#Every once in a while there is a woman that kind of “strikes my fancy” | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

kittrrrr · 1 year ago

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For the secret valentine hosted by @writeblrcafe. My secret Valentine was @lacunasbalustrade. I don't really have much to say, just that it will be under the cut and I haven't got a clue what I should name it. Oh yeah, I wrote a story instead of prose because I'm not sure what that is, and I got the impression that prose is just a fancy word for writing. Enjoy

I don't... I don't like Valentine's day. There, I said it! Apparently, this is a big deal. I just don't see it. The only reason you like it is because there's always been someone there for you! It probably doesn't help that February is utterly dreary in Constantine. The sky and ground are grey, the roads filled with slush. The cheerful little town was a shadow of itself. People called Valentine's day a spark of hope in the cheerless half of winter, but honestly, it was just a hassle. Besides after Valentine's, there was a rise in, um, those kinds of diseases. I would know- I work at the desk of the only doctor's office in all of Constantine.

Well, it only came once a year, and luckily it was almost time. Just under a month left. I gloomily pondered this as I sloshed through slush. I guess the holiday is all sweetness and good intentions, but sweetness and good intentions will leave you stranded on the side of the road with a broken heart and a banquet of wilting roses. I huffed, rubbing my hands over my nose. We were having our customary heat wave, which made all the December snow into a melty mess. In order to lessen the chance of getting drenched by a passing car (which had happened more than I liked, even if I was much more cautious now), I was taking my shortcut through Constantine's central park, when a lady about my age came barreling through. I was clearing a spot off a bench to people watch, and didn't see her coming. So she knocked me over, soaking us both through.

"Oh NO! Jeeze, I'm super duper sorry! I didn't see you! Sorry, sorry, sorry!" She yelped, pulling me up by arm. I felt like lying in the snow for a little longer, feeling sorry for myself, but she didn't pick up on this. Just as well, I suppose- I wouldn't want frostbite or something equally nasty. "Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear..." She mumbled, stepping back.

"Where were you going in such a rush?" I grumbled, getting a good look at the human bowling ball. She was quite tall, with waves of pink and red streaked through brown hair. Green eyes sparkled behind bangs that had come loose in our strike. Despite the general lack of sun in town at this time of year, her face was covered in freckles.

"Oh..." The woman's face turned red. "I needed to get some documents to my boss in the next town over, but the last bus just left. We're getting a new store set up here, and I finally got the paperwork we needed... My boss will be mad I wasn't able to get the papers to her immediately. I'm so sorry, sorry, sorry..." I huffed. While getting soaked wasn't exactly a amazing thing, I was already on my way home. (Well, after some people watching) And this woman at least had a good reason for soaking the both of us. I frowned, because while I'd probably only see her passing, I'd do my best to welcome her to Constantine. We needed more stores- the economy struggled, and people had a hard time getting and keeping jobs. I was lucky I was so qualified, and it still took me over a month to get my current job.

"Well, just- just watch where you're going." Oh, that didn't sound very welcoming. "Er- Welcome to Constantine." With that, I shoved my hands into my pockets and walked off. I didn't see Melody smile or hear her giggles. I had to get home after all. It wasn't like I expected to see again so soon.

And then, a few days later, she popped up again.

While Constantine isn't giant, it's not small enough that I would've expected to intercounter Melody again at least until after Valentine's. I think she just wanted to make my life harder, because when she came into the clinic, it took every drop of profesionalizam not to sink under the desk. Sure, I didn't mind that she'd bowled me into the slush, but I was hoping to avoid her a while. Meeting someone by getting knocked over by them didn't do anything for my social anxiety.

"Good morning, welcome Horten's Family Clinic! How can I help you today?" I asked, like I was reading from a script. Goodness, why did she have to look so sheepish?

"Um... Hi? I- Hang on! You're the person I knocked over a week ago! I never got your name- Well, if you don't mind telling me?" Melody rubbed the back of her head. The blush made the pink in her hair pop even more.

"It's Gabriel. Why are you here?" Oops... It's not my fault socializing is so hard! Melody blushed harder, turning the color of a strawberry. She whispered something, and, to my chagrin, I couldn't hear her. "Um... what'd you say?"

"I think I broke my wrist..?" She asked. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes; I didn't want to make her feel worse. I started tapping at my computer, looking for an opening where one of our doctors (the Hortens were some of the kindest people I'd ever met) could see her. I found that the oldest Horten, Dr. Port Horten, had an opening in a half hour. I told Melody this, and instead of going to sit down, she lingered by my desk.

"Well?" I asked. Sure, I didn't hate her, but being overly people-y wasn't my thing either. She shrunk a little and sighed.

"You're a mean one, Mr. Grinch." She sang under her breath. And-

"Excuse me? You just called me a Grinch!" I exclaimed, surprised. She turned back to me, a devilish grin on her face.

"Yeah? Well, that's what you are, Mr. Grinch!" She laughed... (She had a really pretty laugh).

"The Grinch was for Christmas!" I grumbled, since there was nothing better I could retort with. Melody's smile widened, and her sheepishness faded.

"His heart was two sizes too small- I think it means that he hated everything!" Melody spun, laughing to herself, satisfied that she'd won the dumbest argument in the history of arguments. But then she lost her balance and fell, crashing to the floor. I peered over the counter, where Melody was clutching her wrist, apparently having fallen on it again. I asked if she was alright, and she waved me off. At least knew how she broke her wrist in the first place. She defeatedly got up and sat in one of the terribly uncomfortable chairs. Somehow, it didn't seem right to see her like that. Around fifteen minutes later, Dr. Port called her name, and she left.

"She's a cute one, ain't she?" An older woman's voice spoke up as I watched Melody disappear to Dr. Port's office. I whipped around and groaned. Mrs. Wilderberry.

"What can I do for you, Mrs. Wilderberry?" I asked Constantine's most prominent widow.

"Ask that girl out! And is my weekly with Dr. Horten ready?" I sighed.

"Mrs. Wilderberry, which Dr. Horten?" She just laughed.

Somehow, I encountered Melody again! At this point, she was seeking me out! I certainly wasn't looking for her. This time, she had a soft pink cast and was talking to Mrs. Wilderberry, who was the reason I couldn't just pretend I hadn't even seen Melody. Why? That crazy old bat called me over. Then Melody saw me and waved. At that point, it would just be rude to leave. So I dragged myself over to them.

"Gabe, you just have to sign my cast!" I glanced down at it, but then looked away before I could be blinded further. My eyes were used to the grey skies and streets of Constantine this time of year, and the soft pink was like staring into the sun.

"Why. Is. It. So. Pink?" I grumbled. Melody smiled and told me the name of the holiday I hated most, while explaining she was having people write their names in hearts. Mrs. Wilderberry gasped, and leaned in to whisper something to Melody's ear. Melody's eyes widened, and she glared at me.

"I was right! You are the Grinch of Valentine's day!" I sighed, rolling my eyes.

"And this is why you don't talk to old ladies." Mrs. Wilderberry playfully bopped me over the head, and took it as my cue to leave. Melody hurried after me, to my surprise. I just kept walking, but slowed, and she fell into step beside me. We were both quiet for a long time, not going anywhere in particular. I was waiting for her to ask- everyone did. I never told anyone who did.

She finally opened her mouth, but I cut her off.

"Why are you in Constantine?" I asked. She paused, then hurried after me so as to not fall behind.

"Because my boss required me to-"

"Bullcrap. Everyone in Constantine is- or was- running from something. Hurting from something. So... what are you running from?" I turned to look Melody in the eyes. I had to tilt my head up a little to meet her eyes, but the effect was the same. Melody stared back, eyes full of surprise and a dozen and two other emotions I couldn't untangle. She finally asked me for my proof. I smiled, waving my arms around. "Why? Doesn't this place just not scream desperation to you? Even in the summer, everything's just a little off. But... Proof? I got plenty of that. Mrs. Wilderberry is only here because she couldn't bear puttering around her old home without her husband. The Hortens moved here because Dr. Port couldn't fight accusations of malpractice any longer- though they had no proof!" The light changed and I crossed the street, Melody trailing after me like a sad duckling.

"What are you running from?" Melody stepped in front of me. I just mirrored her devilish smile from earlier.

"Why do you think I hate Valentine's?" I answered, and walked off, leaving Melody in front of the florist's. Her eyes were full of tears, and something else I couldn't place. Maybe... maybe it was sympathy.

"Did you break your other wrist?" I asked, not looking up from where I was working. Melody had come in. I could only tell because her hair, with fresh streaks of red and pink, was draped over the counter.

"Shut up." Melody said, turning a shade or rose. Or so I assumed. She was pretty predictable, as I was starting to learn. Well, I though so. I didn't expect her to say what she did next. "So... are you free tonight." I finally looked up at her.

"I. Hate. This. Holiday. What do you think?" She stared at me, a small smile forming as I nodded.

"So... You wouldn't mind if we watched a movie at my place?" It was my turn to stare. Why in the world would someone like Melody want to hang around someone like me? (Maybe it was because her smile wasn't for show. Maybe it was because she cared. Maybe, maybe, maybe...) I shrugged.

"If that's all...." Melody smiled. She dropped a slip of paper onto my desk. "Place and my phone number. Bring soda." Then she was gone, soon to waltz back into my life as she often did. Despite the fact I would like to have done literally anything else, I was still happier then normal to leave the stifling office. Seriously, four o'clock couldn't have come any sooner. I left the office, wandering into the dumps of Constantine, where everyone got their first apartment in Constantine. I climbed a set of very familiar steps and knocked on my old apartment's door. Melody threw the door open and smiled at me, then hauled me in.

"C'mon! I found the movie I wanted to show you!" She took the soda from me, and I stepped out of my shoes. A few minutes later, she had everything set up, and I watched as she flicked past one of my favorite movies.

"Hey! Can we watch that one after yours?" I asked, pointing to it. She blinked.

"The.... The romance?"

"I don't... I don't hate romance. I... actually like the idea.. A lot... Just-"

"Bad memories?" She whispered, cutting me off. My shoulders sank down. I hadn't expected her to understand- but then again, I hadn't really talked to anyone about it since I'd come to Constantine. A single nod, and Melody turned back to what she was doing. The silence stretched for a long moment, before Melody climbed up onto the couch. "Do you want to talk about it?" She held the remote out, not looking at me. I hummed.

"It's a long story... But... Valentine's is all about trying hard, and.. I just- that doesn't work out for any one." Melody smiled.

"I'm sure that you've got plenty- but would you like another friend?"

"Of course... If you want to..." She smiled at me, then started the movie. It was nice having someone to talk to, for once. You were expecting me to tell you some story about new love? Well, I did. Just not the kind of love you thought goes with Valentine's.

#wcsecretvalentine #writeblr cafe #writing

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thecardssayhellno · 6 months ago

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Bloodbound Negotiation: The Hunt Begins [A4A or AF4A] [Reluctant Allies] [Vampire Speaker x Vampire Hunter Listener] [Part 2]

This is part of a series! You can find the first part here

Monetization is okay, and so is putting it behind a paywall. Just credit me and give me some way to listen to it, please! I am not looking for money myself, I just write scripts to practice my writing.

Summary: You and your vampiric partner walk through the city as twilight falls, preparing for a dangerous mission. While your vampire is consumed with confronting their sire, you carry a deeper personal burden—the search for your missing sister. You agreed to help them in exchange for information, but their cold demeanor and focus on their own problems create tension between you.

Settings: Starts in the speaker's house at nighttime, then it switches to the street when the two start walking toward the third location. The third location is a bar.

Word Count: 1,607

Estimated Length: ~8-9 minutes

A couple of quick notes: Nicolette Leroux is French, so her name would be pronounced as LeRoo, and all of her lines are optional, I wrote this so that if you can’t/don’t want to find someone else to voice her (or don’t want to do it yourself) you don’t have to. Heck, you could even gender-swap her if that strikes your fancy. I don’t mind either way. Once Nicolette’s lines start, I will specify with “S” for the speaker and N for Nicolette. Sorry if this is confusing! If you have questions, let me know!

(Talking as if in the middle of a conversation) Hunter, you can’t add more conditions to our deal. Besides, what kind of information do you even need from my sire?

You want to find where your sister is? Why would my sire even know?

She’s with a vampire? As in dating a vampire, or kidnapped?

You don’t know? She just disappeared?

(Sigh, sounding annoyed) Can you stop pleading? We can ask if we find my sire, but I think that’s going to be almost impossible. Everyone I’ve asked has told me that he hasn’t been seen in years.

Yes, except for me, obviously. Quite a few of the older vampires I’ve talked to were skeptical when I described who attacked me. I swear one of them almost fainted, though. I have a feeling that my sire is a dangerous man.

(Frustrated) No, I haven’t been able to get his name. The most I’ve been able to get is a nickname. I guess they call him Nox. It’s like a Voldemort situation or something. I don’t know.

I talked to a vampire two days ago who told me to look for a woman named Nicolette Leroux. He said she owns a bar downtown called Blood Infusion.

(Laughs drily) I agree, the name is a little too on the nose.

So, how do we find her? I don’t know. I was just told, “you’ll know her when you see her.”

[Clothes rustle and metal clinks when the listener stands up, then footsteps as they walk toward the speaker’s front door.]

Ready to leave already? We have time for you to rest if you need it. You still look like shit.

Ok, Hunter, but don’t blame me if you pass out and I have to save you. I warned you.

[Door opens, footsteps as they both exit the house, the door closes, keys jingle as the speaker locks their front door.]

No, we’re not taking my car. The bar is close enough to walk to. I don’t want anyone we don’t trust to know what my car looks like.

Oh, yeah, your car is probably still at the school. You passed out, why would I bother finding your car, putting you in it, finding your keys, driving your car here, and then taking the bus back to the school to find my car?

I’ll take you to go get it when we’re done with what we have to do tonight.

[Footsteps as the two start walking to the bar, occasionally a car passes by. The listener’s backpack also clinks every so often while they walk.]

(After walking in silence for a couple of seconds, Annoyed) Hunter, do you need that stupid backpack? It’s so loud.

Just ditch it behind that bush, we can grab it on the way back.

[Zipper opens and the listener digs around in it for a second before rezipping it and stowing it behind the bush.]

Thank you.

[Footsteps resume and then slowly fade out as the scene changes. Fading in: Pop music playing and the sound of talking and laughing and cups being moved around.]

(Talking over the hum of the bar) I know he said “you’ll know her when you see her” but I have no clue who we’re supposed to be looking for. She could be literally anywhere in here. It’s packed.

You think we should ask the bartender? Ok, but I’m doing the talking. You’re the only human in here and I don’t need you drawing attention to us by acting stupid.

[Footsteps as they walk up to the bar, both stop short.]

So, the bartender *is* Nicolette LeRoux. (Sarcastically) Perfect. How the hell do we get her to talk to us?

[Footsteps as the speaker walks up to the bar and the listener follows.]

N: What can I get you? A pint of beer? A glass of blood?

S: Oh, uh, neither. We’re actually here for information, Madam Leroux. I was told you might know where my sire is.

N: Follow me.

[Footsteps as all three walk into the kitchen and into the walk-in cooler.]

S: You have information for me, don’t you?

N: Yes, but you’re not going to like it.

S: What do you mean? Why wouldn’t I like it? I’m so close to finding my sire.

N: About that, you’re actually much further away.

S: How am I further away? I was told he’d be in this city. I was told he’d be in Baltimore so here I am.

N: It’s not that simple, he moves around a lot.

S: (Snaps) And you couldn’t have mentioned that before I wasted days in this goddamn city chasing ghosts?

N: I told you, it’s not easy tracking someone like him! You knew that from the start. He’s not just any vampire.

S: (Pacing, sounding irritated) Yeah, well, I’m getting real tired of chasing rumors of him from city to city. How far is he this time? Tell me he didn’t run off to the other side of the country.

N: (Quietly) Actually… he’s in Texas now. More specifically, he’s in Austin.

S: (Stunned silence for a beat, then incredulous) Austin? What the hell is he doing in Texas? That’s halfway across the country! He’s supposed to be laying low, not vacationing in the South.

N: (Defensive) I don’t think he’s there by choice. Word is, something went down in Baltimore, and he had to bolt. Some bad blood—pardon the pun—caught up with him. Austin’s just a pit stop. He’s not staying long.

S: (Sighs heavily) Great. So, what, I’m supposed to drop everything and go halfway across the country on your maybe? He probably won’t even be there when I get there. He’ll be in Hawaii or Alaska by that point.

N: It’s not a maybe. It’s solid intel. I wouldn’t have my associates lead you to me if it wasn’t. He’s hiding out in a safe house outside the city. But I don’t know how much longer he’ll be there.

S: (Frustrated) And what’s your definition of ‘solid’ now? Because last time your “associates” said that, I walked into a warehouse full of traps with no damn sign of him. You won’t even tell me his name!

N: (She sounds hurt) That wasn’t my fault! He’s got spies everywhere, and he’s paranoid. Always covering his tracks. You think I want to be wrong? You think I like telling you this?

S: (Cold) I think you’re playing both sides, and I’m starting to wonder which one you’re really on. You’re just as old as he is, in fact, you’re older. Why are you scared of him?

N: (Sighs, exasperated) Look, Ethan, you don’t have to trust me, but you know I’m your best shot at finding him. Nobody else is willing to dig this deep for you. No one else would risk what I’m risking.

S: I know. That’s why I’m still standing in this room instead of walking out of here. I am fully aware that he’s dangerous, so stop beating around the bush. I’m not asking for your advice. I’m asking where he is. Tell me everything you know.

N: (Brief silence, then resigned) He’s been lying low at this place on the outskirts of Austin. Some big old house. It’s run-down, looks abandoned. He’s got a couple of other vampires with him—loyal ones, the kind who won’t think twice about tearing you apart if you get too close. He’s expecting trouble, so don’t think you can just walk in.

S: I’m not an idiot. My sire is smart, I know he knows that I’m coming for him. What else?

N: Rumor has it he’s got some kind of deal going with a local coven. Witches, powerful ones. If you show up there, they’ll know. They’ll be watching. You’re going to need help.

S: (Defiant) I don’t need help. I need answers. And I’m tired of people telling me to wait. This ends with me and him.

N: (Earnestly) I get that, I really do. But if you go in guns blazing, you’ll end up dead. You can’t be reckless.

S: (Snarls) Reckless? You think I’ve been careful this whole time? I’ve been hunting him for weeks, and every time I get close, something pushes me back. I’m done waiting. I’m done with all the excuses. Just tell me where.

N: (Long pause, then quietly) Alright. There’s a road just outside the city, Route 71. Follow it west until you hit the hills. The house is hidden there. You’ll know it when you see it.”

S: Route 71. Got it. And if he’s not there?

N: He’s there. But be careful. If you go in half-cocked, he’ll destroy you.

S: (Flatly) He can try. I’m not letting him slip away again.

N: Good luck. Don’t get yourselves killed. And don’t bring a human into my bar again. (Pause, and then a laugh) Yes, little hunter, I can smell the human all over you.

[Fades from inside the cooler to the street. Footsteps fade in as the two walk back to the speaker’s house.]

(Muttering to himself) Stupid old bat. She can’t even tell me his name. What kind of informant can’t tell me my sire’s name?

(Annoyed) What, Hunter?

(Bitterly) Yeah, I realize we forgot to ask about Claire. You know where vampires tend to go, why can’t you just ask them?

(Softly) You’ve already tried?

(Hurriedly) Woah, woah, woah. Hunter, are you crying?

(Kindly) Come here.

[Clothes rustle as the speaker pulls the listener into a hug.]

Let’s go to Austin together, maybe we can ask vampires along the way if they’ve seen Claire.

[Street noise fades.]

#asmr video #asmr audio #vampire x hunter #vampire x listener

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neil-gaiman · 4 years ago

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How Did you come up with the first eve in the story about adams wives? I haven’t been able to find anything about her after I read it and I want to know if she’s an actual biblical character or just someone you made

She's from the Midrash. I learned about her as a 12 year old, from my barmitzvah teacher. There was a point in there, long after I'd put her into Sandman, where I was starting to think I'd imagined her, when I ran across her in Robert Graves's Hebrew Myths....

Excerpt from: The Hebrew Myths by Robert Graves and Raphael Patai (New York: Doubleday, 1964), pp 65-69

Chapter 10: Adam's Helpmeets

(a) Having decided to give Adam a helpmeet lest he should be alone of his kind, God put him into a deep sleep, removed one of his ribs, formed it into a woman, and closed up the wound, Adam awoke and said: 'This being shall be named "Woman", because she has been taken out of man. A man and a woman shall be one flesh.' The title he gave her was Eve, 'the Mother of All Living''. [1]

(b) Some say that God created man and woman in His own image on the Sixth Day, giving them charge over the world; [2] but that Eve did not yet exist. Now, God had set Adam to name every beast, bird and other living thing. When they passed before him in pairs, male and female, Adam-being already like a twenty-year-old man-felt jealous of their loves, and though he tried coupling with each female in turn, found no satisfaction in the act. He therefore cried: 'Every creature but I has a proper mate', and prayed God would remedy this injustice. [3]

(c) God then formed Lilith, the first woman, just as He had formed Adam, except that He used filth and sediment instead of pure dust. From Adam's union with this demoness, and with another like her named Naamah, Tubal Cain's sister, sprang Asmodeus and innumerable demons that still plague mankind. Many generations later, Lilith and Naamah came to Solomon's judgement seat, disguised as harlots of Jerusalem'. [4]

(d) Adam and Lilith never found peace together; for when he wished to lie with her, she took offence at the recumbent posture he demanded. 'Why must I lie beneath you?' she asked. 'I also was made from dust, and am therefore your equal.' Because Adam tried to compel her obedience by force, Lilith, in a rage, uttered the magic name of God, rose into the air and left him.

Adam complained to God: 'I have been deserted by my helpmeet' God at once sent the angels Senoy, Sansenoy and Semangelof to fetch Lilith back. They found her beside the Red Sea, a region abounding in lascivious demons, to whom she bore lilim at the rate of more than one hundred a day. 'Return to Adam without delay,' the angels said, `or we will drown you!' Lilith asked: `How can I return to Adam and live like an honest housewife, after my stay beside the Red Sea?? 'It will be death to refuse!' they answered. `How can I die,' Lilith asked again, `when God has ordered me to take charge of all newborn children: boys up to the eighth day of life, that of circumcision; girls up to the twentieth day. None the less, if ever I see your three names or likenesses displayed in an amulet above a newborn child, I promise to spare it.' To this they agreed; but God punished Lilith by making one hundred of her demon children perish daily; [5] and if she could not destroy a human infant, because of the angelic amulet, she would spitefully turn against her own. [6]

(e) Some say that Lilith ruled as queen in Zmargad, and again in Sheba; and was the demoness who destroyed job's sons. [7] Yet she escaped the curse of death which overtook Adam, since they had parted long before the Fall. Lilith and Naamah not only strangle infants but also seduce dreaming men, any one of whom, sleeping alone, may become their victim. [8]

(f) Undismayed by His failure to give Adam a suitable helpmeet, God tried again, and let him watch while he built up a woman's anatomy: using bones, tissues, muscles, blood and glandular secretions, then covering the whole with skin and adding tufts of hair in places. The sight caused Adam such disgust that even when this woman, the First Eve, stood there in her full beauty, he felt an invincible repugnance. God knew that He had failed once more, and took the First Eve away. Where she went, nobody knows for certain. [9]

(g) God tried a third time, and acted more circumspectly. Having taken a rib from Adam's side in his sleep, He formed it into a woman; then plaited her hair and adorned her, like a bride, with twenty-four pieces of jewellery, before waking him. Adam was entranced. [10]

(h) Some say that God created Eve not from Adam's rib, but from a tail ending in a sting which had been part of his body. God cut this off, and the stump-now a useless coccyx-is still carried by Adam's descendants. [11]

(i) Others say that God's original thought had been to create two human beings, male and female; but instead He designed a single one with a male face looking forward, and a female face looking back. Again He changed His mind, removed Adam's backward-looking face, and built a woman's body for it. [12]

(j) Still others hold that Adam was originally created as an androgyne of male and female bodies joined back to back. Since this posture made locomotion difficult, and conversation awkward, God divided the androgyne and gave each half a new rear. These separate beings He placed in Eden, forbidding them to couple. [13]

Notes on sources:

1. Genesis II. 18-25; III. 20.

2. Genesis I. 26-28.

3. Gen. Rab. 17.4; B. Yebamot 632.

4. Yalqut Reubeni ad. Gen. II. 21; IV. 8.

5. Alpha Beta diBen Sira, 47; Gaster, MGWJ, 29 (1880), 553 ff.

6. Num. Rab. 16.25.

7. Targum ad job 1. 15.

8. B. Shabbat 151b; Ginzberg, LJ, V. 147-48.

9. Gen. Rab. 158, 163-64; Mid. Abkir 133, 135; Abot diR. Nathan 24; B. Sanhedrin 39a.

10. Gen. II. 21-22; Gen. Rab. 161.

11. Gen. Rab. 134; B. Erubin 18a.

12. B. Erubin 18a.

13. Gen. Rab. 55; Lev. Rab. 14.1: Abot diR. Nathan 1.8; B. Berakhot 61a; B. Erubin 18a; Tanhuma Tazri'a 1; Yalchut Gen. 20; Tanh. Buber iii.33; Mid. Tehillim 139, 529.

Authors’ Comments on the Myth:

1. The tradition that man's first sexual intercourse was with animals, not women, may be due to the widely spread practice of bestiality among herdsmen of the Middle East, which is still condoned by custom, although figuring three times in the Pentateuch as a capital crime. In the Akkadian Gilgamesh Epic, Enkidu is said to have lived with gazelles and jostled other wild beasts at the watering place, until civilized by Aruru's priestess. Having enjoyed her embraces for six days and seven nights, he wished to rejoin the wild beasts but, to his surprise, they fled from him. Enkidu then knew that he had gained understanding, and the priestess said: 'Thou art wise, Enkidu, like unto a godl'

2. Primeval man was held by the Babylonians to have been androgynous. Thus the Gilgamesh Epic gives Enkidu androgynous features: `the hair of his head like a woman's, with locks that sprout like those of Nisaba, the Grain-goddess.' The Hebrew tradition evidently derives from Greek sources, because both terms used in a Tannaitic midrash to describe the bisexual Adam are Greek: androgynos, 'man-woman', and diprosopon, 'twofaced'. Philo of Alexandria, the Hellenistic philosopher and commentator on the Bible, contemporary with Jesus, held that man was at first bisexual; so did the Gnostics. This belief is clearly borrowed from Plato. Yet the myth of two bodies placed back to back may well have been founded on observation of Siamese twins, which are sometimes joined in this awkward manner. The two-faced Adam appears to be a fancy derived from coins or statues of Janus, the Roman New Year god.

3. Divergences between the Creation myths of Genesis r and n, which allow Lilith to be presumed as Adam's first mate, result from a careless weaving together of an early Judaean and a late priestly tradition. The older version contains the rib incident. Lilith typifies the Anath-worshipping Canaanite women, who were permitted pre-nuptial promiscuity. Time after time the prophets denounced Israelite women for following Canaanite practices; at first, apparently, with the priests' approval-since their habit of dedicating to God the fees thus earned is expressly forbidden in Deuteronomy xxIII. I8. Lilith's flight to the Red Sea recalls the ancient Hebrew view that water attracts demons. 'Tortured and rebellious demons' also found safe harbourage in Egypt. Thus Asmodeus, who had strangled Sarah's first six husbands, fled 'to the uttermost parts of Egypt' (Tobit viii. 3), when Tobias burned the heart and liver of a fish on their wedding night.

4. Lilith's bargain with the angels has its ritual counterpart in an apotropaic rite once performed in many Jewish communities. To protect the newborn child against Lilith-and especially a male, until he could be permanently safeguarded by circumcision-a ring was drawn with natron, or charcoal, on the wall of the birthroom, and inside it were written the words: 'Adam and Eve. Out, Lilith!' Also the names Senoy, Sansenoy and Semangelof (meanings uncertain) were inscribed on the door. If Lilith nevertheless succeeded in approaching the child and fondling him, he would laugh in his sleep. To avert danger, it was held wise to strike the sleeping child's lips with one finger-whereupon Lilith would vanish.

5. 'Lilith' is usually derived from the Babylonian-Assyrian word lilitu, ,a female demon, or wind-spirit'-one of a triad mentioned in Babylonian spells. But she appears earlier as 'Lillake' on a 2000 B.G. Sumerian tablet from Ur containing the tale of Gilgamesh and the Willow Tree. There she is a demoness dwelling in the trunk of a willow-tree tended by the Goddess Inanna (Anath) on the banks of the Euphrates. Popular Hebrew etymology seems to have derived 'Lilith' from layil, 'night'; and she therefore often appears as a hairy night-monster, as she also does in Arabian folklore. Solomon suspected the Queen of Sheba of being Lilith, because she had hairy legs. His judgement on the two harlots is recorded in I Kings III. 16 ff. According to Isaiah xxxiv. I4-I5, Lilith dwells among the desolate ruins in the Edomite Desert where satyrs (se'ir), reems, pelicans, owls, jackals, ostriches, arrow-snakes and kites keep her company.

6. Lilith's children are called lilim. In the Targum Yerushalmi, the priestly blessing of Numbers vi. 26 becomes: 'The Lord bless thee in all thy doings, and preserve thee from the Lilim!' The fourth-century A.D. commentator Hieronymus identified Lilith with the Greek Lamia, a Libyan queen deserted by Zeus, whom his wife Hera robbed of her children. She took revenge by robbing other women of theirs.

7. The Lamiae, who seduced sleeping men, sucked their blood and ate their flesh, as Lilith and her fellow-demonesses did, were also known as Empusae, 'forcers-in'; or Mormolyceia, 'frightening wolves'; and described as 'Children of Hecate'. A Hellenistic relief shows a naked Lamia straddling a traveller asleep on his back. It is characteristic of civilizations where women are treated as chattels that they must adopt the recumbent posture during intercourse, which Lilith refused. That Greek witches who worshipped Hecate favoured the superior posture, we know from Apuleius; and it occurs in early Sumerian representations of the sexual act, though not in the Hittite. Malinowski writes that Melanesian girls ridicule what they call `the missionary position', which demands that they should lie passive and recumbent.

8. Naamah, 'pleasant', is explained as meaning that 'the demoness sang pleasant songs to idols'. Zmargad suggest smaragdos, the semi-precious aquamarine; and may therefore be her submarine dwelling. A demon named Smaragos occurs in the Homeric Epigrams.

9. Eve's creation by God from Adam's rib-a myth establishing male supremacy and disguising Eve's divinity-lacks parallels in Mediterranean or early Middle-Eastern myth. The story perhaps derives iconotropically from an ancient relief, or painting, which showed the naked Goddess Anath poised in the air, watching her lover Mot murder his twin Aliyan; Mot (mistaken by the mythographer for Yahweh) was driving a curved dagger under Aliyan's fifth rib, not removing a sixth one. The familiar story is helped by a hidden pun on tsela, the Hebrew for 'rib': Eve, though designed to be Adam's helpmeet, proved to be a tsela, a 'stumbling', or 'misfortune'. Eve's formation from Adam's tail is an even more damaging myth; perhaps suggested by the birth of a child with a vestigial tail instead of a coccyx-a not infrequent occurrence.

10. The story of Lilith's escape to the East and of Adam's subsequent marriage to Eve may, however, record an early historical incident: nomad herdsmen, admitted into Lilith's Canaanite queendom as guests (see 16. 1), suddenly seize power and, when the royal household thereupon flees, occupy a second queendom which owes allegiance to the Hittite Goddess Heba.

The meaning of 'Eve' is disputed. Hawwah is explained in Genesis III. 20 as 'mother of all living'; but this may well be a Hebraicized form of the divine name Heba, Hebat, Khebat or Khiba. This goddess, wife of the Hittite Storm-god, is shown riding a lion in a rock-sculpture at Hattusaswhich equates her with Anath-and appears as a form of Ishtar in Hurrian texts. She was worshipped at Jerusalem (see 27. 6). Her Greek name was Hebe, Heracles's goddess-wife.

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sellyoursoulforagoodfic · 4 years ago

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Fire and Darkness Chapter 2

The Darkling x reader

Word Count: 1245

Summary: They’d stayed longer than expected. You get to know them.

They’d been here a week, trapped by the sudden thunderstorm that rolled in the morning after their arrival. According to Anya, Marisha was growing more agitated by the day; cabin fever, she claimed, nothing to worry about. You couldn’t help but wonder what was so bad about taking a breather from being on the run.

During all that time, you’d seen neither hide nor tail of either of the guests when you’d gone out to practice in the shed. You hadn’t even heard them moving about through the little, easily-missed tunnel that connected the shed to the refugee house. Perhaps they were sleeping, you mused. It must have been very hard to be on the road like that.

It wasn’t until the full week passed that you were doing some basic, candle-lighting exercises that you finally heard that old, creaky trapdoor protest as it opened for the first time in several months. Out of it, Adrian’s head of pitch black hair rose slowly, his grey eyes--so much more striking because of the bags around them--darting around cautiously.

You smiled warmly, closing your fist to extinguish the small flame that’d been hovering over it. “I was wondering if I would ever see you again.”

“Marisha doesn’t like it when I make friends,” he explained quietly. How he’d managed to stay as clean as he looked while crawling through that little tunnel, you’d never know. He carefully lowered the trapdoor back into place.

“But she changed her mind?”

He shook his head and moved no closer, leaving a large gap between the two of you. “Not really.”

Really not used to talking to people, you observed. “You won’t get in trouble for coming here, then, will you?” You wouldn’t have him being on her bad side just to see you; you wouldn’t.

A tiny smile tugged at his lips. “Apparently, all my pacing has started to annoy her. ‘Upsets her beauty sleep,’ she claims. Told me to get out and go bother someone else. You happen to be the someone else.”

You grinned. “Well, lucky me!”

His smile fell once more as he glanced around the shack once more, taking in the dirt floor and surprisingly well-built walls. “This place is much more well-constructed than the outside would have you believe.”

“Anya is quite proud of that. It has to be tight enough that none of the light from the fires gets out, but people don’t come sniffing around here because it looks like a death trap from the outside.”

“And she just . . . lets you practice in here every day?”

“Requires it, actually.”

“Isn’t she otkazat’sya?”

“What does that have to do with it?”

“Why would she want you to practice if she’s one of them? They hate us.”

“Not her,” you replied calmly. These types of questions weren’t uncommon from the refugees that passed through. “She knows that using our abilities is linked to our health, and she says that the better I am at controlling my abilities, the less likely they’ll flare up unexpectedly.”

Adrian nodded slowly. “She is uncommonly wise, your cousin.”

“Yeah, she is,” you agreed softly. Based on his pallor and the general lackluster shine to his hair, you found yourself asking, “You haven’t used your power in quite some time, have you?”

Now, he shook his head. “It’s not safe.” There was something haunted in his eyes with that statement. Something had happened, and it wasn’t anything good.

“It is here,” you encouraged. “If this place can hide the flames of an Inferni, it can hide anything. So what can you do?”

Perhaps it was the curiosity in your voice, or maybe it was the excitement in the tone, but he took a wary step back. “I can’t.”

You frowned. “I can leave? . . . If you’d like?” You’d hoped to see what type of grisha he was, but you’d seen this type of trepidation before. “But you really shouldn’t bottle your abilities up. You start looking too sick, and people will notice.”

“They also notice if you are too healthy while also having no home,” he argued, eyes flashing.

“I’m sure you’ve learned how to balance that by now.”

“Why do you want me to use my powers so badly?” he snapped. “So you can turn me in if you don’t fancy them? Or is someone around here looking for a Healer slave? Or perhaps a Heartrender assassin to take out a nosey neighbor?”

Your instinct was to raise your hands in surrender, but you knew that would come across as threatening, so you kept them in fists at your sides. “I promise I just want to help,” you said calmly. Refugees rarely came through here without some kind of tragic past; you wished you could say you’d never seen one react like this before. “Perhaps make a friend.”

Adrian scoffed. “What good is a friend that you’ll never see again?”

“We never know who we’ll see again.” This wasn’t the first time you’d had this conversation; it wouldn’t be the last. “Maybe in ten years, you’ll be the one helping me because we knew each other here.”

There was a bone-weary exhaustion that sunk into the curl of his shoulders when the fight sagged out of him. “You won’t tell Marisha that you were here?” he asked after a long pause. There was a strange history there. The woman was obviously his mother, but there was a tension between them based off the way he said her name.

You shook your head.

“And you won’t tell anyone what I can do?”

“Of course not!” It would hardly be the first secret you’d kept; no one’s abilities had ever crossed your lips in all the time there had been travelers going through here. “If you want, I’ll tell you a secret, too, to make it even.” People usually liked the information trade; it made them feel safer while confiding in you.

“I suppose that would be fair.”

He seemed like the type that needed a real secret to feel even, so you told him something you’d never told anyone, “My abilities started showing when I was a baby. Not even four months old yet.”

Those grey eyes widened. “That’s . . .”

“Freakish? Impossible? You can say it; it’s not like I haven’t thought it all before.”

“You . . .” Adrian chewed his lip thoughtfully. “You must be quite strong if they appeared that early.”

You leaned in and whispered as if telling a bigger secret, “Why do you think Anya wants me to burn off my extra energy every night?”

The gears were practically visible as they turned in his head, some grand scheme forming beneath that sleek, black hair. You wondered what he would look like if he were allowed to use his powers like you, if he were healthy like a grisha was supposed to be. Wordlessly, he extended a hand into the space between you.

You could only stare as the light dimmed around Adrian’s fingers until there appeared to be a writhing black mass where his hand should have been. Very suddenly, you understood why he and his mother were so secretive; you’d never heard of someone with this sort of power. Reaching out your own hand, you extended a tongue of flame towards him. Within moments, that empty space between you was occupied by a line of fire dancing around a line of shadows.

When you looked back up at him, he was smiling. You couldn’t help but do the same.

#the darkling x reader #the darkling imagine #general kirigan x reader #general kirigan imagine #aleksander morozova x reader #aleksander morozova imagine #reader insert #inferni au

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watchmegetobsessed · 4 years ago

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Serendipity - Part I. (Harry Styles)

a/n: i am BEYOND excited to share this story with you guys! i’ve been working on it for over a month now if not more and what started as just a oneshot, slowly grew into this massive fic. i really hope you’ll love the story of Harry and Lis bc im obsessed with them haha. please feel free to share your thoughts and reactions about the chapter and the fic itself!

pairing: Harry x OC (Annalise Lloyd)

word count: 8k

SERIES MASTERPOST ⚫️ my masterlist ⚫️ come and talk to me about Serendipity! ⚫️ consider buying me a coffee!

Serendipity (n.) Finding something good without looking for it.

There are people who plot out their New Year’s Eve plan even months before the last day of the year, making sure they will be celebrating the upcoming year at the best party possible. And then there are the folks who just ignore it until the very last moment and end up spending at a random place with even more random people.

Harry Styles desperately wanted to be the first kind, but unfortunately often found himself falling into the second case scenario. With his busy schedule and endless ocean of his upcoming projects, he never really had time to think about the last party of the day and usually ended up just tagging along some of his friends wherever they headed to. This year was no different, having to work up until even the last few days of the year, Harry had little to no thought about where he would be when the clock strikes midnight.

Just about a day before it, one of his old high school friends, Griff hits him up with a text if he would want to join them for the celebration at the pub he opened not that long ago. Harry didn’t think twice to accept the invitation, finally checking one more thing off his list, so he won’t just stay at home, and pathetically fall asleep at ten.

It’s nothing big or fancy, Griff assures him in the morning when he rings his friend up to ask when he should arrive and what he should bring.

“Nothing, ey? Just come and ‘ave a good time with us,” Griff tells him, though he already knows Harry won’t show up empty handed.

December 31st

A little before seven Harry opts for a quick shower before he dives deep in his wardrobe to find something to wear. He is torn between wearing a fancy outfit or something cozier, but eventually stands up for the latter, putting on a pair of light washed jeans, a simple white button up and a seaweed green knitted jumper under his coat. He doesn’t pay much attention to his hair, his curls falling around his head in a messy, warm brown halo. It’s been raining all day, it wouldn’t have had any use to try to tame them.

Slowly but surely, Harry feels the buzz in himself, excited to see his old friends and maybe meet some new people while having drinks and just relaxing. He grabs a bottle of fancy whiskey from his bar and heads out around eight.

Griff is one of the few people Harry stayed in touch with after his career launched so abruptly, the two of them often met up whenever Harry was around, having a pint together, just chatting up. Griff bought an old pub a few years prior and completely renewed it, opened at the beginning of the year, Harry was there at the opening party, he had way too much to drink, but he surely had a great time.

“There he is! My favorite arrogant son of a bitch!” Harry immediately hears as soon as he steps into the pub that’s already quite filled.

The tall lad makes his way through the groups of guests until he can envelop his old friend in a warm, brotherly hug as Harry chuckles at the name he just called him. Griff always loved that line from Harry’s song and never missed a chance to call him that. He doesn’t mind though, keeps that playful side of their friendship he always adored so much.

“Good to see you, mate,” Harry smirks at him. “Here, this is for yeh.” He holds out the pricey drink and Griff shakes his head at him.

“Told ya not to bring anything!” he sighs but accepts the gift anyway, knowing well Harry would just sneak into the back anyway and leave the liquor on his desk. “We ‘ave a nice evening ahead of us. Got food, drinks, everything’s on me, take what yeh want,” Griff assures him as the two of them walk further inside.

Harry sees a few familiar faces, high school friends, kids from around the neighborhood that are now grown adults, just like him, but there are quite a lot of guests he doesn’t know.

“C’mon, yeh need t’ ‘ave a welcome drink with me,” Griff grins as he pulls Harry to the bar and fills up two shot glasses generously. Harry doesn’t even bother to ask him what it is, he just takes the glass willingly and after they clink in the middle they both send it down.

Harry grimaces as the hard liquor burns down his throat, Griff never played around with the soft drinks, he knows what hits the best and fastest and Harry figures it’s one of those drinks that would have him crawling on the floor after two more shots.

It doesn’t take Harry long to mix and mingle, get into conversations and meet new people, just enjoying the welcoming and warm atmosphere of the party. He is pleased to see that people treat him just like any other guest, rather than a famous person and he is beyond thankful for that.

Near the bar, Griff has set up a quite rich buffet table filled with all kinds of snacks and food. It’s way past ten when Harry shuffles over there feeling his stomach growling. He grabs a paper plate and his eyes roam everything that’s set on the table. Humming to himself he decides to opt for the delicious looking fries, his mouth drools just at the sight of them, so he puts a generous amount to his plate before his eyes spot the bowl of peas. That’s exactly what he needs to go with the fries.

He goes a little overboard, but he couldn’t care less. Once he is satisfied with his meal he puts back the spoon that was sat in the bowl of peas, right when someone reaches for it. Glancing up his gaze meets a pair of warm brown eyes and a shy, but playful smile. Harry can’t stop himself from smiling instantly as the woman takes the spoon and fills her plate with peas. He looks down and sees that her plate is filled with the exact same things: fries and peas.

“Excellent choice,” he smirks teasingly and her eyes snap down to her plate before she sees the similarity on Harry’s plate. She lets out an airy chuckle before she tugs her chestnut colored, wavy locks behind her ears with her now free hand.

“Mother always told me to balance the junk out with something healthy,” she admits, the corners of her mouth curling up as she blinks a little shy under Harry’s burning gaze.

He always knew he had an eye for pretty things and he never dared to deny himself from admiring them once he laid his eyes on something he found breathtaking. She was by far the prettiest thing he has seen in quite some time, so he doesn’t shy away from taking in her figure in front of him. Delicious looking curves dressed in a pair of tight jeans and a sheer shirt with a top underneath it, the front tugged into the waist of the jeans. Her hair looks effortless, but he can tell she probably spent some time forming the natural looking waves before coming here. The thin eyeliner makes her eyes appear more cat-like and her long lashes dance around with each look she pays him.

“You want to—um, sit?” she stammers nodding towards an empty table near the buffet, a soft blush tainting her soft skin. Harry absolutely adores the hint of innocence in her features.

“’fcourse,” he nods and follows her.

The two of them move over to the table and sit down with their meal, Harry sneaking a fry into his mouth right away.

“’M Harry, by the way,” he says, realizing he hasn’t even introduced himself just yet. Some people tend to look at him weird whenever he does it, as if it should be common knowledge to know who he is, but he never takes it for granted. Luckily, she doesn’t find it funny or weird that he introduced himself.

“Annalise. But everyone just calls me Lis,” she explains and holds out a hand for him, which at first looks a little odd and he can tell she regrets the motion, but he appreciates it, even finds it cute. So before she can pull her hand back he takes it and gives it a soft shake. “So what brings you here tonight?” she asks as both of them digs into their food.

“Griff invited me, saved me last minute, didn’t have any plans.”

“How do you know him?”

Harry finds it amusing that she didn’t bring up that a famous person like him would probably have tons of invitations to fancy parties. He hates when people assume that his social life is blossoming at all times, packed with parties and events to attend every day.

“We went to high school together. Stayed in touch through the years.”

Lis nods with a small smile before her eyes return to the plate in front of her.

“How ‘bout you?”

“Oh, um… Well, Griff and I had a blind date like ages ago, but we both figured out pretty quickly we are never gonna be more than just friends. But that we are perfect for. Have been meeting up every once in a while. I was kind of in the same shoe like you, wasn’t planning on coming out tonight, but… I was forced to,” she admits with a nervous chuckle.

“Y’ don’t like to go out?”

“I—uh, don’t really have the time,” she answers, clearly a bit nervous at the topic so Harry decides to just drop it.

The two of them sit there, just talking and eating and with each passing moment Harry finds himself more and more enchanted by the woman sitting on his right. The way she rambles sometimes, how her nose scrunches whenever she is laughing hard, how she likes to keep tugging her hair behind her ears all the time, are the smallest things but they easily catch Harry’s attention.

Besides, she is not just the looks, also an amazing company. Easy to talk about anything, even the riskier things too. She doesn’t shy away from giving her honest and raw opinion, but also doesn’t attack if someone thinks differently. Instead, she is open to other point of views, seeking opportunities to learn and grow. It’s a mindset Harry values highly and feels like it’s hard to find it. But on this evening in his mate’s pub, he found a gem, it feels like.

The plates soon get swapped to beers and Lis is getting giddier with each gulp, which he finds amusing, especially because she lets her thoughts slip without thinking about them and it allows Harry to look into that pretty head of hers easier.

He doesn’t fail to notice how his heart flutters every time she touches his arm or hand whenever she is deep in a story. The warm touch of her soft hand is sending him into trembling and he is glad they are sitting because he surely would be having a hard time keeping himself up on his feet. She is just the kind of person that wraps others around her fingers without even trying or noticing.

Though it’s only been over an hour since he first laid his eyes on her, he feels like he has known her for ages. The connection built up fast and smoothly, sweeping Harry right off his feet. He’s got it bad for her and he already knows he wants to see her again once this night ends.

“Oh, it’s almost midnight!” Annalise gasps snapping out of her thoughts, a hand snapping to Harry’s upper arm. The crowd is starting to buzz, getting ready for the count down.

“C’mon, let’s get some champagne,” Harry tells her and helps her up from her seat.

They head to the bar and each of them grabs a flute filled with the sparkly alcohol. They stand a little to the side, but still mingled in the crowd of guests. Harry can feel his hands getting sweaty as he thinks about the countdown. Every fiber in his body is aching to kiss her, even though he knows it’s quite crazy knowing the fact they have known each other for only two hours. But he just can’t help it, she has a spell on him with just one look, making him act like a teenager in love.

Annalise peeks up at Harry with a lazy smile, the drinks have made her a little lightheaded, but she is nowhere near being drunk. Her thoughts are absolutely clear and they all focus on the man standing close to her.

Harry watches her bite into her bottom lip and he wonders if she is thinking about the same thing. If she’d be mad if he kissed her when the clock strikes midnight or slap him right across his face. He notices as she draws a deep breath, eyes looking around before they return to him.

“Get yo’ drinks, lads!” Griff shouts from somewhere behind the bar and those who haven’t picked up a glass quickly work on the problem.

Then the countdown begins.

“Ten!... Nine!... Eight!...”

Annalise glances up at Harry and her cheeks blush when she catches him already looking at her. She wishes she had her beer so she could hide in her glass from his burning eyes.

“Seven!... Six!...”

Harry turns so his whole body is facing her and takes just one tiny step towards her. When she doesn’t back away from him, he takes it as a sign that she might want the same thing as him.

“Five!... Four!...”

She looks straight up at him with a sheepish smile and pushes herself against him right when his free hand finds its way to her waist. She sucks in a sharp breath, but doesn’t move while Harry is aching to taste her plump, soft lips.

“Three!... Two!... One!... Happy New Year!”

The crowd cheers as one, guests are clapping and screaming, welcoming the new year with high hopes and full of planes for the new chapter that just started.

Harry and Annalise lock eyes and while everything around them is a full chaos, he feels like a bubble of silence and tranquility is surrounding them. Harry sucks in his breath, lips parted as he doesn’t break his gaze with hers. There’s a moment of hesitation, but the voice in the back of his mind tells him that he can’t let this moment go to waste.

Fuck it! He tells himself before he leans down and his lips meet hers in a soft, warm and breathtaking kiss.

He is a man who believes in magic, in things he can’t explain rationally, he is a man who doesn’t try to pull reality into everything when something odd happens. When his lips meet hers, he is swept right off his feet with just that tiny touch. It’s not a demanding kiss, very restricted and shy, but it still makes his insides tremble for her, almost falling to his knees right in front of her.

There’s a moment of hesitation from her side, when their lips are just touching in a little awkward way, but it fades into nothing before Harry could wrap his head around it, her lips parting as she lets him deepen the kiss, a soft moan slipping out of her throat that brings a knot to his stomach.

The moment is so vivid, raw and intoxicating, he wishes he could bottle it up and open it to have a taste of her anytime later, keep her in his pocket just to have her lips glued to his like this whenever he needs to be grounded or taken away from the world. His fingers dig into her waist, pulling her close to his body, hoping to just merge into her, become one with the woman in his arms.

She softly glides her hands up his arms, through his shoulders before they stop at the back of his neck, digging into his soft curls, while never breaking the kiss. Their lips stay melted together, tongues and teeth clashing, they are a hot mess in the first minutes of the new year.

The cheering slowly dies down and the usual buzzing of conversations and laughter replaces it, but the two of them are still busy with each other and it takes quite some time to pull themselves out of the bubble they created.

“Happy New Year, Lis,” Harry smiles down, lips swollen, eyes glistening from the joy that’s filling up his veins. She glances up at him shyly from under her lashes.

“Happy New Year, Harry,” she whispers, biting into her bottom lip, coming off the high this little make out session gave her.

One hour passes by, then another and the party is starting to slowly die down. People are flaking out the door, the crowd is getting smaller with each door opening.

Harry and Annalise remain in the corner of the place after their kiss, a barrier that’s been noticeably present before has come down as Harry has his arm swung over the back of her chair and she lets herself lean against his side. There’s something so calming and tranquil in just being so close to each other, sharing thoughts and stories while his fingers graze on her shoulder gently and her head always falls to his shoulder when she laughs on something. He loves her laugh, it could easily light up any place and Harry can’t help but feel sorry for the people who don’t see her shine. So many guests didn’t get the chance to get to know her, but on the other hand, he is a bit selfish, he wants her all to himself. No one else should have the honor of making her laugh or bringing a smile to her perfect lips. He wants her all to himself, even if it makes him sound like a mad man.

After she leaves to the restroom, she comes back with her phone in her hands and a tired smile playing on her lips.

“I, uhh—called an Uber. I really should get going,” she tells him and he wants to make her stay. He wants this evening to last forever, but he can’t ask her to stay longer than she wants, so he just slowly nods.

“I’ll walk you out,” he offers, but it’s more like a fact.

The two of them find their coats on the packed rack, Annalise says goodbye to the handful of people she knows, hugging Griff before they head outside to wait for her car to arrive.

“I really enjoyed tonight,” Harry mumbles, shoving his hands into his coat’s pockets, feeling like a nervous teenage boy talking to his crush. She glances up at him with a smile, but there’s something clouding her eyes he can’t really put his finger on.

“Me too,” she assures him, a pair of headlights turning the corner and they both look in the approaching car’s direction before facing each other. “It was really great meeting you, Harry. Take care of yourself in the new year,” she tells her, but he doesn’t like the weight of her words. It sounds like a proper goodbye, like she is bracing herself to never meet him again, but he can’t let that happen.

“Can I—Uh, can I have your number? I would love to take you out sometime.”

The car stops next to them and she nods in the driver’s way to let him know she’s the one he is supposed to pick up. Taking a step to the backseat, she looks back at Harry.

“I’m really sorry, Harry, but we can’t.”

Devastation washes over him, her words are like a punch into his stomach each. Why is she rejecting him? Did she not enjoy the evening? Did he say something stupid? She seemed to be having a great time, so why can’t he see her again?

“What? Are you sure? Because I really loved tonight and would love to see you again.”

Annalise opens the car door and shoots him an apologetic look. He has never felt this helpless in his life, than at that moment, looking at the woman of his dreams escape from his reach.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t get into… whatever it is you want from me. I really am sorry, I wish it was different.”

“But I just want to see you again. I thought… You didn’t feel like it was something special?” he breathes out, feeling the world crashing down on him with each passing moment.

“I did, but I can’t do this. I’m sorry. Take care, Harry,” she sighs, clearly not happy about her own actions and he doesn’t understand why she is fleeing away like this.

He stands there, completely frozen as she gets into the car and shuts the door open. Their eyes meet through the window one last time before the car starts moving and she falls out of his view. He stares after her until the very last moment, when the car disappears at the end of the street, leaving him in pieces from the major rejection he just suffered.

He stays out there until his nose and cheeks turn red and his ears are freezing off, part of him wishing that if he just waits she’s gonna magically reappear and tell him it was just a joke. He can’t believe he met such a wonderful creature and had to let her go like she didn’t flip his whole world upside down under just a couple of hours. Does she know how much of an effect she had on him?

She probably doesn’t, he thinks to herself, because then she wouldn’t have left so abruptly and without a trace for him to find her again.

When Harry returns to the pub, he is met with a tipsy Griff, shoving a pint into his hand immediately.

“Ay, saw you hanging with Lis all night!” he teases Harry, but the mentioning of her name just makes his heart ache. However, knowing that Griff is friends with her, he is ready to use him as a way to get to her.

“Yeah, hey, you have her number?” he asks, trying his best to look as innocent as possible, but Griff sees right through him, even with all the alcohol in his body.

“Sorry, mate. F’she didn’t give it to ya, I won’t go against her.”

“I’m begging you, Griff. I need to see her again!” he sighs in despair, ready to do anything he can to get to her.

“Y’not the first bloke to fall for her magic. I know what it feels like, but I can’t do anything, sorry.” He shrugs his shoulders, giving an apologetic look to his friend before he joins another conversation.

Harry could scream from the frustration, the urge to punch something or someone is growing with each passing moment, but he has to realize there’s nothing he can do at this point other than accept the fact that he met this wonderful woman, had the best night with her and then was forced to watch her walk out of his life before she could even become part of it properly.

Harry starts to realize that what he thought about heartbreaks is nothing compared to the feeling Annalise left in his heavy heart.

There has to be a solid reason for what she did. Or did not do.

Endless theories about Annalise flood his mind through the days following that night when he was forced to watch her leave on such a bitter and painful note. Harry couldn’t stop himself from making up the most ridiculous cases just to give himself a possible peace of mind, but neither of them brought him enough comfort to forget about her.

His best shot was that she had a boyfriend, or even worse, a husband. This was the only version that sounded somewhat real and believable, though he just knew she is not the type of woman to cheat on a significant other.

How would you know? You spent just one evening with her, she could be a serial killer for all you know! Harry’s rational side was always quick to shut him down when his thought swirled around the idea of knowing her well enough to assume anything about her.

As the days dragged by him in a painful pace, he slowly had to realize it’s going to be a question in his life he’ll never get an answer to, so he just has to learn to live with the thought of the woman that got away.

The end of January rolls around faster than he could comprehend, February comes and he finds himself spending his days mostly in the studio, cooking up new music. Studio sessions are his favorite. That’s his element, he feels safe and comfortable, surrounded by people he trusts and enjoys creating his art fully. In the new year, he has also been eager to pick up a new hobby so he has been trying himself out in knitting and painting recently, finding both of them just a tad bit too hard for him just yet, but they were enough to get his mind off of the one woman who was constantly occupying his thoughts following New Year’s Eve.

Sitting in an armchair in the studio, he and his bandmates are listening back to some recordings they did today and he is trying to find that one thing that keeps throwing him off whenever he hears the song.

“I think it’s great,” Mitch states once the recording ends, and Harry agrees, it is great, but not the best.

“Maybe we could tone down the keyboard a little through the bridge, give more space for the guitar,” he contemplates, but really, he is just shooting in the dark, not sure what it is that keeps him on edge about the song.

“Why don’t we have a break?” Sarah suggests with a warm smile, seeing how everyone is keen on leaving for a little, except Harry, who is still fixated on mastering the song. But he agrees to have the break, however while everyone gets ready to leave and grab something to eat from the diner that’s around the corner, Harry stays where he is, eyes glued to his notebook.

“You’re not coming?” Charlotte asks him and he just shakes his head.

“No, not that hungry.” He looks up and shoots them a short smile and though they all can tell he could use the time out, they know him enough already that he won’t leave before he finds what’s not right.

“Alright. We’ll be back in an hour,” Mitch informs him and he dismisses them all with a nod.

He stays right there, going through the lyrics a few more times, making tiny changes in hopes that it’ll fix it all, but he can feel himself growing frustrated. Doesn’t matter how hard he is trying, he realizes his brain needs a break. Letting out a defeated huff he leans back, looking around in the empty studio. He doesn’t feel particularly hungry, but he could use something to snack on. So grabbing his coat he locks up the studio and heads out to the nearby Tesco they usually run out during sessions.

He is still humming the melody to himself when he walks in, a pair of sunglasses sitting on the bridge of his nose, his famous curls hidden under a green beanie. He doesn’t bother to get a cart or basket, just strolls inside and roams down the aisles, trying to decide what he desires.

He settles on some kind of canned tea and a protein bar, but before he heads towards the cash registers, he wanders down the aisle where they keep cereals, looking around aimlessly. It’s the middle of the day on a weekday, most people are at work at this hour, so just a few other customers are lingering around, filling their carts. At first, he doesn’t pay any attention to the figure a little further down the aisle, his eyes are glued to the shelves, but then he just mindlessly glances to his left, his brain not even processing what, or who he is seeing at first. Then he takes a double take and his stomach drops to the tiled floor when he recognizes the woman, deep in her thoughts to decide which cereal to buy.

Annalise is standing just a few meters away from him, looking just as beautiful as he remembered, wearing a pair of simple jeans, light blue sneakers and a white jacket, her hair is in a loose ponytail on the top of her head.

“Lis?” he calls out, as if he thinks she is just a ghost. Taking a few steps closer he watches as her eyes fall from the products on the shelves to him, then they widen and her lips part in shock.

“Harry? Wha-what are you doing here?” she asks and Harry is quick to read the panic out of her tone as she looks around cautiously.

“I’m… shopping?” he answers with a soft chuckle, holding up the items in his hands.

“Haven’t seen you around here.”

“The studio we use is nearby, I drop by sometimes. But today is clearly my lucky day.” Even though her reaction is giving him doubts, he can’t hide his joy upon seeing her again, fate clearly playing on his side this time.

“Uh, yeah?” she lets out an anxious chuckle, her eyes often wandering off him, as if she is waiting for someone to show up and it just fuels Harry’s rich theories about her.

“So, are you here with your boyfriend?” he boldly asks, deciding to just go for it. Annalise’s eyes widen once again, but not in a way that makes him think he just busted her, it’s more of a confused one.

“Boyfriend? What are you talking about?”

“Well, you basically ran away from me that night, I figured you had someone and that’s why you didn’t want to give me your number.” He tries his best not to sound petty or bitter, though that’s exactly what he’s been feeling ever since she left that night.

“Harry, that’s… not the case.”

“Okay, so does this mean you’ll give me your number this time?” he tries and he is so busy with her presence, he doesn’t even notice when a smaller frame runs past him down the aisle.

“Mommy! I want this!”

At first, he doesn’t even register that the little boy is talking to Annalise, he dismisses his presence, eyes still fixated on her, but then her gaze leaves him and turns down to the boy, holding up a bar of chocolate.

“Honey, that’s too big. Choose something smaller, alright?”

It takes Harry a few moments to put one and one together. This kid just ran up to her, called her mommy and most likely not on accident since she answered him, very much talking to him like his mother. Though Harry can’t see his own face, he knows it fell, shock completely taking over him as his thoughts finally add up. Annalise looks back at him in panic, completely puzzled about what to do or say.

“Benji, go get another one, a smaller one while I talk to my friend here,” Annalise softly tells the boy.

He turns to Harry, eyes meeting his as he cocks his head to the side, examining the shocked adult standing in front of him.

“Who’s this?” he blurts out.

“Just a friend, alright? Go get your chocolate,” she urges. Benji gives Harry another look before nodding and running off, leaving them alone once again in the cereal aisle. “Harry, I-I’m sorry, you weren’t supposed to know.”

“Are you married?” is his first question, taking her by surprise.

“What?”

“The father. Is he your husband?” he urges, eager to clear the picture. Annalise shakes her head.

“No, we were never even married.”

He feels relief washing over him. At least at this point he doesn’t feel like a homewrecker. If he found out she wasn’t only a mother but also married, and that she cheated on the dude with him, that would have crushed him. But it’s one less thing to worry about on a long list.

“Okay, it’s fine. You are not married, it’s all good,” he breathes out and it brings her a smile through this absurd situation.

“You thought I was married?”

“Or at least had a boyfriend, yeah,” he nods, hands on his hips as he licks his lips. He surely had a mini panic attack, but he can feel the life coming back into his body.

“Do I come off like the kind to cheat that easily?” she asks with raised eyebrows, but she didn’t take it as an offense, she more like finds it funny rather than hurtful.

“No, not at all! I was just trying to figure out why you rejected me and this was my best shot!”

“I’m sorry, Harry. I just… I didn’t know how to tell and I didn’t really think you would want to see me again after that night.”

“I think I made it clear that I wanted to when I asked for your number.”

“Well, yes, but I thought you just wanted a hookup and that’s just not what I can do.”

“Because of…” he gestures towards the boy that jolted down the aisle just a few minutes ago.

“Because of Benji, yeah.”

“Alright, it’s understandable, but I did not just want a hookup, and that’s still not what I want,” he clears, his words certainly surprising her. This is definitely not what she was expecting when she came down to get groceries today.

“Harry…” she breathes out, already feeling guilty that she is about to turn him down once again. “You can’t be serious.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m a single mother with a six year-old and you are… you.”

“I don’t see your point,” he truthfully answers.

“I’m not some model you chatted up at some award show, who is living her best life, traveling the world just like you. My days consist of work, doing laundry, cleaning the house, cooking, doing first grade homework, going to football practice and watching cartoons. We are polar opposites.”

“No, just our lifestyles, but that doesn’t mean we can’t get closer.”

“Is that really what you want?”

Harry is about to answer right when Benji emerges again, proudly holding up a bar of KitKat in his hand this time.

“This one! This one!” he declares, stopping next to Annalise.

“Okay, put it in,” she nods and the little boy throws the chocolate into the cart with a beaming smile. Her eyes flicker back to Harry, who is now staring down at Benji, who is seemingly not that interested in him at the moment, his attention is more focused on the cereals on the shelves.

She is aware she can’t really push this conversation, but she also doesn’t want Benji to hear it.

“Benji, can you get me three apples? I’ll go get paper towels in the next aisle, alright?”

“Three?” he asks holding up three fingers to make sure he heard her right.

“Yes.”

Benji nods and runs off once again, while Annalise grabs a random box of cereal off the shelf and starts pushing her cart, Harry walking along with him.

“It’s nice that you want to prove that you are fine with whatever baggage I come with, but I’m not stupid, Harry. I know I’m not the jackpot and I’m not naïve, I’m not trying to make myself believe that I’m easy to date when I’m clearly not.”

“You act like you are the only single parent out in the dating field. I genuinely don’t think that it’s that big of a deal.”

“Yeah, that’s what you are saying now. But then we would get more involved, you’d grow frustrated that I can’t just go after you whenever you feel like it, or that I would have to cancel on plans because Benji is sick or has homework to do that he needs help with. Or that my Friday night consists of playing board games, then watching whatever cartoon Benji is keen on seeing and I’m in bed by ten while you probably spend these nights out with your friends, hopping from one bar to the other. And I’m not saying that you shouldn’t, that’s exactly what you should be doing at your age… at our age. But for me, it’s just different.”

She is not talking just out of theories. She has tried to date, several times, but it was always kind of doomed from the beginning. Men in their mid-twenties don’t want to be a stand-in dad, though it’s completely not what she expects. But as time went by, they all grew tired of having to deal with a kid in the relationship and they all ended up leaving and she can’t even blame them. It’s not what they want in life at this point, but she can’t be what they wanted her to be so slowly but surely she gave up on finding a man before she turns thirty and her peers start to get into the whole idea of having a family that’s already been her reality since she was eighteen.

And the situation is even more complicated with Harry. An international rockstar is definitely not the right person for her and vice versa. She can only imagine what some lowlifes would think when they found out he is dating a single mother. People can be cruel for no damn reason and she is definitely not in the right mindset to be humiliated just because she is a mother.

The two of them move down to the next aisle so she can grab the paper towels along with some dish soap. Harry is keen on making her understand that he is still very much interested and he has nothing against her being a mother. It was just a little shocking to find out this way, instead of hearing about it from her.

“I think you have an unreasonable picture in your head of what my life is like,” he explains. “Yes, I do travel a lot and I go to parties, but it’s not what I do most in life. And I’m not expecting you to turn your whole life around for me.”

“Yeah, but dating me is kind of me asking you to turn your whole life around for us,” she simply says and he is stunned at her words, having nothing to bring up against them. “Look,” she sighs. “I appreciate the effort and everything, but I want to save you the time, just like I originally wanted to. I know that it seems reasonable now, but once you get involved, it’s a whole different world, I’m telling you. And while I would love to give you the chance to prove me wrong, I still have to think about Benji. I can’t just drag someone into his life and then have them leave when they figure out it’s not what they want after all. He needs stability around him and it’s enough that he can’t get that from his father.”

Harry has a million questions roaming in his head that he is dying to ask. Mostly about the father, because if he is not in the picture, he can’t imagine what kind of scumbag he is for leaving someone like her. But he keeps them all to himself, especially when Benji appears again with the three apples, putting them into the cart with a proud smile. The boy turns to Harry this time, finally acknowledging his presence.

“Who are you?” he asks. Harry looks down at him and pushes everything else into the back of his mind as he hunches down a bit, holding out his hand for the boy, a friendly smile playing on his lips.

“I’m Harry, your mum’s friend. Nice to meet you.”

The boy doesn’t hesitate to take his right held out, his small hand almost getting lost in Harry’s big palm as they shake hands like two adults. Harry is stunned by how confident he is, unlike most kids his age.

“I’m Benjamin Lloyd,” the boy introduces himself smiling and Harry can see the resemblance now clearer than anything. His smile is certainly his mother’s and the shape of his eyes along with his chin are the exact same as Annalise’s, leaving only a few traits that must have been inherited from his father.

Benjamin lets go of Harry’s hand and turns back to his mother completely unbothered by the man he just met.

“Mum, are we staying on the playground a little?” he asks as they all move down the aisle, heading to the cash register.

“Uh, yeah, we can stay for a little, but you need to do homework when we get home. Mrs. Conrad sent me all the work you missed today so we have to catch up on everything. You got away with faking sickness this morning, but you are doing the work you missed.”

Benji doesn’t fuss about having to do work, he knew this would happen when he faked to have a tummy ache, he nods understanding the importance of doing his homework and Harry is amazed by how great his behavior is. Most kids his age would have thrown a tantrum over what Annalise just said, but not Benji. He is like a small adult, Harry thinks.

“I honestly don’t see why you still have to push me away completely. Did you not enjoy talking with me?�� Harry continues as they stand in line, Annalise putting everything to the belt from the cart while Benji is busy playing around the poles that separate the lines.

“Of course I did!” she sighs.

“So then why can’t we just continue? See where it goes?”

“Because that’s just not how things work for me,” she says with a soft, sad chuckle.

“What, you can’t have friends?” Harry asks innocently as Annalise finishes packing, puts a divider on the belt so Harry can put his items behind hers.

“Oh, so you just want to be friends?” she asks raising her eyebrows, seeing through him easily. Harry opens his mouth, but then closes, a cheeky smile stretching across her face that makes her chuckle.

“For now, yeah?” he tries to sound convincing, but it’s more of a joke.

The cashier starts to scan her items so she pushes the cart over to the end and starts packing everything back, Benji still climbing on the poles, completely oblivious to the conversation happening around him, or he just chooses not to listen.

“You are unbelievable,” she shakes her head at the man in the line. The cashier finishes up with her items and she taps her card on the terminal, pushing the cart away a little.

Harry is scared that she’ll flee the moment she gets the receipt and leaves before she could go after her, but for his biggest surprise, she just pushes the cart a little away from the cash register and starts packing her items into totebags. Benji runs up to her and she gives him his KitKat without a word, the boy happily tearing the packaging open, snacking on the chocolate.

Harry is quick to finish with his items, catching up with Annalise as the three of them head out of the supermarket.

“Look, I’m gonna be honest with you, I haven’t felt like this with anyone in a long time, Lis. I loved talking to you, I feel like we had a connection, and I think you felt it too. I would hate to waste whatever we had so I’m offering you my friendship. I want to hang out, spend time with you, just as two adults enjoying each other’s company. Nothing more, if that’s what you really want for now. And we can see where it heads later. How does that sound?”

They reach her car and Benji runs to the backseat, tearing the door open while Annalise opens the trunk and she is surprised to see Harry help her pack her bags into the car, but she doesn’t protest.

“I really don’t know…” she sighs.

“Come on! Just friends. Give it a try! I have a great feeling about it and I promise to be very careful. I understand that you need boundaries because of Benji and I’m not trying to make you uncomfortable in any way. But you do have to realize that you need to open up at one point. You can’t use him as an excuse forever.”

“I’m not using him as an excuse!” she points out, but she can feel how that’s not the whole truth.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, Lis,” Harry smirks, pulling his phone out of his coat’s pocket and unlocking it he holds it out for her once she has closed the trunk. “I’m just asking for your phone number, not to travel the world with me. You can decide to block me later if you change your mind, it’s nothing serious, alright?”

Annalise’s hesitation is clearer than the light and in any other case, he would take offence at it, but not with her. Harry is keen on proving to her that he meant everything he said and that he is willing to take a chance with her.

Chewing on the inside of her cheeks, she glances back at Benji, who has climbed into his seat in the back of the car. She is fighting with herself, bringing up all pros and contras until she finally caves in. Grabbing the phone from Harry’s hand she types her number in and gives herself a ring so she can save his number as well. She hands the device back and Harry’s smile is so wide, she almost wants to punch him in the face, but she can also feel the excitement running through her veins.

“Great. You won’t regret it, Lis,” Harry beams shoving his phone back into his pocket. His hand reaches for her arm and gives it a gentle squeeze as he doesn’t want to try anything further with her at the moment.

“I better not,” she mumbles shaking her head before turning around to buckle Benji in. When that’s done she pays one last glance at Harry who stands at the car next to hers, watching her get behind the wheel and back out from her spot. He waves at her happily and she just nods in his way before turning around the car and driving away.

“Why the fuck didn’t you tell me?!” Harry rages through the phone, his anger only met with a soft chuckle from Griff on the other end of the call.

“Mate, I told ya, s’not my place! She didn’t tell ya, so I didn’t either.”

“You saw how hooked I was on her! You could have, no, no… you should have told me!”

Harry was quick to run back to the studio and called Griff right away to load everything out on him. He felt betrayed that his friend didn’t let him know this small little detail even after seeing him all crushed after she left without a trace to find her. He gets his reasoning, he does, but it still doesn’t stop him from being so bloody mad at his mate.

“Sorry! I really am sorry! But I know how protective she is over Benji. I was not gonna betray her like tha’.”

Harry takes a deep breath, paying up and down the hallway in the studio, trying his best to calm his nerves. It’s an unfortunate situation as a whole, he sees that clearly, but the frustration how it had to go down at the end is getting the best out of him for sure. He is not mad at one specific person, because everyone was doing what they thought to be the best, but everything added up to be such a shitty outcome, or at least on Harry’s side.

Pinching the bridge of his nose he huffs again, putting aside his burning emotions.

“Okay, okay. Sorry to snap at you like that, it was just… a lot.”

“I get it, don’ worry about it,” Griff assures him, glasses clinking behind him somewhere, he is probably working at the pub as they are speaking. “She gave ya her number now, right?”

“Yeah, she didn’t want to, but I talked her ears off,” Harry chuckles lowly. He could still feel the excitement that rushed through him when she finally gave in.

“M’happy for ya, mate. But please be bloody careful. She doesn’t need any shit right now, has enough on her plate.”

“I know. I’m just trying to be her friend first, that’s all.”

“Alright. Swing by the pub sometime soon, if ya want.”

“Sure thing. Bye Griff,” Harry smiles before ending the call.

Walking back into the recording room, all eyes snap up to him and he stops in his track.

“What?”

“The hell was that about?” Sarah questions, asking in the name of everyone in the room. They all just heard his rage outside and now are dying to know what it was about.

“I uhh—I found her,” he simply says and watches all his bandmates gawk back at him with wide eyes.

“What? Did you like, hire a private investigator or something?” Charlotte asks, making Harry chuckle as he shakes his head no.

“No, I ran into her at Tesco. Well, her and her… son.”

His last word washes out the whole room, everyone stops breathing for a moment as they stare back at Harry who has that ‘yeah, you heard me right’ look on his face.

“A son?” Mitch asks snapping out of his shock. “Like a proper kid?”

“How do you not have a proper kid?” Harry asks him with a look.

“I don’t know! I’m just… surprised. How old is the kid?”

“Like six or seven. She said something about being a first grader.”

“Didn’t you say she is a year younger than you?” Sarah asks, as everyone is doing the silent math in their head.

“She is, with one year. Or that’s what she told me.”

“That makes her, what, like eighteen when she had the kid? And what about the father?” Charlotte trails, still trying hard to put the picture together.

“She didn’t say much, but from what I understood, he is not really in the picture. So at least she is not married or something,” Harry adds, still open about the relief he is feeling about that information.

“This shit is twisted,” Sarah huffs. “So what’s gonna happen now? Did you ask for her number again?”

“Ask?” Harry chuckles bitterly. “I begged, Sarah. I was ready to be on my knees in the middle of a bloody Tesco.”

A round of laughter runs through the room and the mood finally eases a little after the shock that just set in. It wasn’t the fact that Annalise had a son that sent everyone over the edge, but rather that she didn’t say a single word about it and how it all surfaced.

“And did she give it to you?” Mitch prompts and Harry nods, a shy smile stretching on his lips as the two girls start clapping and cheering.

They all saw his long face after New Year’s Eve, it couldn’t be missed how he was moping around for weeks. He told them all about this girl he met, who completely blew his mind just before breaking his heart. Now that she was found and gave him just a small crumble of information about her to him that makes him able to contact her, the change is visible. That little sparkle in his eyes is back and that’s all his friends wanted to see.

“So what are you gonna do now?” Sarah asks as Harry walks over to one of the armchairs and makes himself comfortable.

“Now… I’ll try not to scare her off. Hopefully she won’t push me away and at least let me be her friend.”

“Friend? Is that what you want to be?”

“Of course not,” he sighs, his head dropping to the back of the armchair. “But this is all I can do for now.”

They all just nod, tasting his words and letting everything that just happened sink in. Harry is doing the same, he has a lot to think about and figure out, but there’s one thing he is one hundred percent sure about: he will not give up on Annalise.

NEXT PART

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spideyspeaches · 4 years ago

Text

We always have been ↬ fem!p.p

A/N: AHHH I love genderbent Peter skjkjhjka and I’ve only seen @justme--emily write for her so far so I wrote one of my own 😤

Summary: It was not every day you crash into your ex boyfriend in a Stark Gala, was it? Your ex boyfriend you dumped right after your senior prom? It was probably her Parker luck striking, never a good sign, she learned that from experience.

Warning: um cursing lol.

Pairing: female!Peter Parker x Harry Osborn

WC: 2k

When Mister Stark had asked her to attend one of those glorious charity galas, Penny had been elated, internally (and externally) jumping at the thought of wearing fancy gowns and walking past pretentious rich bureaucrats and business people.

She was practically lost in paradise when Miss Potts had accompanied her to shop for her dress, a beautiful blue and red full length gown, hugging her in her curves with a chinese collar neck and embroidered bust (very on brand of her).

“Is your dress comfortable? Oh god I think I should have altered it myself, it’s not too tight right?” May fretted, fixing her hairdo and last minute make up she learnt from makeup hacks videos. Groaning, Penny nudged May by her shoulders, sitting her down on her twin bed, holding her aunt’s cheeks.

“May, the dress is comfortable! Miss Potts made sure that it was altered to my size okay? Now calm down, it’s just one night.” She smiled, folding her hands under her chest. Her dress was truly comfortable, and she looked undeniably good, she checked (she was a nerd, yes, but she wasn’t blind. Especially now that she had 20/20 long vision due to her spider powers.)

“You know how I feel about you going to fancy parties, baby.” May sighed, making her wince, “the last time you went to prom ended in a disaster. Both of them”

“I know May, but on the bright side, it gained me an actual paid internship. And Mister Stark and Miss Potts are going to be present the whole time!” She reassured, squeezing her aunt’s shoulders. In all honesty, she understood her anxiety, shuddering as she remembered her prom fighting Liz’s dad, and then breaking up with Harry, “besides, I have my spidery powers remember? I’m a big girl May, I can take care of myself.”

“I know you can sweetheart, god look at you all grown up, Ben would be so proud of how much you’ve grown, my little woman.” May sniffed, getting up to caress her head. She shook her head at her aunt’s emotional state, smiling as she bowed her head at the nickname. It was something Ben used to call her- little woman.

“Ben would be proud of you too May.” Penny said, willing her eyes to not water at the sudden rush of sentiment she felt at the mention of her deceased uncle.

“Now, shoo before I change my mind and keep you all to myself!” May laughed, fixing the non existent crease near her shoulders.

“Okay okay! I’m going May, jeez it’s like you and Mister Stark are holding a shared custody of me.” Penny snickered, scrambling to wear her uncomfortable heels, the ones that matched her dress.

“Maybe I am, but I get to be the primary guardian!”

Laughing, she gave her aunt a kiss to her cheek, doing a preliminary check of her cell phone and emergency bracelet, blowing her a kiss before walking into the car that was standing outside their apartment.

The car ride was silent, her stomach bubbling with nervousness and excitement. She was practically vibrating in her seat, glad that Tony had sent another driver instead of Happy- he would have teased her incessantly for being so nervous. She had grown close to Happy, the man growing fond of her as well, but he could be an embarrassing dad at times.

The gala was everything she had imagined, brightly lit in an overpriced hall, adorning overpriced decorations with people in overpriced clothes.

“Hey Mister Stark! Thank you so much for inviting me!” She grinned, skipping towards her fath- mentor.

“Hey Pen, wow don’t you look beautiful. A little too beautiful, beware of those good for nothing boys you hear me?” Tony smiled, hugging her, a protective hand on her shoulder.

“Oh don’t mind Tony, hun, he’s only joking.” Pepper said, giving her a kiss on her cheek and doing a once over, just like May had.

“I’m serious Pep, if those boys even tried anything, you call me okay? I’ll take care of them.”

“Mister Stark, you can’t just threaten teenagers.” Penny giggled, looking at Pepper with a smirk.

“Barely a teenager kiddo, why did you grow up so fast?” He smiled, a fond look in his eyes.

“I’m nineteen Mister Stark, I think I can take care of those boys themselves.”

“Hell yeah you can, that’s my girl.”

Easy for her to say, because not long after that, Mister Stark and Pepper had abandoned her to talk to some prominent dealer about some… deals concerning Stark Industries, she didn't ask.

By the end of an hour, she was already bouncing on her heels, bored out of her mind. Even the Avengers could entertain her only so much, going back to their important work. And

Penny was an awkward girl, always finding herself in situations she was unwilling to participate in, so socialising was out of question.

She remembered the one time she had accidentally spilled coffee all over Mister Stark’s touch sensitive keyboard, stuttering the whole time. He hadn’t even been mad, reassuring her that he had done that enough times before, hence the liquid resistant keypads.

And then there was that one time the school nurse had called Tony when she was experiencing period induced fever. That was embarrassing, if not a little heartwarming to know that he cared about her enough to confront Pepper about menstrual problems. She was his daughter in everything but blood, he reminded her that every day, though not verbally.

There was also this one time she had been caught kissing MJ, but none of those were going to top what she was facing right now.

Literally.

“Penny! Penny Parker?” Harry’s chirpy voice rang in her ears, his footsteps sounding increasingly closer as she tried to hide her face behind her (non alcoholic) drink, frantically walking towards the vague figure of Mister Stark as fast as she could with her overly expensive stilettos.

It was not every day you crash into your ex boyfriend in a Stark Gala, was it? Your ex boyfriend you dumped right after your senior prom? It was probably her Parker luck striking, never a good sign, she learned that from experience.

Finally standing near Mister Stark, she tried to stand next to him, ignoring the weird look he was giving her. Penny was petite, always has been small for her age, so she was glad Mister Stark could cover her with his side. Apparently he got her cue, as he shifted slightly to hide her from whomever’s view.

“What’s wrong Pen? Some pesky boy chasing you? Accidentally met your ex?” He joked, giving the old businessman in front of him a handshake and smirking at her with amusement.

“Something like that.” She shrugged casually, snickering at Tony’s wide eyes.

“Penny! Hey it’s me, Harry.” He said, nearly standing behind her. He was either incredibly stupid or incredibly brave, weaving his way through the crowd to stand right in front of her. He probably hadn’t noticed her clinging to Tony, which is why he came forward, a big goofy grin playing on his handsome face, sending her heart into a frenzy, his blue eyes shining under the gleaming lights.

“Uh, h-hey Harry.” She grimaced, elongating his name with a chuckle. Shuffling forward, she ignored Tony’s raised eyebrows, opening her mouth to speak, but all she could look at was Harry Fucking Osborn standing in front of her, “Um, small world?”

Her words sounded distant to her, heart heart a lump in her throat. She felt underprepared for these situations. Sure, they had broken off on a semi- good note, but it didn’t make whatever this was any less awkward.

“Small world indeed.” He said, much softer than before, a solemn expression taking over his face, “It’s not every day you get to meet Penelope Parker in a Stark Gala. Heard of your internship by the way, I knew you were smart enough to get it.”

“Oh, thanks about that. I guess you’re an unwilling guest here? Haven’t seen Mr. Osborn around.” She smiled shyly, shuffling on her feet.

“Yeah, kind of, I mean you know how he is.” He shrugged.

“How long have you two known each other?” Tony interrupts the two, watching in amusement as both his pseudo daughter and Norman’s son blush under his gaze, as if just noticing his presence.

“Uhm, Hi Mister Stark! B-big fan, hi oh my god Penny I’m standing in front of Tony Stark.” Harry stuttered, shaking Tony’s hand for a little too long.

Staring at him with confusion, he shook Harry's hand back, silently asking Penny the lingering question.

“He’s a bit of a fanboy.” She answered.

Harry was still looking at Stark with his wonderstruck expression.

“Well it’s always good to meet my fans, but you didn't answer my question, kid. How do you two know each other?” Tony said, smiling as politely as he could while his hand was still stuck in Harry’s grip.

Realising that, he instantly let go, standing awkwardly as him and Penny said at the same time-

“I’m her ex boyfriend-”

“He’s my best friend.”

His eyes widen, realising what he had just said.

“You guys dated? And when were you going to tell me about that Pen?” Tony asked, baffled at the thought of Penny dating a guy, and Osborn’s son of all people.

“Well, you see, I was going to tell you soon, but then we broke up. You know? We haven’t talked since.” Penny said, the last sentence directed towards Harry. She was looking at him now, gritting her teeth.

“Well did you expect me to call you after you dumped me? During prom nonetheless? I was ashamed, Pen, I couldn’t do it.” Harry said, looking apologetic. It made her heart clench, inherent guilt building up in her tummy. It was her fault, technically.

“Yeah but, Harry you were my best friend before my boyfriend, and I missed you okay? You could’ve at least called.” She defended. Tony was good at reading the room, so sensing a banter building, he quietly left the area, not wanting to witness the misunderstanding.

“I really missed you too Penny, I- I didn’t think I was good enough for you, gosh I really fucking love you.” He said, immediately stiffening.

Even back when they were dating, they had never said the L word to each other, not even when they were best friends, and now? Well he had just made the air more thicker than before.

“You- you what?” She asked, voice small as her heart jumped. She moved closer to him, holding her hands out, reaching to touch his shoulders. Her hands set on his silky tuxedo, she stroked her hands in a slow motion, dropping them immediately when she realised she was touching him.

“I really fucking love you Penny, even if you don’t want to get together, can we still be friends? Go back to our movie nights and lego sessions?” He asked, furrowing his brows as if to keep himself from crying.

No words left her mouth, her breath hitched when he moved forward, chest stuttering. With a sudden confidence she didn’t know she had, she leapt forward, capturing his lips in hers. Their lips moved with a sync, his familiar ocean scented deo invading her nostrils, his soft skin against her. The world around her melded in a technicolour blob, the only thing she could focus was his heartbeat echoing in her ears.

“I really fucking love you too by the way.” She said, pulling away from the kiss. She vaguely spotted Miss Potts in her periphery, shaking her head with a smile as she held back Mister Stark.

“So, are we friends then?”

“Harry?”

“Yeah?”

“We are more than friends, you dumbass. We always have been.”

I’m a thirsty bitch, pwease give me feedback? 🥺🥺

#peter parker x harry osborn #harry osborn x peter parker x reader #harry osborn #female peter parker #female peter parker x harry osborn #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker fluff #peter parker smut #tony stark #spiderman #spider woman #spideygirl writes

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a-edgar-allan-hoe · 4 years ago

Text

The Red Witch

Jasper Hale x Reader Part 5

A/N: Part 5 is here my lovelies! Bon apetit! Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list. 💕

Summary: Imagine being an immortal witch from the Middle Ages and being the previous love of Jasper before he was turned. You two were separated under certain circumstances and cross each other’s path once again, years later in the present era.

Warnings: Language

Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3 , Part 4

It was the year 1862. You were sitting in the private carriage of the train that early morning, on the route to Houston. This was your first time in America and you couldn’t help the excitement in you as stared out the window at the vast lands before you. Unbeknownst to Charlotte and some others, you were a countess at the time, in courtesy of your father, Count Balthazar, who was long dead. But you tried to keep your family history as confidential as possible, considering your father was a sorcerer and your mother a witch. When you grew into a young woman, you left your family castle and went your own way, leaving behind everything that reminded you of your cruel father and donated all his wealth to charity. As for your mother, she was a beautiful sea witch. After the death of your father, she was able to gain her freedom and now lives happily in a humble cottage on the coast of Scotland, close to her beloved sea, and married to the local clocksmith who loves her more than your father ever could.

The reason you were traveling to Houston was because you were recently invited out here to preform at the local theatre for charity, to which which all the funds would go towards the families affected by the war. You were a known opera singer at the time and people fell in love with your clear and soft voice that held all the emotion and sadness behind it which was beautiful to their ears. You were also quite an exceptional pianist. It originally started out as a hobby, something you decided to test the waters with, but you didn’t know it would grow into something serious, eventually venturing you out into having a strong passion for the arts like singing, acting, and even painting. When your father was around, you were never able to pursue such things. He believed they were nonsense, a complete and utter waste of time. While these activities were useless to him, they were your whole heart and soul for you. You breathed for the arts. You guess you had your mother to thank for that, she used to sing you a lullaby every night when you were a child to calm your nerves because of the visions you would have. Thankfully, those visions ceased to happen as you got older.

The gentle rocking and sound of the train had lulled you to sleep as you currently had your head leaned against the window and your feet thrown up on the seat of the train. Your hair was tied up in a bun with a peridot green ribbon while a few loose pesky strands fell about your face. A leather bound Wuthering Heights book was tucked neatly in your hands on your lap. You were wearing a simple grey long sleeved gingham linen dress with delicate black lace trim at the sleeves and your collar. A peridot green velvet ribbon was tied around your waist, your neckline sat at the bottom of your neck and covered your collarbone, and a few black buttons ran down the front of your bodice.

Your dear friend at the time was sitting across from you with her fiancé. Her name was Charlotte Griffiths, the daughter of a governor. And though she was mortal, you absolutely adored her, for she took you in when you nearly did not have a home and cared for you as if you were her own sister. Then again, you always adored mortals. This was before you had known Melanie whom you had only met in the 60s. Charlotte’s fiancé was Lord Ernest Thompson, the owner of a estate and a businessman. He was a kind, charitable, and respectable young man, and you thought he was the perfect match for Charlotte. They both were kind and gentle souls.

“Isn’t this exciting (Y/N)?” Charlotte squealed, waking you from your nap.

“Hm?” You opened your sleepy eyes to look at a blur of what most likely was your friend. “Oh of course.” You yawned, giving yourself a minute to adjust your eyes and mind to reality. “Technically you’re the one who begged me to accept the invitation for performing here and practically dragged me along.” You smirked.

“Oh admit it. I saw your face light up when you received that invitation. Anyways, isn’t this a wonderful little adventure for us? You’ve told me how much you liked to travel.”

“Well I wouldn’t quite call a civil war a wonderful little adventure.” You snarked lightheartedly, letting out a scoff before starting to dwell upon what sort of mess you’ve just gotten into.

“My god woman.” Ernest chuckled playfully, lifting his eyes from the newspaper he was reading, his glasses sitting at the bridge of his nose as he glanced at Charlotte. “Can’t you see (Y/N) was asleep?”

“Well I....I’m merely excited my love.”

“Merely?” He raised a brow.

“Oh you’re being harsh on her Ernest.” You joked along, smiling to yourself as the lovers started to lightly quarrel.

You stared out the window again, watching the scenery blur past. You have seen many lands in your time, how they have changed over the course of years, how some have come and vanished to dust. You have seen kings rise and fall. But you haven’t been here, to America. This was all foreign to you.

The train finally came to a stop at the train station and you quickly grabbed your things, desperate to get out and stretch your legs. You hastily threw on your matching bonnet, not caring that it sat crooked on your head. You rushed towards the door and hitched up your skirt, struggling with the petticoat and making sure not to go past the ankles of your boots and expose your stockings or else Charlotte would have a heart attack. You grabbed the handle and stepped down from the train and onto the wooden platform as Charlotte and Ernest followed suit.

Right when you stepped out you could feel the hot and thick damp air surround you, and you couldn’t help but bring out your fan and fan yourself vicariously.

“My goodness it’s muggy. It’s like the devil’s bollocks out here.” You breathed out.

“(Y/N)!” Charlotte exclaimed, smacking you gently with her fan. “Mind your manners!”

“Sorry.”

“You forgot your parasol by the way.”

“Oh. Right.” You took your parasol from her hands and opened it up, putting your fan away. “Wouldn’t want to forget my complexion guardian.”

You were so used to London weather, now you had to get used to this, and your corset was not helping either.

“Would you look at that Charlotte. The sun.” You made a point to her, only making her shake her head.

Once you were all settled and had your things you all headed to the nearest bed and breakfast and checked into your rooms. You and Charlotte shared one while Ernest had his own. You had just set your belongings inside before Charlotte decided now would be a good time to go to the local tea house, despite your slight dismay as you would much rather be taking a nap. You were sitting out on the tables in front of the local tea house, your head propped up by your hand and a cup of tea in your other, while chatting with Charlotte as you watched the local people pass by.

“My goodness. This heat, it’s nearly disgusting.” Charlotte fanned herself as she wiped her forehead.

“I’m sweating in places I didn’t know I had. I might as well be stripping myself bare to the bone.” You added, fanning yourself with your hand.

“I told you to wear a crinoline.”

“What? Those ghastly looking cages for your legs? Never.”

You stared off into the distance in a sort of dazed state, thinking about your comfortable bed back home, and your collection of books you left behind. You were also starting to miss your mother, wishing you were in Scotland watching the waves with her, before noticing that Charlotte had gone awfully quiet.

“What’s gotten into you?” You asked her, seeing her stare at something behind you. “Charlotte?”

“My my, I think you have an admirer.” She giggled, her youthful face lit up with giddiness as she tried to contain her laughter.

“What on earth are you babbling about?” You turned to follow her gaze and saw a tall stranger wearing a military uniform staring in your direction. You straightened up in your chair, your face firm as you started to feel yourself get anxious. You were silently hoping he wouldn’t come over to your table to strike up a conversation.

“Oh! He’s a rather fine looking gentleman I must say. Annnd he’s an officer.” Charlotte was now leaning in to whisper noticeably in your ear. You can practically hear her next you, trying so hard to contain her giggles.

“You’ve gone daft Charlotte. He’s obviously fancying you. You’re the pretty one.” You turned back around, completely disinterested.

“I think not! You know I’m engaged!”

“And how would he know that detail? Hm? A man who sees a pretty woman without any knowledge as to who she is, is most likely to approach her, without any assumption as to whether she is engaged or not. To which he’ll find out sooner or later I must add.” You ran on before taking a sip of your tea.

“Oh come now (Y/N). You know I wouldn’t.”

“I don’t know, you seem to be a little too excited upon seeing other men. I don’t hear you speak of Ernest as such, as I might recall, a rather fine looking gentleman.”

“You know I love my dear Ernest more than anything. I’m just trying to find you a suitor.”

“I honestly wish you wouldn’t.” You sighed inaudibly. “What I’m trying to say is, that gentleman over there does not know that. So just.....oh bloody hell. I don’t know. Just be prepared to decline his advances towards you.”

“You lack faith my dear.” She gave you a pitiful look before looking behind you once more. “Oh look! He’s coming this way!”

“He’s what?! Charlotte!” You hiss as you lightly slap your hands down on the table as to not draw attention. “Don’t just invite him over.”

“Ladies.” You heard the man now standing beside you as he took off his hat and lowered his head in a polite greeting.

You had gotten so nervous in the mere matter of a minute that you couldn’t stop yourself from letting out the next word that slipped your tongue. “Fuck.”

There was a brief silence as Charlotte and the stranger stared at you in utter disbelief at what a proper lady like you had just uttered. A few others who sat at the other tables near you in earshot stared at you in displeasure before looking away.

Oh just wonderful. You wanted the world to eat you alive right there so you could escape their peers.

You locked eyes with the officer for a brief moment before turning away and fixing your gaze on something else, doing your best to seem preoccupied. You wished you brought your book with you so you could bury your face in it.

Charlotte let out an uneasy laugh befor turning to the man. “Well hello officer! I’m Charlotte Griffiths.” You caught your friend extending her gloved hand out to him, to which he kissed lightly.

“Pleasure to meet you.” You heard him say in this thick southern accent you were definitely not accustomed to.

“This young lady here is my dear friend (Y/N) (Y/L/N).”

“Charlotte. Stop this instance.” You leaned closer to her only for her to hear.

You were starting to feel embarrassed more than anything.

“Ma’am.” He now turned to you, to which you gave a short reply without making any eye contact.

“Good day.”

“You know (Y/N) here has come to preform for the opera tomorrow night. You should come!”

Charlotte you did not just.

You sat there with your arms folded and glared at her. She loved getting you into these predicaments, innocently enough. If only she knew how much it bothered you.

“Really?” He turned to you now, smiling. “I thought I heard that name somewhere.”

“Oh, well she’s only one of the best sopranos in England.”

“Ehem. Charlotte that’s quite enough. Thank you.”

You almost felt ridiculed at the moment as you felt the stares of everyone around you weighing in on you. And then that sensation started to creep on you. The same one you felt when you were a child. You glanced around, seeing and hearing the blood flowing through everyone’s veins and their hearts beating in their chests, glowing like a red ruby. You squeezed your eyes shut and pinched the bridge of your nose, silently muttering to yourself and remembering the meditation your mother taught you. Earth, fire, water, air, and spirit. You glanced up from underneath your bonnet as the sensation died down and you could finally hear Charlotte calling out your name.

“(Y/N). Are you alright?” Charlotte was reaching out a hand to clasp your gloved one, gently shaking them.

“I’m fine.” You breathed out while rubbing your temple. “It’s just a migraine.”

“Do you need anything for it?” Charlotte questioned you.

“No. God no. I don’t need any of that poison.” You got up from your seat and dusted yourself off before grabbing your parasol. “I’m going to head back to the inn if you don’t mind Charlotte.”

“Do you want me to walk you back?” The officer asked you, his voice laced with concern as he took a step towards you.

You took a step back away from him in response, still avoiding his eyes. “No. I’m quite alright. I’m pretty sure I can walk back to the inn without any assistance thank you.”

“Good day.” You nodded your head at him before turning away and heading back to the inn.

The officer was the most surprised at this situation if anything. He never received this sort of reaction before. Growing up, he always appeared to have a way with words and an influence over people, they always seemed to like him. His father called it charisma. And yet here you were, this woman he had barely just met, and you didn’t have the slightest sway from him. He was a bit perplexed at this, since he was now the one that was drawn to you.

You on the other hand, you found him to be rather bold. This had happened plenty of times before. Charlotte would bring over someone to introduce to you and it always ended up with you turning them down since everyone of them had been a cocky arrogant arshehole. But the one thing you didn’t want to admit to yourself was you were scared of falling in love. The last time you did, it didn’t end well. Ever since then, you tried to keep your distance and your emotions locked up. After all those years of isolation, you eventually led yourself to believe your curse made you incapable of love.

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#jasper hale #jasper hale imagine #jasper hale x reader #jasper hale x y/n #jasper hale x you #jasper whitlock #jasper whitlock imagine #twilight imagine #twilight imagines #jasper whitlock x reader

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botwstoriesandsuch · 4 years ago

Text

Heya!! Kip here! The @memorabiliazine preorders have just shipped, which means we can share our pieces now! I wrote this piece back in February, after theorizing about the presence of Robbie's Telescope being present in the Royal Tech Lab in Age of Calamity. So without further a do, here be my little essay/fic on some old ruins, or more specifically, its:

Cause of Destruction

The storm had come too late. Thankfully, it was all devastated.

She continued to run from the screaming.

The Sheikah woman headed for the hills, brittle trees littering the eastern side of the Lindor mountain side. If she hurried, she could meet up with the others who had—

A distant crack of thunder melded with the collapse of stone; she makes the mistake of glancing back.

In the greater horizon, the shadow of Hyrule Castle looms over a conquered dusk. A shrill cry—something between a roar and a whine—escapes from the cloudy malice beast that enshrouds the Hylian monument. But that was just the backdrop, the canvas for contrast. Closer still, in the billowing grass of North Hyrule Plain, the stormy winds cut through fog and smoke like a dagger.

In the opened wound, the faint silhouette of a building glows.

Blue.

She keeps running.

The color might have at one point been appealing—the symbol of the Royals, the pleasant hue that cloaked a perfect morning. But tonight it just haunted her...chased her...reminded her of the terrible deed that was done.

A horse came over the hills.

“HEY!” a man shouted, mounted on a grey horse. “MA’AM! HALT, PLEASE!”

Crap. She sucked in a breath through her teeth, clutched her limp, burned arm, and kept moving. I just need to reach the trees.

But the chase seemed over before it had even started. When she had first started running from the blue, some wandering captain had stopped her to ask what was wrong. There was a strange kindness in his striking eyes, a forgein concept in this land now stricken with grief, death, and paranoia. In her haste—and possibly shame of what she had done—she had just pushed the captain away and fled. Very inconspicuous…good job me.

Now it seems he had found her again. Any other day she might have commended him for his kindness in checking with some random Sheikah, during the end of the world no less.

But tonight, well...there’s a sliver of her that might have preferred death.

The woman tripped on a divet in the earth, crashing down on one of her badly burned legs, and hissed at the pain. The rain had muddied the path, and was staining her once white clothes a disgusting marron. The pounding of hooves grew closer, until they halted right next to her ears.

A pair of leather boots crashed into the mud.

“Ma’am, don’t get up. You’re injured. Please.”

The clang of metal armour accompanies the voice. Oh he was a captain alright, equipped well for the apocalypse. His metalspear and armour adorned in—

She looks up.

Blue.

A slight frown.

The man tries to help her to her feet, watching to not clutch on the wounds on her right side. “Whatcha doing all the way out here? The nearest settlement is a ways away.” The captain lifts up one of her arms, and his eyes widen just a bit. “Dammit...those burns look bad. We might getcha some aid...there’s a laboratory place nearby that I’m heading by, just due east and—”

“...Lab?” The woman can’t help but wonder aloud. No...you idiot, you can’t be serious.

The captain smiles again. “See now, that’s why I was so eager to catch your attention. You’re running in the wrong direction.” He points in the direction she was running towards. “Up where you’re going is just mountains. There’s a fancy smancy lab a bit south that could help patch you up better than—”

“If you head to that lab, you’ll die.” She lets the words linger for a moment. “Unless, of course, that was the desired plan for the evening.” The woman laughs to herself, but the sound is empty and dry.

He frowns. “...What?”

She’s silent, gears turning in her head. Goddess...how do I say this without—

She points east, the rain pattering on her outstretched sleeve. “Tell me, Captain. What do you see over there?”

The man pauses, his face contort with confusion. He follows her hand and stares at the blue.

“...North Hyrule Plain. Some building glowing blue over there…I’m assuming that’s the techno-wizz from the L—”

“Lab, yes. That would be the Royal Ancient Lab. Though I’m afraid it’s not glowing from ‘techno-wizz’ or anything of that sort, dear captain.”

She crosses her arms, turning to look away from the blue and hugging her knees. “It’s currently burning to the ground.”

An ugly pause, as the man seems to take a moment to digest this. He flickers his gaze between the Sheikah and the distant blue building.

“I-It’s...It’s raining though—”

“Blue flame, I’m afraid, is a bit more resistant. Plus, it’s been burning long before the storm came through.”

“What...I…” The captain sits next to her, plopping into the mud in disbelief. “I was really thinking that...why would…”

He turns to her, his eyes are stormy grey, with faint specks of blue, like embers. The captain’s tone is gravely serious. “Miss, why was that lab destroyed?”

The question catches her off guard. Her jaw’s clenched, but she breaks their staring contest and hides her surprise with a shrug. “Same reason as every other disaster today. Calamity Ganon destroyed it.”

There’s a crack of thunder, and the ground shudders at her lie.

“...No.” the man mumbles.

“Look, I know it’s a lot to process—”

“No, I mean,” he stands, hand reaching for his back, “that’s not what actually happened, is it ma’am?”

Crap. The Sheikah holds her hands in the air. “If this is about me shoving you earlier, I was just a bit—”

“Aw now don’tcha worry about that, I took no personal offense.” He scratches the blond stubble on his chin.

“Now the thing that I do find some mighty fine offense to, is the fact that there’s a good lick of a chance that I’m currently speaking to an arsonist traitor.”

There’s a BOOM, and in the distance, another large piece of the Royal Lab collapses into the earth. The blue grows brighter.

“Me? What in the name of Hylia are you—”

“Let’s not play dumb, ma’am. Trust me, I’m a sucker for some pleasantries and small talk, though I’m afraid addressing the fact that you burned down the nearest safe haven for miles is gonna take priority here.”

The Sheikah woman just fumes, attempting to get up in the captain’s face. “How DARE you accuse me of—”

She’s cut off by the shing of metal cutting through air. The captain twirls the spear on his back and points the end right at her neck, resting just below her chin. She scowls, but puts her hands in the air.

“You just don’t understan—”

“That’s a mighty fine torch you got there…” He clicks his tongue.

Both hands grip his spear steady, ready to pierce flesh at any moment. The captain gestures with a wink to the torch attached to her waist. It seems to still smolder slightly with faint blue embers.

The captain looks between the torch, and the blue fire in the horizon.

“Yes, a mighty fine torch indeed.” He presses the spear tip a bit further forward.

“And it’s glowing a familiar color.”

Cause of Destruction

An Analysis of the Destruction of the Royal Ancient Lab

By Dr. J Kippers

(But please, Kippers was my father, call me Kip)

So heroes are a thing, huh? Who’da thunk it! One minute, I’m continuing my travels, studying some cool rocks and bricks in Hyrule Field. Then the next, a giant malice pig appears and fights some teenage boy wielding a glowing stick. I definitely wasn’t cowering behind the ruins of a garrison bathroom while that all happened, and I definitely was doing some cool badass fighting moves with my...pen, to help that knight and save the world and stuff. Makes for a pretty cool story, yeah? HA, Traysi would kill for it…

But enough of my daring, slightly exaggerated, exploits. It’s been a few weeks since the world’s settled down from the Calamity’s defeat, which means I had prime time to settle back into my hometown, and put my years of travel and research to paper!

I spent the majority of my life studying the history of Hyrule as it fell to the Calamity 100 years ago...and with the world now revitalizing, it’s just prime time to get myself out there! Research wise, that is!

At first, I didn’t really know what to write, cause WOW there’s just so many topics to choose from. Plus there’s a lot on the line here, gotta make a good impression for whatever new kingdom that Princess Zelda’s got planned. She seems the scholarly type, yeah? I’m thinking I could snag some Hyrule history teach’ position at a rebuilt university or something… Princess has got an awful lot of focus on the reconstruction of different village ruins. Which is fair, cause who better to know how to rebuild these places than the people who were alive to see them in their prime!

And you see, that’s where my journey of knowledge began! People with first hand knowledge of the events of distant past are alive? OH a historian’s dream…my soul swells in happiness. Plus, I also got my researcher brain a-tingling. My dad’s friend’s cousin’s neighbor’s grandma’s dog’s breeder knew Dr. Robbie back in the day, so Sheikah tech is basically in my blood.

With these passions rejuvenated I had my goal! Publish some revolutionary new theory that combined my awesome knowledge for history, archeology, and tech! And what better place to see that than, (duh) the Royal Ancient Lab Ruins.

Now, there doesn’t seem to be much in these ruins…it’s absolutely barren. No weapons or treasures to be seen. Just your run-of-the-mill ruined ruins, destroyed long ago by the Calamity. And that was the end of the story.

At least that’s what I thought until I did a little more digging. See, as I was doing some additional research, I stumbled upon this old history/research book stored in the Kakariko archive. I have no idea where it came from...it’s titled...C-Caa...Creation? Creating? Creating a...Cham...it’s kinda faded and hard to read. But anyhow, this weird little history book was written by some guy named “Nine-tendons.” If someone out there has a copy feel free to hit me up, but for today’s sake title and author don’t really matter. The point is, one of the quotes in that book describes the ruins like this:

Royal Ancient Lab Ruins

It is thought that these ruins represent the ancient relic research facility that was under the direct rule of Hyrule Castle, but only the outer walls remain. There is no trace of the building’s interior, let alone any research materials.

The thoroughness of its destruction feels intentional. [Page 396, Cr_ating a Champ___, Nint__do.]

Now I’m not too familiar with the work of whoever Mr. Nin-Ten-doves is, but I strangely trust their word on the topic wholeheartedly. Call it a feeling from the divine if you must, but they’re right! It seems so much more obvious in hindsight.

My adventures into the other various ruins across Hyrule always gave me something to work with. The world is just crafted for exploration. Old treasure chests, weird rocks with a tiny talking tree fairy underneath. Hell, even a monster or two was always happy to inhabit even the smallest of ruins I’ve entered. Yet, there is absolutely nothing of prominence to be seen at the ruins of the Royal Ancient Lab. And I’ve double, triple, and quintuple-checked!

Why are there no rusted weapons...or treasures...or any records or evidence of anything, other than some crude stone walls and a rock? That kind of destruction is just unnecessarily absolute, even for the Calamity.

According to detailed drawings/notes I have in my records of Historical Works during the Age of Calamity (HW AOC for short), the Royal Ancient Lab was nearly three stories tall, with a royal blue ceiling, complete with a basement level, and an upper telescope! With even the smallest of structures (like simple ranch and village ruins) still standing today with plenty of artifacts, why is as great a structure as the Royal Lab so desolate?

Intentional, intentional, intentional...that word ran through my head for days, weeks, months even. Why would the Royal Ancient Lab be destroyed intentionally? Did the Calamity see it as that major a threat? No, that wouldn’t make sense, the movements of Calamity Ganon that day clearly show his intention to use the Sheikah power against the people of Hyrule. An Ancient Lab would be a major benefit, if anything…

So, surprising as it may be, the current prime suspect for the destruction of this lab would actually be…

The Sheikah just glares. “Well...what gave it away?

He shrugged his shoulders with a half smile. “Deductive reasoning, with a hint of some good ol’ luck perhaps.”

“Listen, I know this looks bad, but you have to understand—”

“Oh I understand quite well alright.” The captain gives a wink. “I try to be humble, but Mama always did say I was the smartest cookie she knew.”

He rests the end of his spear on her collarbone, the threat clearly still present, but it gives him the freedom to pace and wipe rain for his soaked blonde hair.

“See I know that Calamity Ganon’s corrupted every bit of Sheikah tech from here to Lurelin. I know that he’s been targeting Hylian settlements. ‘Seen it myself when some monsters and Guardians destroyed my regiment and post at Maritta Exchange, just a bit north from here. I know that the only reason the other settlements, like the Rito and Zora, are still standing is because Ganon’s focusing all his forces on finding and killing the Hylian Champion and the princess. And finally I know that because of that, there is not a Guardian or monster around for many a mile. I mean, just lookie over there.”

The woman turns her head, and sure enough, the plains are barren of all life. No movement of machine or beast or person.

“And now my assumption was—and do pardon me if my monologue is redundant to your traitor ears—that the nearest place of safety would be this royal laboratory of technology. It’s Sheikah run, so it wouldn’t be immediately targeted. Plus the last thing the Calamity would want is for his personal army of destruction to be...well, destroyed. Ifs I was them evil cloud demon thing, I woulda wanted the lab with all my corrupted techno babble soldiers to be kept in peak condition. However…”

The captain turns to the right, staring at the blazing blue building in the distance. “...That does not seem to be the case.”

The Sheikah opens her mouth to speak, but he holds up the spear again. “Now I’m thinking, the only reason someone would go about destroying that lab, would perhaps be to kill some people, no?”

“We didn’t—”

“Getting rid of the people who could possibly reverse the Guardian corruption...now I suppose that might be a good evil plan.”

“It was for the be—”

“Ma’am I’m all about looking on the bright side of things, but,” the captain flicks his head in the direction of the blue, “This ain’t exactly the light a’ hope I was wanting.”

“Maybe not, but—”

“So,who are ya? Yiga?”

“No, it’s—”

“Solo treason then. You getting revenge on someone ‘round here? A noble? The King? Or perhaps you’re just the sadistic type with the whole—”

“NO!”

The outburst surprises the both of them, and he hold the spear to ner neck firmly. Another crack of thunder reminds them of the silence that’s endured. The Sheikah finally sighs.

“Perhaps by definition I am an arsonist and a traitor, but for one thing, I wasn’t alone.”

The man’s eyes shine curiously, but she continues.

“I will gladly die alongside them, as my actions have only been for the benefit of Hyrule.”

The rain’s tempo quickens as she gets on her feet, but the captain doesn’t strike. She stares him down, eyes hidden behind strands of white hair.

“My name is Atsuko, a devoted researcher at the Royal Lab, and you may kill me if you think it just.”

Ok, now I know what you’re all thinking. You’re thinking “Kip! Why are you writing this official research paper like some drunken bar rant? How the hell are you gonna get noticed at this rate?” or “Kip! The hell are you thinking?? Sheikah destroying the Ancient Lab makes absolutely no sense?!”

So to that I say, firstly, uhhh you’re welcome for not being a boring posh, snobby lecturer.(Learned to value a personality over fancy words; lessons my granddad).

As for the latter, you are quite wrong my dear friend, quite wrong indeed. It makes an absolute butt-load of sense, and I’m gonna prove it was them, here and now! I mean that’s...kinda the whole point of an essay, yeah?

My fellow archeology, history, and tech lovers, not only do I know who is responsible for the Royal Lab’s destruction, but I know the true reason why and how! Let us start at the beginning!

What exactly is the lab, and what was its purpose? Well, as the name implies, it was a Sheikah-run laboratory under the hand of the royal family that researched and experimented with Ancient technology. Again, looking at references in HW AOC, I can place not only Guardian models and Ancient weaponry at the lab, but also the existence of blue flame lamps that seemingly powered the facility.

As we all know, it’s tough to mess around with Ancient parts without blue flame, which is the prime energy source for the Ancient Sheikah. Such are the existence of today’s Hateno and Akkala tech labs, located near blue flame furnaces. However! This brings into question exactly why the Royal Lab was constructed where it was…

There are only three places in all of Hyrule with natural blue flame deposits, or otherwise called “Ancient Furnaces.” That would be in Hateno, Akkala, and within Hyrule Castle itself. So why is the Royal Tech Lab so far from these Ancient Furnaces?

To answer this question, might I direct your attention towards explosions. That’s right folks, I’m talking bombs! (Please take this moment to imagine me creating an accompanying explosive sound effect with my mouth)

Some time ago, as I was analyzing the blue flame lamps in Deep Akkala, I ran into that hero of legend face to face! Nice guy, quiet and charming type. Smelled strangely like apples and burnt guts.

Long story short, I traded my entire supply of Hot-Footed Frogs and arrows for a chance to mess with his Sheikah Slate for a bit.

So during that brief period of research, I discovered that while Sheikah tech is usually well controlled—with bomb runes only going off on command by the push of a button—there is an exception! Bomb runes instantly react with blue flame, just one touch and they’ll instantly explode! Try it out yourself! Er, well. Ok, maybe not. Don’t do that, legally I’m not responsible. Plus, it’s not like any of you folk out there have access to bomb runes or a Sheikah Slate that you can play around and test it out for yourself like it’s some virtual game that you can switch around in your hands.

Bomb runes are giant bundles of compact Sheikah tech. When in contact with a pure blue flame, they go boom. The process with the Sheikah Slate must simplify this process with a remote button, but as I’ve discovered, the process can be hastened by chucking a torch around.

I call this phenomenon of blue flame reacting destructively with Sheikah technology a “blue combustion!” I’m creative, I know.

I imagine, any experimentation with weapons that harness, compress, or just generally mess with Sheikah tech and lasers, must be conducted in an environment that prevents blue combustion. You don’t want pure blue flame touching stuff. Otherwise you go kaboom.

Now I couldn’t get a hold of Dr. Robbie or Director Purah myself, something about how they “don’t know who the heck” I am, and “you’re trespassing please get off it’s private property,” or something of the sort, I’m not really sure. But even without their testimonies, you’ll notice that their large tech labs are constructed a distance away from the actual Ancient Furnace. They aren’t right beside it. If they were, you risk losing a limb to a blue combustion. That is also why blue flame lamps exist: to stagger the distance between the flames. And thus is why the Royal Lab isn’t nearby an Ancient Furnace.

Yet even so, the distance the Royal Lab has from an Ancient Furnace might still stump you, because even compared to the Akkala and Hateno labs, it is very very far. But here’s the kicker, my dear curious readers and poor editor, the reason for this extreme distance is because during its prime, the Royal Ancient Lab housed a large portion of the Guardian army and weaponry. It needed more distance because its contents accumulated a much larger space. I can prove this not only by descriptions shown in HW AOC, but also by notes/drawings shown in the archive called the Backgrounds of Technological Wonders, or BOTW for short.

Both these sources show that while Guardians were tested and stationed in Hyrule Castle, the number of Guardians at the castle was probably only in the one hundred mark or less. Now that may seem like a lot, but remember, hundreds of Guardians were dug up, as especially shown in the famous Sheikah tapestry of 10,000 years ago. Arguably even thousands, considering that tapestry is a simplification.

So if we can only account for only a portion of the Guardian population at Hyrule Castle, where are the rest? Scattered across different garrisons perhaps, sure. But they’d mainly be in the facility where each of the Guardians were constructed and given power, the place full of the most talented Sheikah researchers, a location that would still be in decent proximity, but still a safe distance from the castle should an emergency arise: the Royal Ancient Tech Lab. That’s where most of Guardians are.

Now, why is this important? Why did I just spend a few paragraphs talking about blue flames and Guardians and locations when this is about the lab’s destruction and demise?

It’s because this is my sure fire way to prove to you that the Calamity did not destroy the Royal Lab.

The Royal Ancient Lab was constructed specifically to create the best Guardians and technology to beat the Calamity with.

It would have been constructed specifically to avoid any fatal blue combustion accidents.

And it sure as hell wouldn’t have been purposefully destroyed by the Calamity, the one entity who would benefit from its existence.

The lab was decimated by a blue combustion, no question. There isn’t anything as powerful as it that could destroy a place so completely. And now knowing the factors surrounding the lab itself, we know that if it was destroyed by a combustion, it was not because of an accident.

It could only have been done purposefully, by the only people who would know the Royal Lab’s weaknesses.

It could only have been brought down by the Sheikah researchers.

So now, the questions of exactly how and why remain.

The captain just stands and ponders.

“Ma’am, I must confess that I don’t find the science of the destruction nearly as interesting as exactly what made you decide to do it.”

“It’s like I said,” Atsuko clutches her burned arm, “It wasn’t just me. Really, now, you’re too kind to give me so much credit.”

The spear end moves closer to her neck. “Alright alright alright, sorry, pal. Look I have no idea if you’re even believing all this right now, but you have to trust me that our actions were of the best intentions.”

The captain smirks. “Do tell?”

According to BOTW, the Ancient Arrow was developed by Dr. Robbie as one of the most powerful means of combating the Calamity itself. In fact, according to research I’ve found in that CAC book by Mint-en-do, I can place the exact time for the development of this weapon, which I can use to glean information about it’s properties.

Ancient Arrow

Perhaps forty or fifty years after the day of the Great Calamity Robbie, the lead Guardian researcher, created the first weapon that was effective against the mechanical monsters: the ancient arrow... Flames come out from the burner like bit [of the Ancient Arrow] and form a blade. [Page 388 and 178, Cr_ating a Champ___, Nint__do.]

The arrow instantly vaporizes whatever it comes into contact with, tearing apart the subject by the molecule, and sending them to non-existence. The description of the weapon implies that it is the pure energy of a blue flame, and built quite differently than other Sheikah weapons.

And the difference definitely shows. I’ve handled a few of these puppies myself, and let me tell you, they get the job done. While an Ancient sword or axe will certainly do some damage, a single Ancient Arrow can take out a Guardian, or even a Lynel in one hit. I heard that they could even do major damage to Dark Beast Ganon itself!

Now, why do I bring this up? Because this Ancient Arrow proves that the Sheikah 100 years ago knew about the dangers of blue combustion.

An Ancient Arrow is clearly the result of intensive research into blue combustion, it is literally a pure blue flame on a stick pumped up with some Ancient Tech. It vaporizes whatever matter it touches and it ceases to exist.

Hmm...would be a fine explanation as to why the nearly three stories worth of stone and ceiling in the Royal Lab no longer can be found.

And why wasn’t the Ancient Arrow developed sooner? It’s because no one thought to purposefully cause an event that would destroy everything until they were forced to on the actual day of the Calamity. It’s because it took even the most brilliant of scientists half a century to even contain a feat of destruction into a single arrowtip? Yes...when you lay out the facts like that, it seems to make sense on the timeline.

Ah, but I’m getting ahead of myself. Back to the question of “why?” Let me rewind to an earlier point. Where are the thousands of Guardians in Hyrule?

Yes, a good hundred or so could be found in Hyrule Castle, and the majority were in the Royal Ancient Lab. But today, where are they? Records in BOTW cite only 157 Guardian remains in all of Hyrule. 157. How? That’s impossible. Witnesses and notes in HW AOC prove that much, much more existed. And what’s more is that we know that the majority of those Guardians were at the Royal Lab, but there are no Guardians, active or otherwise, to be found there. There is nothing.

It’s almost as if all those Guardians were vaporized, they ceased to exist one day.

And you know what.

They did.

(Please take this time to imagine me winking)

There’s some theme or metaphor here about the Royal Ancient Lab, constructed in the blues of the Royal family, ironically being destroyed by the blue combustion—but what do I look like, a writer? Find your own secret to life, here’s the blunt of it.

The Sheikah knew about the dangers a blue combustion could do, but on the day of the Calamity, they used that knowledge for the better. Seeing the corrupted Guardians in the distant castle, it is my belief that the researchers there purposefully brought the blue flames—that they had so carefully separated outside in the lanterns—in contact with Ancient Technology. Things not only went kaboom, but the actual matter ceased to exist. A giant Ancient Arrow.

Thousands of Guardians, hundreds of blades and weapons, and honestly, probably even lives, were gone in an instant. The only remains of the carnage would be the aftermath of blue flames that spread across the remains of the outer walls.

The Sheikah did this because it would save the most lives. That’s hundreds and thousands of Guardians and machines that wouldn’t fall into Ganon’s clutches, hundreds of souls saved. Did you know that today Hyrule Ridge, the home of the Royal Lab, has zero Guardians? Did you know that the lands near it, Hebra and Tabantha, have the lowest Guardian sightings in all of Hyrule? Even less than the Gerudo Desert. And I cite this all based on my hours of research and facts laid out by BOTW, HW AOC, and the divine work by Mr. Nin-ten-do

But even beyond that, how do I know, in absolute 600% certainty that the Sheikah were in complete control of this destruction? How am I so sure that the Sheikah that day had fully planned the intentional obliviation of their lab?

It’s because...I lied earlier.

There is actually one relic that survived. One little monument of the Royal Ancient Lab Ruins. One object giving physical proof of this theory.

One artifact that would have been impossible to preserve if the Sheikah hadn’t planned it all. I mentioned it briefly before, if you paid attention. Yes! This object is present in both the Royal Lab, and a tech lab of today. You could see it for yourself, if you pay a visit to my dad’s friend’s cousin’s neighbor’s grandma’s dog’s breeder’s Sheikah researcher pal...

“Dr. Robbie’s telescope.” Atsuko pointed to the scattered trees in upper Lindor, “Some other scientists took it up there to preserve it. It’s the only reason we were able to see the initial Guardian corrupting in the distant castle, and how we were able to adapt to the situation and act so quickly.”

The captain glanced at the western mountain. “So you were running up there to meet with them?”

“The wilderness is pretty safe at the moment. And we’re hoping eventually we could take the telescope to another lab where we could possibly continue research. I mean just today from the combustion, Dr. Robbie had this idea for some fancy Sheikah dagger to kill Guardians.”

Silence.

“OK listen, that’s...that’s all I’ve got. You can head up there and confirm the story, or just kill me now, take your pick. Waiting for judgement here.”

More silence. The rain falls harder.

“...I’m—”

“You can call me Cian.” The captain does a little bow. “Captain Cian Kippers, at your leisure.”

Atsuko raises an eyebrow. “Like the color—?”

“Sp-Spelled differently! There’s an “i” in there, and perhaps it’s ironic to the situation, but I figured if we’re gonna be traveling up there together you should have the courtesy of knowing my name.”

She just sputters for a moment. “So...you—”

“I trust your heart—I like to think I’m good with character—and I believe you’re a good person doing your best in the world. As unfortunate as circumstances may have been.” He twirls his spear before fitting it on his back. Cian extends a hand to her which she takes. “People like that are getting rarer by the hour, so I don’t think I should be adding to the death count.”

“So…” she gets on her feet, cocking her head, “You...you believe me then?”

He chuckles. “Well, I didn’t kill you did I?”

Atsuko laughs quietly. “Your mistake…”

“...No.” Cian places a reassuring hand on her shoulder and smiles, as if to say that somehow everything was gonna be alright.

“My intention.”

#Memorabilia zine #botw zine #botw theory #botw fanfiction #botw #breath of the wild #legend of zelda botw #loz botw

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spencer-reid-in-a-pool · 4 years ago

Text

Three’s a Crowd

Summary: When Geralt leaves you and Jaskier behind to go hunt, you are pulled into spending the day in town with Jaskier. Fluff and mischief ensues.

Warnings: None!

Pairings: Jaskier x genderless reader *(see A/N)

Square Filled: Kissed to keep quiet

Word Count: 2,595

A/N: Here is my second submission for the 2021 Witcher Bingo! @thewitcherbingo While this is a genderless reader fic, there is a scene involving the reader with jewelry, so that could be seen as “feminine” if you really squint. Of course, boys and theys can wear jewelry too! Also, thank you to @toss-a-coin-to-your-stan-account for letting me use a hilarious phrase they came up with!

Tags: @ayyyyitswednesdaymydoods @blackjay04 @mxsmwndr @bravelittlesunflower @weaselbee04

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

Truth be told, I was glad when I realized Geralt had left without us. Were my feelings hurt? A little. But I forgot about it when I realized it meant I got to sleep in.

However, I was only a few minutes into my next bout of sleep when the door to my room came crashing open.

“(Y/N)!” the cause of the commotion yelled. Jaskier.

I didn’t even open my eyes. I should have known this would happen. Sleeping in? Never heard of it.

“What?” I snapped.

The door closed and I heard footsteps coming closer. Then all of a sudden, the covers were yanked off my body and I felt his rough hands shaking me.

“Geralt left without us! Can you believe him?”

My eyes shot open and I pulled the covers back over. But not before glaring at Jaskier, who looked genuinely concerned about the whole thing.

“Yes, actually, I can believe him. And I was trying to sleep in. Do you mind?”

Jaskier scoffed and took a few steps back, raising his hands in an apology.

“Fine, fine. I see that I am more worked up about it than you are. Although normally it is just me that you two tend to leave behind,” he said, a bit of a sad look gracing his features. But in a split second it was gone and replaced with a much happier one. A mischievous one. Oh no.

“Come on, let’s go find something to do! I cannot simply sit in this dusty old inn, wasting away as the hours go by,” said Jaskier as he fell onto the foot of my bed dramatically. “I am far too beautiful and talented for that.”

I sighed. “If I come with you, will you be quiet?”

“Absolutely not.”

Well, at least he was honest.

The town was far more active than I expected it to be at this time of day. I wonder what there was to do.

Currently, I trailed behind Jaskier through the groups of people crowding around the shops and stalls in the market. At least he was easy to spot with his lute strapped to his back.

“Jaskier,” I called to him. I didn’t think he would hear me, but he stopped and turned to look for me.

Once I caught up, I huffed and said, “Do you honestly carry that thing everywhere we go?”

He gave me a look as if to tell me I was insane.

“Of course! You never know when musical inspiration might strike.”

I rolled my eyes, but honestly it was one of my favorite things about him. His antics never failed to make me laugh.

“So do you have a plan for us, or are we to wander aimlessly through the town square?”

“Does this not suit you, my friend? Oh please, do tell me what sits so heavily on your heart!” Jaskier announced dramatically.

I laughed and he smiled back at me. How childish.

“Fine. I want to find some food. Lead the way, lute boy.”

Jaskier gasped indignantly. But there was a twinkle in his eye that let me know he was happy. We often played this type of game with each other. Feigning annoyance or being dramatic or something of the sort to make the other laugh. It was almost a contest, although there was never a clear winner. Simply spending time with the other was enough.

“Anything for Your Majesty,” Jaskier declared with a bow.

Eventually we came to a stall that looked to be selling sweets. The colors and textures of the food caught my eye from afar, and as soon as I saw it I grabbed the sleeve of Jaskier’s doublet to pull him over.

“Oi, this was very expensive you know. Try not to rip it, hmm?”

Ignoring his comment, I continued to pull him over until we were in front of it.

“Ohh, I see. Finally found something you’d like? I knew you would come around.”

I let go of his sleeve and he turned to the man selling the sweets.

“How much are your goods, fair merchant?”

While Jaskier talked to the man, I looked around at other stalls in the area. A jeweler’s stand caught my eye next. I knew anything over there would be too expensive, but I wanted to look anyway.

As I turned back to Jaskier, he had bought both of us a piece of candy from the man, and I took mine from him with a smile.

“Thank you, Jaskier. You didn’t have to pay for mine.”

He unwrapped his candy quickly, and glanced at me with that crooked smile that makes women and men alike weak in the knees.

“I wanted to. Now- where to next?”

My eyes betrayed my mind, settling on the jewelry that I knew would be too expensive to even consider purchasing.

Jaskier followed my gaze across the square to the bits and baubles I was focused on, and a forlorn look fell onto his face.

“Darling, I don’t mean to put a damper on things, but I can smell how expensive that place is all the way over here.”

I sighed and looked up at him.

“I know, but I just want to look. Can we, please?”

His face softened, and he gave me a small nod to signal it was okay. I didn’t even try to hide my happiness when I grabbed his hand and pulled him around the square for the second time today. Not once did he complain, which I felt very undeserving of.

I realized how large his hand was in mine, and I truly couldn’t remember if I had ever touched him in this way before. Of course, I had imagined it countless times. It felt nice.

I think that both of us knew we were crazy about the other. We were both just too scared to say anything. Or maybe we were just comfortable with the way things were, without a label.

Either way, I couldn’t suppress the tingling feeling in my fingers as I let go of his hand when we made it to our destination. And gods, it didn’t live up to any expectation I had formed in the past few minutes of wondering.

There were rows upon rows of every kind of jewelry you could imagine. Necklaces, rings, bracelets, barrettes, brooches... there were simply too many to name. Numerous golds and silvers alike glistened in the afternoon sunlight, enough to take your breath away if you weren’t careful.

“Wow,” Jaskier breathed next to me.

“I think this shop is worth more than both of our lives put together. Especially yours,” I murmured so only he could hear.

“I- what does that even mean?”

Before I could comment something smart back, the lady caught us in her sight and came over with a smile plastered across her face, ready to try and sell us something.

“How can I help you two today?”

Jaskier and I glanced at each other, not sure of what to tell her.

“Uh, we’re just looking for now. Thank you though,” I said in a bit of a hurry.

She seemed content with that, nodding slightly and then walking away to help someone else who would probably actually buy something.

Once more I couldn’t help but stare at all the rows in front of me. I think I could look at them forever, imagining myself wearing all the pieces to some fancy ball or banquet.

The only thing to drag me out of my thoughts was a small, timid tug on my sleeve. I turned and saw Jaskier looking at me. But he wasn’t really looking directly at me. His mind seemed to be elsewhere.

“We should go,” he said in a low tone.

“What? What’s wrong? Five more minutes. Let me dream a bit longer.”

He looked over me and around me before looking behind himself.

“No, I think we should really go, okay?”

“You’re acting weird, Jaskier. What’s got your doublet in a knot?”

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the merchant woman walk towards us once more. Everything seemed fine until Jaskier turned to see what I was looking at, and then the woman seemed a lot less friendly.

“Hey!” she yelled loudly, drawing attention to us.

My eyes widened and I looked at Jaskier, who was now stock still next to me. It was then I noticed that a gold chain was dangling out of his pocket that wasn’t there before.

“Shit,” he hissed.

Without another word he grabbed my hand, and we took off running. We weren’t the only ones however. Behind us, I heard thundering footsteps and the sound of metal on metal. The guards were after us.

“Jaskier, did you really swipe something off that woman’s stall?”

He turned over his shoulder slightly to look at me as we ran, but didn’t say anything. Maybe I was crazy, but there was a hint of a smile on his lips.

He had a death grip on my hand, and it didn’t let up as we ran through the streets taking twists and turns trying to lose the guards behind us. It was exhilarating, to be honest. So much so, that a laugh bubbled inside me and burst out before I could stop it.

“You’re crazy!” I yelled to Jaskier over all the noise and the rush of the wind.

He chuckled breathlessly, exhausted from the sudden sprint we had started.

“Just keep running! And don’t let go of my hand- I don’t want to get separated.”

I smiled to myself and looked down at the ground where my feet met the dirt in a rhythmic sort of way. And once again, I laughed. Only this time, Jaskier laughed with me, out of breath and unashamed. Running this way with him, hand in hand, was freeing. I felt so alive. I didn’t care where he was leading me- wherever it was, I would follow.

Jaskier pulled me around one last turn, and then into an alley. The guards were significantly farther behind us now. Even so, we cowered into a dark corner of the alley, and tried to catch our breath. However, when we looked at each other, a fit of giggles overtook us both.

“That was..”

“That was-”

We both spoke at the same time and stopped at the same time, causing us to giggle once more. My chest and stomach were aching from the lack of air, but it was a small price to pay for how happy and carefree I felt right now.

“So, what in the gods names did you take, Jaskier? And why?”

His smile fell a bit before he dug into his pocket where I had seen the gold chain earlier. But before he could get it all the way out, a familiar sound of thundering footsteps began to get closer.

“Shit,” Jaskier hissed, shoving the chain back down into his pocket like before.

He suddenly grabbed my arm and pulled me farther into the corner, but there wasn’t much room left.

“Jaskier, we’re gonna get caught!” I whispered.

His eyes scanned the area frantically and then came back to settle on me. By the sounds of it, the guards would be on us any minute now, and we would be caught.

In a split second, his mouth fell open a bit and he looked as though he had an idea. Without saying anything, he reached up and pulled the hood of my cloak up on my head, before shedding his doublet, leaving him only in his white undershirt. He threw his doublet into a passing carriage, and grabbed me roughly by the shoulders before turning me around and placing me roughly against the cold, stone wall.

“Jaskier, what the f-”

Right as the guards rounded the corner, Jaskier shoved his face onto mine and kissed me feverishly, pushing his body against mine until my back hurt against the hard wall behind me. Needless to say, it threw me off a bit, especially when he pulled my hood to the side so that it shielded both of our faces from the guards who were now running directly past us, paying us absolutely no mind.

Only when the sound of their feet faded into the distance did he pull away, eyes wild and hair sticking up in every direction imaginable. The only sounds that could be heard now were our heavy breaths, though we were still so close together it could have easily been mistaken as just one.

“Um, Jaskier...”

“I’m sorry,” he croaked in a hushed whisper.

“Uh, well, actually. I think the guards are coming back. Don’t you hear them?”

For a second, a look of utter confusion overtook his face. But almost as soon as it had come, a devilish grin replaced it.

“Actually yeah, they’re quite loud, aren’t they? Just to be safe...”

This time, both of us met each others lips at the same time, and it was much more pleasant than the first one. Our mouths moved in sync, in perfect harmony, as they had meant to all this time. His hands came up to hold the sides of my face tenderly, causing my hood to slip away and a rush of cold air to make me shiver. However, as soon as I wrapped my arms around his shoulders to bring him closer, the coldness was replaced by warmth, and I smiled into the kiss. Not once did he break from his aggressive, almost hungry kisses, and neither did I. We had both wanted this for so long, and neither of us wanted it to end.

Unfortunately, I had to pull away for air, so I begrudgingly stopped kissing him. But that didn’t stop him. He continued kissing me, on my cheeks, down my neck, and finally on my forehead, one last, gentle time.

“Why hadn’t we done this before now?” I gasped.

“Well,” he said in between kisses down my neck and face, “Geralt is usually around and...”

He stopped to place a gentle, final kiss on my lips, much different from the desperate ones before.

“Three’s a crowd after all.”

I smiled dumbly at him, still panting, and he mirrored my euphoria.

“Oh, right,” he muttered, pulling out the chain from his pocket.

“I got this for you.”

He reached out to me, danging a gold chain off his fingers. It was decorated with my favorite stones and colors, and it almost brought a tear to my eye. He remembered my favorite things?

“Jaskier, you stole that for me?”

He opened and closed his mouth several times before scratching the back of his neck.

“Uh, yes? I just- I saw how badly you wanted something from there and I couldn’t help but imagine how beautiful this would look on you. Before I knew it, I had it in my hands and was making to put it away.”

Rolling my eyes, I gave him a laugh and took it gently from him.

“Thank you so much. Truly... it’s wonderful.”

Jaskier smiled shyly at me, not at all matching the fierceness I had seen on him moments ago.

“Shame about your doublet though. I seem to remember you saying it was quite expensive.”

He chuckled and kicked at the dirt, flipping his hair out of his eyes.

“Yeah, well, there will be others. Now, let’s go. We probably shouldn’t hang around here.”

I smiled before placing the necklace around my neck, making sure it was covered by my clothing.

“Lead the way, lute boy.”

68 notes · View notes

ibijau · 4 years ago

Note

Hey, you said prompts are still open? If so, can you write something where jin guangshan is giving lan xichen 'unwanted attention'? Hopefully xisang?

Oops, this isn’t really xisang, and in fact mostly focuses on jgy. I finished this a few weeks ago actually, but just... forgot to post it? somehow??

warning for implied rape, especially against minors

It is bad enough when Jin Guangshan looks at women like that. Every time Jin Guangyao catches his father’s lecherous glances toward servants, entertainers, girls of good birth or, on a few repulsing occasions, his own daughter-in-law, he finds himself shivering with uncontrollable disgust. He shouldn’t mind, it’s just traces of the brothel clinging to him even now. A man like Jin Guangshan is allowed to look however he pleases at whoever he likes, and Jin Guangyao is acting like the whore’s son he is whenever he silently disapproves.

Jin Guangshan looking at women inside his house is nothing at all like patrons looking at the girls at the brothel. Jin Guangyao knows those servants aren’t going to be cheated, he knows they get compensated for submitting to their master’s desires, he knows that Jin Guangshan isn’t foolish enough to make advances to women he shouldn’t want, not when there are so many pretty girls he can buy. Jin Guangyao knows this, because it is part of his job to compensate his father’s flings. Jin Guangshan has decided he would know how to handle this.

Jin Guangyao hates that his father was right about that. He knows how to deal with crying girls, how much money to give them (more than he should, but no one has noticed yet), how to find them work elsewhere once Madam Jin has figured out what’s happening and they must be asked to leave. Jin Guangyao deals with all this easily.

What he can’t deal with is seeing his father start looking at Lan Xichen.

There are not many people Jin Guangyao cares about. His mother is dead. Nie Mingjue, whom he once admired, now terrifies him. He has some vague affection for Nie Huaisang, who is a little stupid but likeable, and for Jin Zixuan and his wife, who are both trying their best to be kind to him. He loves his father. He has to. He refuses to consider the alternative, however tempting it is sometimes, in the dark of night, after another incident where Jin Guangshan treated him worse than he treats some servants.

Jin Guangyao loves his father, like the dutiful son he is.

He also loves Lan Xichen, the only brother he truly wants in his life.

If it were anyone else that Jin Guangshan had newly set his eyes on, Jin Guangyao could ignore it. His father rarely bothers with men, but he does on occasion. Those boys usually have to be paid more than the girls.

Jin Guangshan is not kind to the boys he takes to bed.

If it were anyone else pestering Lan Xichen, Jin Guangyao would find ways to deal with them, either on his own through veiled threats, or by carelessly mentioning it next to Nie Mingjue, who would have the power to make very open threats.

But it is Lan Xichen, it is Jin Guangshan, and Jin Guangyao is torn between loyalties.

So he does what he is best at, and maintains the status quo until he's forced to pick a side.

Or at least, he tells himself that's all he's doing. If he prefers to meet his sworn brothers away from Lanling these days, it is only because Nie Mingjue is such an annoyance for Jin Guangshan. And certainly Lan Qiren is always invited alongside his nephew at conferences and official meetings lately, and then placed closer to Jin Guangshan than his nephew, but that is only because Jin Guangyao knows the Lan sect value seniority high above actual rank. And when his father does manage to strike a conversation with Lan Xichen, Jin Guangyao makes sure to stick around, suddenly deaf and blind to his father’s little signs that he wants time alone with whoever was unlucky enough to have caught his eye.

Afterward, his father always scolds him over some minuscule detail he thinks went wrong at that conference, but only because he dares not say out loud what truly bothered him.

Jin Guangshan is a man who openly lusts after any woman, but his taste for pretty boys and delicate men is where he draws the line for shame. Jin Guangyao finds him ridiculous for this, but in this case, it plays to his advantage and helps him protect Lan Xichen.

For weeks and weeks, Jin Guangyao continues that delicate balancing act, but the more time passes, the harder it is. There is just too much to think about lately, especially with Jiang Yanli approaching her term (the child will be born early apparently, and Jin Guangyao has suspicions… the idea must have come from Jiang Yanli, he thinks. Jin Zixuan is too awkward, too openly disgusted by his father’s behaviour, and more importantly too terrified of his mother). There’s also the continued headache of Wei Wuxian’s mysterious behaviour, the sect he may or may not have established in the Burial Mounds of Yiling. Jin Guangyao can’t get any information on that. The only cultivator to have been on the Burial Mounds since Wei Wuxian seceded from Yunmeng Jiang is Lan Wangji, who isn’t exactly the sort to gossip. And then, when he has a little time for himself, Jin Guangyao has allowed himself to chat here and there with the oh-so-lovely Qin Su who is always so happy to see him, and is so understanding when he has little time to devote to her. All this on top of his normal work of course.

There seems to be a lot more of that lately, too. Jin Guangyao would not ever accuse his father of punishing him for his interference regarding Lan Xichen, but it takes great effort to not think about it.

Jin Guangyao is starting to feel truly exhausted, but he just borrows medicine from the doctors to keep going, and prays that things will calm down when his father is given a grandson.

Two months before the planned date of birth (a little under a month before the actual, honest planned date), Jin Guangyao’s sworn brothers come visit him. They explain that they’ve been worried about him. Jin Zixuan, charming imbecile that he is, has written to them to say that his half-brother looks badly in need of a break, and surely Jin Guangshan won’t be able to deny him one if two sect leaders are here to demand his company, right?

Jin Guangyao, while very touched that his brother would care enough to do this, still wants to strangle him.

Without surprise, instead of Jin Guangyao being allowed to spend time with his sworn brothers, the two men are quickly swept away by Jin Guangshan to discuss new rumours coming from the Burial Mounds. Since Nie Mingjue is there, nothing should happen to Lan Xichen, but Jin Guangyao finds himself increasingly anxious. He’d thought his father was just on the verge of getting over his fancy for Lan Xichen after seeing so little of him recently, but this will just reignite that fire and ruin all his hard work.

Jin Guangyao is in his office, trying to get some work done, when Nie Huaisang drops by.

Worried as he was about seeing Lan Xichen near his father, Jin Guangyao hadn’t noticed that Nie Mingjue had brought his brother along. It’s unusual, really. Nie Huaisang doesn’t much like Carp Tower apparently, and always finds some excuse to be absent from events organised there. Jin Guangyao suspects that he just finds Jin tastes too tacky for his refined preferences.

“San-ge, here you are!” Nie Huaisang exclaims, closing the door behind him and running to Jin Guangyao’s desk. “You left so quickly earlier! And here I was so happy to see you again… it’s been too long, really too long!”

Jin Guangyao half smiles. “I’m very sorry. And sadly, since I didn’t know you were coming, I don’t have any present for you this time, so…”

Nie Huaisang gasps, one hand on his heart, then pouts in what he clearly must think is an adorable manner. “San-ge, I am offended! I don’t like you just for the trinkets you get me, you know! I just like when people are nice to me. And speaking of that…”

Taking on a conspiratorial expression, Nie Huaisang glances around as if fearful he might be heard, before leaning over Jin Guangyao’s desk until he’s all be sprawled over it.

“Jin zongzhu really is nice with Er-ge lately,” Nie Huaisang remarks, opening his fan and half hiding behind it. “Very nice indeed, isn’t he?”

It takes all of Jin Guangyao’s self control not to grimace. If even someone like Nie Huaisang has noticed… though at the same time, it might not be so surprising. Jin Guangyao has suspected for a while now that Nie Huaisang too looks a little too much at Lan Xichen, even if he hasn’t yet figured out the exact reason. Sexual desire is one option, but it could also be just admiration, or even envy: Nie Huaisang probably wishes he could have been born in Gusu Lan which better fits his interest.

Jin Guangyao has wondered, on occasion, why he can never seem to pinpoint Nie Huaisang’s motivation in doing certain things. If Nie Huaisang weren’t such a charming little idiot, it might worry him. Instead, he mostly ignores it. Nie Huaisang, in the grand scheme of things, is entirely irrelevant to Jin Guangyao’s life.

“Huaisang, are you perhaps jealous?” Jin Guangyao can’t help but tease.

Immediately Nie Huaisang makes a face, his expression far more disgusted than would have been expected.

“Jealous? Of not getting that old fart’s attentions?”

“That’s my father, Huaisang,” Jin Guangyao mildly objects, a little stunned. Nie Huaisang is rarely that open about liking or disliking anyone. His personality is too mild and easy going for any intense emotions.

“Some father he is,” Nie Huaisang retorts, lazily fanning himself, sending some of Jin Guangyao’s paperwork flying everywhere. “And don’t try to defend him, I know you hardly like him any more than I do. And I know you’re almost as unhappy as I am that he’s always looking at er-ge. I’m only mostly stupid, you know. I see what you’ve been doing, even if others don’t pay attention.”

“I have no idea what you mean,” Jin Guangyao dryly retorts, pushing Nie Huaisang away from his desk so he can put some order back in his papers.

So he can put some order in his thoughts as well. To have been seen and understood by someone like Nie Huaisang is a discomforting experience. It means he really must have been transparent in his efforts. No wonder his father has been so unhappy with him lately… and that’s the only reason Jin Guangyao will consider, of course. It is all because of this situation with Lan Xichen, all because of his divided loyalty, or else Jin Guangshan would have mellowed before his efforts already.

Jin Guangyao should just give in and let Lan Xichen fend for himself. It is ridiculous to think of protecting a man like the great Zewu-Jun, anyway.

Jin Guangyao should just allow for events to follow their natural course.

He would, if he didn’t know his father’s tendencies.

“You know, it’s not the first time Jin zongzhu starts looking at someone high ranking that he shouldn’t be looking at,” Nie Huaisang casually says. “He likes to establish his dominance over others, if you haven’t noticed yet.”

Jin Guangyao freezes, and shoots Nie Huaisang a curious look. The young man shrugs and closes his fan with a sharp movement, before going to pick up some papers that flew further away from the desk.

“If there’s a sect that feels weak, he’ll try to take advantage,” Nie Huaisang says as he kneels down to grab the documents. “He can’t do it with Yunmeng Jiang, because if he touches a single hair of Jiang Cheng or worse, Jiang Yanli, Wei Wuxian is going to come down from the Burial Mounds and slaughter everyone. That’s the only reason he hasn’t touched her, and you know it.”

With a slight grimace, Jin Guangyao nods. The way his father looks as his own daughter-in-law sometimes is… well. It’s good for her that her brothers are so temperamental and powerful.

“He can’t go after the Nie sect, he’s tried before and that didn’t go well for him,” Nie Huaisang casually continues, turning his back to Jin Guangyao as he meticulously tries to organise the papers he’s gathered. “But the Lan sect… ah, they’re easy pickings at the moment, right?”

“I’m sure Lan Xichen can stand for himself,” Jin Guangyao politely replies. “Though your concern is very touching.”

“I know your father’s methods,” Nie Huaisang retorts, still keeping his back turned. “And I think you know them too, because I know who pays his victims for their silence. He still uses that same drug, eh? Well, if it works…”

Jin Guangyao shivers at the other man’s tone. Suddenly, Nie Huaisang doesn’t sound like his bubbly, hare-brained self, and more like a colder version of his brother.

It suddenly occurs to Jin Guangyao that Nie Huaisang really is too frequently absent from events taking place in Lanling, and that he often disappears quickly even when his brother drags him there.

It also occurs to him that with how often Nie Mingjue has complained against his brother’s reluctance, he cannot know what caused it. Nie Mingjue isn’t one to play pretend. He also isn’t one to let insults or attacks against his brother go unpunished. Nie Huaisang knows that as well. And with how powerful the Nie sect is at the moment, a danger even to Lanling Jin, it makes no sense for Nie Huaisang to have kept secrets if something happened to him recently. Not that anything could have happened without Jin Guangyao knowing anyway. Dealing with his father’s partners was one of the first duties he’s been given upon rejoining Lanling Jin after the war, he would have known.

Unless it happened before the war.

Nie Huaisang stayed an awful long time in Gusu for his studies, and while he can be charmingly stupid, he’s got a pretty decent memory and excellent manners, so studying in the Cloud Recesses should have been easy for him… unless he didn’t want to leave too early. Perhaps if he’d gotten in trouble with someone powerful, he thought that being stuck in Gusu would make it easy to avoid that person. But then, if something happened before that, Nie Huaisang would have been so young, only just…

Jin Guangyao shivers, and wishes he were more surprised. His father’s tastes aren’t unknown to him. He isn’t too picky with women, but he likes boys more than he likes men.

“Er-ge knows to be careful,” Nie Huaisang says lightly, standing up again, a cheerful smile on his lips. “I’ve told him about some of the things I’ve heard happened to pretty boys in Lanling. But he’s also the sort who doesn’t want to believe the worst of people, and anyway, sooner or later, his vigilance might slip. Besides, isn’t it awful, always having to be on your guard like that? Ah, it must be the worst. You would know, of course?”

“My father will soon have a grandchild,” Jin Guangyao replies dryly. “He’ll have better things to do than look at pretty faces. It’s just a matter of waiting.”

“Maybe he will, maybe he won’t,” Nie Huaisang snaps, dropping a pile of paper on Jin Guangyao’s desk. “I know what I’d bet on. And I know it’s not a risk I’m willing to take, anyway. I know what sort of a man your dear daddy is, A-Yao, and I don’t want certain things to happen to my er-ge. So if Jin zongzhu doesn’t keep his hands to himself…”

Jin Guangyao shivers again. A shichen ago, he’d have laughed if anyone had told him that Nie Huaisang would ever try to intimidate him. Now though, seeing that smile devoid of warmth that’s just a touch too sharp and the feverish glint in those delicate eyes, Jin Guangyao can’t help feeling some genuine worry.

“Huaisang, are you trying to threaten my father?” Jin Guangyao laughs.

“No. I’m threatening you, A-Yao,” Huaisang announces, dropping his smile. He really does look too much like Nie Mingjue when he’s serious. “Deal with your father, or I will. And we both know that I just have a few things to say to my brother to send him in a rampage. And if he’s that angry, do you think he’ll really care that you vaguely tried to help Lan Xichen?”

Jin Guangyao freezes at the thought. Nie Mingjue doesn’t like him even when he’s in a good mood, so there’s no doubt he wouldn’t feel a shred of hesitation before lumping Jin Guangyao together with his father. Depending on how Nie Huaisang frames the situation, Jin Guangyao really might look like an accomplice. Hasn’t he helped his father deal with his lovers in the past? He’s never been made to help get those boys and girls into Jin Guangshan’s bed, not yet, but being the one to keep them quiet after, isn’t it worse?

Nie Mingjue will surely think it’s worse, since it’s Jin Guangyao doing it.

“A-Yao, I’m really glad we had this little talk,” Nie Huaisang chirps, suddenly all smiles again, as if there had never been a single thought in that pretty little head of his. “We should chat more! But I know you are so, so busy, so I’ll let you be for now. Still, give this some thought, alright? And if you need help, don’t hesitate to ask. Maybe we didn’t make a big production of it like with da-ge and er-ge, but I’m your friend too!”

Happy and cheerful once more, Nie Huaisang leaves with a spring to his step.

Alone at his desk, Jin Guangyao presses a hand against his mouth to fight the nausea that an intense wave of terror is causing. That it was caused by Nie Huaisang, of all people, almost makes him break into hysterical laughter, or perhaps it makes him want to cry. The two are equally likely, and only the self control he’s learned in Wen Ruohan’s service prevent him from exploding in such a disgraceful manner.

And so, when he calms down at last, Jin Guangyao finds himself divided again.

Before, he had wondered who he was most loyal to, between his father and his one true friend.

Now, by contrast, he must decide who terrifies him most between Jin Guangshan and Nie Mingjue.

And he knows no matter the answer, blood must be spilled if he is to survive this.

#jin guangyao #nie huaisang #lan xichen #mo dao zu shi #mdzs #tagging lxc because the fic is technically about him even if he's mostly absent oops #jau writes #Anonymous #but yeah legit I finished this in january I think #and I was convinced I had posted it already but turns out I hadn't ooops??

58 notes · View notes

liddolwhynot2000 · 4 years ago

Note

Hey! So, I was wondering if I could get a levi x reader where the reader runs the tea shop levi goes to to get his tea and they slowly become friends before realizing they’ve fallen in love with eachother?

Aiii one of my first fic supporters ⭐ I'm so sorry for answering this so late. But I got you.

Here we goo. I hope it lives up to your expectations! @dove-music

____________________________________

Apricity

____________________________________

Summary:

After all, Levi had gotten into a relationship.

With a woman who baked cookies and drew his face on them for fun.

___________________________________

Pairings: Levi/Reader

____________________________________

Genre: fluff, romance, Levi-does-not-know-romance, kinda funny

____________________________________

If Levi had to pick any place in the world that gave made him feel something akin to contentment, it would be the little tea shop that was a 10 minute walk from the Survey Corps.

It wasn't some big, fancy cafe, overcrowded with civilians and soldiers, like other establishments were. A small, cosy little shop in the corner of the street. The shop made good business, he could tell, with its modest furnishing and quality to tea.

He had stumbled upon it in a dire time of need- right after losing his beloved friends to titans. He had accepted that he would stay in the survey corps but he hadn't been willing to make friends at the time. He didn't want to get drunk with his fellow soldiers, or visit brothels. He had just wanted some quiet.

Levi had been walking along the street by himself, in the dark, when he had stumbled upon that cafe. It had been on a whim that he had decided to go inside and actually order something.

He would try to convince himself that it was a one time thing, that he was simply trying some of the luxuries the surface had to offer. But one time turned into two, two turned into ten and so on.

He was rewarding himself with good tea, Levi told himself, that was why he kept coming back. He fought titans for humanity, the least he could do was use his paycheck to buy himself a nice beverage every once in a while. It was treat to himself.

The sweet owner of the cafe had nothing to do with this. Nothing at all.

Yeah sure Levi nobody believes you

Shut up four eyes or else-

____________________________________

'Sir, here you go.'

'.. I didn't order this.'

Levi looked at the plate set infront of him with indifference, although a part of him wondered if it would taste as good as it looked. It was a chocolate cake slice, with some sort of white cream on it.

'It's on the house sir.'

He looked at you, feeling bewildered at the sight of your smiling face. Was this sort of shit normal in the surface? Just giving each other food? There had to be some sort of catch right?

'.. What do you want?'

You blinked at him in confusion.

'Er- nothing sir. We sometimes give free meals to customers. You're the lucky customer this week.'

Levi felt compelled to ask one more time.

'So I owe you nothing for this?'

'Absolutely nothing.'

'Right... Thanks.'

There was no more clarification he could ask for, not when you had used that firm tone. You excused yourself and walked away, leaving Levi to his treat.

Huh. The people here weren't so bad after all.

Maybe he would come back to try some more dishes later.

It's not to see you again hell no stop it Hange- it's NOT-

____________________________________

He later finds out that you're the owner of the cafe. You could just hire help and let others manage the cafe, but you prefer handling it yourself. Levi can't help liking that- so many people would just sit on their asses, but you're actually working hard.

He doesn't get around to going to the cafe again until a month later. It's after a grueling expedition and he's beyond irritated with everyone. For some reason, they've started calling him 'humanity's strongest' and frankly, Levi finds it to be a dumb title.

Becuase even with all his strength, he hadn't been able to save everyone.

Wanting to get away from overeager comrades and a sugar high Hange (somebody give moblit a raise poor boi), Levi decides to head to the cafe.

Yet again, you're the one who welcomes him. He silently thanks you when you seat him in the corner of the shop, an area where hardly anyone would see him and he wouldn't have to see anyone else. You had perhaps understood from his uniform and exhausted face that he wasn't in the mood to deal with anyone, so you had hand him the menu and quietly tell him you'll be back in five minutes.

Once you get him his chosen tea, you also quietly leave a plate of another desert with it. This time, Levi doesn't bother asking questions. He nods at you gratefully before allowing himself to indulge in the delicacy infront of him.

He can't help but want to ask your name.

Aww Levi you drew a heart on that paper with her name on it-

No what the fuck YOU drew that four eyes-

___________________________________

He frequents the cafe at least twice a month for the next five years. It's become a tradition of sorts, going there after a tiresome mission, enjoying a meal made by you. You don't always let him have food for free of course, but it's often at a discounted rate. And as someone who has never enjoyed any privelege whatsoever in his entire life, he guards the special consideration you show him close to his heart.

The two of you don't interact much at the start, but Levi notices you. The way you give your workers decent time off, how you don't hesitate in offering monetary help or letting someone take the day off, even if it means you're overworked. He hasn't talked to you much, but he has a good opinion of you. He finds you fascinating, the first speck of kindness he's seen in his life, since Isabel and her desire to free a bird. Levi doesn't bother approaching you directly, because he doesn't even know what to say.

The two of you have a full interaction six months into his routine, the day Levi accidentally stays till its closing time. It had been good luck on your part--that when the drunk garrison soldiers had stumbled into your cafe will less then innocent intentions, Levi had been there to deal with them. As far as the garrisons were concerned, it had been the worst night of their lives. No amount of alcohol would ever be enough to make them forget what had happened.

Look at you, so protective of your woman even then-Levi where did you get that knife from--wait no - Erwin HELP-

He strikes a tentative friendship with you after that. You had been beyond thankful for his intervention, knowing you might not have made it out with your life if he hadn't been there. You made him cookies the next day, coming all the way to headquarters to give them to him.

Much to his despair, you meet his self proclaimed friend--Hange, and the two of you become friends too. He tries not to mind it, however, the day Hange flashes a cookie with what is clearly his frowning face drawn on it, he has to be held back by five soldiers from throwing Hange out the window. He marches to cafe, intending on letting out his ire at your insolence. But somehow, he doesn't tell you off like he had planned. Instead he finds himself asking you about your baking and art skills-even he would admit that the drawing of him had been spot on.

He does ban from making them again. You honoured it, until the two of you became good friends. Suddenly, every holiday involves at least one tray of grumpy Levi cookies. Even Erwin had enjoyed them, much to his exasperation. It had lead to his vow of never trying one.

They tasted amazing, I really think you should have tried them- OUCH that hurt shorty-

It doesn't take long till he finds himself purposefully visiting at closing time, knowing you'll just make yourself make a meal too, sit nearby and read a book. You engage him in conversation at times, telling him about the books you read. The two of you bond over food and fictional stories. He let's his walls down for you, little by little. You end up becoming the first person he let's in, his first friend, since the death of Isabel and Farlan.

Levi likes to think they would have liked you.

It's nice, spending time with you. You don't look at him like he's some God with all the solutions, like his comrades do. You aren't in some high risk career where he'd have to worry about you dying. You're stable and peaceful, exactly where you are.

Everytime he sets out for an expedition, he mentally prepares himself for not making it back without at least half his cormades. When it comes to you, his friend, he has no worries. You're safely tucked away in your cafe, out of reach from the titans grasp.

'friend' sure Levi, you write love letters for your friends.

Four eyes where the fuck did you get those from, give them back-

___________________________________

It's a peaceful day, as evidenced by the birds chirping and general pleasant atmosphere. One could say the weather is perfect. Just the right amount of sunshine shining in the streets, children enjoying themselves, chasing each other.

Even Levi is in a good mood. Of course, his good mood is amplified by his current location. His favorite cafe.

He's sitting inside, but the windows are open, letting in fresh air. He has a nice cup of tea on the table, with a plate full of sandwiches. You were seated in front of him, drinking some tea so sweet he could smell it.

You're telling him about a book, how you've analysed its villainous characters. He enjoys listening to you, often finding your ability to guage complex characters with relative ease to be startling. It makes him trust you more, knowing that no matter how fucked up something occurs, you wouldn't take it at face value.

You wouldn't judge him like that.

The two of you are interrupted as the bell chimes and someone enters the cafe. It's a young man, maybe in his 20s. He's dressed well, a white shirt with a brown vest on top. You put down the book down and smile as you go to greet him.

Suddenly, Levi doesn't feel as peaceful as before. He keep his eyes to his tea but his ears are perked up as he listens to you chatter with the man.

'Hello. Its been a while eh?'

'It has. I've been in Wall Sina getting some work done. Finally finished it, those damn nobles ask us for way too much-'

The man places an order for a bag of biscuits, ones you had already made. You give him a discount, which Levi smugly notes isn't even half of what he gets, and he tells you he has to leave soon. Levi's relieved really, he doesn't know what he's feeling, but he knows he doesn't like him.

'.. Maybe next time, I could take you out on a date...'

Even though you gently reject the man, who takes it well, Levi can't stop frowning. Once you take your place in infront of him again and continue your explaination, he turns his attention back to you and tries to brush off that feeling in his gut.

But it doesn't work.

____________________________________

When Levi had been taken in under Kenny's (questionable) care, he had learned a lot of things from the man. How to hold a knife, how to break bones, make deals, the sex talk that Levi would like to never remember etc. Kenny had taught him plenty of life skills.

However, his methods had been crazy to say the least. More often then not, Levi found himself on the recieving end of sparring sessions where he was sent flying into trash cans and expected to get up and attack again. Kenny had been ruthless, but it had been for his own good. He wouldn't have survived that hell hole otherwise.

Levi recalled a specific moment in his early days of being with Kenny all too clearly. He hadn't fully understood why Kenny was making him train like this, and frankly, he had been exhausted being treated like a punching bag. In his anger, he had yelled at Kenny, half crying, about how his mother would never let him get hurt like this and how much he missed her.

Kenny had stared at him blankly for a minute once he had finished, and with the speed of lightning, the man had punched him in the stomach.

It had been extremely painful, taking his breath away. Kenny had then proceeded to beat him senseless--telling him what would happen if he wasn't strong enough with each blow.

He would always remember that pain for the rest of his life. Nothing had ever come close to it, or at least that's what he had thought.

But right now, sitting at his desk late at night, Levi feels like Kenny had punched him in the gut again. He was, yet again, experiencing a feeling he would never forget. It wasn't pain, but it's intensity was just the same.

Love.

..sittin in a tree, K I S S I N- AHHH

Section Commander, are you okay!? How did you fall down the stairs??

___________________________________

Levi and the rest of the soldiers had the night off, and while usually he was more inclined to simply stay away from their parties, he allowed his squad to drag him. It had, as expected, turned out to be a mistake. Everyone had been too drunk. Especially his squad.

When Olou began singing, Levi listened with mild amusement. His voice actually hadn't been too bad.

When Gunther and Eld began drunkenly trying to dance together to his singing, he might have actually smiled while drinking his beer.

When a very drunk Moblit collapsed next to him, muttering about that crazy four eyes, Levi decided to put his foot down and end the party. With Petra's help, he had carried Moblit to his room. The poor man had muttered the entire way there, mostly about Hange and Titans and needing therapy.

The punch in the gut, figuratively, had taken place on his way back to his room. Courtesy of Petra.

He hadn't noticed it, which had been stupid of him in hindsight. His ginger haired comrade had been harbouring feelings for him- feelings he knew he didn't return in the slightest. He had turned her down as gently as possible, not expecting her to loop her arms around his neck and beg him for one night together.

'... Please captain, just one night. If you still feel the same in the morning, I'll never bring this up again.'

Maybe in another universe, he would have said yes. After all, despite the age gap between them, Petra was rather beautiful. And any man would want to enjoy a night with her.

Alas, the moment she had looped her arms around him, his breath had suddenly left him, as though Kenny had punched him in the gut again.

He wasn't seeing his ginger haired cormade leaning into him, confessing her love to him. He was seeing you, your hair in that messy bun, that sweet smile, saying all those words. Practically begging him to make you his.

The moment Petra repeated her statement again, however, the vision fell apart and he pushed her away. After a firm rejection and some tears, he wandered back to his office, feeling dazed.

Sitting down in his chair, he had stared mindlessly, thinking about you.

You and your sweet words. Your obsession with reading. Those special discounts for him. That gentle smile. Even those absurd grumpy Levi cookies you baked.

Levi was a Capricorn--and capricorns were practical people. Rational. And in the interest of being practical, Levi decided to admit his feelings to himself. It would only drive him crazy if he didn't.

He was in love with you.

___________________________________

In his thirty something years of living, Levi had never been in an relationship. He had been too busy navigating the dark realms of the underground, trying to find enough food to eat. He hadn't cared for sex either, too traumatized by Kenny and his (shudder) talk. By the time he had gotten older and more stable, he had been so disgusted by the flithiness of the act, that he didn't even bother seeking out partners.

Which was why, here was, in love with a woman who probably deserved better then him, unable to do figure out what to do. Should he tell you? Or just keep it to himself? He wasn't sure if you felt the same, but the part of him that was in love with you knew he'd die happy if he held even the smallest part of your heart.

He was at a loss really. Maybe he could find a book about this crap.

Kenny's voice rung in his head for a few seconds, before Levi shut it off. He would rather die single then get a girl using Kenny's advice. He could do better then this. Maybe Erwin would have a book, there had to be somewhere the blonde bastard learned his charm from.

... You gotta be upfront kid. If you want her to be yours..

Levi wouldn't listen to Kenny. No. There was no way...

.. Don't beat around the bush brat, just tell her...

...he would do as Kenny had advised him to.

... Kill her if she doesn't like you back okay..

Okay that wasn't happening. Even if some of it sounded like it made sense, he still wouldn't do it like Kenny would.

No.

Freaking.

Way.

__________________________________

The next day, Levi silently wondered if his mentor was still alive. If he was, Levi resolved to stab him in a heartbeat. Because he just knew, that if Kenny could see him now, he would laugh his ass off.

After all, Levi had gotten into a relationship.

With a woman who baked cookies and drew his face on them for fun.

And it was all because he followed Kenny's advice.

Goddamit.

___________________________________

A/N: This ended up being longer then planned whew. My fingers were numb at some points, bc I wrote this in 3 straight hours. I hope y'all liked this! Am I the only who thinks grumpy Levi cookies would be amazing? I had to give Kenny a role in this, it was too tempting not to. Overall, I liked this one alot. I actually have a plan in mind involving this Levi and reader, which I'll hopefully write soon. Till then, take care everyone!

#AOT #Snk #Levi x reader #Levi ackerman #Levi AOT #Romance #Levi does not know romance

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lilchibi-chan · 4 years ago

Text

Siren Song: The Date

If you haven’t read part 1 you can read it here

18+ WARNING FOR SEXUAL THEMES AND LANGUAGE

Tonight is the night of your date with Keigo and your stomach is absolutely tied in knots. It’s currently 4, which gives you enough time to get ready so that you won’t keep him waiting. You decide to take a relaxing shower to help calm your nerves. Then you brush your teeth, so that your breath is fresh and clean. After, you decide to do your hair and throw some bombshell curls in it. At this point, it’s 5:30 meaning you have enough time to do a movie style montage of going through your clothes until you find the perfect thing. A red body con dress with spaghetti straps and some clear heels. It was definitely one of your favorite dresses, but it also reminded you of Keigo’s wings. You decided to do a “no makeup” makeup look to make yourself feel like even more of a bad bitch. You also added a small amount of highlighter to accentuate your cheek bones. You spray some perfume and look at the clock. It’s 6:15, so you decide to clean while you have the time and you won’t come home to a messy apartment.

You walk out into your living room at exactly 7 and sure enough you hear a knock on your balcony door. Keigo is there with lilies, your favorite. He looks at you floored by how beautiful you look.

“W-Wow kid, you look-wow,” he says basically speechless

“Ya know, you could just come in through the building like everyone else,” you say jokingly to try and get him to say something

“Why would I do that...when I can come straight to you,” He says following you inside as you go to kitchen to get a vase for the flowers

Keigo watches as you walk to the kitchen, he eyes you up and down because he is still not over how good you look.

When you turn around, you notice him staring.

“Like what you see,” you ask teasing him and receiving a laugh

“You have no idea,” he says under his breath, so that you don’t hear

You quickly placed the flowers in some water and walk over to where he was standing.

“Ready!,” you say with an excited smile

He grabs your hand and leads you to the balcony. He then climbs up on the ledge and reaches out his hand

“Do you trust me,” he asks expectantly

“Yeeesss,” you say nervous, but intrigued

He pulls you up on the ledge with him then cradles you in his arms.

“Hold tight kid,” He says, his eyes glimmering with excitement

He takes off and at first you have your eyes closed. You feel your heart beating so fast that it’s gonna beat out of your chest from the excitement and adrenaline you feel.

“Take a look kid”

You do as he says and you can see the lights from the city as far as the eyes could see. Any fear you had went away, as you were too mesmerized by the beautiful sight in front of you. Keigo was used to seein this view, but as a first time flyer on Air Hawks, he figured it was something you should see.

“So what d’ya think,” he asked

“It’s amazing,” you say with laughter in your voice,”it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

“That feeling you have right now... that’s the feeling I had the first night we met and that’s how I feel every time I’m with you. Whether it’s listening to you sing or hearing your laugh. Seeing that gorgeous smile and that beautiful face of yours. That feeling of pure happiness and wonder and hope, that’s how I feel with you. My baby bird.”

“Keigo,” is all you manage to get out before his lips meet yours and you can literally feel every ounce of his feelings for you in that one kiss.

“C’mon kid, there’s somewhere I wanna take you. Not that you really have a choice considering we’re hundreds of feet in the air and you can’t really follow me up here,” he says with a soft,breathy chuckle

He flies through the sky once more and you arrive at a really fancy restaurant. It’s empty, with the exception of the host and a couple waiters, the bartender and kitchen staff.

“I rented out the whole place for us. I hope that’s okay, if not I understand if it’s too-“

You cut him off by giggling, finding his anxiousness very cute.

“It’s fine,it’s not too much at all. I find it very romantic actually.” You say trying to reassure him

He let out a deep breath of relief.

You both sat down at the table and ordered drinks. Hawks had actually ordered the appetizer and entree beforehand. He even ordered desert.

While you both waited for everything, you decided to strike up conversation.

“Keigo,” you start,“can I ask you something?”

“Of course, baby bird,” he says in a comforting tone after hearing the uneasy-ness in your voice

“Why me? I know for a fact you have women fawning over you, basically worshipping the ground you walk on and you chose to ask me to go on a date with you. ” you ask, insecurities flooding your mind

“Baby bird, to put it simply, you’re the only woman who makes me feel the way I feel when I’m with you. That sounded better in my head, but what I’m trying to say is, you don’t want Hawks the winged hero, you’re more interested in getting to know me. From the night I heard you singing on your balcony, I knew you were special. What I feel for you, is that once in a lifetime, can’t eat-can’t sleep, reach for the stars kind of love. I know it’s really early to say that, but you’ve got me hooked kid.” He says honestly

You can’t help, but blush and feel a little embarrassed by his honesty. Obviously not embarrassed in a bad way, but in the best,most amazing way possible.

Your appetizers and entree come out of the kitchen at the same time and you devour everything. Not like an animal though, you have class. You were just really hungry because you didn’t wanna be rude and not eat anything if he did take you to a restaurant, so you had a light lunch, just something to hold you until dinner with him.

“A girl with an appetite huh,” he says teasing you and it caused to blush for the millionth time tonight

“I like it,” he says with a warm smile causing your whole face to go red

“I didn’t wanna be rude and not eat everything,” you say honestly while playing with your fingers

“Baby bird, you don’t have to starve yourself for me. I like you just how you are and nothing is gonna change my mind about that or how I feel about you.”

You give a small smile

“Thanks Keigo.”

Dessert comes out and you see that Hawks has ordered you a slice of tiramisu because he remembered it’s your favorite and on the plate it has a special message Be My Love Bird?

You look up at him, tears brimming your eyes and a huge smile on your face.

“Yes. A thousand times yes.” You say happily

He is just ecstatic and can’t contain his excitement. He rushes up from his chair and moves next to you. He then turns your chair so that your whole body is facing him. He cups your face and bends over, so that he can kiss you. Filled with pure happiness he deepens the kiss and asks for permission to enter your mouth by moving his tongue between your lips. You allow him to enter and this turns into a full make out session. You can feel yourself getting carried away, but you don’t care. Before things get more intense, you feel Hawks pull away.

“How about we get out of here? Then I can show you how happy I am the right way,” he says in your ear, sending shivers down your spine and your eyes roll back from the sensual tone of his voice

He puts some money on the table and the whisks you outside. This time you both take off like you’re hugging, you holding as tight as you can, but not cutting off his ability to breathe.

You both arrive at his penthouse and you are in awe at how big it is.

“Like what you see, baby bird,” he asks mockingly as you had done before

“It’s just-wow,” you say blown away by the size of the place and the view from it

He laughs at the expression on your face

“So cute,” he says just before kissing you again and again deepening it as he did before

You start to feel the heat raise on your face and ears again as you get lost in the kiss, wanting more from him. You drape your arms around his neck and he proceeds to lift you up, so that you’re straddling him and he carries you to his room. He gently lays you on the bed and then just stands there admiring you and how vulnerable you look. He smiles, then bites his lip.

He then hovers over you and whispers in your ear.

“I’m going to devour you baby bird.”

This leaves you shocked, but still ready for him to do whatever he wants with you.

He begins to kiss your lips then leaves trails of kisses down your neck, breasts and stomach. He starts leaving kisses and small bites on your inner thighs which gains small moans from you and builds up anticipation between your legs.

He released a deep chuckle at your reaction, knowing he was driving you crazy. At this point, you were dripping wet just waiting for him to enter your pussy. He can sense you getting impatient, so he moves back up to your face to look you in the eyes and give you a smirk.

“Relax, you’ll be my song bird soon,” he says, then grinds himself into you, so you can feel his growing erection. Another moan leaves your body. The teasing isn’t over yet, as he decides to work some magic with his fingers. Slowly rubbing your clit, he can feel you get wetter by the second. He enters your body with his fingers causing a gasp to leave your mouth and you arch your back.

“Yeah~, that’s it baby bird. Give yourself to me,” he says seductively

After few minutes of this you start to beg.

“P-please Keigo, I need you.”

“Tell me what you want songbird~. I wanna hear you say it.”

He starts to eat you out. Slurping, licking, even kissing down there. Making you go crazy, having a fit a moans escape your lips.

“You taste so fucking good, songbird~” he says in a low growl

“Keigo,” you say weakly

“C’mon baby bird~, you gotta tell me what you want,” he says in your ear, sounding greedy, but waiting for you to give him permission

“I-I want you...inside me,” you say shy

He looks at you and with the moonlight shining in, he can tell you’re blushing.

“So fucking cute,” he says adding emphasis on ‘fucking’

You hear him slip on a condom and then he hovers over you. He slowly eases himself into you to prepare for his size. At first he has the tip and a bit of his shaft.

“Fuck! So fucking tight.”

He starts to move, slowly and once he feels you loosen up, he inches more of himself into you.

As he moves deeper, moans escape your lips.

“Relax baby bird,” he says then moves super close to your ear,“I’m just gettin started with you,” he says in a deep, husky voice

This causes your eyes to roll back from the erotic tone in his voice. You couldn’t wait for him to ravage you, for him to claim you as his. Just his.

His movements become more comfortable, as you’ve adjusted to his size. He picks up his pace, hit you a little harder and deeper. You start to feel your juices start to drip down as he keeps thrusting himself into you.

“Fuuuuuuck kid,” he says reveling in how warm and wet you are

“Get on all fours,” he demands and you do as he says

Before he enters you he says,“If you want me to stop, just say so”

You nod in response and then he enters you. The feeling of him filling you in this position was almost too much to take, but mama ain’t raise no punk, so you let him get used to you this way before you made him stop.

He started muttering fuck several times under his breath, starting slow just as he did before, but this time the sensation was different. He had a hard grip on your ass as he pulled you into him, doing hard strokes, causing there to be a loud clapping sound as you made impact with him.

He starts going faster and harder. His bedroom is now filled with a symphony of moans coming from the both of you.

“Ah fuck~, ahhh~” he sang feeling himself get closer to his climax

“K-Keigo, ahhh, fuck... so fucking good”

“That’s it song bird, sing for me.”

His movements are now faster than before, stronger now too

“Fuck..K-Keigo, I’m c-close,” you confess

“Me too, song bird.. but I’m gonna take care of you first”

He started to move a little slower so that you could ride out your orgasm. He finished soon after and then cleaned up.

After he cleaned, he met you in the bed and pulled you into him. He wanted to feel your warm skin against his in the purest way. He wanted to hold you in his arms and cuddle you.

He started humming in your ear, resulting in you drifting off to sleep. He did the same and you could feel his chest rising and falling as he took sleepy breaths. This was the most perfect place in the world and you had it all to yourself.

The next morning, you wake up and see Hawks isn’t there next to you. You figured he must’ve left, so still tired, you decided to take a shower and let the warm water heal your body from last night. When you were fully awake, you realized you don’t have any extra clothes.

You grab the extra towel that hung from the towel rack and enter the bedroom. You see on the corner of the bed, he left you a tshirt of his and some sweats. He even wrote you a note.

Baby bird, meet me in the kitchen when you wake up. Breakfast will be waiting for you

You got dressed and walked out into the kitchen. His back was turned, but he heard when you opened the doors to his to room.

“Hey there, baby bird,” he said in his deep voice, sounding like sweet music to your ears

“Good morning,” you say politely

“It’s a little past morning,” he says to you causing you to be confused

You look at your phone

“12:30!!”

“Yeah, sorry about that love bird, but I do tend to have that affect,” he says with a smirk

“S-shut up Keigo,” you say blushing

He chuckles at your reaction

“You’re so cute baby bird,” he says sauntering over to you. When he reaches you, he places a kiss on your lips

You both sit together and eat breakfast, technically brunch at this time. He found little ways to touch you, whether it be your foot, leg, arm, whatever. He just wanted to be close to you.

You spend the rest of the day watching a couple movies until he brings you home.

“See you tomorrow, song bird” he says before leaving

You can’t help but smile about your magical night with Keigo and can’t wait to see him when he visits you while he’s on patrol tomorrow.

I just wanna thank you guys for all the love on Siren Song pt. 1, it means a lot, especially since I love writing and I love this bird man so fucking much. I’m glad you enjoyed it. Lmk if I should do a part 3 🥺

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littlefreya · 5 years ago

Text

The Way to Hell - Part 9

MANY Thanks to @raspberrydreamclouds who designed this cover as a gift! ☝

Summary: Post Mi6, Alternate Canon. August escapes Ethan Hunt with his face intact and is currently the most dangerous man alive. Unwilling to back down from his murderous agenda, he plots to continue where he stopped, unaware of the trained assassin who is sent to bring him down.

Pairing: August Walker x OFC (Lacey)

Word count: 8.3k

Warnings: Dark themes, smut, fluff and angst. Unprotected sex, hints of stalking, violence, swearing, sexual mentions, slight gore, choking, death.

A/N: Okay, this chapter is long, it was hard to write, you guys may never speak to me again after this. So I’ll just post it now, and turn off my phone and hide beneath the blanket with excessive anxiety. Thanks @agniavateira for editing my work and being my muse.💖

As always, comments and feedback are more than welcome 💖💕

*No permission is given for reposting my work, copying it or parts of the source material and claiming it as your own*

Title: Lacey

~*~

Have you paid the ferryman?

~*~

The cool light of fluorescent doesn’t do the honeyed gold of her hair justice.

Doe eyes meet him, a striking green. Pure, like freshly-cut grass on a spring morning. The navy-coloured suit she wears counters the sunny shade of her slightly curly hair. She sports mid-length tassels, cut neatly just above her shoulders. She looks like she had it done this morning by the looks of it .

“Hartmann, Lacey.”

Sitting at his desk with a pen pressed to his lips, the CIA agent observes her while ignoring the small hand in front of him. A tall, fit man in his late 20’s, face clean-shaven, hair like pure chocolate, combed neatly to the side but for a large rogue curl that falls on his brow. He collects it between his fingers and attempts to tuck it back in place.

“I don’t do partners, sweetcheeks.” he retorts after a short glance and turns away from the young agent, returning to his computer to browse a file he was just reading before she interrupted him.

An amused sigh passes through her plump lips as she shakes her head with sheer disbelief. “Do you have it any more cliche than that?”

“I might, depending how long you are going to loom over there, princess.” August shoots back and slightly adjusts the tie around his shirt collar, not bothering to face the young woman again. It’s obvious what this is: a muzzler, or rather a babysitter in the form of a really good-looking girl.

He fights the temptation to take another gander at the way her hair frames the apples of her rosy cheeks.

“But since you’re already here, how about you fulfil your purpose in life and get me a cup of coffee? Double espresso, no sugar.”

August shoots her a look, observing her immediate reaction. Lacey’s green eyes widen, her mouth slightly opens. She rubs her knuckle between the soft pads of her fingers while thinking of what could be a suitable response to his disrespectful request.

I guess Erica didn’t bother prepping her.

Sloane, the heartless lioness. She leered at him with that sour look on her face since the day he stepped into the building. He swears the woman must have slices of lemons hidden in her panties. There is not even a drop of respect in those dark eyes whenever he sits in her office. Nor does she harbour any trust in his performance on the field.

It all just worsened thanks to Ukraine.

The explosion in the old Soviet power plant killed dozens of innocent lives at the cost of one. Though that man was responsible for the death of thousands, if not more.

If you want to tear down a building, you better use a fucking hammer.

That cunt should thank him and promote him.

“Nothing but daddy’s boy.” That’s what she sees in him. He might as well be another dead CIA agent like his father, then. Erased from memory, his great achievements discredited. At least he doesn’t have a family to throw to the dogs so they can rip them to shreds.

Oh Sloane, if only you knew half of the shit that goes beneath that stuck-up nose of yours.

Releasing another deep sigh, Lacey slumps to the seat in front of him, crossing her long legs together and leaning back in her chair while grabbing the folder on her desk. Her lips clamp together tightly, trying to hide the saltiness on her face. Long lashes curtain her eyes which pretend to read through the file. August rolls his eyes with annoyance, trying to ignore her existence and continue working his way through a case he’s been reading before she interrupted him.

Yet every now and then his storm-touched eyes peer at the naive-looking woman, observing her and trying to determine how long will she last.

~*~

Is this hell?

~*~

That dusting of freckles on her nose and the fresh shimmer in her eyes give out much softness, yet she is anything but weak. Lacey Hartmann is a shield-maiden of some sort. For 2 months she withstood August’s “boot camp,” meaning she appeared unaffected by his cold demeanour.

At times there is even a hint of a smile hiding beneath that peach shade lipstick when August challenges her with an obscene dark joke. A hint of amusement tints the green of her irises, but she never dares to admit it.

Too coy, almost chaste, yet iron-willed.

August finds her behaviour borderline masochistic as he continues to prize her with nothing but arctic affection. Even so, she always listens when he speaks, her eyes open with pure intent, a fertile green field in her glance.

Something spikes at the marrow of his bones, intrigue or so. Trivial thoughts find themselves latching into the tunnels of his complicated mind. His CIA brain begins to note her morning routine. A glacial stare registers the vanilla latte she drinks almost religiously every morning at 9, with two teaspoons of sugar. Lacey has a sweet tooth, it seems. She never misses dessert at the cantine and he once caught her bending the rules and sneaking candies back from their previous mission at eastern Europe.

He also noticed how when she is nervous, she twirls a finger in her hair with agitation and chews her plump lips.

Blue is another point of interest. The colour seems to be dominant in her attire and accessories for some cryptic reason, though. not obsessively. She wears black or grey but then ties a silk scarf the shade of the sky around her delicate throat. When she is having a bad hair day, it’s the red pencil suit that draws attention to her body instead. The combination is horrifying when she sits in front of him holding her favourite mug which is glittery cerulean.

He begins to wonder about her life outside of the headquarters. Her file rested in his apartment for weeks yet only recently he found himself bored enough to peek inside and read about her personal life. No husband is listed under her marital state, yet he wonders if a woman as attractive as Lacey has a man waiting for her at home. Someone kind, he imagines, and pitiful. She looks like a woman lacking a strong man in her life.

“Are you going to finish that?”

August’s brows furrow as she cuts into his adventurous trails of thought. His glassy eyes pierce at her as she sits in front of him at the cantine, sharing a lunch table. He hardly speaks during lunch anyway, and only listens to her musings with the usual sulk on his face.

Lacey appears slightly frightened when she sees his menacing expression, yet her fright melts into a soft blush and a coy grin, in an attempt to pacify him. He nudges the plate with a slice of chocolate cake in her direction.

“No, go ahead.” he watches as she digs her fork into it with excitement, her eyes shutting with near orgasmic pleasure as the chocolate melts on her tongue.

His mind continues to wander, offering him possible imaginary visions of her personal life while she mumbles something in the background about the cake being outrageous.

Her home address would be in that file too.

It’s nothing but idle curiosity, after all.

~*~

You don’t believe in hell.

~*~

It’s been over 6 months of enduring her by his side. August imagined she’d run off crying to Sloane 2 days after being forced into this partnership, but she keeps a vow of secrecy, even when he bends a guideline or two during missions or violates nearly every HR policy. At first, she would warn him about his behaviour, but now she just calls it “The Walker Way”.

It almost feels like he has a partner in crime.

They arrived in Sicily a night ago, their mission is to locate and capture a millionaire-turned-terrorist and bring him in for questioning. It’s a high profile target, which means the CIA spared no expense providing them with the finest hotel suites and fancy attire to attend a gallery opening. An informant suggested the suspect might be doing his bidding at the same mansion.

Lacey meets August at the hotel’s main parking lot, wearing a cornflower blue mermaid-cut gown. Threads of silver adorn the outlines of her cleavage and little pieces of sparkling glitter draw his attention to her bust. He doesn’t attempt to hide the way his eyes fixate on her breasts. Beaming at the pale pink fat of her bosom before his gaze finally wanders to meet her face, giving her his regular cocky stance.

Is she wearing a bra underneath?

“You look handsome,” Lacey compliments, swallowing a complaint about the obvious way he objectified her. “We look as if we’ve matched colours.” The royal blue three-piece suit brings out the ocean in his eyes and she allows herself to dwell in the calm water as she glances back, offering him a smile.

Stoic, he ignores her praises, studying her face quietly. The shade on her lips is not the usual one; it’s darker, making her look more vamping. He doesn’t like it, her natural appearance is sweet and supple, and this colour clashes with her complexion and the concept of her in his mind.

The unnerving silence between them greatly challenges her. The need to crack the autumn evening air with some sort of dialogue pans in her chest.

“Are you…” Lacey begins speaking when her eyes squint at the region of his mouth. “...growing a moustache?” Bold fingers reach up, ghosting over his upper lip where a few days’ stubble seems to grow longer than the rest on his jaw. August cocks his eyebrow as the tips of her fingers almost touch his mouth. She notices his disapproval and pulls her hand away apologetically.

“For the mission, I thought it might make me look older.”

An amused smile cracks on her face, her cheeks rounding up to perfect blushing circles. “The real Mrs. Walker would be mortified.”

August scoffs, rolling his eyes at the notion before turning away to watch the cars that pass by. His hand rests on his chest, straightening the vest underneath his suit and stretches the muscles of his back. A timid-blowing zephyr caresses his face; his Adam apple rises and drops dryly in his throat.

“Is there a…”

“Oh c’mon, Hartmann! You know the answer to the question, don’t act stupid and play small talk with me, it’s not your style.”

Lacey’s lips press shut together, her green eyes dropping to the floor. She knows the only Mrs. Walker is his mother, and Madeleine has been gone for a couple of years now. Everything is in his file, allowing her to learn about the “mundane life” August Walker leads, or at least the ones he allows her to see through her CIA spectacles.

It was an obligation to do the same with her. His old man once told him to learn who he’s dealing with before opening his “goddamn mouth.” That’s all there is to it, and his curiosity if he has to admit it.

Lacey Hartmann lives alone with her cat, Sir Podrick, on Hampshire St 457 on flat number 45. A magazine two-room apartment, picture-perfect, tidy to the point of OCD. She has an older sister but they rarely see each other. On her free weekends, she loves to watch romantic comedies while drinking hot chocolate with tiny marshmallows.

He often wonders if her sweet tooth is compensating for something missing in her life. Yet there is never a man in her apartment.

Sometimes she dances in front of the window, especially after a hard day at the office. He can’t tell which music is playing in her headphones, but the way she moves her body makes him believe it’s something upbeat and cheerful.

The images of her bedroom window vanish as a slightly irritating thought peaks in his mind at her comment. Mrs. Walker. A hiss of violent air shoots from his nostrils.

Relationships were not something he cared to pursue. Life had other offerings.

Besides, the women he liked were too tender and he was too rough. So, his conquests never lasted more than a night.

Agitated, he pulls his sleeve to look at his Rolex, muttering something obscene under his breath which makes Lacey shift uncomfortably on her feet. The driver should have arrived by now. Every car that parks at the pebbled road bears disappointment, dropping off more honeymooners and rich, older married couples.

A soft smile breaks on Lacey’s painted lips while she stares at August who’s facing the driveway with his fists clenched at the sides of his body.

“Well, since we’re stuck here waiting for a ride, you better entertain me.” Lacey speaks with grace, not a hint of nervousness or fright in her voice. She learnt how to deal with August and his tantrums by now.

August remains silent, his sight never breaking from the driveway and the alley of palm trees that pave the path.

“Or I guess we can stare at the big full moon,” she says to herself, lifting her eyes to the clear sky.

August stares back at the golden-haired woman, her long lashes fluttering gently as she counts the stars in her mind. A naive glint sparks her eyes as she’s captivated by her own fascination. The pale blue of the moon reflects on her milky skin, making her look like a siren in her beautiful dress.

“Yeah, it’s lovely,” he says in his deep voice.

*~*

And even if it existed, hell wouldn’t have you.

*~*

The expo is held at a royal mansion of some sort. A large Sicilian palace that is owned by an ageing millionaire. Golden floral embellishments spread across the azure velvet walls, shimmering at the lights of the crystal chandeliers which dangle in the halls.

Various ancient trinkets are placed in glass cubes. Crudely-made bows and arrows that were carved from cheap wood by a half-brain neanderthal are offered for the price of 200,000,000 Euros.

Ridiculous.

Keen on finding their target, both August and Lacey decide to split up upon their arrival, planning their strategy ahead by protocol. August is the striking image of professionalism tonight, stretching his gaze around the large hallway. He has been this way for the last several missions, working by the book, making sure to perform as clean as possible, whatever that means in CIA terms.

He even managed to win a word of praise from Sloane, who still can’t stand the very sight of his face. But at least she ceased from eating his head at the conclusion of every mission.

And Lacey seems to appreciate it, too.

The brooding man spends the night pretending to be enthralled by the exhibition and its boring guests who continually attempt to strike pointless conversations with him. As part of his task, he only speaks with those who seem to be an asset and brushes others away by answering in fluent Italian, pretending to not understand a word in English while smiling at them politely.

Blending in, the young agent stands by one of the bars, leaning onto the marble counter and enjoying some type of strawberries-in-cream dessert which was offered to him by a tall, abnormally attractive waitress who’s been walking around with a silver tray.

Lacey would love this fruit-pudding thingy, he muses as his fingers brush through the mid-length stubble above his lip. His eyes carefully scan the room for any group of men in their late 30s for a clue or a sign.

The sound of a woman’s laughter chips away his attention like a siren’s call.

So that’s how she sounds like when she laughs.

Grabbing a glass of champagne, he steps forward on the black carpeted floor, following the cheerful voice as it rolls delightfully in his ears. Storm clouds gather in his eyes. The siren is behaving unprofessionally to the point of being offensive. A tall glass of half-empty Lambrusco hangs between her slender fingers while her head falls back; her hand rests on her chest, trying to contain her laughter.

She is the centre of attention to a group of famished men.

August frowns with disapproval. She’s supposed to act drunk, not get buzzed. Standing at the large pathway, he watches how she smiles widely, mouth gaping, small dimples peeking at the corner of her lips. The honey of her hair makes her stand out in a room of dark beauties, the shade of her dress an anchor for any travelling eyes.

He takes an irritated sip from his champagne, swallowing the sparkly liquid, trying to ignore the bells of laughter which begin to sound like an insult, meant to provoke him. His piercing eyes search for the target in the room, focusing on the task on hand and being the professional his father urged him to be.

Yet as if magnetized, his glare returns to her.

For a moment there he nearly forgets that she is a CIA agent. The men around her flirt nearly barbarically, their mouths salivating with predatory hunger. Is she too pure to understand their intentions? The vultures are waiting to tear her limb by limb. Possibly hoping she will be drunk enough to be dragged by one of them.

The storm inside him rages. Thoughts of her being tainted by one of these hideous men enter his mind and poison bubbles in his throat, drowning him in anger.

He puts his champagne flute on the tray of one of the hostesses who passes by. He fixes his tie over his neck and swallows hard. His strides are confident and charismatic as he marches into their circle abruptly, reaching an arm over to Lacey.

“Sweetheart, here you are. Come see this piece, you’re going to love it.” hee speaks with contained anger, his baritone loud and clear, roaring through his puffed chest and squared shoulders.

Lacey turns to smile at him as he latches his fingers around her forearm, rescuing her by pulling her away from the predators with as much elegance he can muster at his current aggravated mood.

“Are you fucking drunk, Hartmann? What’s wrong with you?! We have a dangerous man to catch.” He whispers angry and low in her ear, carrying her toward an open terrace where they can discuss and re-strategize the mission.

The cool breeze caresses their faces, tenderly running through their hair as they approach the open air. The young woman continues to giggle as August’s fingers tickle beneath her armpit while he takes her to stand next to the large renaissance modules that hide them from the guests of the event. He lets go of her forearm, looking down at her with a scowl.

“Relax, I was trying to make it look convincing with these decadent, empty idiots.” she attempts to pacify him, looking up into his eyes, her head reaching just beneath his square chin.

“Isn’t it ridiculous?”

“What is?”

“The way they sell these artefacts on such a high price when it was created by a primitive creature who ate his own fleas,” she mocks with a mischievous smile. “This is the end of human culture, this capitalistic point of view.”

A cold shiver crawls at August’s spine as he hears her speaking of his ideals. He had never seen her this way before.

So opinionated, so bold.

Has she been reading my mind?

They have never been this physically close, he can smell the lupines on her skin and the Lambrusco on her breath. Lacey’s amused grin begins to relax somewhat, her eyes now staring at something with stark fascination.

“You have a brown spot in one of your eyes.”

August brow furrows even deeper, dark lines forming between his thick eyebrows as the woman ogles him in a bizarre way. His blood thickens as the pleasant wind brushes at his face.

“Sectoral heterochromia, I was born with it.”

“It’s beautiful,” she answers with an enchanted glare, batting her lashes and moving further to study the shape of his flaw. Her feet arch to the tip of her toes, reaching higher to his face. August remains still, watching as if within a haze when her lips crash onto his.

Chills spiral through his nerves, his eyes wide open as her soft lips press into his in a long, chaste kiss. There is a small hum in her voice, painted lashes look like black curved trails as her eyes shut with an enchantment. For a second he can feel her body press into his, her breasts grinding at his broad chest. She slowly detaches from him, opening her eyes and falling flat on her feet.

Alarm spills onto her face, her hand covering her mouth with guilt as panic surges. August stares back without a sign of emotion on his arctic face.

“I’m so sorry!” She calls out in utter embarrassment, moving away from him by a step.

His breath grows rigid, his mind a war. In an instant, he pulls her wrist away from her face and claims her into his grasp, kissing her earnestly, even violently. Lacey’s moans melt into his mouth, her body crashing into his, writhing as her lips gape, accepting his insidious tongue.

She tastes like sugar.

August slams her against the wall, growling as her hands roam down his body and messing his outfit. A fervent stir tingles at his groin and the way she squeezes the muscles of his behind and tries to shove her hands under his trousers does nothing to relax his racing heart. Depraved, his hand pushes between her legs, trying to cup her heat through the tight dress, yet it cages her legs too tightly.

“I want you out of this fucking dress.” August growls, breaking the passionate kiss to breath hot and heavy in her ear.

“Then take me back to the hotel.” she retorts breathlessly, grinding her pelvis into the growing hardness in his groin.

“We can’t, the mission.”

Lacey emits a frustrated huff, sounding as if she’s meaning to beg as her body constantly pushes into his in a snakelike dance. “Forget about him, he’s not here, we’ll do it the Walker way.”

There is nothing in this world strong enough to convince him otherwise as those big doe eyes peer at him with admiration and a sense of need he never received from any woman before. It wasn’t like the women who begged him to fuck them as he tormented and delayed their release.

For the first time in his life, he felt purely wanted.

~*~

The ride back to the hotel is the most dreadful experience he had to endure in his life. Both Lacey and he sit at each side of the car, avoiding eye contact whilst their organs throb with aching need. She keeps her fingers laced together while the driver listens to some old Italian love song and sings along the tunes on the radio. August attempts to avoid drowning into his thoughts but the idea of having her tonight makes the blood pool hot in his loins.

They hardly make it into her room. Exploiting every moment left in solitude to make out like horny teenagers. Whenever a hotel staff member or a guest passes by, they break away from one another in the most obvious manner.

As they finally arrive at the suite, August kicks the door shut with his foot and preys at her, his talons reaching for her face, his thumb wiping off whatever remains of her lipstick before kissing her again.

“I don’t like this, it isn’t you.” he states in between invigorated kisses while Lacey battles to take off his clothes, pushing the blazer off his shoulders and then working the buttons of his vest and shirt with lust guiding her fingers. She ignores his remark, answering with another breathless kiss instead while moving to fumble with his belt.

Their feet kick at one another as August leads them toward the king-size bed, fondling the curves of her body through the terrible prison that is her dress. His long legs nearly lose their balance as she successfully unzips his trousers and finds him fully erect and pulsating in her small hand.

Logic turns to steam at the manipulation of her hands. His gasps resonate through the length of his throat, giving in to the whispers of his heart. How long yearned for her, wanting to keep her in the birdcage of his vision.

Lacey, so bold yet so sweet.

With the swiftness of his hands, he turns her around, tugging at the zipper of her dress while dotting her collarbone with possessive nibbles. Her naked figure unveils to him as a flower opens to the sunlight of spring.

Left in nothing but her baby-blue lace underwear, she steps out of her dress and moves to face the large naked man, pacing back as he sneaks toward her like a direwolf. The look on her face is admirable. Drenched of fear and desire at once, feeding his natural dominance.

“August…” she whispers his name. Her lips quiver at the sight of his broad form, appreciating every sinew, every muscle. August reaches to hold his cock as the blood stirs into it with rage, wanting to be inside this angel, to taint her and mark every piece of skin.

“I don’t have a condom.” he warns, licking his lips as she slides her underwear down her long, creamy legs. Her mound is completely waxed, just the way he wants it. Pure.

“I’m clean and protected.”

Inviting him into her mysteries, Lacey offers him a devoted stare and reaches her delicate hand toward him. No clarity is left in his mind; desire clouds every rational thought, every self-preservation instinct. He ignores her hand and lunges at her like a predator.

They fall into a sea of silken sheets together, August covering her body with his, giving no care of how his weight crushes her. His hands hold her wrists pinned to the mattress as he pushes her smooth thighs apart with his knees.

Lacey’s moans are mesmerizing as he sinks himself into her wonders. Singing her pleasure at him like a true siren. An overwhelmed groan breaks from his own lips as the wetness of her flesh encloses around his cock, sucking him from within with an embrace of lust. Soft and delicate, she writhes against his crude, rugged body and he thrusts inside her with teetering grunts, taking her with sheer, primal dominance.

She feels different, like no other woman he ever had before. Completely submissive to his darkest desires. Her body opens to him, like a precious, heavenly nymph and he takes what he wants. Deeper and deeper, drowning into her womb, never wanting to stop, invigorated by the way her hands clutch at his body with the same desperation that is in his chest.

For three days, they never leave the suite. Lost in a carnal euphoria that makes both of them forget the existence of the outer world.

~*~

Oh, hell indeed exists, it’s on the earth you walked your entire life.

~*~

The delicious aroma of crispy, caramelized bacon and fluffy pancakes tickles his senses to wake up. Salty and sweet, the scent draws him to sit upon the bed that’s slightly too small for his wide frame. A drowsy smirk crawls onto his face. This scent is his second favourite thing to wake up to.

Locating his cobalt trunks on the floor, he hauls himself out of her bed, pulls them on and tries to tame the messy bundle of curls on his head while he walks to find her in the kitchen. The bacon sizzles on the pan as Lacey stands next to the stove in his buttoned-up shirt. She is flipping an impossible quantity of pancakes and frying strips of bacon in another pan.

Her rounded ass peeks at him with every shift her body makes.

August sneaks behind her with the skill of a CIA agent, looming closer and wrapping his arms around her torso, his chin resting on the top of her head, while his hungry eyes feast on the pancakes and amber bacon.

Lacey flinches in his grip, he can feel her heart jump for a moment before she relaxes into his embrace, lips melting into a wide smirk as August rocks her from side to side.

“Morning,” she hums delightfully. “Go sit, there is freshly brewed coffee waiting for you.”

August drops a kiss on the top of her head, a low growl of serenity climbing up his throat. “You’re a dream, princess.”

And you’re all mine.

With a wisp of unwillingness, he detaches from her and walks to the table, where Lacey’s favourite mug of coffee awaits him with steam rising from within. His eyes are a calm sea sparkling at the sunrise as he looks at her with admiration.

Everything about her tips him across the edges of sanity; the way she smiles at his horrible dark jokes, the way she listens to everything he says with devotion and appeal, the way she speaks about her ideals and sees him like no person ever did before.

Lacey turns her head and sneaks a small glance at him, giving a smile and a wink before returning to the stove.

It took 5 months to admit to himself that he likes this, that he enjoyed being here, with her and her stupid cat, or in every distant location in the world. It didn’t matter if they were in Afghanistan or Paris, as long as he got to listen to her breathing in her slumber. That night in Sicily wasn’t just mindless sex. It was a union of two souls. They spent the night talking and while he was reluctant to open up-as he still is-he was stunned to find out just how much this woman shared similar points of views.

Though she never says it specifically, Lacey wants to watch the world burn.

He hasn't even told her about his idea, not yet. It’s probably too soon anyway as he only started formulating his intention a couple of months ago. A part of him still fears how she may react if she finds out he’s been selling CIA secrets and dealing weapons right beneath Sloane’s nose.

“I hope you’re hungry,”

Lacey calls out as she places two large plates of pancakes and bacon on the table and walks quickly to get the maple syrup from the counter. Sir Podrick jumps on the table as she puts the syrup next to the plates. Aggravated, August shoos the cat away and reaches to grab the woman's forearm, forcing her into his lap possessively.

“You know I am, princess.” he murmurs as he kisses her shoulder and then her lips, before grabbing a piece of pancake and some bacon with his fork and nibbling it deliciously. Lacey remains on his lap, grabbing a stripe of bacon from his plate and chewing on it with a pleasant moan before directing her gaze to August.

“How long do you think we can keep this a secret?” she asks, slight concern appearing on her face. August swallows the remaining pancake in his mouth and sips some coffee to clear his throat. His fingers thread through the gold of her hair, combing the large waves repeatedly.

“I don’t want them to take you away from me.”

His voice is nearly that of a child.

The agency’s protocol won’t allow partners to be in a relationship due to an incredible conflict of interest. “Sloane would lose her shit if she’d find out this entire time we’ve been doing this.” He chuckles dryly and shoves another piece of pancake into his mouth while still looking at Lacey. The first morning rays shine through the wide-open window, basking her face with a shimmering summer glow.

“We can run away,” she teases. “Buy a yacht, tell Erica to go fuck herself and sail the sea.”

August smirks, his hand descending to the small of her back as images of embarking to the great unknown with her fill his chest with euphoric bliss.

A daydream, perhaps in the future, after mankind is free.

“I think she’s beginning to warm up to me though.”

“Well, she did start calling you The Hammer after the last mission.” Lacey answers and grabs the mug from August’s side, stealing a mischievous sip. “If only they knew it has a different meaning to some of us.”

August crooks his eyebrow up at Lacey and wipes his moustache clean. His hands reach to tickle the sides of her belly, causing her to let go of the mug before he snatches it back. Her giggles make his heart feel at ease, something he’ll never dare to tell or show her.

Asserting his dominance by only giving as much.

“Why did you join the agency in the first place? You never told me.” she wraps her arms around his shoulders, the green of her eyes appearing yellow at the ray of sunlight that beams on her face.

His gaze falls upon the table, staring at the remnants of the pancakes while licking his teeth. Thoughts of his past begin to echo in the chasm of his mind.

The day his mom fell to her knees and let out a banshee-like howl of agony at the empty ceiling as two agents came into their house.

He was 13, and from that moment on, he was all alone in a cold, ravenous world.

“I wanted to die for the government, just like my father.” he spits out, thinking of how his life turned over one autumn morning. A tall, lanky boy who couldn’t even comfort his mother as she tore off tufts of her hair.

August didn’t even cry, not since then.

The curious look on Lacey’s face fades into sadness, compassion welling on her now golden-green irises. “You never told me how he died.”

A muscle twitches in his cheek, his eyebrows knitting together as anger begins to slightly boil his blood. “Like all heroes, forgotten. I don’t know how, it was during a mission in Moscow. Nothing in his files but a mention on an accident, no details other than that.”

“Is that why you have such small faith in the government?” Lacey asks innocently, referring to their pillow-talk. The ones they have while she presses her soft cheek to his chest and draws invisible circles onto his chest.

The lump in his throat dries as he remembers the weeks that followed after his father was gone. They were thrown to the dogs to be gnawed at. No compensation, no financial support, and no one to comfort young August.

His mother couldn’t even look at him anymore. Those blue soulful eyes, the cleft of his chin, and even the shape of his nose were inherited from his father.

The most pain August has ever endured was when someone he loved was unable to look at him anymore.

Madeleine was a loyal housewife from the midwest who never took a real job. Arthur provided for them. While he wasn’t the warmest father, he kept his family close, taking them with him on his trips, unless they were too dangerous.

By the time August was seven, he’s already been to all continents.

After his father’s death, both the money and his mother withered away. Having no experience in anything but waiting tables, Madeleine couldn't support her own child and perhaps she didn’t want to. The boy was a painful memory of what she lost.

The last he remembers of her, she dragged him with her to church and went on her knees as August sat on the bench. She prayed and cried out to God until her knees bled and her eyes rimmed red from the tears she wept.

But God never answered.

That week, social services arrived at their door. He never saw her since that day and needless to say, no one wanted a hostile 13-year-old boy.

August turns his face to stare at Lacey, examining her round, freckled face and her plump, pink lips. They make her look like a renaissance painting of an angel. At times, he’s afraid that his rage will tarnish her, swallow the light of her spirit. Yet he can never hold back, fucking her so roughly, she hurts for days. His instincts drive him to spill all his fury into her cavities. To offer all the spite and hurt that poisoned his soul, as if it will cleanse him.

And for a few seconds, he is sanctified. Coming inside her makes him feel complete in every sense of the word.

The soft purring of Lacey’s cat grounds him to reality. The chubby ginger cat rubs around his leg affectionately, his yellow diamond eyes staring at August.

“Let’s not talk about it, anymore,” he replies in a somewhat final tone.

Lacey nods at him, giving him a look full of understanding. Her fingers reach behind his ear, stroking the soft chocolate curls and tucking them back. “Okay, Aug. But we really need to talk about that!”

Her fingers move to point at his thick moustache, her eyes narrowing with disdain.

August strokes his moustache with his thumb and index finger and lets them slide down the stubble of his square chin. “You don’t like it?”

Lacey shakes her head with protest, trying her best to appear irritated. “No.”

Princess is so cute when she pretends to be angry.

August offers her a smug smirk in return, grabbing the last remaining piece of bacon from his plate and sliding it whole into his mouth. “Too bad, it stays.” he answers with his mouth full, grease smearing on the corners of his lips. “It makes me look dangerous and you love it.”

“No, you look like pornstar.”

“I’d fuck you like one.” he answers with a dark glint in his eyes. In a sudden movement, he places both hands on Lacey’s waist and stands up with her in his grip. The woman squeals with surprise as he flings her over his shoulder with little to no effort and stings her ass with a sharp slap.

“Do you want it here, sweetheart, or in the bedroom?” he asks and bites the fat of her behind. Lacey cries out in pain, her legs kicking the air.

He loves to hear her laugh, just as much as he loves to hear her scream.

*~*

If hell is on earth, then what does it make you?

*~*

Like a creature dwelling in the darkness, he sits in the bleak hours of the night, fingers stroking the keys as if he’s a composer, conducting his symphony of destruction. The flesh of his lips chafe at the lack of sleep and insufficient fluids, yet he gives no care.

This will be his legacy, his gift to the world, his gift to her.

The pale teal light of the screen flickers lightly on his weary corneas. It’s nothing but pixels, black on white, five blocks of paragraphs for now, but the raw power in words proceeds beyond any other weapon known to mankind. So pure, so cataclysmic.

Just like an atomic reaction.

She will see through his eyes soon. The potential, the greater good. All her words of breaking the system, about dreaming of a better world. A sweet, naive girl with a mind fed with agenda. It was as if they were threaded into one another’s life, destined to be.

The paving of a new world has already begun. They call themselves the apostles, a group of no more than 12 people, men and women of science and power. Their identities are unknown among one another. It matters very little, the seeds have been sown into the earth. Small acts of terror, biological and chemical incidents around selected locations around the globe, just enough to test the waters.

Greatness from small beginnings.

It will take time, yet he is patient, and his little angel of destruction will be by his side once the time is right. All mankind will be reunited in peace after the earth will shudder beneath their feet.

~*~

Does it make you a monster?

~*~

Something sharp prods his mind to wake up. A nightmare, whispering toxic words in the darkness. He hears a vague ruffle in the webbed darkness of the night and he blindly reaches his palm to stroke her and finds himself abandoned. There is a knot in his gut and a storm brewing in his mind. Carefully and silently, he reaches for the loaded gun in his nightstand and slips out of bed.

Pale blue and humming, a soft light invites him to follow to the office next to his bedroom. His heart drums heavily in his chest, his face falling as his vision becomes clear. Bright pink winks through the molten mixture of shadow and light. She hovers over his open computer, spreading files and paper plans over the surface of his desk, all the while holding her digital camera, violating his secrets.

Whatever is in his chest shrieks and bleeds with misery.

“Would be more efficient if you’d switch the light on.”

The woman jumps as she hears his voice and a heavy flood of bright light showers her crimes as August flicks the switch on. She straightens up, as stiff as a frozen tree. Unable to face him right away, her face remains hidden from him. August can see the spasm of her legs beneath her nightdress.

“What are you doing?” August asks, his voice low and menacing, eyes travelling from the Nikon camera that hangs from her hand to his secret scribbles as they lay on his desk, right next to his open manifest.

“Look at me.” he demands, stern and composed as he can.

Lacey turns slowly to peer at him, her lips aquiver, eyes shining with guilt. The only sound from her is the shudder of her breath that rushes through her heaving chest.

The hurt must have blinded his thoughts. He doesn’t remember aiming his gun at her head, it’s only when he sees the woman’s surrendering gesture does he register his actions.

Taking a deep breath, he lowers his gun and places it carefully on the floor. His hands splay in the air, disarmed, offering a truce as he stretches to stand straight.

“Was I…” he swallows the dryness in his throat and licks his lips.

It would take a real fool to be so blind to see what was in front of him the whole time.

“I was your mission?”

Lacey remains quiet, her eyes refusing to meet his. Tears glide down the apples of her rosy cheeks.

“Tell me the truth Lacey, please. I just want to understand.” The threat in his voice turns soft, becoming nearly a plea as he takes one step forward, watching the woman flinch and step back, her behind colliding with the desk.

The woman weeping in front of him is a trained CIA agent, yet the despair in her eyes shows no signs of panning struggle. The only way out of this room is through him, a man who is nearly twice her size and knows her every move.

“Erica suspected you’re the one who is leaking secrets, so she sent me…”

That’s why she inquired so much, wanted to hear his thoughts, to sleep at his home despite his reluctance. He agreed for the first time tonight, unaware of her insidious intentions.

Did you really think you deserve this?

August scoffs, his heart clenching painfully in his battered lungs.

He was wrong. There is something more painful than having someone you love never look back at you.

“Did she tell you to sleep with me?”

Lacey’s gaze drops to the floor in silence; her answer is nothing but a pathetic sniffle as she pinches her nose.

Bile rises in his throat as he sees shame on her face, so obvious, so obscene. Her purity was false.

There was nothing sweet or innocent about her, she was nothing but a whore.

“Answer me!!!” he rumbles, more beast than man.

Lacey jumps and sobs with panic, nodding her head at him with her confession. “Ye..Yes… any means possible.”

Running his palm through his face and groaning with frustration, the young CIA agent exhales hoarsely. He takes another small step towards her, gradually closing the distance between them, watching his shadow loom on her porcelain skin.

Lacey’s eyes widen with panic. Her ankles kick back the wooden legs of the desk, her hands scattering August’s belongings. White sheets of paper fly down to the floor, ink smudged by tears.

“Stay away,” she warns.

“Does she know? Did you tell her or anyone else at the agency?” he ignores her pathetic threats, taking another step closer. Her floral scent fills his nostrils, nearly triggering his instinct to claim her lips. His gaze softens with an ocean of mercy as she shakes in front of him so violently, breaking into tears of grief.

Delicate fingers cup her jaw, sliding across the slick moistness of her tears as he tilts her chin up. “Please, tell me the truth.”

Lacey lifts her gaze to meet his, her eyes puffy and red, her plump lips swollen. She wipes her nose with the back of her palm. “I had nothing to report, until now.”

His grasp tightens around her chin, forcing her head back to look at the text flickering on the monitor. “All this talk about a better world, I thought this is what you wanted.”

She snaps her head back to glare at him, eyes narrowing with disgust and anxiety. “You thought I’d like this?! This is sick!”

August’s nostrils flare yet he gives a gentle nod of understanding and hushes her sudden surge of stress. His hand caresses her round, damp face. The thick pads of his thumbs wipe the salty tears away from her skin and his body presses into hers.

Even a tremoring mess, she is still so soft and warm.

“Did you ever love me?”

His lips are merely an inch from her temples as he whispers. His large hand slides down her cheek, stroking down her jaw and descending further below her chin.

Unable to muster another lie, she remains silent, aware of the fact that the sand in the hourglass has all but diminished, along with her chances of survival.

Words are unnecessary. The truth speaks loudly in her eyes, the poisonous infidelity was always there all along. Struck by her angelic beauty he was too blind to see, leeching onto false heaven, a childish fantasy of love that never existed.

Small spots of blood begin to form in her wide-open eyes as his long fingers lock around her thin neck, squeezing with intensifying force. Tighter, harder. His name remains caged in her throat as she fights for the air she thinks she deserves.

“No, you didn’t.” August whispers, his vision beginning to blur. “You never did.”

Strangled yips of pain wheeze through her mouth. Struggling frantically while August hardly even bats an eyelid, staring at her with no emotion on his face. Desperate arms reach out to both heaven and hell, her body squirms and her eyes plead for August to let go.

Begging for her life.

Something breaks inside her throat. Her last breath follows, a short gasp, frozen in her body for eternity as both her heart and her eyes become still.

August glances at her pale skin, her gaping lips stained violet, her bloodied eyes glassy, returning his broken reflection.

Sorrowful tears roll down the lines of his face as his heart pumps with pain black as tar. A loud gasp of agony rips from him, shuddering across his entire existence as the very base of his soul chars in his chest. Broken, he falls to his knees with Lacey cradled in his arms, his hand stroking her dull hair and her blue cheeks while husky cries of anguish come through his throat.

All emotions end. An empty abyss claims the spot where his soul once laid. The only thing left to him now is pure, undistilled hatred.

~*~

I am the one who reigns in hell.

~*~

Black cold liquid seeps into weary lungs. Skeletal hands caress his face unkindly, the thin bones, so hard and frozen as they travel down his grey cheeks. No grace is given to him, no redemption. This was nothing but a dream of a life.

As tar oozes from his throat, her voice continues to call for him.

His last memories are of Erica, sitting on her throne of lies, swallowing his accusations while peering at him through her dark eyes. Face filled with guilt, oh, she didn't have a clue. Everyone believed Lacey Hartmann was the double agent this entire time. Angelic eyes hiding dark secrets. He planted the evidence in her house, in her computer, sparing his manifest of course. Just enough to tarnish her name forever.

A painful wheeze splits his throat. Iron tinged his tongue.

The promotion was won right after the body was cremated. A fine medal given for having his life put at risk.

Glory and fame won over the woman you loved.

I never loved her. She was a lying whore, she betrayed me.

But you did love me, August.

Blood spills through his mouth as he coughs. His blue eyes shoot open, peering at a great hole in the ceiling and the dust that floats calmly in the chill air of night. The pain sears his shoulder, throbbing furiously to remind him there is still blood running through his veins. He grunts as he clutches at the gaping wound, trying to hold onto the blood that still remains in his wretched heart.

Run and hide, little Ingvild

I am no one but Lucifer himself.

I will have my vengeance.

__________________________________________________

Disclaimer: I don’t own Mission Impossible franchise or August Walker

#August Walker #Henry Cavill #The Way to Hell #August Walker Fanfiction #Mission Impossible Fallout #Henry cavill Fanfiction #August Walker x OFC #henry cavill x ofc #Mission Impossible Fanfiction

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we-always-hit-our-ass · 5 years ago

Text

Pecks and Clementines (George Luz x Reader)

Author’s Note: After this, I’ll shortly open my inbox so please stay tuned! I apologize in advance if any of my lovely readers are allergic or dislike clementines hnhh. Also also- I love you guys, that is all.

Warnings: just a few swear words, nothin’ too major +its pretty fuckin long cause ahaha slowwww burn with luz hnghh

Words: 7.1k (my essays are quaking)

Description: A simple interaction shared between you and George leaves him enamored and he finds himself having feelings for you. You soon follow suit. Who knew giving clementines could get you someone as amazing as George?

Taglist: @deldontplay, @thatsonefishyboi,@noneofurbusinez, @meteora-fc, @gutsandgloryhere, @hihosilvers, @rayleighshughes, @floydtab, @wexhappyxfew, @sherlollydramoine, @meganthesunflower, @3milesup, @jamie506101, @sunflowerchuck, @softlieb, @k-websters, @punkgeekchic, @speirs-crazy-ass, @hellitwasyoufirstsergeant, @runtdrummer, @fromtheoldtimes

+if ya wanna be added, dont be afraid to send an ask or dm!

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A gesture was all it took.

What happened wasn’t even something intimate; it was more of a touch that was commonly shared by acquaintances or strangers rather than lovers. To briefly put it, that gesture was just you offering him a clementine. He remembers how he was fixed upon the bright orange clementine in your soft hand, ripe and just begging to be peeled and eaten.

A kind, old woman generously handed you plenty back in England and so you thought you’d share. George was the nearest to you and so he was the first one who received the sweet citrus fruit, something he never thought he’d be thankful for.

Passing it along to him, you thought nothing of the interaction as a mere act of kindness. However it felt like so much more. How an act as simple as that made him burst into flames is an enigma. Not to mention how your hand ever so softly brushed against his. The touch lingering mere moments longer after the deed was done and George couldn’t help but feel just a tad disappointed when it finally disappeared.

He didn’t even know if he felt it... But he did, and with that one coincidental incident--he was hooked. A magnetizing presence was what you had, and like a piece of metal, George was instantly drawn to you.

Who wouldn’t?

There was something unique about you, something he had never seen or experienced before. That moment back in England felt so far away but also felt like it just occurred yesterday. The technician thought about you for weeks, the beautiful and more than capable soldier who put up with the company.

(Y/N) (L/N)... (Y/N) (L/N), he kept repeating in his head, your name ingrained in his head and it spilling out of his lips like a mantra. Thoughts about you in his head bouncing around like how a ball would when thrown against a surface.

The young man couldn’t identify how to describe how he felt, what he was experiencing only categorized as a deep and sensual longing. Of course George knew that it was way more than a passing fancy, for it was exponentially deeper. Complicated were the feelings of love, and George was yet another who got caught in the mystery of it.

His heart fluttered whenever his honey brown eyes laid upon yours, that radiant (E/C) hue that seemed to reveal your innermost secrets yet simultaneously concealing them from the outside world. Of course for the past few months of his newfound attraction towards you, he’d dismiss it as nothing serious.

But one cannot plainly deny fate and George soon accepted that fact. Now, he made more of an effort to see you--to interact more with the woman who’d captured his heart. But moments with you were scarce, making it even more a reason to cherish and savor them for as much as he could.

Easy Company had been staying in Normandy, the events of D-Day all too fresh on everyone’s minds. A break was what they needed and the men indulged themselves in the quiet and peaceful moments before they would move out again. They were stationed in a quaint town where they were now resting.

Perconte was showing off the many watches he had snagged from dead soldiers to Blithe, who was only silent and once again zoning out. Banter was frequent and it comforted the both of you, a homey and cozy feeling enveloping your forms. But all good things come to an end and Welsh had told the company that they would be capturing a town called Carentan. Welsh had just informed the men, who were still tired and perhaps a bit sluggish, that General Taylor would be sending the whole division for this.

“Remember boys, maybe three days and three nights of rough fightin', and you will be relieved!'" George rang out towards the group. The ebony haired man receiving a few laughs and an especially amused look from 2nd Lieutenant Welsh as well. George cracked a smile of his own as he continued.

“Another thing to remember boys, flies spread disease, so keep yours closed.” Laughs were plentiful then, one soldier even jokingly telling him to shut up.

Then… That’s when he heard it--your laugh. George had never heard anything more beautiful in his entire life, and for once in the war, he felt like he was floating his way to heaven. He never noticed you were so close to him, as he was preoccupied mimicking the General himself. George let his jaw go slack and gazed at your twinkling eyes, your lips still stretched in a smile. His own orbs never left your form and while his mouth was parted, no words came out.

“Ello, Georgie, you were imitating Taylor a lil while ago, what’cha mimicking now? A rock?” A devilish grin was on your face and George felt himself heat up, a light rouge color dusting his cheeks.

You chuckled as you walked alongside him with the rest of the men. The technician’s eyes only widened for a second before reverting to their normal size. “For your information Corporal (L/N), I was imitating a soldier who was left speechless from looking at a beauty.”

After his remark, it was your turn to flush. Turning your head sideways so as to not let George see your face from picking up any more color. Triumphant and feeling a bit proud in himself for making you react like that, George nudged you and you were met with a smirk. You two stuck by each other’s sides as you and the rest of the company kept on marching to their next destination, butterflies in your stomach the whole journey through.

Happiness was what you felt, and you found yourself experiencing them when you were with George. Silence took over you both, it was comfortable and quiet, even if the rest of the boys weren’t. For George, it wasn’t like him to be silent--little did you know that he was only like that because he was far too afraid to embarrass himself.

Prior confidence be damned, the poor boy was reduced to a puddle when around you, and you could say the same about yourself when you were around him too (you were just a tad bit better at keeping your composure than George).

Deciding to strike up another conversation with him, you looked up at him and your two eyes met for a short time before turning back to face forward again. “You all good, Georgie?”

“I’m good.” Warm hazel eyes glanced at your being next to his, the corners of his lips tugging into another one of his dopey smiles.

The way the sun played upon your hair, the beams reflected on it making it seem like you had a halo, and after taking note of that his smile only grew bigger. “Very good, (Y/N).”

And George knew that no amount of his jokes or imitations could hide the fact that he was head over heels.

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

Carentan was nothing short of traumatic, it was something else and the thought of it left a foul taste on George’s tongue. It made him queasy just thinking about it and while he knew these sorts of things would happen, George would rather much prefer if these events were shoved deep in the back of his brain.

A lot of things kept his mind running though, like Skip’s hilarious recountings of what he did in his hometown, Johnny’s quips and sarcastic comments, and Guarnere chipping in his opinion on obscure matters. And of course, how could he forget you sitting right beside him--so close it was almost unbearable. You two joined in whatever conversation the men close to you were having and George felt as if he’d been blessed every time you giggled at one of his jokes.

Then all the sudden Smokey was reciting a poem he had made, much to the chagrin of Talbert and Smith. “Night of the Bayonet” as he had called it, and George exhaled air out his nose the moment he started speaking. Talbert and Smith were good-natured about it though, and every time Gordon finished a rhyme, a chorus of light chuckles followed. It was amusing, seeing one of your fellow soldiers like this and you were grinning throughout the entire thing.

“Never knew Smokey was Shakespeare.” You comment under your breath, and George perked up almost immediately as soon as your melodious voice flowed to his ears.

“Neither did I, but we’re all full of surprises aren’t we?” George playfully replied, reveling in the smile you sent his way before turning back to the standing soldier. Smokey went on in the background, making everyone in the mess hall chuckle.

Finishing his poem, with a slightly embarrassed Talbert and Smith still trained on his figure, Smokey took off his Purple Heart and announced how he’ll give it to Talbert. The mess hall erupted in whoops and cheers as Gordon handed it to a more than gleeful Tab. The atmosphere was right, and it was all smiles and laughs, how glad George was that Carentan was far behind them. Conversations danced in the air, easily coming out and before George could engage a talk with you, Lipton’s voice filled the air.

Words ceased and heads turned, their attention fixed on the Sergeant.

“Couple of announcements, men.”

“And woman.” George turned his head at you, his head of soft, dark hair taking up most of your vision.

His quiet comment and signature smile made you a bit more relaxed as you had quite stiffened up ever since Lip stood up. You playfully smack his arm and George raises his hands in a faux surrendering motion. The young man sticking his tongue playfully at you as you mockingly rolled your eyes before reverting your attention back to Lipton.

Apparently, their training had been canceled and you wrapped your arms around Babe (the replacement who you and Guarnere quickly got along with) and George briefly while cheering, the latter returning the gesture. Not even a second later, Lipton then announced how their passes were revoked. Smiles turn into light frowns and George’s happy mood deflates, he could feel your arms slowly dropping from his shoulders.

To further add salt to the wound, Easy Company wouldn’t be returning back to England. They were heading back to France, and they had to pack up all their gear and get a move on. Plans you had hoped to do in England were now unceremoniously pushed out of the window, your eyebrows now furrowed hard. You puffed your cheeks out in annoyance and in quiet exasperation as the building turned silent.

George and you exchanged glances at one another, George mouthing ‘what the fuck?’. That made you chuckle louder than you expected and during the Sergeant's announcements, and few men craned over to where you were, giving you a confused glance. Your head dipped from slight embarrassment and you teasingly glared at Luz, who only mouthed back a simple ‘not my fault’, which in return you softly elbowed his upper arm.

“As you were,” and with that, Lipton’s announcements were concluded.

Everybody remained silent for just a little bit longer, seemingly trying to process the new information, but it wasn’t long before chatter rose up. The table, however, was noticeably not the same old happy table they were before. Skip and Luz only looked down and you glanced at black haired individual, thinking of ways to cheer him up.

“Hopefully there’ll be sweet old ladies who give out a store’s worth of clementines in France too,” you said while nudging the technician.

The way you had said was almost wistful, dreamy even, as if you genuinely hoped that you would get at least one of the fruits that you have come to love. Luz immediately mentally makes a note to get you some soon.

George immediately let a wide beaming smile fill his face, his head replaying the memory of you ever so graciously handing him one--the moment where he realized that he had become smitten by you. In a singular moment, you noticed how the whole table seemed to brighten up. What you didn't notice was how George’s gleaming eyes were glazed and a light pink color situated itself on his cheeks.

“(Y/N), of course there’s plenty of them in France. I’m just not sure if they’ll give any to you though.” You feigned hurt at George’s joke, dramatically wiping nonexistent tears as you pretend to not stand George’s presence any longer.

Like a sappy movie, George imitated a heartbroken man and you broke your act, laughing hard at George’s ridiculous imitation. That same warm feeling returned to his chest seeing you clutching your stomach, laughing heartily at something he did.

It was surreal, transcending all human comprehension.

Skip and Martin were caught up conversing on a subject George couldn’t care less about and Guarnere and Heffron seemed to click instantly and they discussed things back in Philadelphia. Recovering from your fit of laughter was no easy task and you begged George to stop messing around or else you wouldn’t be able to breathe.

“You’ll make history Corporal (Y/N), can you imagine--the first soldier to die of laughter rather than a battle wound.”

“And you Luz--the first soldier without a brain to survive a war.”

Proudly smirking at his widened eyes and gaping mouth, it was beautiful seeing it bloom into another one of his charming grins. With no one really paying you two any mind, your smile to George felt different. No longer was it friendly, it felt almost more at that moment. In the frame of just a few seconds, you knew that there was something else.

The chatting in the background kept you tied down to Earth before you could further float away in the moment you and George silently shared. You two were just chatting mere seconds ago, so why now does George look so…? Look so handsome, why now do you only notice that? It was nothing, it was natural to acknowledge an attractive person, and so you paid no mind to that fluttering feeling located deep inside of you.

Clinking from the white porcelain dishes snapped you out of you and George’s reveries and you blinked a multitude of times to get a sense of what just happened. Skip ruffled your hair as if to catch your attention, and it worked.

“The “I’ve-Been-Scared-Shitless-by-the-Ghost-of-my-Great-Uncle” look doesn’t really suit you two.” Skip had said to you as he finished messing up your hair, you turned to give him a deadly look only for it to look like a pout--which he laughed at.

George stood up from the bench and situated himself next Skip before gracefully putting his arms around his shoulders in an exaggerated manner.

“Are you done shitting on the face my mother gave me or is there something else, Mr. Warren ‘My-Dick-was-Baptized-in-the-Niagara-River’ Muck?”

Skip quirked his eyebrows up at George, and a sound that seemed like a combination of a snort and an ambulance left the dirty blonde man. Amused and cheery, the three of you erupt in a burst of subtle chuckles and your exuberant beam dies as you three begin to quiet down.

“Well, if you two weren’t so busy ogling each other, we’re goin’ out already. Need to pack our bags and head out to France, just our luck.” Skip’s thumb pointed to the exit, a steady flow of soldiers already heading out the wooden door.

You grumble quietly, remembering what Lipton had said prior to all this and George couldn’t help but notice your slightly sour mood. Skip was well ahead of you and George, as the both of you took your time getting ready to leave. That same comfortable silence in which you two were so familiar with encompassed you both, but it was slightly dampened from that inconspicuous frown you brandished on your lips.

Finally standing up and smoothing down the wrinkles that have accumulated on your skirt from sitting down, your gaze fell to George. He was patient and didn’t mind waiting for you, but on his face a concerned expression makes itself known.

You attempted to reassure him with a smile, which only seemed to make his eyebrows furrow more. Walking towards the exit and subtly pushing your way through the soldiers by the door, you spoke up about your worries and frustrations.

“I’m just upset, y’know?” Your hands gestured to yourself before falling limply to your side, the both of you subconsciously walked back to the barracks--already having memorized the path to it.

“Oh wow, who would've guessed? Jesus Christ (Y/N), your frown is as noticeable as Malarker’s hair.”

George’s response made you blow out air from your nose, your tense soldiers relaxing before they went stiff again. The raven haired technician placed a reassuring hand on the back of your neck, immediately relieving you.

“But don’t you think it’s too soon?” You questioned him, “We only just got back from Carentan and we lost 65 men there. 65 men, Georgie!”

Immediately hands turned your body to face the man in front of you, and your lips briefly opened from the suddenness. Even after you had already been put forward his hands rested on your shoulders, lightly gripping the fabric of your uniform. Your breathing evened out, no longer the erratic rhythm it took on just a few moments ago. The dirt road you two occupied to the barracks were surprisingly barren, despite the many soldiers who seemed to have been more than eager to head back.

“It’s alright (Y/N), it’s goin’ to be alright.”

“And if not..?” That tinge of desperation in your voice slightly broke something in George and it struck a chord in his heart.

He didn’t want you to be like this--in fear of what the future holds. To see his crush and closest friend look so defeated and frustrated left a deep sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach and he desired nothing more than to see you beam again. Oh how he wanted to just swoop you up and kiss you until nothing other than him was on your mind, but he restrained himself. A genuine look nestled itself in George’s sepia eyes, and his hands loosened their grip on your shoulders.

“Well, you still have me.” A shit-eating grin that exudes cockiness replaced his once serene one. He was obviously trying to cheer you up, and of course it worked.

“Oh, shut up, George.”

“And you think that you saying that will make me?”

Your hand went to playfully shove him, but his arm wrapped around your body, pulling you flush against his side. That same beautiful laugh of yours rang out in the air and the once tense and melancholy atmosphere from just a few moments ago dissipated like smoke on a rainy day. The sun could only hide in shame when it saw your blinding smile and George never felt so happy. Previous negative emotions also washed away, being replaced with a soft feeling of bliss.

You two walked back to the barracks, laughing on the whole journey there. The both of you seemed to forget how you still have your arms hanging around each other’s forms, too wrapped up in the conversation you shared with George. Either way, if you did notice, you didn’t think that you would ever want to let go. And for once you let your mind slip about what will happen in the war.

Like what George said: you did still have him after all.

-----------

Returning back to France wasn’t as bad as you had thought, maybe it was because you now grew closer to the ebony haired technician. Mourmand-le-Grand was a quaint little commune and news said that you’d be occupying the small town until Easy Company received orders for another assignment. For the most part, it was so serene, quite the opposite of what you were actually feeling.

A cacophony of little tiny voices of your head screaming at the same time and a discord and flurry of emotions swirled in your chest--restless thoughts about George occupied the space of your brain, turning it into a pig sty of complicated feelings.

After that day, your feelings for George surged through the roof, and what you thought was just as a simple crush turned into something more. Spending time with George went as usual, but you noticed a few additions. Both you and George acknowledged this, but you two were too unsure of the signs to ever push things forward.

Maybe it was the way your hand was lingering longer on his shoulder, the way George looked at your direction for a few more seconds than necessary, or the persistent emotion that always flourished whenever you were near him. That same persistent feeling that could be compared to honey--sticking no matter what and saccharine sweet.

You two knew about your feelings toward each other, hell you even accepted the fact that you did! But how come you two never did anything else? It was if you two stumbled across a brick wall blocking you both from the next step, and instead of trying to find a way around it or break through it, you two just sat there. It just never picked up, and you really didn’t know what to do about it.

If someone were to tease you and George by calling you two a couple or ‘good match’, the latter would always erupt into flames. You would stammer, denying all claims even if they were so fucking obvious and clear as day-

Malarkey and Skip always pestered you to make a move, for he was as in love with you as much as you were with him. They’d try to goad you to finally make the relationship official, often asking you what were you waiting for. You dismissed their ideas and swatted their suggestions to do so, much to the chagrin of the two. It wasn’t as if you were afraid that he didn’t reciprocate your feelings, you knew he did. It was just…

God, why was it all so complicated?

“I don’t get it (Y/N), I really don’t,” Skip propped his elbows on the wooden table, “What’s the point of waitin’ around, you’re just making it harder for yourself.”

Malarkey scooted his chair closer to you and Skip, deciding to hop on the conversation you two are having, “Yeah, you two are practically a couple by now, why are you stalling?” He added, his flaming hair emphasizing the look of disbelief and confusion on his face.

“Well, it’s going to be weird, George is my friend!”

“He also happens to be a friend,” Skip raises his arms to put air quotes, “who is in love with you!” The blonde man quickly quips back, his hands gesticulating wildly in the air to highlight the absurdity of your predicament.

Not having the energy to respond with one of your own snappy remarks, you let Skip’s words sink into your mind. You exhaled and slowly slumped on your chair, your warm forehead making contact with the cool surface of the table. A groan from the back of your throat left your lips, your two confidants giving each other looks before turning back to focus on your hunched form.

“How about you tell him tomorrow?” Malarkey casually suggests, not noticing the way your eyes grow big.

The question punches you deep in the gut and you struggle to form a cohesive thought for a second. You raise your head to give an incredulous look to Malarkey, “And what makes you think I’ll agree to that-”

“Just think about it, (Y/N). You both still have your weekend passes, right? So maybe you two can have some quality couple bonding time with each other--tell him how you feel then you two can do whatever it is couples do.”

Your head went up at the idea, Malarkey grinning when he saw you do so. Your eyes flickered between Malarkey’s face and your lap, your (E/C) orbs deep in thought. Suddenly your face grew warm at the idea of you and George spending time together, and maybe actually going on a date. (Well technically you two actually went on plenty of dates and things like that, you both were just too stubborn to ever call it them that or admit it.)

“And you won’t even have to worry about the rest of us bothering you two because we’d probably be too shit-faced to.”

Skip let out a cheeky smirk and gave a knowing glance to both you and Malarkey, the both of you playfully rolling your eyes at the man. You contemplated for a few more moments, trying to wrap your head around what you’re going to get yourself into. It was a bit stupid--how you were waiting and putting things on hold. Maybe Skip was right about you making it more difficult for yourself and George. Your fingers and fingernails drummed against the wooden table as you pressed your cheek into the palm of your hand.

The two men only glanced at your figure, still idle on the chair. Waiting for an answer, you finally broke the stale, silent air. You released a breath you didn’t even know you were suppressing and gazed upon the expectant looks on Malarkey and Skip. They were on the edge of their seat, looking like a kid waiting to open their presents on Christmas.

“Fine. Tomorrow. If it doesn’t go well I’m going to replace your bullets with stale bread.”

Your thinly veiled threat, which wasn’t even a threat but more of a joke, didn’t deter Malarkey and Skip from bursting into a fit of cheers. Their loud whoops and shouts made you smile and gave you just a bit of reassurance for the next day. The blond and ginger man could be seen giving each other high-fives and patting each other on the back, clearly they had been anticipating this moment for a very very long time.

You knew these two will never shut up about them being you and George’s wingmen if the date goes as planned.

“Stop moping (Y/N), before y’know it, you’re going to be asking yourself why you didn’t do this sooner!”

You looked at Malarkey quizzically but as soon as you did your expression turned into something of the brightest of smiles. The two of them sunk back into their chairs, clearly proud of their feat of finally convincing you to go on an official date with George Luz himself. Both of these idiots are the both the best and worst things to have ever happened to you.

But you now had a date to worry about, and you prayed heavily for it to go well.

-----------

So that’s where you found yourself currently, fussing over your uniform even if you usually didn’t. Tilting your cap so it rested perfectly on your head and adjusting your tie ever so often. Adrenaline pumped throughout your body and a surge of excitement plowed through your being every few minutes.

You remember the pep-talk your two friends have given you (if you can even call it that, it was just Skip teasing you and Malarkey reminding you to stay responsible like a mother). Their reassuring smiles as they left the door brought a feeling of consolation to your nerve-wracked figure.

“--go get him, (Y/N)!”

“And don’t forget to use a condo-” You never shoved anyone so fast out the door so hard in your life.

“Why can’t you two just hurry up and get drunk sooner?”

Your exasperated tone did nothing to hide your clearly warm and flushed face, but your eyes could’ve most definitely paralyzed the men. Skip and Malarkey chuckled loudly before Skip stopped right in front of the door and took off his cap and bowed. Malarkey soon did the same gesture.

“You wish is our command, m’lady.”

Sarcasm flowed from every pore of that statement and you can only huff in amusement at their antics. The two men rushed to the pub where most of the other soldiers were, their arms raising up to bear you farewell, more words of encouragement leaving their lips. A cheeky grin flashed on Skip’s face as he gave you one last joking middle finger--which of course you returned to him.

Their forms disappeared around the corner and you took all your willpower to calm down your rapidly beating heart.

It was now or never, you had guessed.

Even with the two men always pouring you with comforting remarks and consoling you, your body soon soared above the skies with anxiety once again. Oh, you didn’t even know what you were worried about--you like him and he likes you.

In what part of this date was making you so nervous, you two had done it plenty of times. Perhaps it was because you finally came into terms that you did indeed have feelings for him, for all the other times you were so blissfully ignorant of your special bond with him. Shaking your head to relieve yourself of any more questions, you opted to stay silent for the duration of your wait.

So you patiently waited for George near the dirt road where you had told him to meet you. Your thumbnail was placed between your lips and your left foot drummed against the dry floor in a very antsy manner. Seconds rode on achingly slow, it was if they wanted you to suffer. Maybe this was a bad idea, and maybe he wasn’t going to come after all. Why’d you ever listen to those two? What good ever came from actually paying heed to them? With a defeated sigh, you kicked a pebble near your feet and maneuvered your body to head back to the barracks-

“Hey, (Y/N).”

Fuck.

So you turned slowly, your form still in the middle of trying to walk back. And as soon as you did, you thought you were blinded from the sheer beauty that George exuded. Your voice got trapped in your throat and you swore you forgot to even breathe for the briefest of moments. George Luz, standing in front of you with the brightest smile you ever saw him wearing. Both of your lips slightly parted as you took each other’s appearances in, gawking not so subtly at each other.

If you fainted, you wouldn’t exactly blame yourself--just look at him! His soft and short raven hair picking up light from the sun’s rays, giving it a sheer glow. And that damned smile of his, the same one he always wore--and every time they captivated you, this time was no exception. His uniform was clean and crisp, fitting him quite nicely. All you wanted was to stop time so you had just a moment to gather yourself. Instead of fluttering butterflies, you had a whole stampede of elephants occupying your stomach.

“You don’t look half-bad yourself, Georgie,” The amount of effort you put to make your voice sound presentable, you would’ve squeaked it out if you just let it out.

George only hummed in acknowledgement at your greeting, clearly distracted by your presence as you were with his. Your hands shuffled nervously, catching his eye. And the way your (E/C) gleamed as they always had, and despite you acting so flustered, that same spark you carried with you was noticeable. Your lips were caught between your teeth, and he laughed almost sheepishly when you noted his look. Beautiful… You were so beautiful in his eyes.

Time whizzed by and the date for which you two came for flew over your head. Stammering at the realization, you snapped out of daze and walked forward to stand face to face with George.

Forgetting the basket in his hands, George raised it up for you to see. You didn’t even notice that he had a basket for you, as you were too caught up admiring him. It didn’t even take a second for you to immediately recognize its contents. The vivid orange color of the many clementines that were nestled in the straw basket made you beam. After taking one into your hands and inspecting them, you turned your head to look up at George.

“You remembered! How’d you get these?”

Before his response could leave his lips, you pressed your index finger at his lips--effectively shushing him and making him flush.

“Wait no let me guess-” Your fingers snapped before pointing at him, “An old woman came up to you and ever so generously handed you these.”

George laughed and while shaking his head briefly, and that sent shivers crawling down your spine, and you felt aware of the close distance you two shared. You stepped away cautiously, as to not put attention on your form. George eyed the basket one more time before locking his chocolate eyes onto yours.

“Where’d you get 'em then?”

“Saw a tree down by the road-” Cutting him off you glanced at the orange citrus before playfully shoving George.

Shameless was George’s expression, he even seemed pleased even. You gawked at his nonchalant attitude, and George passed the straw basket to you.

“Oh, George you didn’t!” Strolling to your intended spot with George was filled with quips and chuckles, but you couldn’t conceal the surprised expression you held in your face. Eyes still blown wide and mouth stuttering. George stole these clementines… For you? He surely must be joking-

“Oh yes, I did.”

“George Luz, holy shit, where’s your dignity?” You teasingly questioned him.

While you seemed reluctant and against the idea of stealing the possessions of others, you didn’t even hesitate to let your fingers snatch up a small clementine from the basket.

“I never had any in the first place.” He replied, to which you giggled at.

Finally arriving at the place where you and George had agreed to spend your date at, you plopped yourself on the grass with the grace of a new-born deer. You were quite glad you and the technician decided this to be the place. It was simple, really, just a tree near a meadow. The spot wasn’t that far off from the main road and you had a clear view of the serene commune. The sky was absolutely beautiful, a gorgeous azure color--free of any clouds with the sun blessing you with its warm, welcoming rays.

The basket was set between the two of you, giving you a bit of space. The tree provided you with shade, the rustling of the leaves making for relaxing background noise. You would’ve heard the birds singing if it weren’t for the incessant pounding of your heart--it still manages to run a marathon even after it had surely been beating since the beginning of the day.

While your gaze avoided that of George’s, he was quite the opposite. George rested his eyes on your figure, trailing over your form and taking in every single detail. Adoration stretched across his face as the day continued, the two of you staying in a cloak of comfortable silence.

The clementine from earlier was still pressed snug against your palms, and to keep your head busy, you decided to peel it. Using your nails to shed the outer skin and popping a piece into your mouth, immediately hitting your tongue with the fresh taste. Growing bold, you picked a piece and reached your arm to offer it to George.

As if a movie reeled in his head, he was reminded of the first time he had ever interacted with you. George took the piece in your hand, his fingers brushing against your palm--offering him that same shock as the moment you two had shared in England. Muttering his thanks, he concentrated on how utterly peaceful you looked (even when on the inside, you were practically having all natural disasters occurring within you).

You grabbed another clementine from the basket, and once again offered a piece to George, who only looked pleasantly taken back. Breaking the silence, conversations soon flowed easily, like a stream. Hugging your knees close to your chest, you chatted with the black haired man, laughing and giggling ever so often at one of his stories. No longer the silence you two had shared at the beginning, but rather that same banter and ridiculous back-and-forth you always had with each other.

“Did I ever tell you the story of how I stole the neighbor’s dog?”

“You did what?”

“Don’t worry--I gave it back, naturally.”

Letting his words sink in, you grinned--your lips reaching the corners of your eyes. For a second, you felt slightly guilty for laughing at the whole thing. You raised an eyebrow at him, urging him to tell you more.

But you leaned back, still in disbelief at his words and still finding his antics just a bit amusing all the same.

“Well did I ever tell you the story of how I’m going to smack you so hard, they’ll give you a Purple Heart?”

His soft head of hair turned back in a flurry, his hands flying up to shield his upper arms. Giggling, you reassured him that you wouldn’t.

“I’m only joking, calm down!”

Settling down, George continued the many stories of his shenanigans back at his hometown. You gazed in wonder the whole time, nodding your head absentmindedly at each syllable that spilled out of him. The digits of your hands slowly inched closer to his, George also unknowingly doing the same.

The timbre of his voice and impressions left you breathless, your chest almost hurting from the countless times you let out a long chuckle. The grass felt nice upon the surface of your skin and you resumed your conversation with Luz, until you felt something warm against the back of your hand.

Visibly tensing up, you realized that George’s hand was on top of yours. Slumping and relaxing your shoulders when figuring out, George’s words came out fuzzy. Muffled and incoherent, you no longer paid them mind--instead bringing your fingers to intertwine with his. Your companion stopped speaking, sentences refusing to leave his lips.

Without even having to utter a word, the two of you were drawn to each other. Leaning in closer to close the proximity between you two, the basket placed in the middle was knocked over--the small clementines falling out and rolling a short distance before stopping. The clementines were strewn about, but you and George paid no mind. Tantalizing, his lips were right there in front of you--slightly parted and ever so rosy. And with a burst of passion, you leapt to capture his mouth in a slow peck, one that only lasted for a few seconds.

You did it. You actually did it.

“I love you so fucking much, (Y/n)--”

But before George could even say anymore, you silenced him with yet again another short kiss. Your reply was as clear as day, and George looked so enthusiastic and happy you could’ve giggled just a bit at his reaction if it weren’t for the current ardent atmosphere.

George’s cheeks were warm to the touch, and as you pulled away from the brief kiss he could only watch as you breathed heavily. Silently and deliberately, you leaned in--much slower this time. The peck from before laid forgotten in the fervent kiss you gave him.

Your (S/C) hand resting on the side of his head, cupping his head gently. Fingers that were once only loosely connected were tautly wrapped around her each other, his thumb brushing over the supple skin of your hand. In a moment that lasted for what seemed like forever, when you finally stopped--you only craved more.

It was so feverish and heartfelt, yet so tender and like a feather barely ghosting over the edges of your body.

Was this really the same George you knew all this time?

“Wow…”

That was all George said, he himself finding no words to even capture what he felt earlier. Captivated by you, George let his hands grab onto both of your wrists, slipping them down from his face so he can hold them in his own hands.

Deciding to tease him just a little bit, you smirked.

“Was I really that bad?” The way his face turned from a sappy, adoring look to a flustered emotion gave you happiness you couldn’t really fathom.

“Of course not- (Y/N)... You were-- You were amazing.”

“Real smooth, ain’t cha Luz?”

Still wrapped in each other’s embrace, Luz pulled you forward, setting yiu down on his lap as he wrapped his arms around you. Burying his nose in the crook of your neck, you relished in this intimate moment you shared with George. Sitting dormantly with limited movement, the world went still for a moment.

The early morning turned into a bright afternoon. Scooped in his hold, you pressed compassionate kisses all along the edges of his face, his eyelashes fluttering subtly whenever you did so. With the grass matted around your bodies, George’s voice--like music--peppered sweet and quiet declarations of love into your ear.

As you were about to doze off with the feeling of glee surrounding your head, George leaned forward, effectively knocking off your stupor on his shoulder. Light fingers brushed the skin of a nearby clementine--the rest still dispersed in a small pile. Bringing it up to your half-lidded eyes, you twinkled at the sight.

“Clementine?”

The simple act of you two offering the other the sweet fruit seemed like it was you and George’s own unique way of saying ‘I love you’. Sparing not even a second, you brushed what seemed to be like your 1,000th peck of the day on his nose. A fond feeling bloomed in his chest and he was sure that if he wasn’t already sitting down, his knees would’ve given out then--no matter how many times you did it.

“Of course.”

The cotton white clouds aimlessly moved in the sky as the leaves rustled all the same. There laid two people enveloped in each other’s presence. Silently vowing to forever love each other til the end of time. Chestnut eyes focus intently on your (E/C) ones, an affectionate grin setting deep in you and George’s features.

A clementine is shared, just as how the both of you shared your love with one another. Both of your lips move to meet, the whole world once again stopping as you finally do.

-----------

Author’s Note: (*slaps fic* this bad boy can fit so many words in it) Fucky fucky fuck- wow was that absolutely a long ride. As I have mentioned before, I’m finally going to open my requests really soon (whopeee)! I’m sorry if I sound like a wanna-be poet, my vocabulary and grammar skills do be lackin’. I may have a few mistakes here and there and I also apologize for that.

Hnghh, but I hoped that y’all liked this fic! I love you all for takin’ the time to read it. 😩💕

#band of brothers #band of brothers x reader #band of brothers fanfiction #george luz #george luz x reader #george luz fanfiction #hbo war #hbo war x reader

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