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libraryofivy · 3 years
Text
Monster - R.A
Pairing - Russell Adler x gn!bell/reader
Requested? - No
Word Count - 600
Warnings - Spoilers for the end of BO:CW, lots of angst, some swearing (if that needs a warning)
A/N - This was an idea I'd had for a very long time, but I finally managed to get it down in words! Also! this is my first time writing for Adler, so any feedback is appreciated! Requests for headcanons and fics are open, so please do send in some things!
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A shot rings out in the air, the silence between you now broken by your screams as you realise you've been shot. Your hand goes to the bullet wound, applying some pressure gently, but your legs give way and you find yourself on the hard ground, the impact causing a jolt of pain to rush through your body. 
Adler stands there, unmoving. He stares down at your form, thoughts rushing through his head as he comes to terms with his actions and their repercussions. 
'Russ?' you weakly cry out, arm reaching towards the man who stands in front of you, guilt evident on his scarred features.  He settles himself beside you, gently taking you into his arms, trying to avoid causing any additional pain. You swear you feel a dampness upon your hairline, but you're not quite sure if it's blood off of your hands or his tears, too exhausted from the pain that consumes your body. His calm nature is unsettling, but in a strange way almost reassuring. As unconsciousness takes over you, he holds you close in his arms, wishing that he could rewind time. 
---
He had been home for a few weeks, and yet he still felt as if he was back on that clifftop, holding you in his arms as you took your final breaths. The scene plays on his mind at every opportunity, and when it comes to its climax, it's rewound like a vhs tape back to the very beginning. 
He swears he can see you sometimes, passing him in the street as he walks to get groceries, in the bar at night where he goes to drink his sorrows and finally sitting at his kitchen table in the early hours of the morning when he's unable to sleep. He thought that the pain would go away soon after leaving Solovetsky, but the isolating loneliness of his home only allows the thoughts to flood his mind. 
What kept him up most nights was knowing that you died knowing nothing about yourself. He had ripped that all away in the name of the greater good, deconstructed who you were, your life before him and the mission. The false memories he had implanted, the person he had created from the rubble of you, that's all you knew. Sometimes he even deceived himself, thinking that what he had done was the correct thing to do, that it was all necessary. But he quickly saw the truth. He had destroyed your identity, he was to blame. And what was it all for? you were dead, buried on Soviet soil, and all he had left of you were the memories he created. 
And his speech before he shot you? Saying that it was nothing personal. How could he lie to himself, of course it was personal. It only took losing you for him to realise how much he cared for you. Sure, there had been some flirtatious comments passed between the two of you and a once off kiss on mission to prevent your cover being blown, but he never truly realised how he felt. The whole situation was fucked up, he had fallen in love with you, while also controlling you and the person you would become.  And knowing that you felt something for him too, the pit in his stomach deepened whenever he thought of that. The whole relationship was wildly manipulative, he had forced you into unwavering loyalty, and without his manipulation you probably would never have loved him. No one could willingly love a monster like Russell Adler, especially not after what he had done. 
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libraryofivy · 3 years
Text
I absolutely adore your characterisation of everyone, it's just so good! Can't wait to read the rest! ❤️
𝘿𝙪𝙨𝙩𝙮 𝙃𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙩𝙨
Pairing; Jesper Fahey x Fem!Reader
tw; Minor profanity, Alcohol, Nothin' really 🤷‍♀️ i didn't proofread tho
a/n- I call this; my love for this man is overflowing and i need to get it out sjwjjew, anyways, part one 💕
Next chapter >
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You honestly didn't remember what time you woke up, nor how long you'd been watching the sun rise above the horizon, but what you did know was how extremely lucky you were, not only because the window in your room was perfectly aligned with the rising sun each and every morning, but because of where you were today.
You first met your flock of Crows when they managed to track you down whilst you were out running errands. A little birdie had apparently told them about the stunning young woman who was able to kick the asses of three men with only her hands. Of course you'd scoffed at this and tried to play dumb. It had worked at first, until they heard the clicks of your boot heels on the concrete whilst you ran, afterall, someone who wasn't guilty wouldn't run as if their life depended on it, especially in a situation like this. So, of course, you were captured and forced into whatever nonsense the Bastard Of The Barrel had planned. That very same day Kaz had asked you to join his Crows, taking you under his wing like a mother duck to her little duckling. You used to be so sure you hated that day, the fear and dread you had felt, but looking back at the memory gave you a sense of adventure, and now, belonging, you knew you wouldn't be where you were today if that day hadn't happened, and you were thankful for if that day had never came to be you'd never of met him.
Jesper Fahey had left quite the impression on you when you'd first met so it wasn't much of a surprise you fell head over heels for the Sharpshooter once you got to know him. He treated you with respect and care, but he couldn't help but throw in a suggestive comment or two every now and then, earning him a flustered glare from you. You didn't hate it of course, you hated that he did that with practically everyone, so of course it left you feeling a little down each and every time. Who wouldn't if they though they had no chance with the love of their life. But you pushed through, burying your feelings towards the charming man for another day, keeping up your facade of the heartless Fist-Fighter that the Pigeons would sometimes murmur to eachother about, because this was all just business, right?... right?
Your train of thought was interrupted by a few gentle knocks at the door, you turned your head away from your window towards the squeaky plank of wood, your gaze settling on the figure stepping slightly through your doorway. It was Inej. She gave you a soft smile, one you had returned, before she gently spoke, "Good morning y/n, Kaz wants us all in his office within the next twenty minutes" She didn't give you any time to respond before she closed the door, a sigh had left your mouth before you even realised as you forced yourself up on your feet. Your eyes skimmed through your small range of clothing before you made your choice. You pulled your jacket up your sleeves and over your shoulders, fixing up the collar to the way you liked it. It was your favourite jacket, the fabric was in your favourite colour, smooth and soft to the touch, embroidered with details in shiny golden thread, but most importantly, it was a gift from Jesper, a gift that made you feel oh so precious, yet gave you a sense of power. You weren't expecting it of course, but it was welcomed none the less. You'd never of though the Sharpshooter would go out of his way to get something so high quality for you, and yet here you were. The memory leaving a smile on your face as you did up your boots.
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You walked through the pillars into the bosses office. Your three fellow Crows all turning their heads to look at you, the smile on Jespers face was bright and infectious as he scanned over you, his heart skipped a beat when he saw you in the jacket he'd gotten. You were utterly clueless to his feelings. He absolutely adored you, you were his light on dark, gloomy days, and though he thought you deserved oh so much better then him, he still wanted to be the one to make you happy, he wanted to be the one to calm you down, he wanted to be the one who held you at night, who smothered you with love and kisses. "You're late" Kaz spoke, an eyebrow raised as he watched you enter, "I only took, like, ten minutes, Boss" you'd sassed, taking the seat closest to Jesper, Kaz quickly dropped it, moving onto why they were there.
Though you hadn't paid much attention to what Kaz was saying, you had picked up a few of the important things about this job, some rich Merchant bloke had done something wrong to Kaz and some of his business acquaintances and now you had to sneek in, steal some paperwork and valuables and get out, same old-same old, pretty simple stuff, you didn't question the Boss about it, you did this type of thing a lot. You had a day to prepare, this Merchants house was all the way on the other side of town.
You had what was left of today and all of tomorrow to think things through, so of course you did what any other person would do, you spent the night in the Crow Club, drinking booze and wandering around the club, trying your best to avoid the sweaty, heated crowds of the Dregs as well as the nasty, pervy men who'd been trying to slither their filthy way between your legs, it made you sick and your face would always mirror your disgust as you'd scoff and tell them to piss off. You'd decided to settle down at the bar, asking for another refill so you could once again go over your thoughts. Today had been quite uneventful, you spent a majority of it up in your room at the Slat, painting and cleaning things as well as preparing for the journey, whilst Kaz and Inej were out gathering some things and Jesper was gambling his money away. You slipped on your drink as a figure sat next to you, you turned your head to the right and there he was, Jesper Fahey, himself "Hey" he'd said, a smile on his face "You come here often?" You'd scoffed a laugh at his pathetic joke, but it still had managed to bring a smile to your face, "Don't you have a door to guard, Fahey?" You'd teased, looking at him with mischief as he scoffed, "Here I am, blessing you with my handsome face and glorious presence, and you want me to guard a door?" He said in a teasing tone, eyes gleaming with the same mischief yours had, you let out a little laugh, "No, I'd rather you'd stay and keep me company, but I doubt the Boss would like that" ending your sentence in a small sing-song tone as you took a mouthful of your drink and turned your eyes away from him, his eyes shifted to your lips for a second before you both made eye contact again, "Anything you need me for, Jesper?" You genuinely asked, happy to help the man who'd managed to steal your heart without him even realising, "Oh, there are many things I need you for, love" he flirted, you'd raised an eyebrow at him, your heart was pounding against your chest, "You looked like you needed some company" He smiled at you, genuine and caring. You adored his smile, it meant everything to you, it showed you who he really was and what made him happy. You smiled back, "You're company is always welcome, dear Jesper, and who knows..." You leaned in closer to him, "Maybe one day I might take you up on your offers" You knew it was the alcohol that gave you this sudden small burst of confidence, but saints was it so pleasing to see the suprise on his face. Ah, the things you did to him, he watched as you downed the rest of your drink you got up, "I'll cya tomorrow Jesper, have a good night" You'd smiled at him, "Uh, yeah, yeah night, y/n" he managed to get out before you walked out the club, leaving Jesper with, not only his thoughts, but the memory of you. He sat there and stared at your glass for a minute or two, the leftover ice was starting to melt and there was a gloss print from where your lips had met the glass, saints, he had to do something about this sooner or later.
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Though you were known for your ability to fight with your hands, that never stopped you from bringing a plan B. You tucked in a little dagger into each of your boots, this Merchant was wealthy and the wealthy usually had some type of security, so if you ended up getting knocked down onto your ass or back you'd be able to reach down and shank them in the legs, after all, it was better to be safe then sorry. The day before had passed quicker then you would've liked unfortunately, so there you stood with your birds of a feather, sachel hung from your shoulder, a hand holding onto the strap to keep it in place as the other rested in your pocket, a huff left your lips forming into a small cloud of steam before disappearing into the atmosphere, did Kaz really have to leave you three waiting in the freezing cold? You couldn't of sat inside and waited? Jesper stood next to you on your right, fiddling with one of his beloved revolvers and Inej next to him, watching out for your ride, "Somethin' bothering you, Pet?" Jesper asked, eyes now focused on you as he put the pearl handled weapon back in it's holster on his side, you turned your head to look at him, "Yea, it's feckin' cold" You complained, "Why couldn't we of waited inside" Your eyebrows frowned slightly in annoyance. Jesper chuckled, pushing himself off the wall he was leaning against and putting his arm around you, pulling you into his side as his hand rubbed your arm in hopes to warm you up, "I know a few ways I could warm you up, love" He flirted, you leaned into him, welcoming his touch as you let out a little scoff, your nose scrunching at his comment, "Only in your dreams, Fahey" you remarked causing the young man to chuckle. The sound of hooves and wheels against the earth reached your ears, "He's here" Inej had muttered loud enough for you and Jesper to hear before walking towards the carriage, meeting it half way before getting in, you'd hummed before unwantedly removing yourself from Jespers grasp and getting into the carriage yourself, sitting next to Inej and tucking your satchel under your seat with the back of your heels. Not long after Jesper got into the carriage as well, closing the door behind him and taking a seat next to Kaz, right infront of you, 'Fan-fecking-tastic' You thought to yourself, As much as you loved him, the idea of having to look at Jesper for most of the trip made you want to explode, "Are we gonna stay somewhere tonight, or?" You asked, the carriage beginning to move as you spoke, "Yes, in a hotel, not too far from our destination" Kaz said, his eyes focused on outside the window as you moved past, you nodded slightly and licked your lips, turning your gaze towards Jesper, he took his hat off, freeing his darling, fluffy hair before smirking at you, "Like what you see?" You huffed a small laugh, this was gonna be a long ride.
xxx
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libraryofivy · 3 years
Text
'The Baron' Miniseries - H.Z
A Regency AU masterlist
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The Baron
The Baroness (Sequel)
The Baron and the Baroness (Epilogue)
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libraryofivy · 3 years
Text
thank you so much! that's so incredibly sweet of you to say so 😭
The Baron and The Baroness - H.Z (Regency AU)
Epilogue to 'The Baron' miniseries
Pairing - Zemo x f!reader
Word Count - 468
Warnings - None
A/N - So this is it! The final part of this miniseries. Thank you for all the love I've had on this series, what started out as a one shot has turned into a miniseries I'm actually very proud of, and thank you for being a part of this!
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The proposal was unexpected. You had only been courting for only a few weeks, and despite how quick everything went, it felt right. The bond between the pair of you was nothing society had ever seen before, a love match for the ages.
You were taking a stroll down by the riverside with your handsome Baron, enjoying the gentle, but warm, breeze of the summer air. Everything was perfect, the flowers were blooming bright, the birds singing their songs as they flitted in between the trees. There were other couples walking through the park on this sunny afternoon. You had bumped into an old friend from childhood and had exchanged a few words, before you parted and continued your walk with the Baron on your arm.
Approaching a nearby oak tree, he came to a halt, removing his arm from yours and turning to face you. You gave him a concerned look, a million thoughts rushing through your head as you wondered what he could possibly be up to.
'My dear, there is something that is ever on my mind that I must speak aloud, I cannot contain myself any longer' He starts, taking your hand in his as he looks at you with all the admiration in the world.
'Y/N, will you marry me?' He asks, looking towards you waiting for an answer.
He noticed the shocked expression on your face, and momentarily was frightened, until that look turned into a wide smile and you couldn't contain your happiness for much longer.
'Of course I will' you respond, leaving him in no more suspense. He smiles, taking your arm in his again.
'come, my love, we have an engagement to announce'
~~~
The wedding was held in his ancestral estate, soon to be your new home, in Sokovia. It was a luxurious event, with the nobility from across Europe being invited.
Everything was lavishly decorated, even down to the most miniscule details such as silver engraved candlestick holders and floral bouquets of your favourite flowers.
There was no doubt in your mind that Zemo had spent far too much money on you and your wedding, but he only wanted the best for his future wife, his Baroness. Your parents came all the way to Sokovia for the wedding, and you hadn't seen them as excited as this since you were a young girl.
The ceremony passed quickly, exchanging vows, being officially declared as husband and wife. The post ceremony celebrations continued into the early hours of the morning, before the rain started pouring down and calling the festivities to a swift end. You went to bed that evening happier than ever before, and when you woke in the morning laying next to your husband, you knew this was a life you could get used to quite easily.
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libraryofivy · 3 years
Text
The Baron and The Baroness - H.Z (Regency AU)
Epilogue to 'The Baron' miniseries
Pairing - Zemo x f!reader
Word Count - 468
Warnings - None
A/N - So this is it! The final part of this miniseries. Thank you for all the love I've had on this series, what started out as a one shot has turned into a miniseries I'm actually very proud of, and thank you for being a part of this!
Part 1 - The Baron
Part 2 - The Baroness
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The proposal was unexpected. You had only been courting for only a few weeks, and despite how quick everything went, it felt right. The bond between the pair of you was nothing society had ever seen before, a love match for the ages.
You were taking a stroll down by the riverside with your handsome Baron, enjoying the gentle, but warm, breeze of the summer air. Everything was perfect, the flowers were blooming bright, the birds singing their songs as they flitted in between the trees. There were other couples walking through the park on this sunny afternoon. You had bumped into an old friend from childhood and had exchanged a few words, before you parted and continued your walk with the Baron on your arm.
Approaching a nearby oak tree, he came to a halt, removing his arm from yours and turning to face you. You gave him a concerned look, a million thoughts rushing through your head as you wondered what he could possibly be up to.
'My dear, there is something that is ever on my mind that I must speak aloud, I cannot contain myself any longer' He starts, taking your hand in his as he looks at you with all the admiration in the world.
'Y/N, will you marry me?' He asks, looking towards you waiting for an answer.
He noticed the shocked expression on your face, and momentarily was frightened, until that look turned into a wide smile and you couldn't contain your happiness for much longer.
'Of course I will' you respond, leaving him in no more suspense. He smiles, taking your arm in his again.
'come, my love, we have an engagement to announce'
~~~
The wedding was held in his ancestral estate, soon to be your new home, in Sokovia. It was a luxurious event, with the nobility from across Europe being invited.
Everything was lavishly decorated, even down to the most miniscule details such as silver engraved candlestick holders and floral bouquets of your favourite flowers.
There was no doubt in your mind that Zemo had spent far too much money on you and your wedding, but he only wanted the best for his future wife, his Baroness. Your parents came all the way to Sokovia for the wedding, and you hadn't seen them as excited as this since you were a young girl.
The ceremony passed quickly, exchanging vows, being officially declared as husband and wife. The post ceremony celebrations continued into the early hours of the morning, before the rain started pouring down and calling the festivities to a swift end. You went to bed that evening happier than ever before, and when you woke in the morning laying next to your husband, you knew this was a life you could get used to quite easily.
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libraryofivy · 3 years
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this was so cute! I love the dynamic you built between them!!
Nights out with Jesper would include:
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(because I'm back and I know how much y'all need me ✋🙄💅🥰)
It all started when one night you were both extremely restless
You both had so much on your minds that sleep seemed impossible
You layed there, head on his shoulder, eyes closed
Jespers arm wrapped around you, whilst his other rested behind his head
When you murmur out
"I can't sleep"
He moves his head a little to glance at your face before responding with
"Me neither"
You open up your eyes to look at him
You see him looking at you with the softest look on his face
His smile makes you smile
"Let's do something, something that'll keep our mind off of things" you say gently
You see something flash in his eyes and before you could even think
his cheeky smile spread across his face
"I can think of a few things, love"
You scoffed and gently flicked him on his nose whilst he chuckled
You laughed softly before making a suggestion
"Star gaze with me?"
The way you looked at him made Jesper feel like he was the only person in the world
He's in love with you
How could he say no to something so romantic?
How could he say no to you?
And so it became a routine
When you both couldn't sleep you'd go out and watch the stars together
and if it rained you strolled through it under an umbrella
sometimes you'd both slow dance in the rain
not caring if it soaked through your clothes and onto your skin
you'd both end up soaking in a warm bath after anyways
so why not enjoy the blissful, carefree moment
where it was just you and him
souls intertwined and a love so strong it could make someone sick
These moments
where Jesper and you could let go of all your struggles and worries
whilst in the company of eachother
revealing ones truest self
is both his and your favourite pastime
well
that, and one other thing *wink, wink*
xxxx
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libraryofivy · 3 years
Text
no strings
MY MASTERLIST
song: somebody else by the 1975
pairing(s): helmut zemo x queer!afab!reader
summary: Helmut sees you at Sharon's party in Madripoor, and ruminates on what is, and what could be.
words: 1,510
warnings: explicit (18+ MINORS DNI), descriptions of sexual encounters, angst, literally just pure angst i'm not sorry, mentions of dark!zemo, mentions of murder and canon-typical violence
additional notes: I wrote this and edited it and am posting it all while wine drunk, without a beta. Boney apple teeth.
taglist blog: @rosemareblogs
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“Our love has gone cold, you’re intertwining your soul with somebody else.” -The 1975
There are times when Helmut feels the consequences of his actions more profoundly than normal. Like, for example, the sting of James’ metal hand digging into his neck, cutting off his circulation. Or, perhaps, the ache in his chest, seeing you here tonight.
He knew it was a possibility, of course. A slim possibility, but a possibility nonetheless. He chalks it up to fate, he supposes, and terrible karma. That sort of thing follows you around like a dog, after you’ve ruined a number of innocent lives in the name of vengeance.
But still, his eyes follow you like he can’t get enough of the torture. They linger on your hair, reflecting the blue light of the dancefloor in Sharon Carter’s impressive entry hall. They follow the swaying movement of your hips to the slow, sultry beat of the music, and the tempting curve of your ass in those tight jeans- and he recalls, with a sour taste in the back of his throat, how he knows the way you feel beneath them, intimately.
In fact, it is not the type of thing a man easily forgets. And Helmut never forgets; his mind is sharp as a knife, his memory that of an elephant. Even if he wanted to, you had proved something of a vice that he clung to, all those nights in prison, alone with nothing but his thoughts and his wandering hands to pass the time. While he would think of Heike and Carl fondly, their memory something of a security blanket, a warmth that comforted him after a terrible pain, your memory was something more of… an indulgence, to say the least.
That’s what it had been, between you. An indulgence. A distraction, for a time. “No strings,” you had whispered to him the night he’d met you, at a seedy bar in Low Town after meeting with Selby to buy enough C-4 to level a small village. Which he had then used to bomb the UN, but who needs to think about that now? Helmut certainly isn’t. What happened after his time with you seemingly has no bearing on reality, or he wouldn’t be here tonight.
No strings. Strings, being figurative and up for interpretation, he liked to tell himself. Not like the strings of the little black dress you’d worn that night; the ones he’d so quickly pulled apart that it was a wonder they’d held up the garment at all. Not the kiss he pressed into the curve of your neck, nor the mark of his teeth on your shoulder or the soft sigh escaping from your lips into the night air when his fingers had dipped between your thighs.
He had not been as giving then as he could be with you now; he had been too concerned with his own needs, his own desperation to feel something, anything, other than the anger and bitterness turning rancid within him. With enough years, that pain has faded to a dull ache. He is a bit softer now, in both physical appearance and disposition, but he likes to think that he’d please you as well as he did then. Perhaps moreso.
No strings. He had to be such a fool to convince himself of that. What was a meaningless little tryst amongst the grand scheme of things? It couldn’t hurt… oh, but it does now, with a passion. It burns him like hellfire to see you there, looking as lovely as the day he left your bedside, without a word or a letter of warning. He had wondered if you’d been one of the many who had disappeared in the so-called Blip, while he had been left to live out his sorry days in a cell.  Seeing you in the blue and purple light, with laughter on your lips and glitter on your cheeks, it’s apparent that you were. For you, it has been- what, four years? For him it has been nine.
Nine long years, and each time he closes his eyes, when his desire wins over and lust creeps in, he sees you. He feels you, because how could he not? You had been the last beautiful thing he felt, before he’d gone off to seal his fate. He feels your hands in his hair, pulling his head back so that you can lick a hot stripe up the column of his throat, to meet his mouth with a fervent kiss. He feels your nails clawing at his back, leaving long, red marks that had taken weeks to fade. Even after he had gone on the run, he would pause in the hotel room mirror and examine the red striping on his back, just before he’d cover it again and move on (Out of sight, out of mind, right?). He feels your smooth skin on his, the sheen of sweat on your lower back making his hands falter, making him grip you that much harder, giving you bruises he’d found in the morning with (only slight) remorse.
But above all this, he feels your heat, engulfing him, devouring him, your darling body so willing to take all of him in, even when you whimpered like it was too much. He feels your shudder, your hands gliding up his chest as your hips met his. And he feels you come undone, clinging to him like he was more than just a villain, sighing his name like the sweetest prayer he’d ever heard.
No strings. But there are strings, pulling him toward you once again, as they have been relentlessly since the night he met you. He’d made sure of that when he agreed to your terms; Helmut has always been a lover, in the depths of his being. He has turned entire organizations upside down, he has killed world leaders, for love. He would do it all again, for love. He had indeed been such a fool, to think there would be no strings, when he can’t deny his nature any more than he can deny that he has thought of you more times than he can count, and relived the pleasure of that night one thousand times over in the process.
He entertains the idea of doing it all again, as he watches you now. He imagines himself bumping into you and giving you a cheeky little, “Fancy seeing you here,” as though he hasn’t been staring at you for what is likely going on twenty minutes, loitering by the bar with a half downed whisky in hand. He imagines you laughing, and it sounding as sweet as it did all those years ago, when you’d bumped into him in Selby’s bar, and made him spill his drink. And you’d offered to buy him a new one, for Christ’s sake.
He imagines how you might rub up against him on the dance floor, like you are right now to the woman behind you with the pink hair. He imagines your hands guiding his own hips, because he’s never been much of a dancer, but he’d let you teach him if you wanted to. He imagines you turning around and whispering in his ear again, “No strings,” but you would both know that there will be. At least, now there can be.
He imagines your lips on his neck, and your fingers fumbling with his belt buckle. He imagines taking you… anywhere, really. The bathroom, the roof, the guest room that Sharon kindly offered to the party of impromptu vigilantes he’d arrived with. He imagines the sound of your moans, like honey. Like the term of endearment you called him a number of times that evening. He doesn’t know if he’ll ever let another person call him honey, unless it’s you.
But it won’t be. He knows that fully well, when you turn and wrap your arm around the neck of the woman you are dancing with, and draw her lips to yours. Does he feel jealous, watching you find your pleasure with someone else, after all this time? Perhaps. But she seems kind. She holds you like something to be cherished, as you are. And she is beautiful, of course, but not as beautiful as you.
No, Helmut cannot fault you for keeping to your promise, for moving on from the one night you spent together, for living your life in a way that he never could, and never will. So he downs the rest of his drink, and finds James in the crowd, speaking with Sam in the shadow of a stolen Van Gogh.
He takes one last look at you, pressing your forehead to your lovely partner’s with a gleeful smile on your face, to satisfy himself with the knowledge that you’ve found your happiness. That, in many cases, is just as well as the idea of ‘what could have been.’
Helmut will never know that you thought of him, too, more times than you can count. And, despite the happiness you’ve found, you still do.
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libraryofivy · 3 years
Text
congrats on 150+ followers! ❤️
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Wow guys - I’ve reached 150 followers! Thank you so much for following and especially those who like and comment on my work. Special shout out to my lovely bread squad, Lau and Mernie, and the lovely Sarah and Sophie 💕
To celebrate I thought I’d write some drabbles. Send me a prompt from this list and either a character or pairing and I’ll write a little something 🥰
Tagging some of my lovely mutuals: @morosemagick @lauwrite1225 @solinarimoon @obipoelover @maggiescarborough @magravenwrites @osferth @for-bebbanburg @geekandbooknerd @evelynshelby @93xdiagonxalley @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie @trenko-heart @libraryofivy @promenadewithme @axe-does-writing @thebohemianpenguin @unlockyourmind-wp @lazypeachsoul @sihtricisall @whiskeywitch @aadmelioraa @naps4bats
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libraryofivy · 3 years
Note
Please write an epilogue to "The Baron".
Hi Anon!
Thanks for your interest in the series! I'm in the process of planning it out, so check back in about a week or so! ❤️
Update: I just posted it, here it is!
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libraryofivy · 3 years
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I wonder what it’s like to be loved by you // Benedict Bridgerton
Summary: You’ve loved him for as long as you can remember. Is this the season where he finally realises?
A/N: I LOVE BENEDICT. I love him so much. What do I have to do to get a Benedict? Title is from Shawn Mendes - Wonder. I had so much fun writing this fic, I can’t wait to write more for the Bridgerton fandom! I truly hope you all like it, let me know what you think please?
Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x Fem!Reader
Warnings: swearing, mentions of food and drink, fluff, pining, mutual pining, dancing, balls, obliviousness, friends to lovers, she/her pronouns, a lot of history - I am a historian after all and this is the regency era.
Word count: 4.8k
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libraryofivy · 3 years
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this was so beautifully written 😭
We're Not Monsters
pairing: matthias x fem!tidemaker!reader
warnings: drowning; swearing; matthias calling reader drüsje; reader calling matthias drüskelle
a/n: oh dear lord this is so long but i haven't slept in 36 hours im about to pass out
You could sense the water in his lungs.
You'd barely made it to shore, lying on the sand on your back, feeling the rain pelting down on your face. Your clothes were drenched—the white tunic and beige trousers you wore sticking to your skin.
You were exhausted—not just physically, but you could feel the drain of your power. And you were hungry. And cold. And fatigued. And downright miserable.
But you were alive. That had to count for something, you supposed.
Slowly, forcing your aching muscles to move, you pushed yourself to sit up. Your body groaned in protest, but you lifted a hand, bracing your forehead into the crook of your thumb and index finger, shielding your eyes from the rain, and looked out towards the waters.
That was when you saw him—that gigantic, useless lump of muscle draped over the broken mast of the ship. You couldn't tell if he was moving, or if he was even breathing, but you could sense the water in his lungs, like a whispered secret the ocean had chosen to share with you.
Even through the storm, you could see that he wore Fjerdan black, that he was one of the men who had captured you.
You were half-tempted to leave him behind, or better yet, drown him where he lay. But he was helpless, and he was human, no matter how monstrous his actions towards your kind were.
Goddamn morals.
You pushed yourself to your feet. You didn't even wait to gather the energy—you just took off running, the weight of your drenched clothes slowing you down. But the call of the water hummed through your veins as you waded in, letting the storm pull you into its depths before you began to swim, your limbs cutting through the tide, your dwindling power doing its best to assist you.
He was unconscious, you hoped. Even though you'd rather deal with a dead body than a drüskelle.
You pulled his clammy, ridiculously heavy arm over your head, draping the limb over your shoulder. And then you began to swim, fighting againt both the waves of the ocean and the exhaustion in your veins. The waters did their best to pull the two of you apart, but you held on like your life depend on it—because his did.
When you finally clawed your way up the beach, you were ready to pass out. But you had to do something about the drüskelle—never mind the fact that he had been on his way to take you to the Ice Court and send you merrily to your death.
You braced your hands against his chest, reaching out with your powers, feeling the pull of the water that made up most of his being. There—you could feel it, feel the seawater in his lungs. You willed it to come up though his esophagus, to leave his body, to spare his life.
For a frightening moment, nothing happened. You had the terrifying thought that maybe your power had not been enough—ridiculous as it was. But even the most powerful tidemaker in General Zoya Nazyalensky's Second Army had her limits.
But then he sputtered, water spewing out of his mouth, coughing like his lungs were about to crawl out of his throat.
You stumbled backwards, once, two, three paces, still on your knees. He twisted his body to the side, leaning his weight on one arm, coughing up water till there was nothing left.
And then he looked up at you.
He was beautiful.
There was no other way to say it, no other way to describe it. His hair was the color of woven gold, and even under the stormy grey skies, it had a certain shine to it.
But his eyes—oh, Saints, his eyes.
His eyes were blue—not the blue of calm blue skies or the ocean in the summer. No, his eyes were icy cold, the color so much like hellfire frozen over.
And right now, they were ablaze with something you could only describe as pure loathing.
"Drüsje." His voice was hoarse, raspy from the amount of water he had ingested. You were sure his throat felt raw, but frankly, you couldn't bring yourself to care. You'd saved his life. Moral obligations could only go so far, no matter how attractive he was.
"Right," you said. "Lovely to meet you too, big man. It's great form, calling someone names right after they saved your life. Are all Fjerdans this rude, or do you just have saltwater up your ass?"
"Drüsje," he repeated. Then, slowly, like he couldn't quite believe it, he said, "You saved my life?"
It sounded more like a question than a statement. "Yes, you big brainless podge. I usually accept thanks in the form of animal sacrifices or gold."
He frowned, his brows drawing together, a tiny crease appearing at the center of his forehead as he repeated, "You saved my life."
You sighed, fighting the exhaustion threatening to pull you under. All that swimming, and completely draining your power had left you exhausted. Who knew saving someone's life was so tiring.
"How daft are you, drüskelle? Yes, I saved your life. All you have to do now is thank me and move on, alright?" you said. You were so tired.
His icy eyes moved downward from your face, down the column of your throat to your shoulders to—
His cheeks colored, like sunsets spilling over pale skin, and he scrambled to his feet. He took off the heavy coat he wore, revealing the fine cut of the uniform underneath, and he handed his coat to you. The fabric was dripping water even as he said, his eyes anywhere but your own, "Cover yourself up, drüsje."
Your eyes widened. All of a sudden you were very aware of the thin material of your tunic sticking to your skin, the fact that the white of the material was nearly see-through.
You took the jacket from him, slipping it on. The weight was nearly too much for your fatigued body to bear, but you weren't about to let this man see you falter.
Instead, you batted your long lashes at him. "Who knew the Fjerdans were such gentlemen?"
"It was only proper," he replied grumpily, still refusing to look at you. "We're not monsters."
"No," you answered, feeling your anger rise, hot and ready. "No, I supposed that I am the monster here. Isn't that right, drüskelle? I'm the demon, the witch. What was the word you used? Drüsje. But what are you? The hero? What kind of hero sends innocent people to their deaths?"
You didn't wait for an answer. You turned around, walking away from the shore, away from him and his stupidly attractive face and that annoying pull you already felt towards him, like something bound your very being to his.
This is bullshit, you thought to yourself.
The sudden spike of your temper didn't surprise you. He'd been getting on your nerves ever since you'd been forced onto that Saintsforsaken Fjerdan ship. You weren't particularly fond of people who's entire job was to hunt you, but this one boy in particular hadn't even had to open his mouth to set you off.
You barley made it three steps away from him before you collapsed, your muscles giving up, your knees buckling. Before your body could hit the sand, though, strong arms wrapped around you, pulling you back to your feet and steadying you.
You tried weakly to fight off his touch, but the truth was that you were too tired to even move your limbs. You ended up slouching against his body, leaning your weight back into him until he was the only thing holding you up. "Get off me."
"Careful, drüsje," he muttered. But his voice was soft, almost like he was afraid that if he spoke, he would break something delicate. "Or I just might decide to drown you."
You were too tired to fight off your smile. "Charming, drüskelle. Absolutely charming."
He ignored your words. "We have to find someplace safe to spend the night."
"Mhm," you hummed, but your eyes were already fluttering shut. As much as you hated to admit it, the drüskelle's chest was a surprisingly comfortable pillow, despite being cold and clammy. Then, softly, you said, "I'm y/n."
"I'm Matthias," he said, and as the sound of his heartbeat lulled you into a mercifully dreamless sleep, you heard the deep rumble of his voice. It enveloped your senses, made you believe you were safe, and it was at that moment you knew that this drüskelle could do worse things than kill you.
That he could ruin you, and you just might let him, if it meant you'd wake up to look into those icy blue eyes again.
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libraryofivy · 3 years
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This (including the ongoing sequel) is perhaps one of my favourite series i've ever read on here, your writing is incredible!!! If anyone hasn't read this, I highly recommend it!
The Interpretation of Dreams masterlist
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Pairing: Laszlo Kreizler x fem!Reader
Summary: Modern AU. Professor Laszlo Kreizler is a pretentious ass - that's the only way you could possibly explain the man. That being said, you needed a job to help pay for grad school, and the position of being his TA was the only thing available. You'll suck it up and deal with it, but the last thing you'll do is let this man get inside your head in the process.
Enemies to Lovers
Rated: Explicit for eventual smut & descriptions of trauma
Moodboard by the lovely @lafemmedezemo
Headcanons
Playlist:
🧠
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19 - end
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libraryofivy · 3 years
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The Baroness - H.Z (Regency AU)
Sequel to 'The Baron'
Pairing - Zemo x f!reader
Word count - 1k
Warnings - none
A/N - After almost a month, here it is! I know it isn't very long, but I tend to struggle with writing long fics. Also, I was thinking about writing an epilogue consisting of different scenes/moments of their life (marriage, children etc). Would people be interested in that?
Tags - @actuallyanita @bweakmybonez
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It was approaching early afternoon, and there had not been a sight of the Baron. However, the shared dance from the previous night was still imprinted in your mind, the feel of his hands on yours, the way he delicately held your waist as you danced intricate patterns across the marble floors.
You snap out of your fantasy, only just noticing the young lord sitting opposite you, a confused look on his features. You hadn't paid attention to any of his words, let alone his presence in your family drawing room.
'Ahem, I do apologise my lord, but it appears I am not feeling too well this morning, please do excuse me' you stutter, as you rise from the ornate couch, heading towards the doorway. Your mama smiles kindly at the young man, as you make your way out into the hall and into the formal gardens out the back of the house. The scent of roses and lavender fill your nostrils as you walk down the stone paths between the hedge rows, finding your favourite bench towards the furthest edge of the walled garden. There had been many an afternoon where you could be found here, with your head buried in a book, surrounded by the birdsong and foliage.
It had only been a few minutes, and you were already lost in daydreams of your Baron again. You were disappointed that he didn’t come for you this morning, but maybe you were getting your hopes up. He was an enigma of a man, unmarried, and it’s unlikely that he would change for a young girl, especially since your father was his current business partner. But how you wished he would whisk you away and make you his wife. However you’re swiftly interrupted by the clacking of shoes hitting the stone pathways of the garden and the baritone voice of your father. The voice that followed his, however, shocked you. It was the voice of the Baron. Unsure if this was another one of your fantasies, you ignored their conversation, until they turned the corner and there he was. Dressed impeccably, he looked radiant in the warm afternoon sun, the rays of light illuminating his handsome face.
‘Ah, there you are my dear, Baron Zemo is here to conduct some business with me, I’ll be in my study should you or your mother require me’ your father greets, as he passes you back towards the house.
‘Good afternoon, Miss Y/L/N’ the Baron says politely, giving you a smile before following your father down the winding paths.
Naturally, once they were out of sight, you followed them. Your curiosity got the better of you, and maybe you were lovesick, but the presence of the Baron at your family’s estate gave you some hope.
___
Upon arriving at the door to your father’s study, you found that the door did very little to muffle their conversation, allowing you to easily listen in. Initially, you could hear the shuffling of papers and chairs being scraped along the floors as they sat at the desk to discuss whatever matters they had for the day. But once they started talking about the matter at hand, that piqued your interest.
‘I would like the pleasure of courting your daughter, Lord Y/L/N’
You couldn’t believe what you had just heard. Surely this was all a dream, and you would wake soon, all alone and the Baron would be nowhere to be seen.
‘And why did you come to talk to me about this, boy?’ Your father asks curiously. ‘You could have come this morning with her other potential suitors’
‘Because I wanted your permission. Since we are business partners, I wanted to inquire first, to ensure that nothing bad would come out of me wanting to court your daughter. I understand while I am older than her other suitors, I do not feel as if they would be able to adequately provide for her, which I'm sure you’re aware I can. And while she may be younger and more energetic than I, worse marriage matches have been made between maidens and men older than yourself.’
‘I’ve seen the way you look at her recently. I cannot help but notice you have acquired such a fascination with the young lady. My wife has also informed me of the dance you shared with my daughter yesterday evening, and she is quite certain that this would be a good match, she even mentioned a love match. It is no surprise that my daughter is quite taken with you’
You shuddered in embarrassment at your father’s words. Did him and your mama know already? Were your feelings for the Baron really that obvious? You couldn’t take any more of this and you rushed back into the drawing room, finding your mother lounging on a chair. You sit at the piano and play a few notes, the sound filling the room, as you try to distract yourself from the bright flush on your cheeks and wide smile on your face.
You wait the next half an hour in anticipation, the tune on the piano your only comforting distraction until your father enters the room with the Baron in tow. You halt your piano playing as your father addresses you.
‘The Baron would like to speak to you’
Your mother shoots you a glance, and a wide smile. It seems as if she had caught onto all of this before anything was even said out loud.
‘Miss Y/L/N, would give me the pleasure of courting you?’ he asks, a gentle smile on his features, as he brings himself closer to you.
‘I would be honoured, my lord’ you respond, returning his smile. Your parents look towards the two of you excitedly, already planning the wedding in their minds as they whisper back and forth to each other. While a courtship didn’t always end in a marriage, it seemed sure that between the two of you, there would be a happy marriage waiting for you, and a family of your own someday.
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libraryofivy · 3 years
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Hi Everyone!
sorry that my break took a bit longer than I expected, a lot happened, but I'm back now and am going to do my best to keep up with writing. I went through a massive writing slump after everything, but I'm hoping to be a bit more consistent and upload at least weekly.
Also, I'm in the process of planning and drafting my sequel to 'The Baron' so look out for that in the next few days!
Additionally, I now have a taglist! you can find the link here, or in my navigation post.
As always, my asks are open, so if you want to send in requests for fics/headcanons, or just want to chat feel free! (alternatively, if you don't want to talk through asks, we can message, I'd love to get to know some of you!)
Love, Ivy x
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libraryofivy · 3 years
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Sorry guys, i've been going through a lot of personal stuff over the past week that I don't reallt want to get into, so I haven't really been able to write. I'm hoping to be back sometime soon, and as soon as I have some time i'll be working on the second part of my Zemo Regency AU, along with some TLK, S&B/Grishaverse and Bridgerton stuff too! (I just finished Bridgerton and all I can say is, I am in love) I hope you guys understand and i'll be back asap!
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libraryofivy · 3 years
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The Baron - H.Z (Regency AU)
Pairing - Zemo x f!reader
Word Count - just under 1k
Warnings - none, as far as I'm aware
A/N - So I don't know where this idea came from, but here it is and I'm actually really happy with it! If this does well/people want another part, I have some ideas to continue this as either a second part or as a short series, so let me know what you think!
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Approaching the age of one and twenty, you knew that soon you would be married off to some European nobility, as it must be, this is how high society works. And yet, there seemed to only be one man who you longed to marry, Baron Helmut Zemo. Sure, he was older than you, but maybe that was part of the allure. There was something about him which was totally captivating, and you could not see yourself with any other, but you doubted he would return your affections.
Despite not being on the marriage market yourself, you had met the Baron quite a few times. His father was a friend and business partner of your father, and when he passed away, Helmut took up his position, and all the work that came with it. As a result, he had been to your ancestral estate numerous times, having conducted business with your father, and the two of you had only exchanged a few greetings when you saw each other in the halls or at dinner time, but it was enough to have you hooked on him. And you secretly hoped he would be at the ball tonight.
For months your parents had been preparing for this very moment, the beginning of the social season. The first time you would be introduced into high society as an eligible young woman, looking for a marriage match. Your dress had been specially made for this occasion by the best seamstress in the country, the silk of the dress was soft against your skin, the delicate fabric flowing behind you as you enter the ballroom. The footman announces your arrival, and all eyes in the room turn to you as you begin to make your way down the grand staircase. As you walk, you notice that one set of eyes were not upon you, that of your beloved Baron. In fact, he was nowhere to be seen. Slightly disheartened as you reached the bottom of the steps, you’re unaware of the men attempting to crowd you, offering themselves as your first dance of the evening. You didn’t really care for any of these men, they were only wanting you because of your dowry and status, so you just set your eyes on any of them and decided that he would be a good enough distraction for the night.
A few dances into the evening, and you had changed partners after almost every dance. None of the men who were throwing themselves at you had piqued your interest, they were either extremely dull, or the complete opposite, too prideful about their achievements and would talk non stop about them. You were midway through a dance with the second kind of man, a lord who kept discussing his recent grand tour across Europe, when you noticed the man who you had been looking for all evening. He was standing near the drinks table, talking to your mama, who had accompanied you to this event. After the dance was finished, you made your way across the room towards them, trying not to look too excited to see the man who you’d been longing for.
Now approaching, your mother greets you with a smile, and you curtsy to the Baron, who looks at you with curiosity across his features.
‘You look wonderful Miss Y/L/N’ he says, his accented voice smooth and rich. ‘It is your first season, is it not?’ he asks.
‘It is, my lord. My mama was hoping to find me a suitable match’ you answer, trying not to look at him too much, in case he may realise your affections.
‘And I'm sure she will, why, I'm sure by tomorrow morning you’ll have a line of callers waiting outside your home’ he remarks, looking towards your mother and then yourself.
‘Thank you, my lord, that is very kind of you to think so’ you respond, although you secretly wish he would be the only one to show up in the morning.
‘Would you care to dance, miss Y/N?’ he asks, holding his arm out towards you, a smile upon his features as he looks gently towards you.
Your heart is pounding, your mind is racing, as you squeak out a ‘it would be my pleasure’ and take his arm and let him lead you towards the dancefloor.
The string quartet begin the next song as the pair of you begin to dance together. As you get lost in the dancing, you can’t help but think to yourself about how handsome and graceful he is, how much of a good dancer he is and how you wish he would court you. The dance is intimate, the proximity between you is minimal, and you notice out of the corner of your eye that some lords and ladies are looking at you and talking about you, but the gentle caress of the Baron’s hand on your arm brings your focus back to him, and you dance until the song has finished.
After the dance, you thank the Baron, before returning to your mama, who decides that you’ve made a good enough impression on the marriage market, and that you should be heading home. You don’t get the chance to say goodbye to the Baron, as much as you would have liked to see him just one last time before you depart. The carriage ride home is full of discussion with your mother about potential suitors and husbands, and when you finally arrive home you are exhausted.
Once you’ve changed into a nightgown with the help of your maid and have slipped in between the satin sheets of your bed, your mind is flooded with images of the handsome Baron, of the dance you shared, and hopes for what could be in the future.
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libraryofivy · 3 years
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Camping Headcanons - C.S
Pairing - Charles Smith x gn!reader
Warnings - mentions of teasing from the gang which are suggestive, but nothing explicit
A/N - Just an idea that popped into my head the other day when thinking about RDR2.
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At first, Charles was reluctant to take you hunting and camping
But you begged him over and over again until he finally gave in
he was still reluctant, but he knew it would make you happy
and he would do anything to make you happy
Seeing a smile on your face is what motivated him throughout the day
he would make sure that you would get into no harm or trouble while out with him
after a long day of hunting, the pair of you sat in front of the fire of the makeshift camp
deciding to stay out rather than going back to the main camp for the night
It was far too late in the evening to navigate your way back, so this seemed like the best option
apart from the weather
in the evenings, it gets very chilly, despite the heat from the burning fire
meaning only one thing
cuddling with Charles.
out of convenience, of course...
who are we kidding
it was nice to spend some time together away from the hectic lifestyle of the camp
and it was even better to be spending time with each other, in each others arms
Charles would occasionally place a gentle kiss onto your temple, and whisper sweet words into your ear
And when you eventually fell asleep next to him, he would scoop you up in his arms and make sure you were in his embrace and comfortable
The next day at camp was full of teasing from everyone
Everyone speculating where you both were last night and what you were up to
especially John and Arthur who saw you as a little sister and loved to tease you
Which caused a blush to appear on both of your faces, despite it being nothing like what they were suggesting
But it was all ok, because you had each other, and that is what was most important, no matter the teasing from everyone else.
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