Thank You So Much, So Happy You Like It!!!

Thank you so much, so happy you like it!!! <3

Hello! It's me again, I have an idea once more. What if in the kingdom Brienne is staying at, the reader is a poet. The reader poems about her everyday, but doesn't think her love would be given back. So she settles for trying to make her day, every day. The reader wants to boost Brienne's confidence. So she leaves the poems where Brienne will find them. Until one day Brienne catches the reader. I'll leave the ending up to you though.

If my heart could speak

Pairing: Brienne of Tarth x Reader

Word Count: 1288

Warning: none

A/n: So this idea was really beautiful and I quite like how it turned out. Though I habe to admit I did not wrote the poems myself, I am rather the one for Epic rather than Lyric. So the first one is from Rupi Kaur, the second one is from Akexandra Vasiliu, the third one is from stefaniebriarpoetry from Instagram and the last one is from Kiersten White! I have just changed the pronouns in the third one to 'you'.

The day Brienne had arrived in the Kingdom and you had laid eyes on her, it had happened. You had fallen in love. Well, at the beginning you probably weren't really in love. But you were absolutely mesmerised by her beauty, her grace, her eyes, the stories behind them, her smile, her voice, everything about her. The falling in love had just happened, like a natural process.

All your life your poems had been inspired by the beauty you found in simple things. So it was no wonder that your poems started being about Brienne more and more, until at some point you didn't write about anything else but your love and adoration for her.

It was absolutely clear to you, that she's never reciprocate your feelings, why should she? You were just a poet, nothing as special as her, a knight. So you had settled with leaving your poems all around her, in places where you knew she would find them. She had implied that people hadn't always treated her nicely, so you made it your job to remind her of her own beauty.

The first poem you had felt was good enough to be seen by her eyes, was a very small one. You wanted to start little.

If you are broken

and they have left you

do not question

whether you were

enough

the problem was

you were enough

they were not able to carry it

It was small and yet it said everything it needed to say. You had sneaked into Brienne's room as she was away and put it on top her neatly folded night clothes on her bed.

With each time you got bolder in the choice of your poem, they got more specific, you opened up more. Showed more of your feelings.

If my heart could speak,

it would say to you,

"I will not let you go,

I will hold you

in my arms

forever."

This one you had placed on the chair she always sat on at dinner, right before she had come in, making sure she would actually get it. Before sneaking out you had looked at her, seeing her read it and a slight smile appearing. What you didn't see was the way her smile promptly left and Brienne looked around, a mix of anger and sadness on her face.

The next time you laid down the one you probably liked the most, it was purely about her beauty. The way you were absolutely in awe of her.

The sunlight caught your eyes,

the wind whipped your hair

around the curves of your face,

and I was undone...

desperate to trace constellations

between every freckle

and scar on your body:

your body that would burn for me,

wearing nothing but moonlight

until stirring with the dawn

our fingers still laced,

our tongues still eager by morning.

This one had found its place on the table in her room, together with some flowers you had picked for her. You sincerely hoped she hadn't seen you pick them and would find out that the poems were from you.

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

You had just sneaked into Brienne's room again, wanting to lay down the next poem. You saw the flowers you had picked and given her the day before, in a vase with water in them. Your heart swelled, and you stayed in her room just a moment too long. As you heard the door behind you open, you stiffened. How would you come out of this situation, hastily you grabbed the poem to hide it.

"(Y/n)? What are you doing here?" You slowly turned around, your mind rattling for an excuse.

"I-" you didn't get any further, as Brienne interrupt you. She had seen the paper in your hand.

"(Y/n), what do you have there?" As if it would help, you shoved it further behind your back.

"It's nothing, really." She didn't believe you, of course she didn't.

"Read it to me, please." You thought she looked scared, even sad. So you just did. You knew it'd probably ruin everything, but you just did it.

I didn't fall in love with you.

I walked into love with you,

with my eyes wide open,

choosing to take

every step along the way.

I do believe in fate and destiny,

but I also believe

we are only fated

to do the things

that we'd choose anyway.

And I'd choose you;

in a hundred lifetimes,

in a hundred worlds,

in any version of reality,

I'd find you, and I'd choose you.

Brienne's eyes filled with sadness, anger and confusion. You had messed it up, of course you had. You were so stupid.

"Why do you do this? Are you trying to mock me? Do you think this is funny?" Now you were confused, utterly. You had just told her that you were in love with her.

"I don't understand, what do you mean?" Brienne seemed to get angrier. Her voice louder than before and yet it seemed to break.

"You're making fun of me, with these poems. Putting them to places where I'll see them, ruining my day. People have called me cruel things, but no one has ever tried to hurt me so deeply." This was the actual opposite of your intention. So you had ruined it, but on a totally different way than you had thought.

You put the poem down and approached Brienne, wanting to put a hand in her arm. But she flinched, taking a step back.

"Don't touch me!" Her voice was thinner now, through suppressed tears. You took a step back.

"Ok, ok. I won't touch you. It's alright. But I'd like to speak, just listen. Is that okay? If you don't want to, I'll leave." You wanted to show her, that she was in control. You wouldn't do anything she didn't want.

"Talk." It lacked her usual kindness, but it was a confirmation nonetheless.

"First of all, I'm sorry if I've hurt you. In whatever way. That's the last thing I wanted to do. My initial thought was to brighten up your day. Show you how amazing you are, how much I love you. I apologise if I've overstepped." Brienne had sat down, while you were talking. She had calmed down and looked at you, still unsure whether to trust you or not.

"You don't mean that." It's just who she was, untrusting, unsure about herself. Not thinking she was loveable. She could tear herself away from those thoughts.

You slowly approached her, waiting if she'd send you away again. She didn't, so you kneeled down in front of her, gently taking her hand in yours.

"I do. More than I have ever meant anything in my life. All those poems, I've written them with you in mind. For I can't think of anything but you, since you have arrived. My mind is completely filled with you." She looked in your eyes, searching for any sign that you are lying. But to her own surprise she didn't find any. Your eyes were filled with honesty, love and adoration. Things she had never seen in anyone's eyes directed towards her.

Ashamed of her own feelings, all she could say was: "What if I'd happen to feel quite similar?"

Your eyes shone, she was sure now of your truthfulness.

"That, Brienne, would make me the happiest person alive." You stood up a little and leaned into her, gently stroking her cheek, making her blush under your touch. Before you could overthink it, you mildly kissed her. Capturing the salty remains of a tear. Moving away and looking at her, you could just smile. Over how happy you were, but mostly over the bright red that graced Brienne's cheek.

I feel extremely called out, no one should ever see my search history

This is absolutely fair

of course i have a praise kink, i'm a burnt out former gifted child.

when one character brokenly says “i have nothing to offer you” and the other character looks at them with fond exasperation, because there’s nothing else they could want except the gift of their love. that shit gets me.

Ello! i love ur works and i just wanna request a Larissa Weems x Daughter! Reader prompt.

Reader's feeling sick but she insists on attending class as usual. She doesn't want to tell Larissa because she don't want to add stress or burden to her already tired mom. But later on Larissa found out through one of the teachers or like one of reader's friend. I just want fluffff and I love the way you writeeee thank uuuuuu <33

You're not a burden

Pairing: Larissa Weems x daughter!Reader

Word Count: 463

Warning: none (?)

A/n: As you said yourself, I've written something very similar. But I'm a sucker for Larissa as a mother so I still wanted to write it! <3

You had woken up, feeling exhausted. Even though you had just slept for eight hours. It felt like your whole body ached. Standing up you nearly fell back down onto the bed, seeing black for a second and feeling your circulation nearly collapse. For a short moment you thought about staying home, but then your mum would want to stay too, and she had so much to do already. You didn't want to burden her, so you tried to pull yourself together and got ready for school.

"Are you alright, honey? You look a little sick." Larissa looked at you, worried.

"It's alright mum. I'm just not really woken up yet." Your mum put a plate with eggs and some bread in front of you, and stopped to tousle through your hair.

"Is that so, sleepyhead." She laughed and sat down with you to eat. You really didn't have any appetite but for your mother's sake, you choked the food down. Making you almost throw up ten minutes later.

The day was horrible, you couldn't concentrate and felt like falling asleep the whole time. You had drunken about three litres of water already and still had a headache. Of course that didn't go unnoticed by your teachers.

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

"Principle Weems, do you have a second?"

"Of course, Marilyn. What is it?"

"If your daughter isn't better until tomorrow, maybe she should just stay home." Larissa was confused, you had been well this morning, hadn't you?

"What'd wrong with her?" Concern overtaking her features.

"She was exhausted the whole day, neatly falling a sleep. I think she might have a fever."

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

"Honey?" Larissa had rushed to your apartment immediately.

"Honey, are you there?" She rushed through the rooms, looking for you. In your room, already laying in bed she found you.

"Oh, (Y/n). You should have just told me that you were sick this morning. You could have stayed home." You slowly turned around to look at your mother, sitting on the edge of your bed.

"I know, but I didn't want to burden you with even more work. You're always so stressed already." Larissa warmly smiled at you, kissing your forehead.

"Darling, you're never a burden, and you're not work. You're my daughter, and I'll gladly care for you. I'll always have time for that, no matter what's going on. Ok?" You nodded and watched her leave and come back with all sorts of things to make you feel better. She messed your temperature and gently did calf wraps, she brought you water and some painkillers. She cuddled you and let you sleep in her arm.

Needless to say that the next day, you did in fact stay home. And Larissa did too. Caring for you and loving you all day long.

I want need her to look at me like that.

I think I just forgot how breathing works