the way over to the staff section to enquire and so she briefly glimpsed at the seemingly oblivious guy again. Her friends always called her out on her introverted nature. She wasn't really introverted, she just preferred to listen and observe others over talking non stop. She slowly walked over and tapped the guy's shoulder. He was taller than her and when he turned around she noticed his brown eyes meet hers in a look of confusion and curiosity. 

"Hello. I was wondering if you know where I can find Kalki's Ponniyin Selvan novels?" She put on her friendliest smile and politest tone. He looked around for a moment before turning back to her with an embarrassing expression. "I am not the library staff.. I'm just browsing books like you" 

She knew that. Of course she knew that but still she couldn't help but feel awkward all of a sudden. Maybe he noticed it because he quickly added "But I have time to kill. I can help you find the book". She gave a quick nod and together they went to the Tamil literature section and started digging from the opposite sections. As she searched, she couldn't help checking out her helper of the hour - his olive green jacket fitted him well and his entire body language gave him a laid back demeanor. He looked like a Wattpad male lead character with his tall frame, boyish outfit, silver chain peeking out of his jacket collar and striking brown eyes. She saw him turning slightly to look in her direction and quickly turned her attention to the books in front her. Get a hold of yourself Keerthana! She thought to herself.You are a research scholar for God's Sake! Don't act like an infatuated teenager. Keerthana prided herself in being clever, practical and disciplined -  a complete opposite to her brothers who were prone to spontaneity. Even though her friends teased her for shooing away even the slightest chance of a relationship coming her way, she never told them the real reason she wasn't willing to give her heart away. She had her moments of checking out the cute guys she met now and then (like now for instance) but deep down she was waiting for a romcom version of love - an unexpected meeting followed by a series of chance encounters until the hero says something like "You have Bewitched me body and soul" (She absolutely loved Pride and Prejudice) - that was her secret, that behind her calm,composed and strategic facade was a girl yearning for a silly and magical romance. She was snapped out of her thoughts with a book waving in front of her."Found it" He declared with a grin. She smiled and said "Thanks a lot. You were such a great help". It was true, he was such a friendly person."How can I not help someone as beautiful as you" He replied with a smirk. Huh, friendly and flirty then. "I am Vaishnav. And you are?""I'm Keerthana" She said as she made her way to the book issue section. He caught up with her easily, a book called Exploring the World tucked in his arms. So a wattpad-ish looking person with a love for reading travelogue? This guy seems to be the dream vision of many of the reader girls out there. "Keerthana as in Keerthana Viswanath? Adithya's sister?" He asked and Keerthana stopped on hearing her older brother's name. "Yes. How do you know?""I'm in the same football team as him. He always talk about you and your brother Amal. It's so nice to finally meet you" He said with the same grin as before, looking at her amusingly. Aah, so that must be why she felt a familiarity with him. They exited the library together, both unintentionally walking at a snail's pace, engrossed in their conversation. She learnt that his favourite colour is green, aspired to become a travel writer and was best friends with her brother. He got to know that she was a bookworm with a love for classics, loved boat rides and was as impressive as her brother. They faced each other once they reached the parking lot.

"So.." He began, not knowing what to say despite the fact that he prided himself in being a sweet-talker.

"So..." She also initiated, feeling the awkwardness climbing back up

"I hope I can see you around. Maybe another encounter at the library? " He joked

"We'll see" She joined in on the joke, with a playful smile and a thumping heart.

Later, when she was in her room, already pages deep in the first book of the Ponniyin Selvan series, she imagined him to be Vallavaraiyan Vanthiyathevan and herself to be Ilaiya Piratti Kundavai. Because she couldn't picture anyone else to be the flirty and enthusiastic Vana Kula Ilavarase. And the more she imagined, the more she felt as if maybe there is something about this boy that is pulling her towards him, a sort of feeling that somehow he will come into her life as more than Adithya's best friend. She placed a hand over her heart beating faster than usual at the thought of such a possibility. "Silly heart" she whispered with a soft giggle.

@ramcharanobsessed @dumdaradumdaradum @vibishalakshman @harinishivaa @hollogramhallucination @kovaipaavai@rang-lo. @willkatfanfromasia@thelekhikawrites@thegleamingmoon@deafeningflowercat@yehsahihai@whippersnappersbookworm@itsfookingloosah@gemsmusings@chiyaanvikram@elvenladysakura. @matka-kulfi. @madatdisney@bumblebeeskywalker@vahnithedreamer@nkarti@dosai-maavu@utterlynotperfect@winter-birds@happy-bookworm @tumbledout @anabanana4115 @freeunknownwasteland @bhataktiatmacore@rapunzels-stuff@celestesinsight@mairablue@rationalelderberry@existenceiswhateven@arachneofthoughts@spider5884fan11 @cara-2003 @nirmohi-premika @stella12

[malice-ov-mercy]

Will’s Version

“I’d sell my soul a thousand times over just for you.”

Pairing: Will Ramos x Ofc (could be read as x reader)

Content warnings: Siren Will, religious themes/undertones

Word count: 611

A/N: Tried to decide what kind of vibe I wanted for Will bc I already did fire for Folio, and then I remembered a poem I wrote months ago inspired by a comment I saw on Will’s Hypnosis cover that called him a siren and expanded on it for this.

Tag list: @circle-with-me

————————————————

Noah’s Version

Folio’s Version

Ruffilo’s Version

Jolly’s Version

Adam’s Version

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Enchanting and warm, a bewitching gaze caught me. Passion and friendliness poured in buckets from his brown eyes. His smile, so inviting and enticing, it beckoned me. The air around him was oh so divine and intoxicating. Clean and pure. It was never easier to breathe. He whispered then laughed. My head spun and my heart fluttered. Weightless. Breezy. Floating.

Will, he told me was his name. I spoke mine.

He repeated it back with a shining smile. “Beautiful,” he said.

The Gods above had favorites, this much I knew, for they serenely blessed Will with their gifts of charisma and beauty. A charmer through and through.

I fell so deeply and blindingly in love with Will, I didn’t have time to catch myself. Thankfully, he was there to catch me. He was so tooth rottingly sweet. He made himself a home in my heart. I would have ripped my beating heart out of the confines of my rib cage and placed it directly in his warm hands if he asked. His presence was comforting, like a bowl of freshly made homemade soup, and safe, like the arms of a mother cradling her newborn baby. I had no fear he would hurt me. He promised me the world and he showed me pieces of it I’d never seen.

Will sang me the most gorgeous melodies. Entranced in his song, his beautiful singing lingered in my ears. A tune so sweet, captivating, it infects; it lures. He lulled me to sleep countless times. His voice was smooth, powerful; hypnotizing. It was never easier to listen; it was embedded deep in the folds of my brain, on a constant loop. I never tired of his song.

I loved when he sang for me. It was bewildering how shy and conscious he was about his voice. He never thought it that miraculous or superb, but I thought the universe of it. I’d never heard such a glorious sound in all my years.

“I’d sell my soul a thousand times over just for you.”

I didn’t recognize the sound of my own voice. I sounded far off and away, like I was in a daze. The words felt foreign gliding past my tongue and lips, but they were right and true. I sensed them in my bones and soul. I meant them wholly.

Will smiled then winked. My stomach flipped, and my cheeks flushed.

Light surrounded him and shone down; false Heaven.

Illuminated illusions. Smoke and mirrors.

The warmth and welcome in his smile was replaced with a frigid and grotesque grin, one so sinister it made my skin crawl. A sudden horrifying shift in his once glimmering eyes replaced the home I knew. Will’s haunting angelic voice faded; in its place, a cacophony of nightmare inducing shrieks formed. Guttural; feral; demonic; possession. It was unlike anything I’d ever heard. Humans don’t make those noises. I hated it. Everything about it was awful and horrid.

This was fucked up.

The facade cracked. I stood rigid, desperately and hopelessly willing myself to flee— but it was too late. An unfamiliar fire licked at my skin. I was plunged into the pits of Hell.

The Devils below had favorites too, that much I assumed—and now knew, for they cursed me with a frail heart and will to be easily enticed and seduced by one of their creations.

I sold my soul to a creature I thought fiction. I damned my eternal life. I gave my blood and mind to a gorgeously dangerous and hauntingly alluring…

Siren.

I hoped I’d never have to meet Will again. If I did, I think I would still fall for his song.

[vinylsora]

crescent trilogy

dear moon,

kiss me goodnight

for tonight

i simply cannot fall asleep

not without your enchanting spell.

i met someone

someone just like you

but how can one describe

a love to one's beloved?

time seems to have no meaning

when my eyes notice you

your silvery light soothes the aches

and all the veins that carry rage

your shape brings peace to the heart

a familiar face with tints of you

greets me with his eyes of brown hues

oh! those eyes.

im lost and lost

but no thoughts

if only time could actually pause

but life is all about flaws.

from staring momentarily to never at all

ive realised there's more similarity

between you and my love, than i thought

we meet in the middle of the night

exchange unspoken affections

while you get me drunk on your beauty

but then again the distance

you are stars and stars away from me

and he was souls and souls away.

i believed that our moments were like eclipse

you the moon and me

we weren't supposed to meet

like the sun and luna

but fate made us cross

creating that eclipse.

but just like mitski said,

"im not the moon im not even a star."

i must add that i can never be your sun

for our eclipse lacks the hue of passion

but i wish, i wish i could be your star

to just exist next to you

you're there in the night sky,

loneliness; i know that feeling well

it must be hard for you

the count of your faithful lovers is great

but in your greatness you're all by yourself

thats some likeness that we share.

maybe we're all made of the same feeling:

yearning.

dear moon,

i met someone like you

please kiss me goodnight

or i might fall a little too deep

fall in the black hole of my thoughts?

or fall in love?

either ways theyre synonymous in outcome.

is it my mind playing tricks

or did you actually whisper, "fall" ?

my most unfaithful lover you should be damned

you who made me this way

you who made me feel loved

its you who made me want

want all of you, all for myself.

but then again i remember

there are billions of stars around you

and im not even a star.

it must be said that distance,

it is a terrible yet beautiful thing.

it is something that keeps us lovers

from being destroyed completely.

or maybe it's too late already?

dear moon,

this gap between us is large

but do not worry

as a faithful lover i only need you my dear

you and my darling are so familiar

and it is this gap thats protecting me

but oh to be destroyed by that eclipse!

theres a craving in my heart

but you must soothe it like you always do.

you must not let someone else become my moon

and so i say this once again

kiss me goodnight or might just lose it all

the moons bewitch me

you have witchcraft imprinted on you

and now on me.

there should be a galaxy

where you are not the moon

and i am not the one who gets doomed.

— may

[alfredosauce50]

From a past life [Yandere vampire! Romania x reader]

Synopsis: For centuries, he waited for your return--your rebirth. So when he finally learns of your whereabouts just outside of Wallachia, he rushes to meet you in hopes of becoming what you both used to be. But he runs into a predicament when he learns you're in a relationship with a man, a pesky human mortal by the name of Daniel. He'll do anything to get rid of him, even if he has to play dirty. He made a promise to you that he would find you for the rest of your lifetimes, so God forbid that he breaks it. Wordcount: 3, 813 The reader is referred to as she/her.

A trip to Romania had always been on your bucket list. Your boyfriend was just as excited to go, but he wouldn’t have been if it turned out to be the last trip you'd ever go on with him.

Today was when you would visit the highlight of your itinerary. On the Transylvania side of the border with Wallachia, and nestled in miles of rolling hills, was Bran castle. The awe-inspiring fortress told one of the most famous tales of old as Count Dracula's abode. Or at least, it was rumored to be as it fit the description of it.

Needless to say, you were dragging him around the estate to admire anything and everything that piqued your interest or served as a potential photo spot. “Oh, hurry up, Daniel! This is where he slept!” Scrambling closer to the grand bed, which was certainly framed with more wood than needed, you leaned in behind the red rope that fenced off the artifact. Then, you flashed him a wide grin.

He returned the gesture with a tender smile of his own. “I'm as old as this castle, kicsim. Let me take things in slowly.”

“You're only three years older than me. I don't think you have the right to call me little or yourself old.” Flattening your lips at that, your frown melted away as quickly as it appeared.

“But look! Dracula's sheets and mattress. Though it would make more sense to say it was Vlad's... The guy he was based on. Hmm, but that wouldn't make sense either.”

The man rubbed the nape of his neck with a soft laugh. It was no doubt he shared your enthusiasm, but your unapologetic passion always made him fall harder than he already had. “Yep. I believe he was imprisoned here. I don't think he'd be getting the master bedroom.” He appeared from behind and rested himself on your head as you placed a pistol grip on your chin.

“Even then, I can't imagine him sleeping so soundly after sticking so many sticks up people's--” Two strong arms squeezed around your waist to make you gasp.

“Ah-!”

“Okay! What do you say we go down to the gardens for a walk, hm?”

And that was exactly what the two of you did. Skipping out in front of him, you held onto his hands and swung his arms. “I'm gonna go down to the pond, okay? You can enjoy this place nice and slowly like the old person you are.”

This was the greenest garden you ever had the pleasure to stroll through, even the tea house blended in with its moss-covered roof. It only emphasized how ancient this castle really was, and something about it delighted you in ways you couldn't articulate.

“Alright, kicsim. I'll see what nice flowers I'll add to my hair.” Daniel scooped the pink blossom from his hazel brown bangs and placed it behind your ear. “When I do, I'll come get you. Don't let any vampires find you before I do.” Shooting you a wink at that, you pecked him on the nose before running off.

Who would have thought those words would ring truer than he intended? Several miles away, slept a man who was as old as Bran castle. His name too was Vlad, though he never earned such a fearsome reputation by impaling his enemies. Instead, he kept a low profile and dedicated his long, neverending life to finding someone.

Every restless night, she was what he dreamed of since her passing.

When I go, promise me you'll find me again.

Promise me.

Fluttering his eyes awake, they glowed a blood-red in the darkness of his bedroom. They drooped with a tiredness that never seemed to go away no matter how much he rested.

Sliding off the mattress, he folded the flaps of his robes tightly around his body before making his way into the halls. Every corner of this humble countryside cottage he called his home was enshrouded with shadows, and not to mention the thick coating of dust caking the top of every shelf, couch, and tabletop.

He hadn't cleaned this house for centuries. His will to try withered away through the years in his lonesome, but he was patient. Peeking through the gap between the curtains of his overgrown hair, his irises shrunk as the blinding daylight poured into them through the drapes of his living room window. He could feel it in his dead still heart.

Something had changed.

Out there in the world scorched by the sun, was something even warmer. And it was so familiar, so tender, he could not mistake it for anything else, or anybody else for that matter.

She was nearby, and the thought filled him to the brim with a joy so potent, tears of relief welled in his wide eyes. He had waited hundreds of years for this moment. For her return. Her rebirth that would usher in his own.

The prospect was so invigorating, he felt as if his heart began to beat again. He never felt so alive. Scurrying back to his bedroom, he sat in front of his vanity to access his appearance. He had to look presentable before meeting her, hadn't he? A bedhead like this and nightwear would simply not do.

Especially when he hadn't cut his hair for at least twenty years.

Giving his long locks of strawberry-blonde a thorough comb, he let it fall straight down to his lower back. With a few quick snips, he shortened his bangs by a few inches to give the impression he had some sort of control over an otherwise uncontrollable mane of hair.

As he shed himself of his robes in exchange for day clothes, a white dress shirt paired with dark plaid pants, one singular thought repeated in his head like a broken record. As morbid as it sounded, it was more of a Godsend than anything.

Death was never the end. Not for her, and not for him. Or rather, a new beginning.

But it didn't start the way he imagined. Following her sweet scent to the gardens of the famed Bran castle, he found the smell growing more and more pungent, albeit confused. It was mixed with another's, tainted by the stench of a human male. His irises thinned to slits, and he tensed up all over. How could this be?

Hiding behind a tree, he peered over the side to confirm his suspicion.

There she was, her beauty as pristine and untouched as the last time he loved her. For just one second, he was over the moon. But his euphoria was short-lived when he saw that she was with a man. Kissing him, even. Even though it was just on the nose, any further down her face would have caused him to start an apocalypse.

That insignificant, trifling, and scheming little creature. He was about to reap what he sowed. How dare he take his place? It was him she was meant to with, not that pesky mortal!

Whipping his head to the front, his eyes went round with disbelief and his breathing grew ragged. An unfathomable ache spread in his chest as he dug his nails into the bark. How could he have let this happen? It took every shred of his willpower to keep the waterworks at bay.

His throbbing heart was also weighed down with a pang of heavy guilt. To allow another soul to be this close to her was a grave disservice to the promise he made. But that didn't mean he couldn't undo this.

In just a few seconds, he formulated an intricate plan to carry out well-deserved revenge. To have her in his arms again, and him, out of the picture where he belonged. In the blink of an eye, he appeared behind the man and tapped him on the shoulder. When he spun around, he grabbed him by the neck and caught him in a trance with his hypnotizing, inhuman gaze.

“You will give these flowers to the nearest young woman you see. Put them in her hair and kiss her on the lips.” Opening his own palm, he materialized three peonies before placing them in the other's.

Unable to escape the powerful snare cast by a vampire such as himself, Daniel did so as told. “I will give these flowers to the nearest young woman I see. I will put them in her hair and kiss her on the lips.” He reiterated monotonously with his eyes glazed over.

Watching the helpless man saunter off, he smirked devilishly as he exchanged glances with his long-lost lover. This would hurt her a great deal, but she would only be devastated if he never did it.

You had been watching the pond, completely ignorant to the scene that was about to unfold. Little did you know, it was purposely orchestrated. Using a stick to prod at your reflection, you lingered on the ripples distorting it before glancing up. In the distance was none other than your boyfriend, and judging from the pink in his hands, he found his flowers.

So you stood up. You would have snuck up on him as a surprise, but your feet remained firmly planted on the ground when you witnessed him give it away, then flirt with another woman. It couldn't be mistaken for anything else. He was kissing her!

Frankly, you couldn't believe it. One year was all it took for him to lose interest? Blood flushed your face as bile rose in your throat. How could he? And during a vacation at that, too! Tears threatened to spill out of your eyes, but you blinked them away when you heard the light treading of feet nearby.

This had to be a misunderstanding. Right?

Spinning to the source, you found yourself staring at the most peculiar man you had ever seen. He carried a delicate parasol to shade him from the sunlight. Combined with his pasty white skin, it was almost as if he was one of the very mythological creatures the country was renowned for.

He smiled gently, almost understandingly.

“Are you alright, domnișoară? I have a spare handkerchief if you'd like.” His alluring voice was as bewitching as a siren, but his mere presence brought you unspeakable comfort. And yet, he was nothing but a stranger, an odd one at that, so you were at a loss to realize that all it took for you to gravitate towards him was for your eyes to meet.

“I'm okay, thank you. But I couldn't possibly accept something like that. I mean, I don't know you...” Waving your hands at the man apologetically, you took the opportunity to scan him up and down.

As if he walked right out of a fairytale, he oozed prince-like charm. His clothes were traditional and refined, but that long, silky hair of his was certainly a rare sight--rare but breathtakingly beautiful. It gave his character untold notions of grandeur, mystery, and an inexplicable impression he was ancient.

But that couldn't be, not when he didn't look a day over twenty.

“What do you mean, you won't take it? It's yours.” He pulled out a small piece of fabric from his sleeve. Placing the finely embroidered cloth into your palm, he never gave you the chance to object. “It would be rude to regift something, so you'll have to keep it forever.” Mischief curled at his lips, and you couldn't help but laugh a little.

“Alright, alright, you got me there.”

You dabbed away the moisture before breathing out a sigh.

“I'm sure you're a very nice person, but I can't bother you more than I already have. Thank you, again, Mr. Vampire.” If it weren't for how heartbroken you were, you would have been mortified. Being pitied by a Romanian local was never part of your plan.

Just when you were betrayed by Daniel, he appeared like a knight in shining armor. If only you could forget what happened between you and your boyfriend. Otherwise, you would be bragging about meeting a vampire in Romania for as long as you could talk.

“Mr. Vampire?” He lifted his head before revealing a pair of sharp fangs in a grin. Now that caught you off guard. “You don't see me calling you miss human--and I have a name, thank you very much.” As he placed his gloved hand on his chest to playfully feign offense, he bit back another smile at the sound of your amused giggling.

Despite what happened a few minutes ago, talking to this actor was making you feel better already.

“And let me guess, is it Alucard?” You shook your head. “Or is it Vlad? You can't possibly call yourself Dracula looking like that.”

He blinked incredulously, then curved an arm over his face as if to cover himself with his non-existent cloak. “How did you know?”

“That your name is Alucard?”

“No, Vlad.”

“Okay, close enough. It was nice meeting you, Vlad, but I have a stupid boyfriend to scream at.” At the mention of that, you looked like you were on the verge of tears again. “All I'm hoping is that he's still my boyfriend after this. If only he were as much of a gentleman as you.”

He reflected your distress in a frown, and you would have been surprised by how much this apparently bothered him. But you already walked off. So he offered one last niceity before you strayed too far. “Good luck with your boyfriend.”

“No promises.”

He let those two words affect him more than he intended. Needless to say, he moved on quickly to watch you run to the unsuspecting brunette. Soon, his anguish was staved off by the sight of you shoving him back a few steps.

What looked like a one-sided argument broke out, and all the poor, confused man could do was just that--be confused. Shortly after, you stormed off, and he jogged behind, desperately calling your name.

A sinister smile cracked at Vlad's lips, and his irises glowed red. That little thing had no idea what was yet to happen to him.

That night, Daniel took you to the Brașov city hall for dinner. The beautiful buildings surrounding a fountain were as traditional as they were clean. Too bad your zeal was burned away by your anger. In the few hours in the hotel before, he barely managed to soothe it by explaining himself. A given, considering his explanation made no sense whatsoever.

He couldn't remember flirting with a woman.

“I think we could share a pizza. Are you okay with that?” Lifting his gaze to meet yours, you only turned away to stare out the window into the endless night. Your spaciness was deserved on his part, but little did he know, it only had so much to do with his wrongdoings.

The eccentric local never left your mind. After all, he gave you something to smile about with his whimsical kindness.

Vlad must have been an entertainer, a virtuoso at that, but his actions never came off as ingenuine. To be frank, you were drawn to his sincerity, and even looking for him subconsciously, wishing that he could magically appear because you willed it.

If only Daniel could be just as sincere.

“I must be okay with a lot of things.” His face fell. The same sorrow from when he was at the hotel room returned, but you couldn't care to give it any attention. “Like you pretending you didn't kiss someone right in front of me because you don't remember. I'm not stupid. Who else would have long hair tied back and flowers in their fringe?”

Daniel knitted his brows so tightly together, creases formed between them. “... I know it sounds like I'm lying, but I swear to you I didn't do it. You know me, (F/N).” At this point, he hadn't the foggiest what to say to appease you because he simply didn't do it. “I promise. All I'm asking is for you to trust me.”

“You promise?” You fumed.

There was only one thing you hated more than a liar.

“I trusted you, Daniel, I really did. But how could you ask me to trust you after I talked to that girl? She remembered it, so why can't you? Did you think I was that crazily into you I could let anything slide?” The biting truth silenced him, but it was the sound of you choking back tears that broke his heart.

“I'm gonna go to the bathroom to think this over.”

He had no way to argue with you, let alone the heart to when it was just broken and crushed to a thin slab of flesh. What if he really did kiss someone, and miraculously forgot?

“When I come back, I better not see you kissing anybody again.”

Standing up at that, he watched you leave with a defeated expression. Then, he folded his arms across the table and buried his face into it. There was no way he could fail that, could he?

What were the odds of kissing someone again when he had absolutely no intention to? The chances were dwindling at zero as he kept his head down. Unless supernatural forces were at work, nothing could get him to budge from sitting at this table.

But even he couldn't count on the world of the mundane to save him.

Sitting a few tables away was the exact opposite of mundane. When the front door slammed shut, he stood up and walked to the customer with their head down. While all the men in the establishment wore their hair short, his was long and flowing like time itself. There was something other-worldly about him. Something ghostly in the way he walked.

With every step he took, his feet never seemed to touch the ground as if he was floating. And his pale complexion was just as macabre as how he carried himself.

Not a minute passed, and Daniel found himself standing outside by the fountain. With absolutely no recollection, he somehow left the restaurant and wound up here in the festive courtyard. As shock paralyzed him from head to toe, the only thought that occurred to him was this. What in the hell was going on?

Rather than sitting head down in the warm restaurant, he was out here, chilled by the biting European cold. Couldn't he have at least remembered the transition?

In front of him was the same woman he supposedly flirted with in the gardens. And judging from the blush on her cheeks, he just threw away all his chances at making up with you.

“Listen, I... I don't know you. Forget me. Forget this ever happened.” Daniel trembled, feeling a chill run down his spine as he staggered back a few steps. It was like a nightmare he couldn't wake up from. There was just no sound explanation for this when this situation wasn't sound at all. Whatever it was, this was clearly a case of sabotage.

And like hell he was giving in to whoever that masterminded it.

He ran back inside with a fearful kind of urgency. Rushing back to the table he unwillingly abandoned, he froze when he saw you marching towards him down the aisle with murder on your mind. But death was too lenient a punishment. It would grant him a clean slate, a new beginning from a past life of unfaithfulness.

So he was splashed with a glass of red wine instead.

As the crimson liquid soaked his hair, it spread over his shirt like blood. After you saw what he did, the last shred of hope you didn't know you had died, squelched out there on his clothes for the world to see. A chorus of gasps was heard from every corner of the restaurant. Unbeknownst to the patrons who murmured amongst themselves, it wasn't just any lover's quarrel they were watching.

Daniel's breath hitched as he struggled to process his mortification. Behind you stood the very gentleman that tapped him awake, but he never made the connection between him and his misfortunes.

And perhaps, it was better that way.

After leaving your boyfriend for good, Vlad offered to walk with you around the city. Once again, he had swooped in to save you, only this time around, he was staying.

“So... What are you gonna do now?” He asked, casting a tender gaze your way. Before you could wrap your arms around yourself, he beat you to it and flung his cloak around your body. When you gawked at him, he only grinned toothily with his fangs.

Your cheeks reddened and you turned away. Why he was still in his vampire getup was beyond you. But seeing his enthusiasm only reminded you that you lost yours. “... Book another hotel room. Spend the rest of this holiday crying. Maybe never think of this country ever again.”

“And I'm not letting you do any of those things.” He hummed, giving you a gentle squeeze. “Why do you think I'm walking with you right now, hm? I'm gonna take you around to the best spots in Transylvania. The most haunted ones, I mean. So you can forget about going back to the hotel.”

You sighed but managed a small smile. “That's great and all, but I'm not made of money. And my stuff is all there.”

He squinted. “... Oh yeah. But after we get your stuff, we can go elsewhere, can't we?”

A few laughs fell from your lips. His generosity really knew no bounds. “Your house, then? You do realize I only met you today, right?”

Vlad closed his eyes. He could beg to differ.

“But you're still walking with me alone. In the dark.”

“Only because you saw me cry twice today. I wouldn't be mad if you killed me so I don't have to be so embarrassed.” He frowned at the sound of that, so you added this. “I was just kidding. Something about you just makes me feel... Strangely comfortable. Like I've met you before. Isn't that weird?”

“... Not really.” Reaching the top of a hill, he stared at an old castle in the distance, sitting high up in the mountains. “There's a legend about this city. Hundreds of years ago, a vampire and a human woman fell in love. She died, of course. But people say he's still around, waiting for her to reincarnate so they can be together again.”

The way he spoke was so sad, it was almost as if he was that very vampire himself. But what did that have to do with you?

“... Okay. Then do you think he'll ever find her?”

Vlad turned to you with an unreadable expression, but there was an untold fondness in how he looked at you.

“He already has.”

[siriusmydeer]

hi Gia, love, I’m so proud of you. You deserve it so so much!!!

🌗if it wouldn’t be a problem, can you write a blurb with James where the reader wears makeup and is insecure without it, because she has acne? :(

love you and your work so much

so bewitching

james potter x fem!reader

summary: james sees you without makeup for the first time.

word count: 1.2k

warnings: insecurity, self doubt, swearing, mentions of anxiety, insecurities surrounding blemishes and acne

a/n: thank u dear, and to anyone with acne, blemishes, textured skin, dark circles, and anyone with skin insecurities come here let me kiss ur forehead ur beautiful <3

“what is it?” james questioned from his seated place on your bed, gazing at the creases in your bed comforter then over to your anxious figure; you had standing in the doorway of your bathroom for the last five minutes picking and biting at your nails, now, shifting from foot to foot while the wood underneath your feet creaked under your anxiety-ridden figure.

your heartbeat could’ve been going faster than a chevrolet from ‘79 from the built anxiety that was clung to your bloodstream from the moment james asked you if he could stay the night and watch those ‘muggle films’ you had been smitten with. both you and james had only been dating for a few weeks and best friends prior, but this was the first time he had wanted to stayed in your room overnight and before thinking you had said yes.

therefore, you had to take off your same face of makeup that you had been wearing since the brick of puberty had hit you in the face third year. the thought of going to bed with foundation clogging your pores, and your eyelashes sticking together was tremendously unappealing to your acne ridden skin that was hidden underneath your makeup.

“uhm, it’s nothing i just, i have to take my makeup off.” you stammered slowly as you burned a glare into the dark mahogany floor then looking at james pointing a thumb in a backwards direction. you were afraid i mean what if the boy that the boy that you had finally gotten to show your adorned love might’ve found you ugly for your textured skin. his brows creased immensely while diving into his mind in thought. okay... but what’s the problem?

you gaped into the same cerulean eyes you had fallen in love with for the past several years, his eyes sprouted in confusion as his pupils dilated at you, his eyes crinkling as he thought as to why you were procrastinating a simple task. james gestured to the bathroom, waiting for you to do so.

your breath trembled as you sighed in anxiety, your breath starting to quiver when you made eye contact with your reflection in the substantially big mirror, you fiddled with your fingers for a few seconds— maybe you could’ve taken it off and quickly put on some bb cream?

bad idea, if would’ve made to your skin worse. so you tapped your forehead a few times to disperse your fearful thoughts before quickly grabbing the moist wipe from the viridescent package and smearing the ivory wipe all over the ripples in your flesh.

the quick reddening hues becoming more distinct as your swiped off all the foundation along with other products that coated your face deeply. you felt embarrassed and maybe even ashamed, nobody else your age had this many pimples— normally they had a zit or two and they could cover it easily if it even bothered them, but you, you had to cover the reddening marks every single morning.

you didn’t want people to see your biggest insecurity, at first it was just something expressive to put on your face. something normally all girls did in third year or up, but over time it grew to be something so much more than that; and now you couldn’t even go to breakfast without at least covering up those pesky specs of red all over your face.

you looked in your reflection again, and boy did you hate what you saw. you assumed that james would hate it just as much, maybe even more than you did, but were your assumptions so mistaken.

you shook your head in an attempt to clear your destructive thoughts yet again, hastily walking over and sitting next to him on the creased lilac comforter. he zoned out of his thoughts, turning his head and seeing his dark-brunette tendrils swish as he moved; james was adamantly gaping at you, mouth blubbering like a fish and your face utterly bare.

you were so— so beautiful.

“what— why are you staring at me like that.” your question rung through his ears like bells, your mind quickly puzzling together the worst in extensive insecurity. placing your palms on the planes of your cheeks in away to cover up from him and his intense gaze on your face.

“you’re so fucking stunning.” james whispered, more to himself than you, but subconsciously grabbing your palms away from the apples of your cheeks and replacing them with his own calloused palms. he encased his hands onto your face, the rough exterior of his hands directly on the textures of your face while gazing at your features.

the pads of his thumbs directly stroking the ripples in your skin, the adoration in his warm eyes glowering over your face. “merlin, i don’t think i ever want to see you wear makeup again.” his voice was crooning, and murmured softly to you, he was so adamantly confused as to why you would cover your face. you felt the warmth in his hands directly on the apples of your cheeks, he felt your small smile graze your lips in his palms from the rising of your cheeks; similar pride swirling in his mind like pure elation and gratification, it was your smile that you gave only the gryffindor boy.

“i didn’t— i didn’t want you to think i was, like, ugly....” you stumbled off in humility, intensely staring again, this time towards your lap rather than the deep brown colour of your floor. his slouched figure looked at you in dejection— you were the most beautiful person to ever exist, how could he ever think you of all people were ugly?

you felt his nose nudge against yours softly, looking you deep into those same adorning cerulean eyes pooling in the cool shade of blue that you continually gaped into while timidity hazardously creeped onto your face in embarrassment of your confession.

“y/n, how could you ever— why would you ever think that? you’re utterly the most beautiful person i’ve ever seen, ever.” his sincerity spoke directly to the heart that had been rapidly beating in your chest, sorrow overwhelmed his nervous system at your insecurity. “i just— acne, pimples, scarring all that it’s not, it’s not like pretty on me i guess.” your voice was truthful while you stammered trying to be honest with him and pick the right words, not a singular ounce dishonesty in your voice.

“but it makes you so, so beautiful. you’re face it’s so unique, and makeup or not you’re still the most angelic thing that exists; and that’s factual i won’t take no for an answer.” he crooned, removing one of his hands from your face and sponging small kisses onto the planes of your cheeks, directly onto your flushed cheeks at his affirmations.

“you’re so— so perfect in my eyes, y’know some gits have other definitions of perfect but who cares because this is mine and too be honest mine is the only one that matters so, that’s my statement.” he added humorously, feeling the vibrations of your chuckle into his palm send shockwaves of your happiness through his blood stream.

“my witch, is so, so bewitching.”

taglist: @kittykylax @ronbrokemyheart @aspiringsloth20 @maddoxsmythologicalmind @amourtentiaa @msmb @five-cups-of-coffee @emmaev @serenitywilderness @spencerfuckingreidswhore @artemis1orion @famdomhideout @hufflepogue @dear-luna @luvvninaz @miraclesoflove @black-like-my-soul

if your username is crossed out that means you gave me the wrong username or your settings for public display tags are off!

[riddlecrux]

Forbidden

Day 4 of Elriel Month!

Summary: Roses and peonies blooming behind her made the scene look as if she came out of one of Feyre's paintings - otherworldly and so blindingly pure. The braid with meticulously attached pins was touching her milky nape as she lazily put a white teacup to her full lips.

He found her curled on one of the iron chairs in the garden.

Her baby blue dress rode up to her calves, one arm completely bare in the golden hue of sunset as she turned the page of a leather book with a soft hum that traveled down his spine. He could see freckles ghosting her skin as lover's kisses, a path to his undoing or maybe his salvation. Roses and peonies blooming behind her made the scene look as if she came out of one of Feyre's paintings - otherworldly and so blindingly pure. The braid with meticulously attached pins was touching her milky nape as she lazily put a white teacup to her full lips.

Her nose scrunched, yet the blush remained as she giggled at something she had read - a golden hour basking her in rays of sunshine, like a streak of lightning thundering inside his skull. Jasmine and honey attacked his nostrils when she spun her digit in one of her locks, humming.

She smelled like home.

Like a warm bed and morning kisses that lovers steal whenever they feel content - something he hadn't experienced, but craved like a hollowed beggar. That part of him was always buried deep down inside him, a box tucked behind his trauma and pain. Never to be reached, never to be unlocked. However, meeting Elain was as if the dreams he crushed behind the shadows sprung up and rattled at the tiny interior of their container.

"Lurking in the shadows doesn't work on me," his eyes found brown orbs that blazed with many emotions only to settle on longing. He felt it in his chest, a pang that echoed throughout his body leaving him breathless for a short moment. Merely nodding at her words he didn't move an inch, as if to remind himself that she was out of his reach. The thought of it squeezing his insides in an iron brand - it was hard to restrain his feelings that swept through the connection they had, a bright tether pooling between them like a self-made bridge. A howling wilderness screaming at both of them to move, to close the distance.

"As expected of my student," Azriel murmured. Her lips parted while two dimples he so loved appeared on her heart-shaped face. Yet before he decided on taking another step towards her, a flash of warning reflected in her pained stare.

The High Lord is watching.

Thick shadow curled around his neck as he tried to fight a sudden urge to shove Rhysand into his cabinet door - a looming presence of dark claws threatening to explore his thoughts, stopping him from winnowing to the office.

He is angry.

He can fuck himself, he bitterly thought as Elain quickly peered at the window on the first floor. The way her shoulder dropped made his gut clench, yet she always knew how to bring out the best of everyone so with a gentle jerk of her chin she glanced at the colorful flowers behind her.

"I'm waiting for them to bloom," her voice was small, tired. She closed the book and dared to steal another quick peek at his person before she returned to gazing at her garden. "Epiphyllum," she whispered, gesturing to a bundle of green buds, her tea long forgotten as she didn't move from her spot at all. "Have you seen them?" Her question was laced with pain and hurt, but her hands didn't shake when she leaned over the chair.

"I don't think so," he recognized roses which always reminded him of her, especially the pale pink ones or the ones sprinkled with reds and yellows. Extraordinary beauty that bewitched him, smell so tender and soft that brought memories of their shy touches and every one of their almost-kisses.

"It has an extremely short lifespan, yet many plant it to see its flowers," she explained while touching some of the leaves. "They bloom only at night," her finger tapped one of the biggest stems of the group. "Once a year," her head angled so he could see her profile. Her rosy cheeks reminded him of their stolen moments, and how easy it was to see her loveliness while she tried to overcome her anxiety and trauma. Elain always saw goodness, even in the darkest part of the world and tormented souls - that's why whenever they spent their time together, her focus would sometimes switch onto his hands. She wasn't pitying him, on the contrary, she was observing them with a soft frown as if she was studying an exhibition in a museum. As if he was art.

She said then, "Look, we match," as she shoved her palms up in the air, right below his hazel eyes. He spotted a few white and pink scars running across them, rivers of her hard work and souvenirs of angry thorns. In that particular moment, he felt that he would never love anyone as much as he loved her - the box in his chest rattling with anticipation.

Snapping out of his memories Azriel looked back at her person, only to be met with a pair of brown eyes. There were tears inside them, held in a resolution to not let them fall.

"They bloom one night and wither next morning," he curled his hands into fists as her sentence reached his heart.

"Elain," he inwardly stepped forward.

He wants you to go.

His neck snapped at the whisper, rage bubbling under his skin as he fought with an invisible order.

"A beautiful glory, short-lived yet spectacular," she stood up and faced him with a white flower in her fingers. Its petals were bright with the setting sun, almost transparent against the blue of Elain's dress. "This one bloomed early," her outstretched hand called him home.

I forbid you from approaching Elain. My. Office. Now. Rhysand's voice erupted in his temples as his palm grazed brown-haired women's one. He gently pried the flower from her and almost stumbled when she squeezed one of his digits.

"They symbolize patience," she gulped, staring straight at him. "Those who plant them wait a year to see its final momentum, a chance to see them finally blooming," her eyes held so much need and longing, yet he understood her perfectly.

With a final nod, he gathered his courage and stepped inside his shadows, leaving jasmine scented moments of tranquility and love, an orchid still in his scarred hand.

[nanamikeento]

people throw rocks at things that shine

***gif is not a visual representation of the reader***

Pairing: Ezra x female!reader

Summary: During a ball your parents were throwing, you meet a charming gentleman and discover new feelings you thought it didn’t exist.

a/n: Requested by anynomous! i tried to make this as vague as possible and tried to focus only on Ezra and you. 😬😬, this is uuuuuh something… i tried. also, my brain isn’t capable of writing perfect regency dialogue, so please bear with me.

warnings: REGENCY ERA INACCURACIES!!!!! (don’t read it if you're going to be offended by the lack of accuracy, istg, this is just fanfiction, i’m just having fun pls don’t come at me). slut shaming from a side character, period drama shenanigans, age gap (reader is of age), i gave Ezra a last name sorry! use of the word “flustered”

word count: 9.2k (told you it was long)

masterlist

The room is full of people and it’s hard to breathe with the stuffy air. The smell of sweat lingers in the room, but you’ve grown used to it. People dance to the ballad and talk over the music and over each other, making your ears ring with the sound. You fan yourself, trying to find some relief in the hot room. It’s a way to distract yourself from the fact no gentleman has invited you to dance yet. And it’s almost the middle of the night.

Balls aren’t really your thing anyway. You prefer quiet nights under the moonlight as you watch the stars, or read in the candlelight. Your favorite nights are the ones that rain and you have to stay inside, all wrapped up in blankets by the fireplace to warm yourself. Not hot summer nights, inside other people’s ballrooms, watching everyone being bewitched by your sister.

You’re not jealous of her, no, you’re not. You love her with your heart and soul, she’s your best friend. But she’s the prettiest. The most beautiful. Your parents are so proud of her and the suitors who seek to marry her. She’s not of age yet, though, not like you. No, you’re past your twenties and, in society’s eyes, you’re already a lost cause. No husband, no suitor, no nothing.

You almost roll your eyes at the thought. All of them are so old-fashioned. But you’d be lying if you say you don’t care. Deep down, you wouldn’t mind if one gentleman asked you to dance.

“She’s captivating, isn’t she? The most beautiful girl in the room.” A voice with a different accent interrupts your thoughts and you almost jump, startled by it.

A man stands beside you, golden skin, dark hair – save by a blonde patch, a birthmark, you assume – and brown eyes. His eyes never leave the crowd of people dancing and laughing, not even when you stare at him. When you return your eyes to the people, you see your sister, laughing and dancing and your heart sinks. Of course, he’s talking about your sister.

“Yes,” you respond when you notice you didn’t give him an answer. Your mother always told you it’s impolite to leave people talking by themselves, “Yes, she–”

“So, you agree?” He turns to face you, his eyes piercing your soul, “You agree you’re the most beautiful girl in this ball?”

Your eyes widen and you feel your cheeks burn with embarrassment. Looking away quickly, you swallow hard, trying to think of something to say. He still stares at you as the silence stretches for a moment until you clear your throat and gather the courage to look back at him.

“Forgive me,” you say with a trembling voice, “I thought you were speaking about–”

“Your sister?” He interrupts again with a smirk and a wink, “No, she’s too young. Too young and too naive, isn’t she? Not like you.”

The last statement catches you by surprise and you feel your face burning again. He laughs softly and bows slightly at you as a soft melody starts to be played by the musicians hired by your parents. Your name falls from his lips and you wonder how he knows it. Because you’ve never seen him in your life.

“Perhaps, you will do me the honor.” He offers his hand, still slightly curving his body.

“Of course.” Without thinking, you take his hand and let him guide you to the middle of the ballroom, where the other people are dancing to a soft waltz.

Contrary to his words, the man is polite while he dances with you, keeping his distance and never letting his hands wander on you. You can still feel your cheeks burning and even more when you realize everyone in the room is looking at you. You keep your eyes to the floor, watching as his feet lead yours through the room.

“You’re shy for someone from your family, little bird,” he murmurs, “Keep your eyes on mine. Forget about anyone else.”

And so you do. Somehow, his piercing brown eyes catch yours and you’re unable to look away. Suddenly, it feels like you and he are the only ones in the ballroom, dancing to a secret melody.

“You seem to know everything about my family, Mister,” you say when you finally find your voice again, “But I know nothing about you.”

He smiles then, his eyes dancing between yours, “What do you wish to know, precious gem?”

“Well, to start, I’d love to know your name.” You smile at last when he spins you, then catches you in his arms again.

“Ezra,” he whispers so low, you almost don’t hear it.

“Mister Ezra,” you repeat, tasting the name in your tongue, “How do you know so much about my family?”

“Everyone knows about your family.” He laughs, flickering his eyes to your lips for a second.

“I suppose.” Your voice sounds sad for a moment, but it is true.

Your family is one of the wealthiest in the town, which is why your parents always insisted on giving balls and private parties, to keep relevance in the small society. This is also why most men tried to court you before you rejected all of them. They were all gentlemen, nice men, not all of them were bad people, but… You couldn’t help but notice they were only doing it because they were supposed to. None of these men actually liked you, you knew that. And you aren’t a bad person for rejecting them.

You just want someone who actually likes you.

“Everyone also knows you’ve rejected every suitor in this room,” he says as if he’s reading your mind. Ezra smiles at your discomfort as he spins you around once more, “There’s only so many gentlemen you can dismiss, birdie.”

“I understand now,” you tell him, avoiding his eyes and becoming aware of everyone in the room again, “The motive of your request to dance with me.” You don’t see as the smile falls from his face, “So you can mock me.”

“Little bird, that was not my intention at all.” He tries to explain himself, “I–”

“Then why say such a thing?” You don’t let him speak further as the song fades to an end, “Thank you for the dance, Mr. Ezra, but– I think I’m done for the night.”

Without looking at him, you turn your back and walk away, towards your mother who’s been staring at you from across the room since you started to dance with Ezra. Your intention was to go outside to clear your head, but she stops you before you can head out.

“You need to stay away from that man, child.” She warns you, “If he’s the only one who wants to court you, then our lineage is doomed.”

You pull your eyebrows together, confused, “Whatever you mean, mother?”

“Ezra Waley is no gentleman. He takes innocent girls like you and makes them into desperate dishonored whores.”

I’m not innocent, you fight the urge to tell her, but stay quiet and just nod in obedience.

“May I be an excuse for a breath of fresh air, mother?” you ask, avoiding her eyes.

“You may.” She doesn’t look at you either as she speaks.

With a sigh, you finally leave the room, heading to the private gardens. Your favorite place is actually the maze, where you know the way like the back of your hand. You go there when you’re feeling suffocated by your family, but right now, knowing there are guests all over the place, you choose the most private place you can go.

You take a seat on a stone bench and start to remove your silk gloves, sighing with the relief of the cold breeze that blows on your cheeks. The music from the party is muffled but the thick walls of the mansion you live at, but it’s better than the loud noise from the inside. Leaning back, you bask in the moonlight and close your eyes, longing for a sense of peace.

“May I take a seat?” Ezra’s voice interrupts your moment.

“These are private gardens,” you say harshly, as you look up at him, “and if you came here to ridicule me once more, please spare your time and leave.”

Ezra laughs softly, but doesn't move, “I came to apologize,” he says, tugging at the lapels of his tailcoat, “Sometimes my mouth moves quicker than my head can process. I had no intention to insult you, my lady. I offer you my most sincere apologies.”

It's the first time he treats you with the respect a guest should to a hostess of a party. It catches you by surprise and you look back at the bush of flowers in front of you.

“You may take a seat,” you finally respond to his question, but don't look at him when he sits beside you, keeping his distance as he did when dancing to you. You don’t speak and neither does he for a moment. Then, you both speak at the same time, over each other.

“Do you know–”

“Do you–”

The both of you pause and then laugh for a moment. Ezra’s laugh is beautiful, you notice. Suddenly, it’s like the dance all over again. As soon as you look into his eyes, it’s like everything disappears and it’s just the two of you in the entire world.

“Forgive me,” he says, motioning with his hand to you, “Ladies first.”

You smile softly at him but hesitate to speak.

“The gentlemen I’ve rejected,” you start, unsure he’ll understand you, “they never really... It-it always felt… insincere.”

“Insincere?”

“Yes.” You can feel your eyes watering as you look away, “None of them were found of me. You told me that… I’m not naive like my sister, but perhaps I am. I wish to marry for love, true love. Not just convenience.”

Your fingers play with the hem of your gloves, tracing the delicate stitches.

“Why would that be naive, little bird?”

A silence falls on the both of you as you let the tears roll down your cheeks, your eyes set on the big bright moon.

“There’s no such thing as true love.”

Ezra pauses and furrows his eyebrows, “What makes you think that?”

It’s your turn to pause as you hadn’t thought about it. You’ve never experienced it and you’ve never seen it between your parents. For you, true love is something that happens in books, in the stories you read when you’re bored. While you don’t respond to Ezra’s question, he understands. As he said, everyone in this town knows your family, everyone knows your parents’ marriage happened for mere convenience.

“I advise you not to lose hope, little bird,” Ezra says, all of a sudden. In a bold move, he places his hand on top of yours, “There is true love. You just have to look closely.”

“Have you found it?” You ask, looking at him with teary eyes. He smiles at you.

“No, not yet.”

The two of you share a knowing look and it’s like you’ve known him for years. It’s like this isn’t the first time you met, like he’s an old friend. The connection you make with him is remarkable and, as he tells you about himself and his life, you can’t help but wish you’d known him in a different way.

The night goes by as Ezra tells you he’s planning on expanding his business here with a famous jewelry company. When you ask what his business does, he tells you about the time where he used to explore new lands and found a large number of precious gems that he plans on transforming into jewelry for women. You smile at that, although you don’t really know why.

It’s only when the sun is starting to rise that you realize how long you’ve spent by his side, listening to his stories and laughing at his jokes. The best part is that you don’t have a drop of alcohol in your bloodstream. It’s easy to talk to him, you noticed. You don’t need champagne or wine to listen to him, in fact, he could talk for days and you’d still listen to his beautiful voice every second of it.

“I want to show you something,” you tell him, standing up from your place at the bench. The idea rushes into you like a sea breeze and you can’t let it go.

“What is it, little bird?” Ezra stands up to follow you as you enter a secret passage between two pillars of grass.

It’s a narrow trail and he has to walk faster to keep up with you, the branches and leaves getting in his way. The passage ends right at the maze. In the light of dawn, there are only a few people left, and most of them are leaving the place, tired and drunk from the fun night they had.

“Do you know your way to the middle?” Ezra asks as you start walking towards it.

“Yes. It’s my favorite place outdoors. I go there often.”

You stop at the entrance of the grass labyrinth and look back at him.

“Here.” Your voice is soft as you offer your hand to him, “Take my hand so you won’t go astray.”

Ezra allows himself to be pulled by you as you guide him through the maze. Your soft hands send tingles through his skin and it makes his heart warm with the touch. He watches you, not paying attention to the way or where you’re taking him. You glance at him over your shoulder once, through hooded eyes and a soft smile on your lips.

Eventually, you get to the middle of the maze, where a statue of a beautiful woman is. Your hand is still holding his and you don’t say a word as you bring him to the middle, releasing his hand as soon as you realize you’re still holding it.

“Her name is Aphrodite,” you tell him, voice soft, “She’s the–”

“Goddess of love.” He completes the sentence for you. A beautiful smile spreads your features and you nod, leaning your head towards him and whispering conspiratorially, 

“When I was a child, I used to think she would grant wishes. I would come here every day for a wish.”

Ezra laughs softly and looks at you. Your eyes shine in the dawn light, and he fights the urge to lean in and press his lips against yours. How delightful it would be to feel your soft lips on his. To feel your hand on his face, his arms around you. To hug you close to him and never let go.

“Did she grant you your wish?” He asks, instead.

You pause for a moment and look back at the statue, “Perhaps. I don’t know yet.”

He smiles at you, a familiar feeling setting on his gut. His heart told him he knew exactly what you were talking about.

…

“Stupid, insolent child!” Your mother’s voice echoes in the dining room, "The only man I tell you to stay away from! And do you do? Disobey me! Should I really be surprised?!"

Her voice booms in the room, but you're not listening. Shortly after you brought Ezra to the maze, he had to leave, claiming it was past his bedtime. You laughed at his joke and thought about touching him. You thought about holding his hand, cupping his cheek, and kissing him. And you haven't stopped thinking about it, even now. Even after retreating home and changing your garments. Even after having breakfast and even now, as your mother screams at you.

“We just talked,” you say when you realized your mom asked you a question. You weren't listening, “Nothing happened, mother.”

“People saw you taking his hand!”

“So he wouldn't get lost in the maze!” You hide a smile by taking a bite of your toast.

“Do you know what people say about him?” Goodness, she won't drop the subject, “They say bad things about the women who cross his path–”

“That's enough.” Your father saves the day, interrupting your mother, “We all understand your worries, my dear, but Ezra is not that bad of a character after all.”

At that, your ears perk and your attention is turned to your father.

“He might be… A bit unorthodox,” he continues, “but he is a good man. From what I heard.”

“‘From what you heard’?” Your mother has a skeptical look on her face, “This is not about rumors! This is about our daughter’s reputation!”

“And what can be worse than the one she already has?”

The statement should upset you, but it doesn’t. Instead, you bite down a smile and hold your laughter, carefully taking a sip from your hot tea. The tension in the room is visible, you can see in the way your mother’s eyes twitch as she looks intensely at your father.

You clear your throat, setting the teacup down and interrupting the silence, “Well, this is a lovely conversation, but I’m afraid I must retire. I am feeling worn out from the party, so I’ll try to rest before starting my day.”

Your parents don’t look at you as you stand up and leave the room. You weren’t lying, you are feeling a bit drained from standing in a room full of people you don’t like most of the night. But when you lay your back on the soft mattress, in your bedroom, you can’t stop thinking about him.

The back of your right hand still tingles from the hairs on his mustache when he kissed your skin. You feel an unfamiliar sensation inside your stomach, something you don’t quite recognize. Something you don’t want to recognize, out of fear it might not be real.

The next few days go by painfully slowly, as you stay up late most nights, reminiscing the night you met Ezra. Going over what you said and what he said over and over again, wishing you could see him again.

Then, one morning, as you retreat to the library to find a book you still haven't read, your wish becomes reality. As you take the book from a high shelf, it slips from your hand and it falls to the floor. But before you can bend over to take it, a hand is faster than yours and grabs the book.

“You ought to be more careful, little bird,” the familiar voice echoes in the library and your heart skips a beat. When you turn around, Ezra is there, handing you the book. You can’t ignore the way your breath hitches when your fingertips brush on his. It’s like you’re back at the maze, with his hand in yours, guiding him through the walls of grass.

“And you ought to be quieter in a library,” you say softly. Ezra smiles, a beautiful smile spreading his features. You try to bite down a smile, but you can’t. Not when he’s right here again, not when you thought you wouldn’t see him again. To hide your face, you start a slow walk parallel to the bookshelf and you can hear him behind you, “What brings you back here, Mr. Waley?”

“A friend of mine told me the manor was open to visitors,” he says, following you close, “He wanted to see it. I’m just accompanying him.”

You pause for a moment, looking over your shoulder. And in a bold move, that leaves your heart pounding inside your chest, you say,

“So you’re not here to see me?”

It brings a wide smile to Ezra’s lips as he looks away from you, laughing softly. Then, he leans in, caging you with his body.

“You’re such a naive little bird,” he tells you, voice low and raspy, “Why else do you think I would come back here?”

A moment of silence hangs between you two, a moment where you lean back on the bookshelf, the hardwood digging on your back. He looks at you through eyelashes and the sight makes your heart palpitate as you lean towards him, slowly closing the distance between you two. Ezra leans in too, his breath fanning on your face and his nose touching yours. Your lips barely brush against his when a voice interrupts the both of you.

The governess speaks, telling Ezra the library is closed to visitors. She completely ignores the way you and he jump, taking a step away from each other. You feel your cheeks grow warm and look away from him as he nods to the governess.

“My apologies.” He clears his throat, then bows his head to you, “If you’ll excuse me, miss.”

You want to tell him to stay, but no sound comes out of your mouth when you open it; your heart still beats strongly inside your ribcage as you watch him leave, a disappointed sigh escaping your lips.

…

But it seems like your Aphrodite started granting wishes after all. For a fortnight after you saw Ezra for a second time, he shows up at the manor with a friend once more. You find him as you walk into the family room, a complaint about your sister dying on your lips when you see him; Ezra immediately stands up and greets you, mumbling your name and bowing before you. The gentleman with him does the same but your eyes never leave Ezra.

“My dear daughter,” your father says when you burst the door open, “I suppose you know Mr. Waley.” He gestures to the men before you. You feel your cheeks burn and you look down, nodding and giving them a small curtsey, “And this is Mr. Lawrence. They’re in town for business and they’ll join us for dinner this evening.” Your father ignores the way your eyes keep returning their gaze to Ezra, “Would you fetch your sister for me? I want her to have a proper introduction to Mr. Lawrence.”

With a curt nod and no words, you leave the room quickly, but not before sparing a glance at Ezra once more. Your heart beats so heavily inside your chest that you have to pause at your sister’s room’s door and take a deep breath. Swallowing your laugh and biting down the smile that tugs your lips, you knock on the door.

“Come in.” The young innocent voice of your sister echoes inside the room and you open the door to see her painting on a canvas, red and blue paint smeared on her cheek as she looks at the bowl of fruits on a small table in front of her. Your sister is a girl with many talents and painting is just one of them. Sometimes you get jealous of her abilities, even when you’re not supposed to.

“Father wants to see you in the family room,” you tell her with a weak, trembling voice. She looks at you with a frown between her brows and immediately puts her art supplies down. 

“What’s happened?” She asks, reaching behind her to untie the apron on her body.

“Nothing’s happened,” you lie, your brows softly furrowed.

“I’ve never seen you so agitated,” she comments as she walks past you, “Has mother been yelling at you again?”

Unfortunately, one of your sister’s talents is knowing you too well. While you both aren’t best friends, you still are sisters and, sometimes, she would surprise you with how observant she was. Your stomach twists as you walk with her back to the family room, the mere sight of Ezra has made you all flustered and you don’t like it at all.

“Wait.” You grab her arm and turn her towards you as you both stop at the door of the room where your father and the other gentlemen are. You lick your thumb, then presses on her cheek, cleaning the paint smudge from her skin. Ignoring as she grimaces, you huff softly, “You can’t appear in front of Mr. Waley and Mr. Lawrence with a dirty face.”

“Mr. Waley?” She smiles, giving you a knowing look, “The man you danced with at the ball, you mean?”

Freezing your movements, you look sternly at her, “Not a word about it.”

She just laughs as you knock on the door and opens it again, meeting the same men you met before. As your father introduces your sister, your eyes are glued on Ezra again. Does he remember the almost kiss in your library? Does he regret it? Does he want more?

The questions keep hammering in your head the entire evening, even when you sit across him at the dinner table, quietly slurping your soup. The tension in the air is palpable, even with your mother’s glares and your father’s soothing voice as he tries to entertain the guests. You find out that Ezra is staying in town for another month or two, depending on how he’ll close the deal with the new company. Ezra is not paying attention to one word as he’s immersed in the sight of you. You had changed your clothing to your dinner gown and he didn’t think you’d look more beautiful than you already are. But you keep surprising him each time. He hasn’t spoken a word directed to you yet, only stolen shy smiles from you, but it is you who speaks with him first, surprising everyone in the table, including yourself.

“Did you have a good tour of the manor, Mr. Waley?”

Ezra is taken aback for a moment but then clears his throat and nods, flashing a bright smile at you.

“Yes, I did.” He fights the urge to call you little bird in front of your family, something he never thought would make him physically squirm on his seat. All you do is nod at him and smile shyly again and no other word is spoken between you two during dinner.

…

The condensation of your breath is a contrast in the darkness of the night as you make your way towards the middle of the maze, the walls of grass looking taller than they are in daylight. You hold the skirts of your thin nightgown, trembling with the cold and cursing at yourself for forgetting to bring a coat with you. The excitement of dining with Ezra is still running in your veins.

When the dinner was over and Ezra and his friends were getting ready to leave, you excused yourself for a moment, only to return out of breath, just in time to have Ezra kiss the back of your hand. What he wasn’t expecting was the small piece of paper you had dropped in his hand while he held yours and the message written on it.

Meet me at the center of the maze when the moon is high.

The message was an invitation, a plea for him to come. It was a bold move, but the fear of your mother finding out was clouded by the desire of seeing him again soon. You certainly didn’t want to spend another day without seeing him.

You breathe hard when you reach Aphrodite, the statue looking more intimidating in the light of the moon, and so the fear of rejection starts to overrun your heart. What if you read him wrongly? What if he didn’t want to come? What if your mother was right about him?

The thoughts in your head are interrupted when a twig snaps loudly in the dark of night and you whip your head, trying to find the source of the sound. For a second, your heart thumps inside your chest. Would it be him? Or maybe someone found out about your little plan and is coming to drag you back home… 

But when Ezra’s figure emerges from the darkness, a sigh escapes from your lips, relief flooding your body. He takes long steps towards you and smiles as he cups your cheeks with both hands.

“Little bird,” he whispers in the dark, “I cannot express my happiness when I read your message. I had been holding myself the entire evening– The entire week I wished to see you...”

“Ezra.” His name falls from your lips as you melt in his touch, “I could not stop thinking about you.” You confess, “When I saw you in the family room, I– I felt as if my heart would explode and I don’t know why, I don’t– I don’t know what’s wrong with me…”

Ezra smiles as you hesitantly reach for him and touch his face with delicate fingers, “I have been the same, sweet bird. Your face never leaves my mind, especially when I sleep. I dreamed of you countless times since we first met.”

His words warm your chest and you feel your stomach churn with happiness; Ezra feels himself leaning his face towards you and gently pressing his lips on yours. The touch is so light weighted as if he’s testing the waters with you, giving you space to pull back if you wanted. But you don’t. As soon as he pulls back, you lean in and kiss him again. His thumbs brush on your cheeks as your fingertips travel through his facial hair.

The feeling is almost overwhelming. It takes over your entire body and it makes your legs shake a bit, but you don’t mind. All you care about is the feeling of being in Ezra’s arms, his lips on yours, the warmth of his body on yours…

Ezra whispers your name when he pulls away again, and you beam at him, your delicate fingers gently holding his wrists. When he lets go of your face, you feel the chill of the night air.

“My mother will not like this.” You laugh softly, still not believing you're here with him.

He furrows his brows and looks around, as if he's searching for something.

“I don't see her around,” he tells you, playfully shrugging. The laugh you let out is a little louder this time and you quickly quiet yourself, bringing a hand to your mouth. Ezra gently pulls your hand away and brushes a thumb on your lower lip. An unfamiliar feeling bubbles in your core, making your head spin and your heart beat furiously.

Ezra kisses your lips one more time and the word is on the tip of your tongue, but you can’t quite tell what it is.

… 

The next three weeks are summed up with clandestine meetings, stolen kisses, and quiet laughter. You feel like you know Ezra more than anyone else, which is something new to you. You've never felt like this about anyone ever and it excites you and scares you at the same time.

Then, one night, the sun hasn’t risen yet as you return to the manor, after your time in the maze with him, you run into one of the maids on your way to your room.

"Forgive me, Miss,” she says, offering you a curtsey, “I didn't think you'd be awake.”

“It's alright,” you assure her with a soft smile, and nodding at her as you walk away.

“Miss?” The maid's voice makes you stop your tracks and look back at her. Her pale cheeks were red and her hands fidget with the hem of her apron. You frown, approaching her, ready to ask her what was wrong when she speaks again, “You should be more careful with that man.”

You feel your heart skip a beat and your hands tremble. How does she know? Have you not been careful?

"I-I– You–” You stutter, feeling heat creeping on her face, “W-what man?"

“Mr. Waley. He's not a good suitor, from what I heard.”

“Mr. Wal–” You swallow hard, feeling like a young child who was caught disobeying the governess orders, “I wasn't– I was at the library,” you quickly lie, “I haven't been able to sleep lately, so…”

That's when the pink shade of her cheeks turns to red, “Miss… The gardens are not that private as they seem.”

Your breath gets caught on your throat, you feel like your face is on fire, “Please don't tell anyone…”

“I won't. But I have to warn you… The majority of the staff already know. Gossip runs fast here.” She laughs awkwardly, a sympathetic look on her face. You bring a hand to your face and widen your eyes. You don't blame the staff for gossiping, it’s only natural that they talk about the people they work for, “Miss, I may not be in the position to tell you this, but… As soon as word gets to the governess, she'll…”

She didn't have to finish the sentence, because you know. You know what will happen if the governess learns about you and Ezra. She'll tell your mother.

“Yes,” you say, straightening your back and giving her an assuring look, “Thank you for telling me. Now, please get some sleep, it is too early to start the day.”

“Thank you, miss.”

You know you still have some hours to sleep before you have to get up to do your duties, but you can’t sleep after what the maid told you. Somehow, you’ve always known your furtive meetings with Ezra wouldn’t last long. The past week has been like paradise, his nocturnal affirmations only fueled the feeling inside you and the more you spent time with him, the more you wanted to spend time with him.

And you’ve never wanted to spend time with anyone. The certainty that being alone was what you liked the most is slowly being dissolved by Ezra, like sugar in a cup of water.

But now, you have a weird feeling knowing that your mother might find out about it. It’s not like she’ll forbid you to see him, but you’ll never hear the end of it. And keeping the secrecy of your relationship with him has been so calm and quiet. You’re not sure you’re ready to let that go.

A sigh escapes your lips as you turn on your bed one more time, closing your eyes and trying to get some sleep.

…

That same night, you meet Ezra in the middle of the maze again, trying not to think about what the staff will think. You don’t mind. You’re certain you care about Ezra, those few encounters you had with him felt magical. As long as you’re with him, nothing else matters. Let them talk.

The look on Ezra’s face is different when he finds you, but he beams when he looks at you.

“My sweet little bird,” he murmurs, taking your hand and pressing his lips on the back of it, “You are balm for my soul.”

“Ezra,” you whisper, forcing a smile. You try to keep appearances, but you’ve never been a good actress. Besides, Ezra already knows you enough to distinguish your emotions, even if you try to fake it.

“Something’s happened.” It isn’t a question, he already knows something is up.

You remain in silence as you take his hand and guide him out of the maze, through the other way out. Ezra has a confused look on his face, but he complies as you take him to another of your private gardens, where you hope no one would see the both of you. 

“All of them know about us,” you tell him when you’re certain you’re alone with him.

“All of them?” Ezra brushes his knuckles on your cheek gently, trying to soothe your nerves.

“All of the staff,” you explain, “We can’t meet at the maze anymore.”

He looks at you in silence for a moment and you think something is wrong, but the question has been on your mind all day long and when you see it, you’re already speaking before he could say anything.

“A maiden advised me to stay away from you.” You barely recognize your voice, “She’s not the first one to do so.”

Ezra looks away and releases the grip on your face, taking a step back. His semblance looks defeated as if you touched on a sensitive topic.

“I have done many things I regret in the past,” he says, eyes still on the ground, “I believe what they say about me is true. Back then, I was filled with rage and greed and– All I can tell you is that I’m a changed man now. And I– I can only wish you, in such grace, will still have me, little bird.”

A beat of silence hangs in the air. You look at him and feel the urge to touch him, to comfort him.

“My father says you’re a good man, though.”

At that, Ezra looks up at you, eyes gleaming with hope.

“And I chose to believe him. Ezra, I do not care what you’ve done in the past. Who we were does not matter anymore. And I–”

You stop yourself, unsure of the feeling you want to express. It’s unfamiliar but pleasant and it makes you feel light on your feet, wishing you could see him every day of your life. Then, the penny drops and by the time you realize you’re in love with him, Ezra approaches you quickly and crashes his lips on yours and an urgent feeling takes over you. 

Suddenly, all you want to do is touch him, kiss him, be with him in every way possible. Your head spins as Ezra backs you up to the nearest tree, pressing you against the bark and trailing kisses on your jawline and neck. You feel a strange sensation growing in your lower belly, making your core pulse with need and desire. The hands seem to have a life on their own as they make their way to the back of his neck, your delicate fingers tangling on his dark locks.

“Ezra!” You gasp, the air leaving your lungs when his teeth make contact with your skin.

Then, Ezra stops and touches his forehead on yours, letting out a quiet sigh as you both catch your breaths, chests rising and falling as they touch.

“Forgive me, little bird,” he whispers, eyes closed as if he’s holding himself back.

“What for?” Worry is explicit in your expression, your hand touching a cheek of his.

He hesitates for a moment, opening his eyes and looking right into yours. His hand covers yours, the one touching his face, and he brings your knuckles to his lips before pressing it against his chest. When he speaks, you feel his chest rumbling with his voice.

“I’m leaving in three days.”

The statement takes the breath out of your lungs. You open your mouth to say something, but your head is still processing the news. It’s as if something broke inside you and it hurts, making your stomach twist in a strange pain.

“So soon?” Your voice is the tiniest whisper ever. Although you’ve spent weeks meeting each other, it still feels like the time spent together was a mere day.

“I was in town in business. And business is done,” he says as you look away, tears already watering your eyes.

“Oh.”

For a second, you’re tempted to think your mother and everyone else were right. The heartbreak of his departure blinds you from the man you claim to know so well, but you choose to not let it affect you. Ezra is a good man, you don’t care what other people say. They don’t know him as you do.

Your thoughts are interrupted when Ezra gently places something on the palm of your hand. It’s a simple chain, with a small green rock in a pendant.

“This is an emerald,” he says, voice soft as you look at the necklace through tears, “It is known as a symbol of truth and love and it’s said to be the gemstone of the goddess–”

“Aphrodite,” you whisper quietly, eyes still on the beautiful green gemstone.

“Yes.” Ezra takes the necklace from your hands and helps you put it on. Your eyes don’t leave his as he clasps the piece of jewelry behind your neck, his large hands brushing the skin there.

“It’s beautiful,” you say when you remember to thank him for the gift. But the tears are still there, threatening to fall from your eyes, “Ezra… Please, don’t go.”

The request leaves your lips softly, a pleading look on your face makes Ezra’s smile fall from his face. Holding your hands tightly in his, he takes a deep breath and closes his eyes for a moment.

“Little bird, I need to ask you a question that might be unfair to you, but it has been distressing my mind since I’ve learned of my departure.”

Suddenly, your heart starts hammering inside your chest with the suspense Ezra creates between you too. You squeeze his hands, silently encouraging him to keep talking.

“Before I do, however, I want you to think before giving me an answer. Please, don’t say anything you might regret later.”

“Ezra.” You choke out, “Why are you being so cryptic? Say what you mean already.”

A ghost of a smile tugs at Ezra’s lips before he says it.

“Come with me. I know it might be too soon but…”

Your eyes light up instantly at the proposal. You want to say yes immediately, you don’t have to think twice to give him an answer. You’d go with him in a heartbeat. Still, you bite down a smile which gets impossible at his next words.

“I-I’ve come to the conclusion that I’m rapidly falling in love with you. There’s not a day where I don’t think about you, about us and I– I know this feeling all too well.”

A pause hangs between you two as you process again what he said. Ezra is full of surprises tonight, and he doesn’t expect you to accept his love or his proposal, but when you lunge yourself forwards, wrapping your arms around him and planting a kiss on his lips, he knows your feelings are reciprocated.

“I-I feel the same, Ezra, I–” A breath escaped your lips, “I have been trying to put a name on it, but for some reason, I could not… But now I know.”

The smile that brightens his face makes you smile too and, for a moment, there’s nothing in the world you care about besides this moment. You and him, in each other’s arms, forgetting about the world around you for just one night. If it were up to you, you’d leave with him right now, in the middle of the night, barefoot in your nightgown. You’d go anywhere, as long as he’s with you.

“Will you think about my proposition?” He asks once you’ve both pulled away.

You smile at him, “I already know the answer. I would go anywhere with you, Ezra.”

Ezra was quiet for a moment, holding back his excitement from you, “Would you leave your family, and everything you have here, just to be with me?”

Standing on the tip of your toes, you press a light kiss on his lips, then another on his cheek.

“I have nothing here,” you whisper in his ear and brush your lips on his earlobe, “Not without you.”

“Little bird.” He shudders under your touch, the breath he exhales comes out shaky and nervous, but he puts his hands on your shoulders and looks right into your eyes, “You have your family here. Your home. You can not just give everything up for me. Did you forget about what people say about me?”

A silent pause hangs between the two of you as you think about what he said. You know he wants you to go with him, but he also has his insecurities and the lack of faith in himself makes you want him even more.

“Do you want to know what I wished Aphrodite when I was little?” You say, breaking the excruciating silence. Ezra looks up at you, waiting for your answer, “Someone who loved me. For who I am, not– Not for my name or not for my parents or the money they have. I wished for someone who truly loved me.” You can see Ezra’s misty eyes in the moonlight as you speak, “I know it’s stupid and childish, but I–” You shake your head, then smile, cupping his cheeks with your hands, “But then I met you and, although you did not make the best first impression, I still fell for you. Ezra, I love you.”

Ezra exhales softly, closing his eyes and leaning to your touch.

“I love you too, little bird.”

“Then, let’s run away.” You smile at him, brushing your thumbs on your cheeks. Ezra smiles back and suddenly hugs your waist and brings you close to him, wrapping you in a tight hug that makes the air in your lungs escape.

“Let’s run away, little bird.”

…

The plan was simple. By midnight of the next day, you’d dress up and meet Ezra in the back of the house, where a carriage would be waiting. He instructed you not to bring much with you, only the essentials, so you pulled an old, smaller chest that you used to use when traveling as a little kid from the closet and chose some clothing you’ll need for the trip. Ezra told you he’d buy you a thousand dresses when you get home.

Home. The thought of having a home with Ezra warms your heart and it makes your stomach bubble with excitement.

You spend the entire day trembling with anxiety, trying to hide your secret as best as you can, and abstaining to socialize with your family. Maybe it is insensitive, you realize at lunch, to avoid them when you’re leaving to probably never see them again, but keeping secrets is not one of your talents.

In the afternoon, you write a letter to your sister, explaining why you’d leave and that you’d write whenever you can. You hope she understands. Despite what people might think, you are not enemies with her, she’s your sister after all and you love her dearly.

When the time comes, you bid goodnight to your parents, taking a moment to look at them one last time. Your mother, mad about something your father told her, dismisses you easily, but your father gives you a smile and nods. Tears water your eyes as you walk away from them, straight to your bedroom.

Before going to your room to play the waiting game, however, you give a pouch of coins to two guards to help you carry the chest outside when it's time to go and an extra pouch to keep their mouth shut. After that, you go to your room and sit on your bed, waiting.

There’s something about leaving a place that you’ve lived your entire life that makes your heart clench with homesickness – and you haven’t even left yet. Things like your room and your belongings you plan on leaving behind make your heart clench.

With a sigh, you close your eyes and let yourself fall on the mattress of your bed for one last night before leaving for good.

When the time comes, you hear a soft knock on your door from the two guards you paid to carry your things. You let them in, to take the chest, but before you leave, you give them instructions, saying you have something to do first. Clutching the letter in your hand, you walk to your sister’s room and shove the envelope under the door, pressing a palm on the wooden material and exhaling softly.

You wish you could knock on the door and kiss her goodbye. But you don’t have time. For now, a letter will do. You’ll write to her once you’re settled in your new home.

When you turn around to leave, you collide with someone, though. Your father.

Oh, no.

“Father–” You mumble, hands trembling, “I–”

“Save your lies, girl.” He interrupts you with a stern voice that makes you tremble, “My office. Now.”

You don’t have time for this, you have to meet Ezra in the back gardens soon. But you obey your father, following him to his office, the place where you’re sure he’ll give you a lecture and stop you from running with Ezra. You wonder how he found out. Maybe the money wasn’t enough to buy the guards’ silence.

But you’re taken off guard when you see Ezra standing in the room. Your eyes widen and your breath gets caught in your throat. Did your father find him in the gardens? Did someone tell him he was waiting for you?

“Little bird,” he mumbles quietly as you enter the room with a confused look. You can see that he wants to say more, but your father starts speaking.

“I was ready for a perfect night of sleep, after a long day in the offices, after all, it’s all a working man wishes, but imagine my luck when none other than Mr. Ezra Waley showed up at the manor telling me about a plan to elope with my eldest daughter.”

Your eyes widen and your gaze turns to Ezra, a confused look in your eyes. It couldn’t be. Ezra wouldn’t betray you like this, he couldn’t. But as the guilty look falls on his face you realize it’s true. Ezra told you off. Your heart clenches at the thought of it.

What changed? He told you he loved you… Was it a lie or he simply just changed his mind? Maybe your mother was right after all.

“Tell me, daughter, is this true?” Your father asks and it takes a minute for you to return your gaze to him, eyes filled with tears.

“Yes.” A weak sound you don’t recognize as your voice leaves your lips, “Yes, it is.”

A silence hangs in the room as your father leans back on his chair, watching your eyes glimmering with tears. He knows you well, he knows you have things to say, so he’ll sit and wait until you say what’s in your mind. Ezra risks taking a look at you, pain written across his face as he sees the tears rolling down your face.

“Little bi–”

“Shut your mouth.” The words drip like venom from your lips, “How could you?” Your voice trembles, but you still refuse to look at him, “How could you lead me to believe you reciprocated my feelings and then betray me like this?! Break my heart into a million little pieces and stand here as nothing has happened?!”

When you finally look at him, you see the hurt in his expression. The face you adore so much scrunched in pain, eyes glossy with unshed tears.

“I–” He hesitates, aware of the authority in the room, your father, “I couldn’t let you come with me, little bird, not if it’d bring dishonor to your family.”

You feel your face fall and a frown resurges between your brows, a confused look taking over.

“While I was waiting for you at the carriage, a feeling took over me.” Ezra continues, “I couldn’t snatch from your house, from your family, not without a warning. I am true to my feelings, though. I know I love you like I’ve never loved anyone, but I must do the right thing. So I came to ask your father for his blessing. To beg for it.”

The confession makes your heart warm and a feeling of shame takes over you. You shouldn’t have doubted him or his love, you shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions. Your face feels warm as you look away and meet your father’s gaze once more. The look he gives you is one you know.

In the end, it wasn’t your mother who was right. It was your father.

“Ezra…” You whisper softly.

“I would never betray you, my love.” He approaches you, reluctantly taking your hands in his, “Still, if your feeling towards me had changed in the last few minutes, I’ll understand. I’ll leave and you’ll never hear of me again.”

You feel his grip on your hands loosen and you grab them tightly, holding them in place, “No. No, Ezra, they haven’t.”

Then, you look at your father again, eyes begging in your silence, knowing he’ll understand it. The older man sighs, leaning over his wooden desk with his elbows.

“Are you sure you love him, my dear?” He asks in a soft voice, the voice he used to read you bedtime stories when you were little.

“Yes, father. As sure as I’m standing here.”

He sighs again, leaning back on the chair and lacing his hands over his stomach, “Your mother will never approve of this.”

With a pout, you make a show of looking around the room, “Well, I don’t see her around.”

Ezra’s eyes widen before he laughs softly at the stolen comeback. Even your father smiles as you say it, bold and confident. A few seconds of tension pass in silence as the oldest man in the room eyes you two, but takes a little longer staring at Ezra. It’s like they have a silent conversation with just one look before your father speaks.

“Then go.”

Your heart bursts with happiness as you show him the brightest smile you’ve ever smiled. Throwing yourself over the table, you give him a quick hug, along with a thank you and a promise that you’ll write. Ezra gives him a nod in gratitude before you grab his hand and leave the room, running and leaving your life behind.

…

The cold breeze from the night gives you shivers on your skin as you sit down on the porch stairs to appreciate the night sky. The lanterns from the wooden porch are the only source of light in the backyard of Ezra’s house – your home. You close the cloak around you tightly, trying to stop the gelid breeze to infiltrate the fabric of your clothes. Not long after you sit down, you hear footsteps behind you and, soon enough, a warm chest touching your back, long legs on the side of yours, and strong arms snaking around you.

Ezra leans his chin on your shoulder as he speaks, “And what is my lovely wife doing out here in the cold, all by herself?”

It brings a smile to your face as you lean the back of your head on his shoulder, “Just appreciating the darkness. It was a night just like this when we met.”

“Was it, now? I wouldn’t remember. Someone kept my eyes busy that night.” He teases, fingers squeezing the sides of your torso. You squeal lightly and giggle, biting your bottom lip as you look at his warm brown eyes.

“It’s been a year already,” you whisper, touching his face. The scruff on his skin tickles the palm of your hand as usual.

“Yeah?”

You nod in silence, taking in every detail of his face. A year since you met the love of your life. And several months since you ran away with him. You couldn’t be happier to wake beside the best man in the world every morning. To get to see him every day, not only in the dark, hidden from everyone. You’re truly living the dream.

“I love you, Ezra,” you tell him, sighing and closing your eyes. You clutch the little green emerald on the chain around your neck, smiling as he responds.

“I love you too, little bird.”

And you thank Aphrodite for finally granting your wish.

............

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[restlessmaknae]

no barriers

➳ Xiao Dejun decides to study abroad for a semester in Seoul, and even though he initially sucks at Korean, there’s no (language) barrier between you two.

♦ Pairing: uni student!Xiaojun x uni student!reader/you

♦ Genre: fluff, comedy, slice of life, uni au

♦ Words: 7.7k

♦ Warning: -

♦ 99 liners’ uni stories: Yukhei / Mark / Hendery / Xiaojun

♦ Click here to be added to the TAGLIST and to let me know about your fic preferences.

“And this song is for all the lonely souls out there! Grab the guy or girl beside you, hop onto the dancefloor and dance as if there’s no tomorrow!”

The DJ’s over-the-top behaviour was slowly getting on your nerves, and his fabricated descriptions about the otherwise rather shallow songs he put on were giving you a headache. Maybe if your friend hadn’t abandoned you the first time a handsome guy had asked her to dance, you would have been in a better mood, but you felt bad enough for yourself listening to the tenth song that you absolutely despised, let alone the fact that you still couldn’t hate your friend for ditching you for a guy because after all, you should have known that it was her definition of fun. Yet, when you had decided to give in to her prompting to attend the uni party at Club Vera, you wouldn’t have thought that you would end up by yourself after about half an hour, watching as the bubbles in your carbonated drink popped off, and trying your best to seem as intimidating as possible because you didn’t want to talk to anyone.

Truth to be told, you had never been the partygoer type. In fact, it was your first ever university party (and you were in your fourth semester already), and it was your second party in your whole life after that rather interesting senior year party at your class president’s house that had been more like a summer camp when you had been 14 aka no alcohol, no heavy dancing, no questionable activities. You had ended up talking to the said classmate’s mother about the dishes she had prepared because you had seemed to be the only one who had actually paid attention to her efforts. So yeah, you wouldn’t have actually called that a party either, but your parents hadn’t wanted you to miss the opportunity to see your classmates for the last time, so you had gone in the end.

Thus, technically speaking, it was your first ever real party, and you had already seen more drunk and tipsy people than you would have liked to do so, and you had already encountered more guys who would have wanted to hit on you than you would have ever expected.

So when another boy came your way, undeniably giving you hungry looks, you pushed yourself off the counter, and headed out of the club. You were fed up with the sweaty bodies, the loud music and the unsettling feeling in your stomach that maybe it was your fault that you couldn’t enjoy such opportunities.

You welcomed the fresh air outside of the stuffy place with a subtle smile, and you sucked in a few deep breaths before you started walking back to the bus stop. You reached into your bag to get a hold of your earphones, ready to block out the noise of the outside world with your favourite songs, but a gentle male voice made you halt in your steps.

“Excuse me…” He started in a polite manner, his tone hopeful rather than seductive, so you looked up at him curiously, wondering what he might want from you.

Yet, when you caught his eyes, you were bewitched for a second, and your lips slightly parted in awe. It wasn’t just the fact that he was drop dead gorgeous with his messy chocolate-brown locks, his mesmerizing jet-black eyes, his defined features, the elegant arch of his eyebrow and his dimples, but his half-nervous, half-friendly smile was so beautiful, you nearly gasped.

“Yes?” You found yourself saying, although you had no idea how you managed to get those few letters out. You knew you should be pulling yourself together because a beautiful exterior could hide a rotten interior, but you felt as if you had been struck by lightning, finding yourself gifting him with a smile.

“Could you tell me how I can get to Club Vera? Am I in the right direction?”

And then, reality kicked you in the butt in that moment, and all of your dreamy thoughts were thrown out of the window right in that instant. Sure, he must be going to the same party as you had done so, and he might be lost because he had never been there just like you. What else were you waiting for? Jeez, you must have watched too many kdramas to think that it could have been love at first sight, and he could have said that he knew you were the one the moment he had laid his eyes upon you. Gosh, even the thought made you cringe now that you were back to reality.

“Yeah, you’re almost there. Just turn right at the corner, and you’ll see the sign immediately,” you instructed him as you pointed at the said corner.

“Right?” The boy asked back while signalling a right turn with his hands, and you nodded. He might not have caught that part, but you repeated yourself nevertheless. His whole face lit up when you did so, and you were already glad that you decided to help him out.

“You might have to wait a bit. The place is full right now, and they might not let you in immediately,” you let him know kindly before he had his hopes up high, and he furrowed his eyebrows in question. You looked back at him expectantly, wondering if he was willing to share why he looked so perplexed.

“Wait?” he repeated, blinking in confusion.

“Yeah,” you emphasised. You knew you didn’t have the best socialising skills, but you started to feel uncomfortable in your skin, so you decided to explain the situation to him in a different way. Maybe it would be his first party, and he didn’t know how such things worked. “The guards at the entrance don’t let you in if the place is full. You need to wait for someone to come out.”

The boy let out a giggle after your explanation, and you were almost sure that he would say that he had misunderstood you, but what he said was totally different from what you had expected.

“I’m sorry. I can’t speak Korean well. I’m Chinese,” he reasoned, keeping up his light and casual tone. Your hand flew to your mouth in surprise, but that bewilderment was soon overtaken by guilt, and suddenly, you felt so stupid for throwing random sentences at him instead of just letting him go on his way. Gosh, why did you need to make him feel uncomfortable? The first time you had dared to say something more to a stranger than it was absolutely necessary, and here’s the outcome. Great!

“I’m so sorry. English then?” You switched to English a bit awkwardly, but he nodded, his lips curling upwards.

“Yeah, that’s better. My English is a lot better,” he remarked, still smiling. He didn’t seem to mind your behaviour which was just unbelievable because you were sure that you would have been inwardly panicking if the same had happened to you. Even though you were really good at English because you were an English major, you had never learned Chinese, and your Japanese knowledge was limited, so if he had talked to you in Chinese, you would have definitely not understood a word.

You stood there for a few seconds, him still smiling at you as if he had been looking at something heartwarming, and that thought alone made your knees go weak. You cleared your throat, trying to appear less affected than you actually were, and said:

“Yeah, so the thing is, the club is full, so you might need to wait a bit when you get there. You can only go inside if someone comes out and the guards at the entrance let you in.”

“Ah, I see.” He bobbed his head, not at all fazed by the news. “Is the party bad? That’s why you’re leaving?” he inquired as he tilted his head to the side, and it was rather cute. Gosh, he was cute!

“Oh well…” You let out an awkward giggle, now knowing how much to say to a random stranger. You played with a stray lock of hair that escaped your ponytail, and pushed it behind your ear when you made up your mind to tell him the truth. “I’ve come with a friend, and she found a boy for herself, so I was left alone. I didn’t like the songs that they were playing either, so I’ve decided to leave. You might enjoy it though. I’ve just never been the party type.”

The Chinese boy’s radiant smile didn’t fade with your confession, he seemed rather grateful that you were honest with him, amusement bathing in his jet-black orbs. However, as he was about to open his mouth, your stomach rumbled, reminding you of the fact that you hadn’t yet had dinner because you had assumed that the club had more to offer than a handful of nuts put on the counter. You got it, it was a club, but you hadn’t eaten before coming here because you hadn’t calculated with the lack of food options.

Awkward as it was, it was your own fault, and you were probably not going to meet this boy again, so you were just trying to survive looking him in the eye without fainting while he was smiling at you, and it would be fine. It should be fine… So why did you want the ground to swallow you up?

“Are you hungry?”

“Yes, quite,” you admitted nevertheless. There was no need to deny it, and you could grab something on your way back to the dorms, it was fine.

“Wanna have something with me?” The boy asked out of the blue, and it would be an understatement to say that you were shocked. You were utterly shocked. You felt a blush creeping onto your face.

“But you were going to the club,” you pointed out, trying to tone down the nervousness in your voice. Gosh, why did you want to say yes to him so bad? You didn’t even know him. Maybe it was in the way he oh so casually carried himself, oozing a friendly, homey, cosy vibe. Or maybe it was in the way his voice was full of warmth, joy and life. Or maybe it was in the way his smile was blinding, making your legs go weak. Or maybe it was all of it combined.

“I can still go there after having dinner.”

“Yeah, right.” You nodded after he had shrugged his shoulders casually as if it had been an everyday thing for him that he would have dinner with total strangers.

He probably caught onto your slight hesitance because he let out another wholehearted laughter.

“Believe me, I’m not a psychopath, and I’m not working for the Chinese mafia. I really don’t know this area, so I can’t even kidnap you,” he justified playfully, and the more he talked, the more you felt laughter bubbling up inside of you. You felt your shoulders drop in relief, letting your guards down. You had a feeling that you could really trust him, so you gave in, leading him the way to a nearby tteokbokki place.

You had been in the area before to visit an art cinema, so you had known this neighbourhood, but not that many places to give him an extensive list of food places to choose from. Yet, he didn’t mind having tteokbokki, he even added that he had tried it already, and he had enjoyed it. While you were waiting for the food to arrive, you asked why he was going to Club Vera, and he told you that he was on an exchange programme, so he was spending this semester at your university. He was supposed to go and meet a few other exchange students at the club, but he reassured you that he was fine like this because he had already met the others, and he liked meeting new people.

You felt a flush of warmth lighting up your face at the way he said those words, but decided to ask him about the reason he had chosen Seoul out of all places, letting the way he spoke soothe your nerves. There was just something very easy-going about the way he elaborated his responses, and you felt like you could listen to him speak for hours because he had a gentle, honey-like voice. He talked about his love for music, and how he thought that a semester abroad would benefit him because different people saw music in a different light, and he wanted to see how Korean people viewed classical music when they were known for their own unique music industry.

He could have been a cute stranger, but he had to be a cute stranger who knew how to play the guitar and the piano, and he had to have an adorable puppy named Bella back home, and he didn’t stop there! He was funny and casual yet smooth and a bit flirty, and you had a feeling that your face resembled a torch the whole time because you were either blushing or laughing, and neither helped with the state of your cheeks. You were just so not used to having boys around, let alone boys like him who were characters out of a kdrama. Except the fact that he didn’t really speak Korean, but you meant the cute, sweet type that you wouldn't believe exists.

You talked so much that you seriously questioned if your carbonated drink hadn’t contained any alcohol because you were usually not this talkative, but something in him prompted you to share bits and bobs about yourself, so you did. Maybe it was the fact that you knew that you might not see him again that helped to lift the weight off of your shoulders. You could say anything embarrassing, he might not even remember it the next week.

After you had finished your spicy rice cakes, you were ready to say goodbye to him, especially because it was getting late, but he caught you off guard yet again.

“I’ll accompany you to the dorms,” the guy who introduced himself as Xiaojun mentioned as he flashed a toothpaste commercial-worthy smile at you, and you felt your heart leap.

“But you still haven’t gone to Club Vera,” you insisted, confusion written all over your features. The boy let out an airy laughter, something that was similar to the warm breeze that wafted through the branches of trees when spring just began.

“I can go another time, but I’m afraid you’ll run away if I let you go now,” he responded cheekily, raising an eyebrow in question as he was waiting for your reaction. Your breath was caught in your throat for a moment because you were really, really not used to casual guys like him, but you cleared your throat a bit later.

“What makes you think I will?”

“Your cheeks say it all,” Xiaojun just had to call you out on your obvious blushing, and even if you wanted to deny it, you couldn’t. You were uncontrollably blushing beside him, but whose fault was that?

Your eyes darted around your surroundings (anywhere but his face), not knowing what to say or what to do. The crazy thumping in your ribcage didn’t help either, and the familiar warmth was yet again invited onto your cheeks, so you were helpless. You tried to pacify your heartbeat alongside your undulating feelings, but he didn’t help at all when he was smiling that charming smile of his.

“Let’s get going! It’s getting late,” Xiaojun prompted with a lopsided smile, and you gave in without hesitation, glad that you could finally do something with yourself.

Under other circumstances, you might have felt uncomfortable heading back to the dorms with a boy by your side, but Xiaojun just made everything seem so natural that you found yourself loosening up again. You realised that he felt so cosy and homey because he didn’t force any topic onto you, but he liked sharing stories about his life and how he had gotten here, what culture shocks had he experienced and how he had already been to the dorms because he had randomly made friends with a Chinese guy who studied biochemistry.

“For real, I was just standing in the queue in front of the vending machine at one of the uni buildings, and I was talking on the phone with my mum about how I’ve been settling in. And then, when we finished talking, this guy came up to me, and said that he’s also Chinese, and that he hopes everything is really fine, but if not, I can just call him anytime. So we’ve exchanged numbers,” Xiaojun recalled the scene with a lighthearted giggle, and you weren’t sure what was cuter: his giggle or his smile. You liked both.

He talked a bit more about this so-called Hendery and his equally funny dorm flatmates, but before you knew it, you arrived at the dorms, and since you really had nothing to offer to him, and it would have seemed really odd inviting him inside, you stood by the entrance awkwardly, not knowing how to say goodbye. Xiaojun was way better at this than you anyway.

“Would you like to exchange numbers? I have a Kakaotalk ID, too,” he suggested with a wide smile, and gosh, you had never known what was so special about exchanging numbers with a boy, but now you knew.

“Sure.” You nodded, smiling shyly, and no matter what people said about being cautious of strangers, this stranger turned out to be so much more than just a lost puppy in the heart of this buzzing city. He became the first boy who had gotten your number, and the first one who made your heart flutter, so you bid your goodbye to him after exchanging numbers, and your coy smile was plastered onto your face even when you fell onto your bed.

You realised that it would have been weird if you had agreed on meeting with a boy whom you had just met, but despite only having one encounter with Xiaojun, you didn’t feel as if he had been a mere stranger. Not because you knew so much about him, but because he was so casual that you felt like you were invited into his life the moment he had decided to ask you for directions.

Since he was a music major, you suggested visiting your favourite music store in the city, and after confirming that he hadn’t been there before, you agreed on meeting at a bus station from where you knew the way on foot.

The way to the music store was just like last time: you definitely blushed a lot and you definitely felt like your heart could melt whenever you caught sight of his smile or whenever you heard his laughter, but at the same time, you felt at ease beside him because he was so friendly and kind and funny. Oh gosh, were you having a crush on a boy? You had a feeling that you were. Oh boy…

The walk wasn’t that long, so you didn’t have a lot of time to talk because once you were inside, you showed him around the different sections in the store. What you loved about this particular place was the fact that it was doing more than just selling CDs. There was a whole corner where you could see how music producers made music, and you could try it out for yourself. There was a corner for analog music player devices where you could listen to music tapes and vinyl records just like the previous generations had done so. Not to mention the little booths where you could sit down, draw the curtain on yourself and listen to anything while wearing headphones that really blocked out every sound from the outside. It was like a little haven for you, so you decided to lead Xiaojun there after he had gotten enough of the other parts of the store.

As you sat down on the bench in the little booth, you realised how unfamiliar it was that you had someone with you this time, but you didn’t mind. You prompted him to show you his favourite classical music piece, and when he did so, you listened to it through the headphones while he was waiting for your reaction.

It was definitely different from what you usually listened to since it was mainly led by a piano and other instruments from an orchestra. You were used to lyrics-based songs, but you noticed that the melody was amplified now that you didn’t have to concentrate on the voices of the singers, and it felt like you were invited on a journey as you listened to this particular piece. It was almost easy to get lost into it, and be taken aback when it came to an end.

“What do you think?” Xiaojun inquired with a curious albeit nervous smile after you had slipped the headphones off.

“It was soothing. I feel like I could listen to this while studying, and it would help me concentrate,” you admitted sincerely, and his lips curled upwards, his dimples deepening. You felt yourself smiling along with him, his happiness contagious.

“Most people say it’s boring, so I’m glad. I’m glad that you like it,” he explained as his eyes twinkled with joy, the crescent-like orbs swimming in the sea of his gratitude. You felt a rush of warmth going through your body as you realised that you were the reason for that smile of his, and somehow it felt even more personal now. As if it had been a secret kept hidden in a wooden box somewhere deep inside your heart.

“Ah, I’m pretty sure you think that what I listen to is boring,” you chirped in half-jokingly, but he took your words seriously, and prompted you to prove him wrong:

“Well, try me!”

You raised an eyebrow out of confusion, yet he didn’t back away, nor did he take back his words, so you gave in, searching for your favourite ballad that you listened to a lot these days. You reached the headphones out to him after finding that particular song, and as he reached for it, your hands brushed for the shortest fraction of a moment. It was enough for you to feel electrified, and for him to turn his smile into a cheeky one because he knew, oh he knew well just what kind of an effect he had on you.

That’s why you were almost ready to talk him out of listening to your favourite song because it was quite personal, but his smile melted your worries, and you could only search for the tiniest bit of disapproval or disgrace in his eyes that never came in the end. Xiaojun’s lips did curl downwards, but he didn’t look displeased, he looked rather comforted as he was listening to the song.

Once he was done, he slid the headphones onto his neck, and turned to you, eyes painted with curiosity, resembling the night sky with their jet-black shade. Something so dark could still be so light and warm, and even without a smile, you could feel his empathy and understanding.

“It’s beautiful! How could I think it’s boring?”

“I don’t know.” You shrugged a bit hesitant, suddenly unsure how to put your opinion into words when he looked at you as if he had known exactly how you felt, and he was willing to accept you with it, too. “I just think those who can’t relate to the lyrics think that it’s boring.”

There it was, the unsaid confession now unravelling both in front of your eyes, and you were so scared that you had gotten too personal too fast that you were about to tell him to forget about it when he caught you by surprise.

“I can relate though. Even if I’m extroverted and like meeting new people, sometimes I feel like I don’t know anyone that well because I know so many people on a surface level. Usually, I don’t mind, but sometimes this feeling hits that I’m never the best friend, the one people would turn to, and I feel down,” Xiaojun confessed confidently, his voice not wavering with remorse or guilt. He spoke eloquently as if he had been perfectly at peace with his feelings and vulnerabilities, and the way you caught his eyes that shone even brighter than before, your heart knew that he was being honest. That prompted you to be honest with him, too.

“For me, it’s because it’s difficult for me to make friends in the first place, and I’m afraid people would get tired of waiting for me to open up and trust them, so they make best friends before they would become close with me. The same happened at university with the girl I’ve mentioned,” you let him know, referring to the friend of yours who had left you at the party because of a boy. You didn’t hold a grudge against her for what had happened because at least that had led you to meet Xiaojun, but it was true that she wasn’t your best friend. She had been talking about another girl as her best friend, so you didn’t feel like you had the right to get closer to her just as well.

You wouldn’t say that you were lonely after life had turned out this way because you were fine when you were on your own, but just like the boy had said, sometimes this feeling of not being wanted hit you, and the waves suddenly crashed above your head as if everything had pointed in the wrong direction.

“Who do you turn to if something bothers you?” Xiaojun broke the momentary silence, his voice silky and gentle. There was no room for accusations, so you knew you could be honest with him this time as well.

“My brother.”

“Well, your brother can be your best friend. It doesn’t have to be anyone else,” he pointed it out gently, his words playing on your heartstrings. You had never really thought that you could feel so understood by someone whom you had met only a few weeks ago, but Xiaojun had seemed to prove you wrong again and again. “Thank you… for opening up to me,” he added a bit coyly, but his solemn state only made you more sure that he was as sincere as one could be.

“You did it first. I just… I think I just got brave because of you,” you confessed equally shyly, and the gaze you shared held many more feelings than just the ones you could describe for it was a start of something new, the beginning of bloom and the first building block of trust between you two, between the present and the future, between the whatifs and the conscious decisions of letting him in.

You didn’t consider yourself a very outgoing person. You were the definition of an introvert; you enjoyed your time being alone, snuggled up in your bed, your head buried into a book, or your headphones on to block out the outside world. Therefore, you hadn’t seen a lot from Seoul, or at least not as much as others who had come to the capital city for their university studies, and they had checked out every Instagram-worthy place or uni party.

However, Xiaojun was an exchange student, and he was keen on seeing as much from the country as possible, and whenever he suggested visiting something, you didn’t have the heart to say no. How could you when he was bombarding you with funny memes, photos of his puppy sent by his family back home, supportive messages whenever you were working on an assignment, and random classical musical recommendations now that you had let him know that you had enjoyed his favourite piece?

So whenever your uni schedule and your time allowed you, you accompanied him to places he wished to visit, and despite that evil voice in your head telling you that he must have wanted to visit these places with his other friends too, he told you clearly and sincerely that he hang out with others just as well, but he wanted to visit these places with you. So let it be the so-called Rainbow Bridge, the LED Rose Garden, the Starfield Library in COEX or the Ihwa Mural Village with its prettily painted walls, you accompanied him without hesitation.

At first, it was odd, saying yes to such activities with a boy, but Xiaojun hadn’t given you any reason to say no because he was polite, considerate, kind, and whenever you didn’t have the time to go with him or he went away to the countryside for the weekend, he sent you pictures, making sure that you didn’t miss out on anything. You would have never thought that you could smile or laugh so much, and your phone’s gallery was filled with so many photos by now that you considered saving them on your laptop before they would take up more space on your phone.

You enjoyed it, the way he made you feel, and the way he opened your eyes to a world outside your comfort zone. You had been to places you would have never thought you would visit, and you had experienced things you would have never imagined. Like going to a karaoke bar with a Chinese person who attempted to sing Korean rap songs just to make you laugh and you singing a Chinese song that you could follow only because there was a simplified pronunciation line under the Chinese characters. Otherwise, you would have been totally lost.

“Gosh, Chinese is so difficult,” you huffed after you had gotten to the end of the song, plopping yourself down beside a grinning Xiaojun. He had been enjoying your attempt way too much, but for that cheeky smile on his face, it was all worth it.

“Korean is difficult enough for me, trust me,” he mentioned with a snicker, and even though it was hard for you to believe that Korean could be a challenge to a Chinese person, you believed him because he was the Chinese out of the two of you.

“That’s why we talk in English,” you pointed out, and earned a very lighthearted laughter from the boy. You exchanged a glance, and you didn’t have anything to say, and he didn’t seem to search for any words either. It was just one very peaceful, precious moment that you wished you could capture. His dimples appearing by the edges of his lips, his jet-black eyes shining fondly and beamingly, his whole face radiating joy, his hair a bit messy from running his hands through it a lot while trying to keep up with the rap song, and his laughter resembling tiny bells that cheerfully chimed whenever a new visitor arrived at a store.

“Thank god we are at least good at that. It would have been awkward if I had just tried to read your body language the first time we met. Or if we had just kept smiling at each other.” He broke into a giggle a few moments later, and you just had to imagine the scene, you were already laughing alongside him.

“I’ve never been more thankful that I became an English major.”

“Oh really?” Xiaojun quirked an eyebrow teasingly instead of taking your comment lightheartedly, and your whole face flushed. It was funny how he could make you blush, but gosh, you really didn’t want him to stop. Yet, you just had to get back at him somehow.

“Actually, no. It was just a spur-of-a-moment comment. Nothing else,” you insisted firmly, trying to act unaffected, but he saw through you.

“Are you sure? It didn’t seem so to me.”

“Yes, I’m sure. Never been more sure of anything,” you objected as you shook your head, and it took everything in you to avoid reacting to that elegant arch of his eyebrows.

“Then, I guess I’ll just switch to Chinese.” Xiaojun shrugged flippantly, and started talking to you in Chinese just as he had said so. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at him, especially at the way there was a cheeky, boyish smirk hiding in the corner of his lips as he was repeating the same sentence over and over again.

You kept ignoring him, but you were the first one who grew tired of waiting for him to switch languages, so you looked at him, crossing your arms in front of your chest.

“Okay. I’ll take it back. Please, switch back to English, so I can understand you,” you pleaded a bit dramatically, acting as if you had been suffering while you hadn’t understood a thing. Though it had actually been weird listening to him speak in his mother language because you had been so used to being able to understand him that him speaking in a language you didn’t know was particularly interesting.

Xiaojun’s smirk grew wider if that was actually possible, and despite what you would dare to say to him face-to-face, even that smirk of his was gorgeous. This whole boy was just ever so casually gorgeous.

“Fine. If you insist, I have no choice but to do as you say,” he said as he switched back to English, and though you were grateful, you were actually more curious this time, so you scooted closer to him on the coach, and inquired:

“What was that sentence that you kept repeating?” You tilted your head questioningly. The truth is, you could have imagined that he had been saying that you were a fool for the jokester he was, but you weren’t so sure because that knowing smile was saying something else. Maybe it was about something more serious?

“Maybe I’ll tell you one day,” he left it at that, and no matter how much you tried to get him to tell you what it was, he didn’t.

So you merely enjoyed the rest of the day (and a few more attempts of his at Korean rap songs), laughing and smiling along with him because you believed that if the day came, he would tell you himself if it was any important. If not, then it was still good for the laughter.

The weather was getting more and more humid, the exams were approaching faster and faster, yet still, all you could think about was the time Xiaojun had left from his semester at your university, and what would happen to the two of you after he left the country. You, as the overthinker you were, didn’t dare to bring up the topic when he was around because you didn’t want him to feel pressured to reciprocate your wishes of seeing him again, but you couldn’t stop mulling over the different scenarios. You were long over denying your liking towards this particular boy, but the question was if he felt the same way? He was so casual and friendly with everyone that you didn’t know how to differentiate his feelings from the ones he displayed around others.

There had been only one time you could sense that he took care of you in a way he didn’t do so with others, but it was when he had invited you to a BBQ night with him and his friends and his friends’ girlfriends, so basically, you were the only single girl left because Mark, Yukhei and Hendery all had their girlfriends with them. The other three boys hadn’t even tried to hint anything regarding your relationship/friendship with Xiaojun, so at least that hadn’t turned out to be as awkward of a night as you had previously thought so.

However, that one particular occasion hadn’t helped your undulating feelings either, and you felt like you were running out of time, so you didn’t really know what to do with yourself. You didn’t even want to let down Xiaojun either, so you agreed on having a stroll with him by the Han River a week before he was supposed to leave.

“Have you started packing?” You inquired as the soft breeze of the summer night was playing with your locks and messing up Xiaojun’s hair. The boy was more amused than ashamed as he responded:

“No, not at all. Though I assume I would need to pay an extra fee for my luggage because I’m pretty sure I’m way over the weight limit with all the souvenirs and gifts I’ve bought,” he remarked cheerfully, and the way he merely smiled at his mishap melted your heart.

It was already late at night and there were quite a few people around, yet the light buzz of the riverside couldn’t be compared to the cacophony in your heart. Your heart wanted to break out of your ribcage and the more he looked at you and caught your eyes, the heavier this feeling grew.

Before Xiaojun, you had never felt such intense emotions, especially not towards a boy. You had always cooed at romantic movie scenes and all that, but no boy had been able to make you feel so special, accepted, understood and cared for. Then, there came this boy with his silly personality, gallery of funny memes, adorable puppy photos and his overflowing charms, and you had been swept off of your feet. Your personalities might have been clashing, but instead of being the stormy weather to your serene sea, he was more like the rays of sunshine that warmed the surface of your life.

No wonder your smile couldn’t fade as you were walking beside him, but you swore you almost tripped over yourself when he casually commented:

“You know, you could visit me during the summer. My family already knows a lot about you,” he confessed, flashing a charming smile at you, raising an eyebrow elegantly. You felt speechless for a moment - because of both parts of his confession -, and he mistook your silence for disapproval because he quickly added: “Only if you want to and feel comfortable with it, of course. I don’t want to pressure anything onto you.”

Of course, you knew that, Xiaojun would never pressure anything onto you. Instead of pressuring, he was more like that helping hand that assisted you through that fine line between the familiar grounds where your comfort zone lied and the parts outside of it. You were merely shocked that he was so casual about this offer, and if he had brought it up like this now, you were sure that he had been thinking about it beforehand.

“I’d love to,” you croaked out, finally finding your voice after a bit of an inner struggle, and Xiaojun seemed a bit surprised, but in the best possible way.

“Really? That would be awesome! I would show you around my favourite places and my mother would cook you authentic Chinese meals. You’ll love being there, I can guarantee that,” he foresaw already, and his words melted your heart again, though by this time you felt like you were melting beside him all the time. How could anyone be so adorable?

“If you’re around, I’m sure it’ll be great,” you admitted, smiling shyly. His eyes turned into little crescents when he caught your smiling self, and in that moment, under the street lamps, surrounded by the fragrance of the bloomed trees and flowers, covered by the night life of the riverside, you wished you could be in his arms or just hold his hands; to have him close no matter what the future holds.

You walked beside each other for some time, sharing stories about your own families and previous vacations, and cracking up over your mischievous child selves that had turned every holiday into a rollercoaster. You were as light as the atmosphere around you, your heartbeat as continuous as the flow of the river because having him by your side made you feel safe and secure.

“Do you still want to know what I said in Chinese back at the karaoke bar?” Xiaojun brought it up suddenly, not letting silence overtake your conversation.

“Of course,” you answered truthfully, and you were ready to be told that he was saying that you were a fool, that you had a horrible voice or anything awkward that he might have come up with, but instead, what he said rendered you speechless, as he turned to you, halting his steps to tell you face-to-face:

“That I like you, and I wish you would feel the same way,” he let you know before adding an explanation. “I just didn’t want to tell you this back then because I was afraid that the time we would spend together would be bittersweet, but now that there’s only one week left, and you’ve already mentioned that you wouldn’t mind visiting me in the summer, I’ve figured you might actually feel the same way about me.”

Surprise would be a subtle expression for how you felt in that moment with those words rolling off his tongue, sincerity oozing through the syllables, and his mesmerizing jet-black eyes holding yours captive. All the doubts, all the worried thoughts seemed miniscule to the relief that filled your veins because he felt the same way! Your cheeks immediately turned burgundy, but you didn’t mind.

“I like you, too. I just didn’t know if you felt the same way,” you confessed coyly, your face burning up. Xiaojun let out a giggle and closed his eyes for a moment as if he hadn’t believed what he had heard, then he stepped closer to you, and hugged you.

In that moment, as he was holding you in his embrace, you didn’t care what was waiting for you, and how you two would be able to keep in touch and keep liking each other. Because all you could feel was happiness, immense happiness, and you didn’t want this feeling to go away. Never ever.

In that one remaining week, you spent as much time together as possible, but that wasn’t a lot since you both had exams and assignments, and Xiaojun had some paperwork with his departure, so it didn’t seem like it was enough. However, you enjoyed every moment of it because you knew how the boy felt, and you couldn’t have been happier that your feelings were reciprocated.

Truthfully, you were doubtful whether you could make a long-distance relationship work because it was your first ever relationship after all, so you had no experience, and you were really worried that you would feel isolated from him. On the other hand, after a tearful goodbye at the airport (only you cried, Xiaojun merely laughed it off), you kept in touch through messages, phone calls and video calls, and it felt a bit like you were there beside each other. Xiaojun loved showing off Bella while he was having video calls with you, and usually you cooed at the sight, the affection evident in the boy’s every move towards the pet. Yet, one time, the puppy decided to pee on his carpet, and that was when your brother walked into your room, so ever since then, he mentioned Xiaojun as the guy whose dog peed on the carpet, and the memory never failed to make you laugh.

With each day, you felt your heart grew fonder and fonder of the boy, and through classical music recommendations, photos of (slightly) failed attempts at launches, video calls featuring Bella, watching movies together through a streaming site, time flew by fast enough, and by the time you could actually start missing him, you were already with him, spending your 10-day holiday with him, his parents and his brother.

There was no exaggeration in you saying that those 10 days were the best time of your life because you felt welcomed from the very beginning, his family treating you kindly and casually - as if they had known you for years. You made dumplings with Xiaojun’s mother, was told childhood stories about the two boys by his father, was shown cool places in the neighbourhood by his brother, and you watched movies with them, had a BBQ party with them in the garden and you also went on a hiking trip together. They respected your privacy, so they always asked you if you wanted to join, but you wouldn’t have missed anything for the world.

The boy played you his guitar and piano, sang you lullabies at night, let you play with Bella and take her for a walk with him, and oh boy, he even started doing pushing ups in front of you one day, but he told you that he only wanted to make you blush, nothing more (and he succeeded, of course he did…). Your heart was fluttering beside him, your smile was constant, and laughter followed you like a shadow wherever you went with him because you felt safe and sound, as if you didn’t have anything to be afraid of.

Sure, you had concerns about the future, but you were already looking up opportunities that would allow you to teach kids English in China because that would go well with your actual degree, and maybe you could even do it as your internship. It was nothing fixed for now, but you were hopeful towards your future with the boy, and after those 10 days with him, you were more sure than ever that you two would make it work, overcoming every obstacle that might appear in your lives.

[windsweptlassie]

On Love

So as you know I made this uquiz with an open-ended question at the end, tell me something about love, and I’ve gotten the most wonderful responses! They range from descriptions of wonderful partners: 

Lauren: oh, how long I went without being myself until I met him and he showed me who I truly was and that my worth was higher than I ever thought was possible

Levi: I love who we are with each other. I love who I am with you. In your company I am me. In your company I am the best of me. The best with the best, I've told you. I wouldn't give you up for anything

Daniel: i fell in love for the first time when i was 17... at the time, i didn’t realize it was the first time, i thought i’d been in love before, a couple times actually, but falling in love at 17 was such a fulfilling experience, it felt so forceful yet so right. it’s when i first truly understood what love was. never before had i felt so understood and so cared for as i did when i was in love with her, and she was in love with me. it’s been nearly 4 years since then, and nearly 3 years since we broke up and stopped talking, and still, i think about her almost every day. i’ve never known anyone like her; to me, she was love itself.

El: oh i’m in love with everyone that i know op!!! especially my girlfriend, of course ,but also my friends and my family and random people on the street and uh

Grace: i’ve met my soulmate and we plan on getting an apartment and marrying after college

A: I’m going to ask the woman I love to marry me and I just wanted to tell someone because I am so excited

Jeremy: you ever have that feeling where basically after years of denying that someone couldnt understand you in a way or love you and then the next thing you know you happen to find that person and its just great from then on out? idk how to explain it anyways I love my boyfriend so much he means the world to me

Lucy: i am so happy i have found the one i love

to descriptions of best friends and favorite people:

Nightbyrd: Love is a hug from an alzheimer's patient who hasn't the foggiest idea who you are, but they know you're worth hugging.

H: I have been doing so much yoga with my roommate recently!! It's a great way to center my mind for an hour

Riv: [platonic] i’ve literally never met anyone who understands me in the way that my best friends do. they’re literally the best people in the whole world and i genuinely don’t know what i’d do without them. i love them with my whole heart

Cillian: when i talk about how much i love my best friend i get so teary eyed because i cant believe that such a genuinely wonderful person wants to speak to me every day - i care for her more than anyone else on this planet

O: my two besties are my sources of happiness and they’re so pretty i would die for them :D

to beautiful quotes:

Kai: "you have bewitched me, body and soul, and I love, I love, I love you. I never wish to be parted from you from this day on." DARCYYYY PLS MY HEART CANT HANDLW THIS PAIN

Dorian: When the plane went down in San Francisco, I thought of my friend M. He’s obsessed with plane crashes. He memorizes the wrecked metal details, ____the clear cool skies cut by black scars of smoke. Once, while driving, he told me about all the crashes: The one in blue Kentucky, in yellow Iowa. How people go on, and how people don’t. It was almost a year before I learned that his brother was a pilot. I can’t help it, I love the way men love. (accident report in the tall, tall weeds- ada limon, bright dead things)

Adam: every day I think about lemony snicket I will love you if I never see you again I will love you if I see you every Tuesday or however it goes. and it KILLS ME. love only fits in small things

Hero: “Your heart beats in my ribs and mine in yours, and both in God’s… The divine magnet is in you, and my magnet responds.” - Herman Melville to Nathaniel Hawthorne

Mary: "Love is watching someone die."

Alex: "meet me at blue diner, i'll take coffee and talk about nothing baby"

Sparrow: "How dare you love me like you've never known fear?" and "For you, the world," and "Darling, I was born to press my head between your shoulder blades," and "Will you start where I end?"

V: " You want to die for love. You always have. " and "someone will remember us, I say, even in another time" are living rent free in my mind 24/7 and I'm shaking. When will I finally be not the only one falling ?

Sahar K: To love another person is to see the face of god!!!

Miriam: all the love in the world is useless when there is total lack of understanding- kafka

Juls: Don’t you think they are maybe the same? Love and attention

to practices of love:

Leo; i love feeling happy bc somebody that i love is happy and comfortable....like its not about me i just love seeing you smile. we are safe together...idk i just feel it bro

A: I like to think love is leaning on each other during the light or dark days. Its a personal mission of mine to find out who I am and what I want. Yet I never seem to find my place in this world and as I look and look , I realise the only place I can be myself even with or without the efforts to find myself was done on that day or not, I am always tired so shall I lean on you? And you can lean on me as well. I shall be your fig tree and you shall be my favourite willow tree.

L: It's too late at night to be soul searching, but it's a journey we all seem to find ourselves on these days.

Anthi: feeling safe and at home, I guess (also I love frogs)

Julia: ive found that loving someone is like becoming your own thesaurus. you have to find or come up with infinite ways to say, you’re beautiful, or, i love you. it’s a gift

Galexies: ive been writing letters to the person i'd love one day since i was 14. i write them in a little journal usually, but i've been digitizing them into emails and sending them to one account that i'll give to them someday. i'd like to put pictures, but i haven't been outside much recently so theres that. i wonder if they'd like the sunsets i have on file, or if they'd find my cat cute in a bowtie.

Caeles: Love is sharing fruit slices and making someone tea at random

Dundy: Love is sending your friends cursed shit and watching them react in horror

to crushes and potential loves: 

Jess: I have a crush on my roommate. It sucks, but it's also wonderful. I get to be around him all the time when we're at school. we share a life together; it's rather domestic. I think a lot about marrying him and being domestic with him forever. It won't happen, and I'll move on eventually, but I'll be happy with him for as long as I can. I hope you feel loved tonight, because you are. Sleep well.

Aki: I so desperately want to believe that love is fake because I’ve seen what happens when loved ones leave but whenever I start to convince myself that I’ll never love anyone my best friend messages me telling me she loves me. She’s the only person I’ve ever pictured having a future with but love scares me and I don’t really know what to do but I think as long as she’s with me in some way, I’ll be fine

Hi: her her i keep thinking abt her.... gonna see her in 8 days or so i really miss her. its ok if shes never gonna love me like i want her to really being her friend spending time with her makes me the happiest girl on earth.... outsold antidepressants

Kit: this guy i have a crush on has hypnotically dark brown eyes and he's wonderful and shows me kindness like no one else

Juno: my crush has all the stars in his eyes

Mads: When I have the courage to meet my eyes with hers, the world stands still

Be Nice To Me: Look bro I never do these but I am yearning to hold them SO badly right now and someone needs to know it besides me

to the trials of love: 

Pppppp: I just wanna love like from the movies and what I read about.. but everyone tells me that that’s fictional and rare to find in the real world and it sucks bc it seems like all the guys I’ve met are terrible and the norms of society are all about not respecting women and uthdjdjdk

Manny: I have been in love before and I will be again but I’m not now and I miss it

Ok: I don't think I've ever been in love, though I love many people. I am waiting for the day I look at someone and can say, YES. IT'S YOU.

Chloe: idk rn i'm like okay with my love and i'm happy so we'll see i'm just a little cautious rn bc my last partner told me i didn't know how to love

L: love is so fucking complicated I don't even know where to start

Corrin: He’s not real and it worried me that I will never allow myself to live or be loved because I will always be waiting for him

Sean: Good luck it dont exist

Serena: i want 2 b in love :(( </3

13: I don’t know anymore

M: I just really don’t like dealing with it lol

to beloved characters: 

Janaya: I’m madly in love with my comfort and kin character and I hope maybe in the afterlife I can relive a life with him in some sort of dimension

Jhgjdf: when i was a kid i had a crush on ash ketchum from pokemon and id always daydream about being a female pkmn trainer and meeting him and we fall in love

to advice and prose: 

Mikolai: Love is earth, gentle and soft at first flight but upon being broken, drowns you in the dry choking wastes of its consequences...

Thex: Your hands will not go cold without someone to hold them. I am here. I will be here.

Kat: it is the nearest proof to god that i find myself surrounded by people who love in a way that complements so wonderfully the way i love

H: believe in love out of spite believe in love to prove everyone wrong believe in love because you were told not to and we will not do what we’re told anymore believe in love because it’s the strongest act of teenage rebellion we have left believe in love because it’s easier not to and when is easy worth doing? believe in love because everything says otherwise but you are untouchable, you are your own, you are not made by their design believe in love because, perhaps, you are love

Ali: I used to want a kind of love that feels like coming home and now I want nothing more than to be away from home on many different adventures

Em: you dont need to love yourself to accept it from others

to the small, the simple, and the sweet:

Ireal: Poems

O: Flowers

Fay: ah im sorry that i’m feeling unmotivated but you are very kind.

Ad: we love LOVE

A: <3

Isak: small things

H: intense

Hey: Listening to a clock ticking away

S: her

E: <3

Hania: Amorous, I adore that word ^^

Catboy: wholesome

J: i love love so much it hurts

Emmy: hi i love the song darkest of discos!! try and give it a listen!! <3

Nora: Love is painful, but most of the time love is great

Ariel: i like the comfort it can bring

M: i love love

to food!

Cool Whip: Matzoh ball soup!!

Woop: I love sausages.... I hope that's ok with you?

and animals too <3

Nee: hmm i have pet geckos and i love them very much!

96: raccoons ????

DJ Big Penis: cats

:3: I Love frogs,,, love is stored in the frog,,,

I hope that this serves as a sweet compilation of what love means! Love to all of you, it warms my heart so much to hear about your people and your geckos and your characters and soup and all the songs and quotes you love. <3 Strength to all of you who are figuring out to do about your feelings for your crush, and congratulations to you who are proposing or moving in with your person! Your words are a source of light to me, truly.

[fallin-4-ya]

The Follies and Vices of You

cedric diggory x reader- part v of series 

based off the novel and film ‘Pride and Prejudice’ by Jane Austen

summary: Being the beloved sister of the incredibly wealthy Mr. Potter, you felt no need to rush into marriage. But one day, when you come to meet a new acquaintance, the proud Mr. Diggory, your views of love and follies change.

warnings: none! (gif is not mine, credit to owner!)

part i, part ii, part iii, part iv, part v

‘Maybe it’s that I find it hard to forgive the follies and vices of others, or their offenses against me. My good opinion, once lost, is lost forever.’ -Jane Austen 

The snow melted and flowers began growing, winter gone and the world welcoming spring with open arms. The earth turned ever so slowly and the cold months of the year began to pass, while the months of summertime approached slowly.

You thought often about the words crossed between you and Mr. Diggory and reread his letter hundreds of times. You replayed every emotion in your memory and found solace in his warm eyes, unable to remove him from your thoughts. The feeling of guilt, anger and love resided deep with you, for you couldn’t tell which thought to be corresponding to him.

Miss Ginny, however may have been right about two things in her letter sent to you in the New Year. You had received a proposal form not only Mr. Diggory, but from Mr. Malfoy as well which you declined almost instantly. While the other being she would be home before the flowers bloomed, which excited you greatly.

You told no soul about the proposal or the letter sent from Mr. Diggory, not even Miss Ginny; for to remember the memories of the conversation was far too painful. You had not seen Mr. Diggory since, you were told he was to go back home for the summer months.

One morning at breakfast, your brother turned to you, ‘Y/N, I am to go across country with Mr. Ron Weasley next week for some business.’ You hummed softy, ‘How would you like to join us? I think some fresh air will do you good.’

You looked up at Harry with sweet eyes, ‘Oh Harry! Of course, how exciting that sounds! What a wonderful distraction from life this will be, as what are men compared to rocks and mountains!’

The following week you rode up country in the carriage with Harry and Mr. Ron Weasley. The trip was splendid so far, as you passed the blossoming trees and blooming flowers. It felt as the world was at peace. You turned your attention to your brother,

‘Harry, where are we anyway?’

‘Derbyshire, I believe.’

‘Harry,’ Interjected Mr. Weasley, ‘Is that not the home of Mr. Diggory?’

‘Yes, Ron, I do believe it is!’ replied your brother, ‘Shall we pay our old friend a visit?’

‘Oh lets not!’ you quickly spurred out, ‘He um- Well he’s so rich. I do prefer not to.’

‘And what are we my dear sister!’ Harry shakes his head in amusement, ‘Nonsense, we shall go see our business partner. I thought you would love to meet an old acquaintance, Y/N.’

With that you slumped down into your seat, dreading the visitation of Mr. Diggory.

When you all had finally arrived to his estate you could not help but to smile to yourself, because it was more beautiful than you could ever imagine. You graciously made you way up the grand staircase up to the front doors. The doors opened and you were met face to face with Mr. Diggory, a meeting you had thought so long about. His eyes were still warm and you saw a smile that you hadn’t quite seen there before

‘Mr. Diggory.’ You bowed at his, returning the smile.

‘Miss Y/N, what a most pleasant surprise!’ He took your hand, greeting you properly. He then turned you your brother and Mr. Weasley, welcoming them to his home.

Soon you all sat in his parlor, conversation coming easily; all the while Mr. Diggory turned to you. ’Miss Y/N, would you do me the honor of perhaps playing the pianoforte. It’s been such a long while since music was played in my home.’

You nodded and walked up to the pianoforte, then began playing it graciously. The men once again became absorbed in conversation as you went into your own little world with your playing. It felt like hours had passed as you played; however, you were brought out of your piano trace with a presence stood above you. Without looking up or stopping your fingers you said,

‘You mean to frighten me, Mr. Diggory, coming in all your state to listen to me. But I shan’t be alarmed even if your family does play so well.’

He laughed, ‘Oh, Miss Potter, I know well that I cannot frighten you even if I were to wish it.’

You looked into his brown eyes, as if you were seeing their richness for the very first time. You saw the man behind the wall, a man ruined by tragedy and grief; a man numbed by the betrayal of friends and the loss of a most beloved sister. for how tragic life can be, as you knew that all too well. And perhaps Mr. Diggory was right, just because one has pride, we have no right to be prejudice towards the; especially when one’s character is severely misunderstood.

You stood quickly identifying your feelings, becoming very uneasy. You apologized and walked out of the room; for what you felt, you could not bear.

For the rest of the trip you pondered over your likeness of Mr. Diggory. You spend your nights lying awake solely thinking about him, he danced in your mind as a distance memory, something that was always just out of reach. And returning home did not fix your heartbreak, but rather made it worse. The feelings which you felt were buried very deep within your insides, for you could not handle the recollection of the emptiness you felt without him.

Month passed, and seasons changed. The end of summer came quickly. Your restlessness came to no avail, spending most nights walking the grounds of the estate. There your thoughts could not disturb you.

One night walking, you saw dawn soon approaching; but there was something else also steadily approaching you.

Mr. Diggory.

He headed onwards staright towards you, both of you dressed only in night clothes. Mr. Diggory came to you steadily with shaky hands.

‘Mr. Diggory! How- why?’

‘I could not sleep, Miss. Y/N. I think only of you and knew I had to come see you again, only to ask one more time.’

He paused looking at you, exhaling deeply. You nodded and gazed into his loving eyes.

‘Miss. Y/N, if your feelings have remined the same since last winter, please tell me so at once. My affections towards you have not changed, but one word from you will silence me forever. However, if your feelings have changed,’ he paused slowly, ‘I wish to tell you that you have bewitched me body and soul and I love- I love you. And I never wish to be parted from you from this day forth.’

‘It’s always been you, Mr. Diggory.’ You stared longingly at him, ‘For I cannot express the moment it stared; but that once I realized, I was only in the middle and far too deep to turn back. So, if you will take me as I am, I am yours.’

He took your hands in his, drawing them in slowly and planting a kiss onto each knuckle. Stars in his eyes and angels in yours, it was like this moment had been envisioned a hundred times in your head but never had the courage of playing itself out. Now, instead of dancing alone in his memories, you danced in each other’s, together.

For the first time you felt like you were home, and you loved him, and he loved you. And after all, how much more could you ask for.

(authors note: Ahh! its finally here! the last chapter of this series, but not to worry there will be an epilogue! if you came this far, thank you so much, i really enjoyed writing this series and I hope you enjoyed reading it! much love <333)

tag list: @freddieweasleyswife @truly-insatiable @annasdani @mullthingsoverinthehotwater

[sneezefiction]

intoxicated

Akaashi x Reader - Scenario

event request: “Congrats on 600!!! maybe i request 8. intoxicated with akaashi pls??🥺🥺🥺💕”

a/n: i’ve always been one to admire strangers from afar. sooo, i thought Akaashi might enjoy seeing your sweet face in a uni/campus setting. fluffy sweetness right here <333

warnings: maybe slightly suggestive (but hardly??)

wc: 1720

---

It all started with a glimpse.

His speculative, grey-blue eyes catching yours from across a full lecture hall. They flickered over, soaking you in at every class period. At first, you couldn’t help but wonder if he’d been looking right past you, but at the tilt of his head, you were sure that his eyes were set on you. A connection formed instantly, sending shivers straight down your spine, giving pause to every mental function.

It got to the point that you had to remind yourself to breathe whenever the pretty boy sent you a modest smile, leaving you a flushed mess.

Because never have you seen someone that captivating.

How at the flick of his ember hair, brushing a too-long piece away from his eyes, you heart would be pounding and skipping. The way he spun his pencil around on his fingers or rested a studious hand on his chin, squishing his face slightly. How his eyes squinted thoughtfully at the prompt of a tricky question, focusing on a specific object to concentrate, only glancing back up when he came to a satisfying conclusion.

You were spell-bound...  and you didn’t even know his name.

But you could dream. And dream you would.

About what his voice would sound like whispering softly to you, his lips brushing against your ear and jawline. Or in the morning with a raspier tinge, waking you up with the gentlest of tones, a hint of coffee lacing with yesterday’s cologne.

How his arms would feel wrapped around your core on a lazy Saturday, soaking in his warmth and sinking back into his secure hold, adjusting accommodatingly for your comfort. To have his eyes drink in every inch of your face, analyzing you instead of his notes for a change.

But for now, you reluctantly settle for distant glances and curious expressions. Separated by a lecture hall and busy class schedules.

That is until you show up to class, finding someone in the usually empty seat next to yours. 

Their back is toward you for a moment, so you take it as a chance to scan their appearance. You quickly note the clean outfit, brown boots and simple colors complete with a long, grey cardigan. If you were forced to sit next to some mysterious person, you’re glad they at least knew how to dress well.

But your entire body runs cold as a familiar face shifts toward the tapping of your light footsteps.

Soft, navy glasses with thin frames. The gentle features made up of soft cheekbones and a sharp, slim jawline. Those bewitching eyes that could outshine the profound shimmering of a deep-blue sea.

It’s him. The one you’ve been fascinated by for weeks. And he’s sitting right there.

“Hi.” The tone is soft and pleasant… inviting even. And his eyes, so warm.

His voice is silk, skimming the surface of your skin giving you chills. Your current infatuation is speaking to you. And it’s definitely no longer a dream.

You should probably start responding now,

“Oh, uh, hello!” You stammer out, a flush dancing across your cheeks.

He just smiles at your dazed response, aware of your confusion but unfazed by your reaction.

Dammit, act like a normal human, y/n, you scold yourself for just standing there, your hands shoved in your pockets. 

“I’m y/n. it’s nice to meet you!” You return the smile, but it hardly begins to reveal the exhilaration of being so close to him.

“I’m Akaashi. Do you care if I sit with you?”

Oh, you could sit on me, you think to yourself but shake the thought from your head swiftly.

And Akaashi… a pretty name for such a pretty face. He’s polite too. Maybe a little formal, but friendly.

“Oh, sure! It’s not like I’m saving it for anyone or anything like that…” You let out a breathy laugh as you set your bag down next to his backpack.

The bustling of the room before class starts covers for the awkward silence between you two. You do your best to calm your nerves. This was the last thing you’d expected from your day and you sure as hell never planned to make a move on him. Your interest was supposed to fade as the semester closed out. It was going to be a lovely thought. Just a nostalgic, intangible tale of stolen glances or a story to tell about a beautiful stranger and what could’ve been.

But Akaashi had other plans.

He wanted to feel you out. To understand why your eyes rested on his figure whenever you thought he couldn’t see you. Because, to Akaashi, you’re the enigma. 

A puzzle in need of solving, determining, and piecing together until a full picture is resolved. And he hasn’t been this intrigued by an individual since high school… so who’s to say he shouldn’t pursue his curiosity?

He took a leap of faith, deciding that you were also potentially interested, which is how he’s found himself seated next to you. And you’re way more attractive up close than he could’ve imagined. 

As the professor begins to ramble through some odd topic, Akaashi’s side glances begin.

The way your lips part as you try to listen to the lecture, beautiful eyes scanning your notes, and then flickering back to the PowerPoint on the projector screen has him shifting around in his seat, wishing he could hear the song of your voice through them.  He can tell that there’s so much more under your surface. Behind your shy smiles and the way your tuck strands of hair behind your ear. That there was already a lifetime of morals, beliefs, habits, experiences, and stories that you could share with him. There is only so much he could examine in the span of an hour… and it’s not often that he’s drawn away from his studies. But in all honesty, he’d much rather listen to you, falling in love with your mind instead of just your body and entrancing facial features. 

Akaashi craves to discover it all.

You bite your lip, attempting to concentrate on anything but the boy next to you… but it’s hard because he’s close enough that you can smell his complex cologne mixed with the chai latte sitting on his desk. You even find yourself leaning toward him, your body urging you to break the distance between you two. Throughout the class you have to control yourself, sitting up straight, keeping comments and conversation to a minimum, because forget about learning anything… you’re barely able to think without being submerged in his presence. 

When his arm intentionally brushes against yours as he reaches for another sip of his tea, you almost lose it. Infatuation or not, he was doing something to you.

You barely register that Akaashi has leaned in to whisper something to you, but when it does, goosebumps race down your arms.

“Y/n…”

Your name feels so good rolling off his tongue.

Heat spreads across your face, “Y- yes?”

Very smooth, y/n. Nice stutter, you cringe at yourself.

“After class, would you want to go over notes?” His suggestion, though innocent in nature, sounds far more alluring… and you can’t tell if it’s just your brain making up the sultry tone or if Akaashi just sounds this good.

“Ah, actually I would love to… where to?” You recover, leaning back as a small smile plasters itself onto your lips, trying not to make your excitement too obvious.

“My dorm?” A fleeting smirk crosses his face, but ghosts away to conceal his feelings.

Oh.

---

“Keiji, you’re tickling me.” You squirm, trying to tug your self out of his grasp.

“No, I’m not, you just happen to be ticklish.” He counters sleepily. His fingers continue to dance down your back, running in soothing circles and tracing curves.

You huff, but you stop struggling to get out of his arms.

As terrible as the dilapidated campus dorms were, you’ve never felt safer than when you were buried in a blanket, tucked under your boyfriend’s arm, staring up at the old, cracked ceiling. The tired building was so close to falling apart that it was almost laughable.

But you don’t seem bothered.

It’s hard to worry about it when you’re constantly drowning in the pools of his eyes. Under the influence of his grazing touches and strings of thought flowing from his pretty mouth. An enrapturing blend of sophistication and authentic thought.

You shift in his hold, your back no longer pressing to his chest, choosing to lay face-to-face instead. For a moment, you are met with sloping features and the most peaceful of expressions. A sweeping wave of adoration flows through your body. It’s a warm tightening in your chest followed by a heavy, contented exhalation. He’s an angel.

But soon, Akaashi’s eyes softly blink open, making your heart do little flips. You would never be able to get rid of the butterflies that fluttered their way into your heart. He moves straight to reading your mind, analyzing every quirk of your eyebrow, what kind of smile you were wearing, how long you held his gaze for.

It’s funny how he’d assumed that you would only distract him from that one class. Instead, you have him in a dizzying spiral, taking up all of his attention. Filling his whole heart. His eyes naturally sought you out in noisy rooms full of people. His soul ached and burned for you and your pillowy-soft voice whenever you weren’t around.

It’s undeniable. 

You’re intoxicating.

Placing butterfly kisses on his cheeks, you earn a soft, closed-mouth smile. It’s easy to drown in his mesmerizing stare, taking it in, processing what he’s feeling and thinking, you lose track of time and forget about the dingy dorm room. 

Because it didn’t matter where you were. A classroom? A house party? A burning building? His artistry and perfection would outshine the most interesting of discussions and the brightest of flames. He’d bled through the pages of your life, leaving beautiful strokes of ink containing hues brighter than you could’ve ever imagined. Dipping into your past and pressing his way into your future. 

And it’s clear.

Akaashi is intoxicating.

The feeling is perfectly mutual… and to think it all started with a simple infatuation with the prettiest boy in your lecture hall.

With a beautiful stranger.

A mere glance.

---

tags: @cherryonigiri, @yams046, @miss-rin, @shou-kunn, @senkuwu-chan, @super-noya, @stcrryskies, @holaaaf, @sugacookiies, @starboybokuto

(comment or send an ask to be added to my general tag list) 

[xxtraord1nary]

Fantasy

Fandom: Open Heart

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x f!mc (Charlotte West)

Word Count: 1.3k

A/N: This is my first published work wish me luck! Constructive criticism is always welcome.

Summary: Ethan gets caught up in a steamy situation with his sexier than ever protégée who continues to run through this mind.

Warnings: Foreplay, Mild Language, NSFW!

Tags: @katkart122 @justanotherrookie @missmiimiie @starrystarrytrouble @openheartfanfics @dr-colossal-pita @heauxplesslydevoted @the-pale-goddess @rookie-ramsey @perriewinklenerdie @ernestsinclairs @writinghereandthere

As she slowly dragged her impeccably manicured ivory polished nails up the expanse of his mildly hairy broad chest Ethan found it quite hard to control his breathing and remain impassive to the bewitching woman before him. One thing about him was that he was not intimidated by anyone, and certainly not a first year resident for that matter but the divine woman had the ability to turn a highly intellegant diagnostician like himself to a puddle of mush.

For if she told him to jump he’d dutifully ask how high in attempts to please her. Her luminous golden brown eyes shone as bright as the afternoon sun through a glass of whiskey as they bore into his never ending sea blue ones challenging him. Almost daring him to stop her.

But that was the fun of it. He couldn’t no matter how hard he tried he just couldn’t. For how many times he unsuccessfully attempted to remind himself that a relationship between them was highly inappropriate and would be detrimental to her development as a doctor. As if she could hear his repetitive mindless thoughts, she rolled her eyes so hard she could’ve sworn she saw the back of her damn brain.

But instead of starting another asinine argument which would draw them to the same conclusion of him once again pushing her away and ultimately hurting them both she pushed him onto the couch behind them and she stood her grond in front of him and dropped to her knees. And without word began to run her hands over the front of his slacks which by the minute became increasingly uncomfortable as just the intense eye contact between the pair made him want to get on his knees and worship her body all night long.

“We seem to have quite the situation on our hands now don’t we Dr. Ramsey?” she remarked in a faux surprised voice as she ghosted her dainty fingers over his covered member. The combination of her heavenly touch and the use of his title rolling off her tongue in her paradisiacal french accent made him choke out a strangled groan. She moved herself upon the couch next to him leaning over his tall and domineering stature reduced to a dazed mess of a man.

“Would you like me to take care of this for you? Hm, is it my hands you want all over you and making you feel pleasured?” she asked once again, always being one to derive more pleasure from her lovers verbal affirmations of her actions. Trying and failing to form a coherent sentence after her line of questioning once she immediately applied more pressure and began to gently stroke him through his slacks.

Unable to produce words he instead looked down at her hands as they worked their magic he had to put his hands over hers to halt her ministrations to prevent him from unraveling so soon as he much preferred to be inside her. “Rookie-” he tried to protest but was quickly brought to silence by a finger to his lips. “I want you silent,Dr. Ramsey. Wanna know why?” he wordlessly nodded completely transfixed by the melanated enchantress.

“Because I’m in charge, and you're gonna and obey. Understand?” he eagerly nodded and with the consent she craved she continued her ministrations with more pressure this time and delved between the crook of his neck eliciting a loud moan from the object of her desires.

“Good god Charlotte.” he rasped out in a haze of pleasure causing her smirk and nip at his throat and making her way down to his adams apple. The confirmation of his pleasure only increased her own as well as her name on his lips which she wouldn’t mind a taste of at the moment. And with that thought she wasted no time in detaching herself from him only to straddle him and strip her scrub top from her body revealing to him a sight that could bring a hundred men to their knees in submission full mounds that hypnotized him at their every sway to which he hurriedly took handfuls of.

She wasted no time in tugging him roughly by the back of his neck causing their lips colliding together in a mix of unrelenting longing and pent up lust that had been expressed through their longer than necessary glances and not so innocent accidental touches throughout their work days that left him a flushed mess and her a smirking bundle of arrogance. Releasing this pent of lust he began to palm her generous backside and dig his nails into her wide tantalizing hips hard enough to surely leave a mark. As she choked out a moan from the pleasure of him unofficially staking his claim.

Somehow the woman on top of him could do what no woman ever had the avail to do, and that was have complete and utter control over Ethan Ramsey. So infatuated with the woman she could break his heart a million times over and he’d still come back dutifully on his knees. As bad as it may be within the short span of a year Charlotte Adora West had the key to his heart and soul and virtually owned him. Her other hand leaving it’s firm grip on his throat ventured down between them and free him from the confining space of his underwear held him firmly in her grasp and next he did something that shocked the hell out of her and turned them both on by belief all at the same time.

He brought her fingers resting on his face into the warm enclosure of his mouth and expertly sucked his fingers with profound experience and she began her quest of bringing to his peak with skilled adept and in response he dipped his hand into her scrubs and began to skillfully rub her bud with his thumb and forefinger causing her moan and breathe harshly. Replacing her fingers with her mouth they became a mess of panting and moaning tangled tongues and limbs.

As she climaxed her voice rang out in the empty space bringing him to his peak of pleasure to let out a husky growl and her to speed up stroking before-

A loud resounding smack on his desk bringing him out of his scandalous daydream and back into the present expanse of the diagnostic teams office to be met with the inquisitive prodding amber eyes of the subject of all his desires. Dr. Charlotte West herself.

As she just so happened to glance down at the tightening of his slacks she laughed quietly to herself and muttered something he couldn’t understand in french and returned her gaze to his with a knocking smirk.

“What were you fantasizing about Dr. Ramsey?” she seductively inquired, never making the move to break eye contact. He sputtered clearly embarrassed as he was no more than a blushing mess at the moment. “Dr. W-west, what are you doing in here?” he fumbled trying to look anywhere but her beautiful face. “This is the team office, remember? And I needed you to sign this.” she said slyly, still smirking subtly as she handed him a patient chart. “Oh.” he said, snatching up the chart and hurriedly signing his messy signature. “Merci.” she remarked on her way out the door but not before turning back to not so subtly eye his obvious hard of which he tried unsuccessfully to hide.

“Next time you’ll have to call me to fix that, try not to daydream too much of me sir.” she said chuckling before adding, “This is a hospital, Dr. Ramsey” not forgetting to send a suggestive wink his way on her way out leaving her once again victorious at his misery.

The most rewarding in her opinion.

And a flustered Ethan Ramsey, a world famous diagnostician, was left a muddled mess in his chair admiring the view of Charlotte's curvy figure that her scrubs did little to nothing to hide as she effortlessly swayed her way out of his office.

Fin.

Thanks for reading!

[quinn-tessence]

Nocturne for a Clown

Part 1

In this frightening, destabilizing global pandemic, we all seek comfort. I found mine in Arthur, and I know many of you did too. This community has given me so much, I cannot express my gratitude enough. So here's something I can give back. A Nocturne for our beloved Clown, who still inspires us to this day, and will probably never stop. 🤡🖤

Summary: you stumble into an intriguing neighbor, a tragic, beautiful party clown named Carnival with jade eyes and cocoa hair. His meekness around you gets under your skin enough to lead you unconsciously into his path by accident.

Length: 3.5k

Warnings: mentions of mental illness, alcohol use, nudity, playful flirting and light fluff. Pre smut intro, this is going places… 🤭🤡❤

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

You should have taken more bags, you could barely hold all these groceries as you opened the door to let yourself inside your block of flats. You greeted granny Mabel picking up her mail but swiftly turned your attention to the closing door of the elevator.

‘Wait, hold the lift, please!’

In your haste to catch the ride, a foot was lodged on the door, sliding it back open to let you in. Careful not to spill all the veggies on the floor, your attention fell onto the man sharing the ride with you only as he asked what floor you were going to.

‘5th please, thank you for holding the door'

‘Sure'

The lift shook in its slow ascent, your heart would have skipped a beat had it not been a part of your daily routine to feel that bump in your bones. His hair is really nice, the length and the curls around the edges. Hm. You couldn't help looking at him, he was all of your visual field after all, so you scrutinized, as you’d often do. He’d politely turned sideways, avoiding to keep his back to you, but you couldn't see his face clearly in the dim yellow light. He wasn't much taller than you, his complexion quite slim and fragile looking, his back slouched as if carrying the heaviest weight on his shoulders. Gotham made that easy, grey and gloomy by day even during good weather, a pile of construction and buildings with no defined identity, enough to fit all from the scourge to the wealthy.

‘This building's awful, isn't it?’ an uncharacteristic curiosity made you try out some small talk in the hopes you'd get a better glimpse.

You knew too few people in this building, and you were far from chatty in elevators with strangers. Usually. He looked so old fashioned wearing that shirt and the linen vest, but the ochre of his jacket heightened the cocoa brown of his hair, yellow light reflecting off the edges delicately. He was cute, in an oddly endearing sort of way. A pair of basil green eyes turned to your as he bit the bait, the sly grin cutting through his cheek a stark contradiction to everything else about him, the scar on his upper lip a peculiarity that only furthered your intrigue. There was a deep well of sadness in his eyes, overbearing, bone chilling. It prickled your skin as you noticed it, but the gaze under his eyelids was piercing. That unnerving feeling the striking contrast brought, you couldn't shake it off.

The joy ride on strings stopped just as your cheeks started to fluster. You bid him good night as you walked out, your awareness over your morning overuse of perfume now as acute as ever.

‘Hey!’ he shouted in a shy, husky voice as you stepped out.

You turned to him one last time to see him mimicking a gun shot to the head as a rather late comical attempt to reply to your earlier remark. Unconventional, yes, but not a sort of humor you didn't enjoy. The fact that you just couldn't make him out drew a puzzled smile on your face as the elevator door closed.

Hm. What was that? you wandered as you had one foot in stirring curiosity, the other guiding you to your door as if by reflex. You'd lived here for months already, yet you hadn't seen him before. He was quite handsome in an outlandish sort of way, you would not have let that go unnoticed had you seen him before.

Months had passed, yet you still had storing boxes around your living room. Your stay should have just been temporary, yet you'd started decorating it with your own sketches and it had suddenly become your home, your sanctuary, your oasis to recharge you after long days at the office close by. You'd stumbled into this place by accident while looking for a cozy place to stay, but you found no reason to leave it behind. Your own art gallery, with bright lights flooding the windows throughout the day that allowed you to paint during weekends without your eyes squinting, your safe space.

Not today though, your feet were sore and your arms hurt from carrying those groceries. All you wanted was a glass of white wine and an excessive bag of popcorn while you watched the Murray show, but you picked up Dostoyevsky to delve again into the question of the perfect murder while you waited. This book you could never grow tired of, and it rattled you to devour chapter after chapter, accompanying a tormented soul on a journey of falling into madness, its universe a silent revolt and escape from the reality of Gotham you'd craved deep down without ever voicing.

‘We sometimes encounter people, even perfect strangers, that begin to interest us at first sight, somehow suddenly, all at once, before a word has been spoken.' Hm. Go figure.

The deafening silence in the room would soon be filled by your own comments at the starting show, Murray’s humor making you roll your eyes at his lack of self awareness, quite versed he was in ridiculing one person or another. A comedy show, yes, but sometimes he would take it a bit too far even for your inappropriate taste in humor.

A few hours and half a bottle of wine later, the sweet taste of the wine still lingered on your lips, flooding your murky mind to a familiar place of solitary self indulgence. Not long after shutting your eyes, a recent memory took shape at the back of your eyelids, and you felt an irrational urge to trace a sketch of him. You were too tired to start drawing at this hour. Your fingers would be of much better use tracing those lines you were curious to feel off his own fingertips. You hadn't indulged yourself in a while, but the thought of this bewitching man flashing in the most vulgar parts of your mind soon changed that. Maybe you were blatantly objectifying your neighbor… but only a little… You'd been so busy with the new job, the long hours exhausting, the absence of a soul to keep you company a nuisance you'd learned to bury in piles of work. But the urges only amplified the more you'd stifle and ignore them, demanding to be satiated. So you gave into yourself, into him, into the sweet, intoxicating effect of your favorite wine, into the memory of the piercing green eyes that had you whimper in silence.

Something about him was out of place. You’d seen him from afar and he looked defenseless. But as you came closer, you could feel yourself swallow hard as you waited for his gaze to look to your direction. Odd, wasn't it? He hadn't said much, but the tension in the elevator had penetrated your bones to late night reminiscence. Something was not right about him, an 'I should be afraid, instead it turns me on' vibe to him had taken you right to the edge.

The next day you bumped into him after work at the corner store, he was buying cigarettes and a chocolate bar. With that level of nutrition, no wonder he was so feeble, yet there was something about him that had kept you up at night. You'd already developed a weakness for him, but that stifled your reaction instead of filling you with courage. He smiled shyly and walked out the door, his eyes counting his slouched steps. Shit. Next time.

One particular evening you noticed two blue diamonds peering meticulously through the store shelves, the greasepaint on the man's face rendering him almost unrecognizable lest for his unmistakable skinny complexion and beautiful cocoa hair. Your freight of clowns had shaped your life since childhood, yet that terror had somehow melted instantly at the sight of his jade eyes underneath the white blue makeup. He'd shied away as you noticed him, stealing a smile that got your feet walking into an opposite reaction, trying to hide your pleasant surprise at his creepy, endearing stares. You wondered if that was his job, it would be absurd to just walk around in a clown costume, stalking women. Not to mention, horrifying and nightmare inducing, as even you would have felt until a moment ago if it hadn't been him wearing the clown costume.

Fumbling around the store, shying behind the counters as you paid for your groceries, you couldn't resist glancing at him one more time. You'd missed your chance before and you regretted it. All it took was to reach for one item from the isle he was hiding in, even if you had no use for it. Startling him was the last of your intentions, so you mimicked his behavior peering at him through the shelves, perhaps that would open him up to you. As you both walked in the same direction towards the corridor, he stopped shy in his tracks, eyes now as big as the clown shoes on his feet, scanning the floors, anxiously facing the inevitable.

‘Hi there. I've seen you around, haven't I?'

You'd planned on being more casual in your approach, yet the tone of your voice evoked a warm intimacy built over nights of having him wander purposefully in the depths of your fantasies. The clown costume should have helped alienate that feeling, instead it only burned deeper. The youthful innocence draped across his face contrasted strikingly with the furrows in his forehead betraying his age. He couldn't be younger than 35 at least, yet the spark of his almond shaped eyes took 15 years off his complexion. He cleared his throat before being able to speak.

‘Hi! Yes, we met in the elevator last week. I didn't think you'd recognize me in my work outfit.’

‘I thought that was you. You could frighten ladies if you keep peering at them while wearing a clown costume, you know? Not a lot of good press on them in the past years’

A nervous chuckle escaped his throat, he couldn't have missed that connection himself but he seemed caught red handed.

‘Well I haven't even pulled my gun yet. I was waiting for the store to clear out a bit before I robbed the place and kidnapped you'

There was that dark humor, but damn him for making you smile like a teenager.

‘A clown with a gun and a plan, not at all frightening. You're funny! Pass me that pasta sauce, would you?’

He quickly reached for the item on his counter and reached over it to hand it to you. The gawkiness in his hasty moves was proof enough he wasn't used to being approached by women, you were sure his cheeks were as flaming red under the white makeup as the flower pinned to his colorful checkered blazer. You shook your head and pointed at the end of the counter, your feet moving in the direction where you wanted him. He followed shyly, dragging his oversized clown shoes.

As he handed you the item, you thanked him kindly and immediately put it back up on the shelf. His gaze fell to his feet again, surely flustered by the subtext of your action. Yet within a split of a second, his eyes pierced back at yours and you'd forgotten all words.

‘Why don't I walk you home instead? I'll keep the gun and kidnapping for another occasion. Let me help you with those' he reached for your groceries, his proximity to you feeding the fire. You gladly agreed and walked the couple blocks with him, curious of his day job and adoring the purr of his soothing voice, it tore you up every time you heard it falter. His suit and makeup should have kept you a mile away, yet he seemed to be the most welcome companion to comfort you through your biggest irrational fear. As you reached the apartment complex sooner than you'd wished, he stopped and let out a complicit chuckle.

‘I… seem to have forgotten to do my own groceries, I’ll have to go back now, somehow I got distracted…’

‘And I thought you were there just to kidnap me.’ You just couldn't help continuing his apropos, hoping deep down he'd actually do it. ‘Thank you for walking me home, that was sweet of you'

‘You're very welcome. I'm Arthur, by the way, or Carnival if you prefer the party clown'

‘Nice to meet you, Arthur. I'm Y/N.’

‘Y/N…’ the sound of your name off his lips jolted you shamelessly to the point where you needed to take that step back, and yet you didn't. ‘I'll see you around?’

The smile on his painted face a ray of sunshine in an otherwise wretched day. Carnival, you cheekily thought to yourself, never had you wanted to experience one as badly as you did seeing him light up a cigarette and inhale it wantonly almost halfway through, walking back a few steps, then turning and making his way back to the store.

Days at work had flown by rapidly in your constant distraction with a lingering image of a colorful clown. Not even the new guy everyone was talking about could catch your attention, even if your girlfriends kept mentioning a stunning pair of black eyes and a charming swagger. Had he been a smoker, you'd perhaps get a glimpse of him during your breaks, at least. The Fridays hardly ever felt like the weekend, and this one made you want to smash some bones, your own sorrows bubbling up inside you, like a mint candy in a bottle of Cola. You were more of an indoors cat, but your really couldn't pass on a 3rd invitation for a night out, your buddies would think you were willfully ditching them. Fine I'll go! Just one drink though.

Mixing gin and tequila hadn't been up there among your smartest choices. You should have stopped after the 3rd shot, but you hadn't had so much fun in months. Hah! I feel dizzy. But this feels good, your thoughts pieces of a puzzle you were too drunk to make out. As your feet moved out of the taxi and into the cold early morning air, you were finally back home. You must have remembered to pay the fare otherwise the cabby would have chased you down. You drifted in your scrambled thoughts as your feet walked out of reflex, your mind miles away, preoccupied with a certain pair of turquoise eyes. Perhaps you had a propensity for dark hues, but those had always just been mere dust in front of green shades. I’m not in my own mind anymore… I’m in someone else's... And I’m touching myself, I’m licking my lips, the tip of my tongue grazes over the scar on my upper lip, the heat of my breath comes from within a boiling body, my skin sizzles. I hum and I moan and I... hah, fuck, I think I just broke my heel, I’m so fekkin drunk. You dragged yourself to the elevator, your mind desperately hoping you were managing to keep yourself composed so the sweet old doorman wouldn't judge you as a drunken failure in life.

Why did you do this to yourself? And can you just not redirect all your remaining fluids to where they're not required before you're at least in your bed? Fuck, I can't... you'd been pushing the elevator button for a minute before you growled a tad too loud at the drunken realization you’d have to climb all 5 storeys in this wretched state you'd put yourself into.

Fine, just get your sorry ass up before you make a fool of yourself clowning around. Just one more and you're there. Fumbling for your keys in your bag, you leaned on the door and, to your surprise and annoyance, it opened. What the fuck, was I drunk before I left my apartment? How could I have forgotten to lock the damn door?

You felt sick to your stomach, you couldn't walk to the bed. You hadn't drunk so much for over a year, you’d forgotten how useless you were in this state. The couch would do for tonight. You almost dropped yourself to the floor, the couch not in the same position as you'd left it, but who cared. I'm never drinking again, you thought as you coiled around the pillow, a shoe dropping on the floor while the other hung half way. It smelled of cigarettes, most probably from your clothes.

A familiar enticing aftertaste of alcohol clawed its way out once again, you should have known this was coming. You wished he'd be there so you could release yourself to him, as frail as he was he'd surely handle you gently, and mmm wouldn't that feel sweet. The alcohol had just been a low end substitute to bury your frustrations and aches. Hah, even if he was here, you'd be useless. But that didn't stop you from dozing off to the thought of his gentle fingers strolling down your neck to your breasts, drawing circles on your waist before goin... down lo...

There was too much light in the room, as drunk as you’d been you’d forgotten to draw the curtains. You couldn't open your eyes, the headache was throbbing, so you rubbed your temples and turned your led limbs from the aching position you'd landed on as the most shameful drunk in this city.

Your mind thought you could take opening your eyes, and as you did you felt the alcohol pressuring your Adam's apple, a deep breath a flimsy stronghold to keep everything down. A deep breath that turned swiftly to a high pitched shriek at the sight of this man walking towards you dripping water off his naked body, a towel being rubbed onto his hair with both hands. You shrieked as you fell to the floor, hitting yourself against an unfamiliar coffee table, flagons of pills spilling all over it.

Oh shit, you heard him say as he hid behind the wall, peering at you but quieting his anxiety the more he looked.

'What are you... Y/N, you're in the wrong apartment! Shit, I need to put something on'

Oh god what had you done?? A sous chef could have mistaken you for a lobster and thrown you in a bucket of boiling water, you’d surely been simmering in that since the realization of how much of an idiot you were at walking into his apartment, of all damn places.

‘Oh my god, I am SO SORRY, I had a few too many drinks with my friends and I must have... I surely have climbed too many storeys to my place. I'll be out of your hair, I am so sorry!!!’ He'd been hopping throughout your dreams for the past weeks, you'd seen him naked so many times before, but not once in the flesh. You were flustered at the brazen realization of how far off you'd been as you fantasized about him bare before you. It was nerve wrecking, you wished you could just disintegrate into a million atoms and let the ground swallow you whole.

He chuckled as he returned in a half clothed state, clearly having shortened the process just to catch you before you shut the door behind you.

‘Yeah, the elevator was out of order yesterday. Hey, it's ok. You just really scared me, I wasn't expecting to find you on my couch, you know? You're... welcome to... stay a bit longer if you want. You look like you've had a rough night, I could whip out some breakfast and get you back on your feet. If you wish…’

He'd whipped out more than you'd thought he would a couple minutes ago, thank you very much for the extra sleepless nights.

‘Oh my god, no, I couldn't take advantage of you like that, I just slept on your couch uninvited, I am so horrible. Please excuse me, and thank you for not calling the cops on me.’

He'd smiled at you in the elevator before your heels had started flaming for him a few weeks back, but this was different. His whole face had lit up, his eyes sparkling as if emerald and jade had caught a reflection of the sun, his crooked tooth a tantalizing new discovery, especially as the scar on his lip etched itself deeper into your psyche. You were in his house, after all, where else would he feel most comfortable if not in his private, intimate home, one that you'd shamefully invaded and found him completely naked and wet.

‘They're on their way actually, I’m just stalling before they show up to escort you from my property.’

You chuckled as you held your temple, you must have been a disgusting mess, your makeup all smudged, on your face a decrepit layer of last nights overindulgence, and yet he made you laugh.

‘You're funny, Arthur... I'll take care of that myself, tell them it was a false alarm...’

As you opened the door to remove yourself from this torrent of shame, his voice stopped you in the doorstep.

‘Hey, you wanna… grab a coffee later tonight? It might help with that hangover’

‘You really want to go out after all this?’

‘Yeah!’ his eyebrow twitched in reflex, startling you at its sudden air of impertinence. You couldn't tell if your limbs had mellowed from alcohol, or his facial expressivity had been the melting catalyst. ‘Pajama night, I'll take you to the best Donut diner in town. 9 PM?’

You really wished you could process everything clearly, but he wasn't making it easier at all. ‘Alright then, pajama night it is!’

‘Great! Are you sure I can't help you to your place?’

‘Sorry to ask, what floor is this?’

‘6th.’

‘Oh, I’m right downstairs, maybe going down a flight of stairs will shake off this horrid hangover. Thanks again for... hosting me I guess, nice to see you again, Arthur. I'll see you later!’

You waved at him more in a futile attempt to cover your face as you stepped back out of that bubble of shame, feeling soaked to the bone. The droplets on his skin, he'd just gotten out of the shower, that routine gesture to slick back his hair, that wide morning gaze were mere special mentions as you went down the stairs, one other morning factor keeping your mind fully flustered as you unlocked your own front door this time.

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Thank you for reading this far! 🤡🖤

A special thank you to a few wonderful people who inspire me daily ❤❤❤

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