Fanfic Book Binding Novels & Stories

Like he was just… Arthur. She was the one for him. I didn’t need to see her to know that. A smile tugged at my lips before I looked back at the book in my lap. The pages were worn soft from too many hands, and the ink faded in places. But the symbols scrawled down the margin were different. My eyes caught on a passage that hadn’t stood out before. Dark binding rituals. Used to trap spirits. Or to keep souls from returning to their bodies… My heart skipped.

A volume dated 1465 had pages so fragile, they fluttered from the air stirred by her breath. Each book seemed to hum. Some in Latin. Some in Greek. Some in Italian so old, it might as well have been a spellbook. She paused on a slender blue-bound edition tucked between two thick encyclopedias. Its title was faded to nearly nothing, but the binding was intact. She gently pulled it free, feeling its weight—a delicate but stubborn thing. She opened it, and the scent of dust and pressed flowers met her. Inside the front page, a name had been written in looping calligraphy.

I decided, standing there in the quiet of the infirmary, that I was done being an onlooker in my own story. The weeks that followed passed by in a blur. I read every night in the little window seat in my room, Hex draped across my lap or sometimes across the book itself when he decided my attention belonged to him instead. The books the witches had given me were older than anything I'd touched before, brittle pages, ink faded to the color of weak tea, handwriting from at least three different people layered over each other across the years. Half of it read like poetry. The other half read like someone scribbling angry notes in the margins, arguing with whoever wrote the poetry in the first p

Information about dragon mating bonds was nearly nonexistent, spoken in the same hushed tones one might use when discussing a storm that could swallow the sea. The first book I pulled was heavy and dusty, the cover embossed with faded sigils. The binding creaked when I opened it, and the pages were dry and brittle under my fingers. The script within was neat but faded to the color of tea, and as I flipped through, I saw the signs immediately. Sections that had been deliberately torn out, whole paragraphs erased with care.

Finally feeling it I flicked it on and turned. "Holy shit," I mumbled in amazement. The rooms were shockingly gorgeous and oozed wealth. "You would be wealthy too if you lived as long as he has," Eva snorted as I lifted a leather-bound book. I flipped through the vellum pages and skimmed the calligraphy. The furniture was museum quality. I wandered into the bedroom and smelled the rich scent of the forest and flowers. I inhaled deeply and smiled but soon frowned seeing a photo of Lucian looking devastatingly handsome. I lifted the gold frame to look closer.

The cover was adorned with intricate, silver runes that shimmered in the light, and the pages were filled with stories, poems, and songs that Kie had collected from our adventures together. The book was titled "Whispers of the Stars," and it was a testament to the special bond between us. As I opened the book, the pages revealed memories, laughter, and tears we had shared, all woven into a tapestry of words that spoke directly to my heart. "Thank you, love, I love it!" I said kissing him too.

Not for them. For me. I stopped when something caught my eye, my fingers hovering over a familiar section of the shelf. The same place I had taken the herbal book from before. My hand moved without thinking, pulling another book free, the leather cover worn and aged like it had been waiting far longer than I had been here. I wiped a thin layer of dust from it with my palm, my eyes scanning the title slowly. Binding. The word alone made something in my chest tighten slightly. I stared at it for a moment longer before opening it carefully, the old pages shifting softly beneath my fingers. The scent of aged paper filled the air as I flipped through the first few pages, my eyes moving over the w

he wiggled his eyebrows at me comically and I laughed, nodding. He grabbed one of the boxes swiftly and handed it to me. It was the biggest one because my tiny hands were barely keeping it in place. He had a lazy, urging smile that I found sexy playing on his lips. I looked away from him and unknotted the ribbons. I pried the cover open and my eyes nearly popped out of their sockets as I retrieved the first book. "André!" I whisper-yelled, my voice laced with awe. Being a bibliophile had its perks because as I looked through the four books, with somewhat modern yet vintage covers in mature colours, alongside intricate golden threadings, I knew they were Fantasy books. Dark Romantasies.

But that only made it hotter, my clit pulsing against his thigh as I chased the build-up. “What if someone comes?” I whispered against his lips, but he just kissed me harder, tongue fucking my mouth. LThen they’ll hear you begging for my cock. Now, sit on the chair.” He pushed me toward the studying chair, and I dropped into it, legs spread wide, pussy glistening under the lamp light. He loosened his tie, wrapping it around my wrists, binding them behind the chair back. The silk bit into my skin, holding me in place, vulnerable and exposed.

I stretch up on my toes and pull it out, and seconds later I succeeded like I always do when I put my mind on things. Sending a cloud of dust motes swirling into the air while allowing it for a moment to escape from the shelf, I blew the dust from the cover. There were no words printed on the front or spine, just a simple black leather binding cracking with age, and strange symbol I do not recognize.