#I really needed to throw a saddle on my horse today
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The Vow Spoken Through Time - Part 12
Daemon x Rhaenyra x Wife!Reader
Series: Series Masterlist
Warnings: MDNI
Tags: marriage, poly relationship, Daemon being hopelessly in love with his wives, Queen!Rhaenyra
Words: ~1.3K
Description: Y/N is having a rough morning. She's fired. She's hungover. She's in a stranger's bed. She's waking up in a new world? She's married?!
Rhaenyra and Daemon's day started normal. Waking up next to their darling wife before tending to their duties. The difference? Their wife is speaking in riddles and has no memories of them.
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Your alarm jerks you awake, and you blindly reach out to find your phone and turn it off. A yelp leaves your lips as you feel someone roll on top of you and throw the now silenced phone across the room.
“Daemon,” you whine, voice raspy from sleep, “what the fuck?”
He sits back, his thighs caging your body in. “What in the hells was that noise?”
“It was my alarm,” you rub at your eyes in an effort to wake up. “I really didn’t want to waste today.”
You push at Daemon’s chest in an effort to get him to let you up, but your husband doesn’t budge at all. “My love, as much as I want to explore your world more and try this ‘pizza’ again, our wife is probably worried sick.”
“I’ll get her a fucking t-shirt then, I want to have a nice latte and give my vibrator one last ‘hurrah’ before I go back to the dark ages-LITERALLY.”
Daemon slings a leg over, standing up to dig out the clothes you had bought for him yesterday. He shuddered as he pulled on the monstrosity you referred to as ‘cargo shorts’ when you bought them as punishment for his comments about modern attire for women.
You smirk as you get dressed. As much as you love your husband, there was something so vindicating about making him dress a little silly. If he had some much to say about jean shorts and crop tops, then he could dress like a dad going to Disney. “You look ravishing,” you tease. Digging through your closet, you slipped on a sundress. Today was going to be a little bit of shopping for the kids and Nyra, as well as working your way through some foods you needed Daemon to try.
Daemon slid on his plain tshirt (you had saved the “Dad of the Year” shirt to give him when you returned). “I look ridiculous,” he complained, “do all men here insist on showing their legs? I don’t like it.”
You snort out a laugh, doing your best to keep it in. Daemon’s eyes narrowed, and he stalked over. His one hand gripped the waist of your sundress, pulling you towards him as the other slipped under. The hem of the dress hiked up as his palm stopped to squeeze your asscheek. “Laugh as much as you like, my love,” Daemon purred, “but I promise I will make you pay for every single joke.” Your laughter dies, replaced by a short moan as Daemon lays a light spank across your asscheek.
“Well then, I guess I’ll just have to make each one count,” you say, winding your hands through his hair. You gently pull at his hair, leaning in to kiss and nibble at his throat. His moan vibrates against you as you kiss up his jawline to his ear. You gently bite at the lobe before pulling away and grinning. “As much as I want to get those shorts right back off, I promised you a fun day in my world.”
“I assure you, my love, it is no hardship to stay inside today.”
You drag Daemon out of the apartment, slipping your hand in the crook of his elbow. “I can’t wait for you to meet my ride, Glenda.”
“You have a horse?”
“Kinda,” you laugh as you lead Daemon to your garage. “I don’t know how much horsepower she gets, but she’s my baby.” You click the lock button and listen for your car. There she is…right where you left her. “She’s not as fun as Caraxes, but she’ll get us where we need to go. She’s probably cheaper to feed too.”
Daemon eyes the Prius warily. “Where is the saddle?”
“Inside,” you say, urging Daemon forward.
“You want me to go inside that beast?!” he hissed. “You’re mad.”
You roll your eyes, unlocking the doors and opening his. “Come on, I’ll let you be passenger princess this time.”
After quite a bit of convincing, you manage to get Daemon in the car and buckled in. He was heavily opposed to the seatbelt, but after a long lecture about road safety, he put it on just to get you to stop lecturing. You rolled down the windows so he could lean out and watch the buildings fly past.
You pulled into the parking lot of a local coffee shop, helping Daemon figure out the release mechanism on his seatbelt. “Would you like something sweet or bitter?” you asked, unsure whether or not he would be familiar with half of the drinks and pastries here.
“I’ll eat whatever you give me.”
“Thanks not an answer, but I love the enthusiasm,” you laughed, giving Daemon a peck on the cheek. You order an iced chai latte with a shot of espresso for yourself and the ‘drink of the month’ for Daemon. After asking the cashier for two warmed pastries, you pay and lead Daemon to a table in the back. He is looking around at all the decor-photos of the owner from 50 years ago, cookie jars, and a wall of postcards.
“Did someone paint all of these?” he asked, pointing towards the photos.
You shook your head, pulling out your phone. “They’re like paintings. You can use a camera or any device with a built in camera.” Turning your phone on selfie mode, you slide into the seat next to Daemon. You snap a pic as you kiss his cheek, and show him the screen. He hums, looking at the picture of you both.
“Nyra would love this,” he murmurs. “Can we bring her a camera?”
“I think we could pick up a polaroid and some film,” you muse. “There is no way to keep a phone alive back there, but a polaroid would work.”
The barista calls out your name and Daemon walks up to collect your order. You watch as he and the young barista go back and forth. “Hey, need any help there baby?” you ask, winding an arm around Daemon’s waist.
“The barmaid here was asking for my number-”
“I am so sorry!” the barista apologized, blushing. “I asked if he had a girlfriend and he said no so I-”
“I don’t-”
“He has a wife.”
You try your best not to laugh a little at the ridiculousness of it all as you take your drink and assure the barista there’s no issue. Daemon and you down your pastries while you try to explain the concept of democracy to a real life monarch.
“That sounds incredibly complicated.”
“I take it Nyra won’t be instituting one in Westeros,” you tease.
“As much as she loves you, not a chance.” Daemon snorts. He stands when you finish your food, offering you his arm. “But that idea for the orphanage reform is something she would love,” he says with a nudge. “Nyra knows you’re getting restless, and has been looking for projects you can head.”
“Really?” you ask excitedly. “You think she would let me?”
“For you? Of course,” he says, kissing your forehead. “Now, you promised me we could pick up some of these ‘legos’ for the kids.”
“Want to try your luck at driving?” you ask with a wicked grin.
“Not at all.”
NOTE: New chapter!!! I am SO SORRY for the lack of Nyra...I MISS HER TOO SO MUCH AND I'M BENDING SPACE AND TIME TO GET HER BC I MISS MY POOKIE/ANGEL!!!!! Anyway, pls enjoy some modern hijinks. Also if you're AT ALL interested in a Logan Howlette x Popstar!OC/Reader story.....I am posting chapter 3 soon (Me and the Devil). They start off disliking each other so YOU KNOW we are gonna have some fun banter. Also, currently writing and hope to have chapter 13 of TVSTT up in the next few days! ~ Lacie <33
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#house of the dragon#house of the dragon season 2#house of the dragon fanfic#hotd s2#hotd#hotd fic#daemon targaryen#daemon x reader#daemon x y/n#daemon x you#daemon x rhaenyra#daemon x rhaenyra x reader#rhaenyra x reader#rhaenyra x you#rhaenyra x y/n#queen rhaenyra
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I had an idea for rip. It’s kinda like the scene from season 1 where jimmy got beaten up by Fred but instead of Jimmy could it be the reader is rips wife and she’s secretly pregnant with their second child and she protects her stomach and then revel to rip she’s pregnant again. You can easily change bits to the story or even add a little bit of smut that’s fine with me .
The Rule Of Fighting…Especially my Wife
Threading my fingers through his black hair Rip broke the kiss pulling himself out of me where we laid under the covers naked. Running a hand over my face I began catching my breath. Moving my other hand over my growing pregnant belly until Rip grasped my hand in his. Rolling onto my side I whispered still not awake even though we woke up in a very pleasing way. “Do you have to go to work today. Can’t we just take a day and lay around the house?”
“You’re daddy wouldn’t like that. Besides I owe him everything for letting me work at the ranch.” He responded leaning forward and kissing me on the head gently getting up from the bed. He shrugs his jeans on and grabbed his black jacket with his hat off the hook.
Holding myself up on my elbow I held the sheet up against my chest even though he had seen me naked already. “Yeah you’re probably right, baby. Hey though where do you think our little Georgie is off too?”
“I ain’t too sure. He’s probably trying to sattle a horse or running around with his grandpa John. I’ll see you later tonight Y/n.” He placed his hat on his head coming over giving me one last kiss going to work.
Getting out of the bed, I ran my hands down my grown belly, looking myself over in the standing mirror we had in the corner of the bedroom. I slide on the pair of jeans that didn't press on my stomach, pairing it with a light orange flannel shirt that was tucked into them. With some light brown boots and a tan cowgirl hat on my head. Heading towards the barn, I grabbed the saddle for my horse about to throw it over until I heard someone make a remark about me entering the room. "Woah, I guess that Wheeler really couldn't let you go, so he just keeps knocking you up."
"I'm sorry do you have a problem with me?" Throwing the saddle over my horse I turned around on my feet with my boots kicking up dust.
My gaze met the appearance of one of the ranch hands who was named Fred if I remember correctly. "I've got a problem with you getting special attention from the boss."
"Your boss is my father, so.." Crossing my arms over my chest, I snipped in a slight tone.
Fred stepped closer towards me, glaring down at me since he was slightly taller than me. "I ain't talkin about your daddy, Dutton. You're sleeping with Wheeler and get off work early and still getting the same pay as we do. That isn't right in my opinion."
"First off, I get breaks more than you because of my five year old son Georgie and are you blind cause at the moment I'm pregnant again. Two, I'm heading to work now Fred - argh!" I screamed when he stomped up grabbing me by my hair yanking me backwards until I elbow him in the face.
He stumbled backwards holding his nose while I spun around on my feet. "You bitch!"
"You don't want to fight me, Fred." I warned him, getting in a fighting stance with my hands into fists ready to go.
Yet the ranch hand refused my warning and came charging straight for me. He tackled me to the dirt before I could really blink. He was throwing punches at me but I was blocking most until he gave a harsh one to my belly and I released a cry of agony. "God damn!" I cursed curling up in a ball for a second with him getting to his feet.
"You need to remember who is stronger here, Dutton girl." He spat down to me.
Sniffing through some tears i glared at him until I swiped my feet underneath his near mine where he topped to the dust. Forcing myself to my feet I held my stomach with one hand landing a good punch on his nose with the other. Fred came back trying to kick my stomach yet I buried my face close against it so he kneed me in the face. My nose begins bleeding where he quickly grabbed my arm throwing me over his back until we heard my son's sweet voice. "Mommy, why are you wrestling?"
"You're boys gonna see how weak you are - ohhh fuck!" Fred groaned in serious pain onto his knees when I kicked him in between his legs giving me the chance to rush to my son.
Grabbing his shoulders I croaked through tears and some pain myself. "Georgie, go find daddy now. Bring him here." He ran off when Fred started getting up until I charged tackling the man even though it was harder when I was pregnant.
Swinging a few punches at Fred I got some of his blood on my knuckles. He grabbed my wrists twisting them behind my back throwing me down again. "I told you I was stronger than you, bitch!" He growled in my ear where he about kicks me in the stomach again until someone harshly shoved his body against the wooden barn stalls.
Gasping for breath and some relief I sat upright seeing my husband Rip had him by the collar where he threw him against the stall and then did it again but it was down in the dirt raising his voice. "What's the rule about fighting, Fred. You wanna fight somebody, come fight me. I'll fight you all damn day!"
"That girl done started it with her saying that she deserves the same pay as we do but cuts out half the work. I guess you'll believe anything when you married a whore." Fred coughed looking at me when Georgie came over by my side.
Rip yanked the guy by his jacket holding him against the wall where he almost couldn't breathe by the choke hold he had on the ranch hand. "What did you call her!"
"She's knows I'm right that's she had to send in the little guy to get the big guns." Fred taunts until my husband kicked him harshly in the gut and he collapsed into the dirt.
He grabbed Fred up one last time against the wall for good measure croaking his deep tone with the words he declared. "If you ever hit or speak to my wife like that again I'll kill you, Fred! Are you okay, Y/n?" He released him from his grasp coming slowly over to me with his gaze softening.
"I hurt a little bit...here especially. But otherwise I think I'll be fine." I mumbled placing my hand in his with my eyes dropping to my pregnant stomach where he tugged me up to stand where he picked me up bridal style when I almost collapsed onto the dirt not able to stand on my own.
He carried me back to our cabin with Georgie following us and opening the door to the cabin, then our bedroom and finally the bathroom. "Georgie, go grab one of my shirts and the shorts off the foot of the bed for mommy." Rip spoke towards our son who quickly came back with what he asked.
"Is mommy going to be okay, daddy?" He asked with worry in his sweet voice.
Rip sat me down on the toilet lowering himself to his knees since I didn't have gotten my balance back yet. "She will be. I want you to go play with grandpa John while I help mommy okay little man." He nodded leaving us alone in the bathroom letting silence into the room.
He slowly tugged on my shirt shrugging it over and off my body giving him perfect view of my belly. "I'm sorry he did this to you..to our baby. I'll take him to the train station tomorrow morning if that's what you want." He placed his on my bump feeling me slightly pull away when he touched the sorest part of my body from the fight.
"Rip, don't blame yourself for this. Fred has always been a jackass from the day my father hired him. I'll go to the doctor and get the baby checked out." Resting my hands on his shoulders I sent him a half smile knowing he would start blaming himself for me getting injured.
He nodded, helping me remove my pants and slide the shorts up. He ran a hand through my hair once I slipped his shirt on that was like a dress on me. "I love you so much, darling. He will never touch you again I swear it." He softly took me into his arms carrying me into the other room laying me down in the bed.
He climbed in on his side and I snuggled up into his warmth knowing he would leave to deal with the rancher when I went to sleep and rested. "I love you, Rip and so will this second child of ours." Whispering up into his brown eyes I intertwined our hands together closing my eyes letting sleep overtake me.
Comments really appreciated ❤️
#rip wheeler#rip wheeler x reader#rip wheeler x wife reader#rip wheeler imagine#rip wheeler x y/n#cole hauser#yellowstone imagine#yellowstone x reader#yellowstone masterlist#yellowstone one shot#yellowstone fans#yellowstone#requests open#ask box is open for anything#comments really appreciated#rip wheeler x pregnant reader#rip wheeler x dutton reader#pregnant reader#cowboy fights
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In Love and War Pt II
Summary: Warlord!Rhys takes his mate back to his mountain camp and Tamlin's!sister!Reader has to decide the best way to try and escape
Content Warnings: Morally Grey!Rhys, talks of violence
Part I
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We ride for hours. The first two riders I’d seen join us after the first; they too have wings, tucked tight against their backs. Under different circumstances, I might be tempted to ask why they bothered with horses at all when they can simply fly, but thought better of it. The less I learn about them the better. All the easier to keep them in my mind as some faceless evil so I feel a little less guilty about putting an arrow in their eye when I escape. Rhysand has foolishly left me with my weapons, I'll put that mistake to good use when the time is right.
By the third hour, we’ve left the bog and the forest behind, riding through what was once a sprawling plain but is now nothing but weeds. There is no magic left to keep this place fertile and thriving. Hybern’s Cauldron backed powers have stripped most of the land of its power, leaving ruin and famine behind in its wake. Little has managed to grow since, he’s been using the Cauldron to make sure a majority of the crops grow in his fields, where his slaves can tend them and ensure he gets the bulk of the harvest. There's nowhere to run out here.
Especially not when the rest of the riders regroup. There are twelve of them in total, all falling behind my captor as his great, midnight black stead takes the lead.
I haven’t ridden a horse in a long time, could not afford to keep one, but the ones that I had, back in my youth, had never been this graceful. Even with my added weight the horse gallops like it has wings, swift as the wind, its blue-black mane trailing gracefully behind it. I almost don’t mind the ride, minus the circumstance and company, as the sun begins to set ahead of us, the sky a symphony of purple, orange and pink.
Eventually, we come to a river, flowing with large chunks of ice from a not yet frozen ice flow further upstream, where they stop to water their mounts.
My captor dismounts first, large, gloved hands gripping my waist to help me down. By the Mother, his hands are so large against my hips! I’m suddenly very aware of my own size.
“Don’t try and run,” he warns.
I glance around to my lack of escape routes and roll my eyes. “Darn, I was planning on throwing myself into the river.”
One of the others, the male I’d spotted first I think, snorts beneath his hood.
Rhysand grunts out a warning before leading his horse to drink and filling a canteen he had tucked in his saddle bag. His back is, foolishly to me, I could easily draw my knife and stab him right here, but a quick glance around tells me that really would end with me taking a trip down the river. All his men carry swords and knives and there’s one with a wicked looking dagger strapped to his thigh; I barely reach the chin of the shortest among them, and that doesn’t account for at least a hundred pounds of muscle difference between us. I know that I have thinned, my ribs poking out beneath the heavy, hole ridden sweater. Some days I feel… brittle. Today especially. I’m not winning any fights against one of them, let alone twelve.
No, I just need to be smart. Wait for an opening, steal a horse, and run as far away as possible. So far, whatever this monster thinks I’m supposed to be to him has saved me from harm, I don’t plan on sticking around to see how long that protects me. Even if I did believe in mates-- as if the Mother ever cared enough about me to give me a soul tie to anyone--I’ve seen the worst in people enough to know it didn’t mean much in the end. What’s a mate but someone obligated to be a breeding mare? What’s a bond if not a magically induced aphrodisiac? I have little doubt that I’m actually safe here; just alive and conscious because it’s too much of a hassle to try and drag my limp body around.
My scheming comes to a grinding halt as Rhysand returns with the canteen, water sloshing the edge as he holds it out for me. It hasn’t occurred to me just how dry my mouth is until I see that water.
Of course, I’m not going to let him know that. “No thanks.”
“I’m not going to poison you,” he returns.
“Poison's the least of my concerns,” I retort.
He grabs my hand and pushes the canteen into it. “Drink.”
“Bite me,” I snarl.
His men chuckle at that, which must upset him because his wings twitch behind him. He draws a deep breath before saying, “Ask nicely, mate.”
I should dump the water directly on his head, and my hand twitches around the canteen as I debate it, but in the end I decide against it. This male murdered half my family in cold blood, whatever thin amount of protection I might have remains only as long as he doesn’t think I’m a threat. To escape, I need to be smart.
On that subject, does he even know who I am? Does he remember riding into our camp that night, sword drawn, slaughtering my people as they jumped from their mats? Or were we just another blurred face in the mass of lives he’s taken in the name of conquest? He’s as bad as Hybern. Even if he has forgotten, I won’t.
I twist the lid back on without drinking anything, ignoring the way my tongue sticks to the roof of my mouth.
“Don’t say I didn’t try,” he growls as he takes it back and slides it into his saddle bag. There’s a rolled up sleep mat, a blanket, and another sword all tied neatly to that bag. Nothing too heavy, meaning their encampment can’t be far. I need to find a way to get away before they reach it; there will be too many eyes there.
“Your bow,” he says, holding out his hand.
My hand tightens instinctively around the belt across my chest, the leather worn and cracked from years of use. “No.”
“You can’t ride into camp with them.”
“Great, then you can just leave me here.”
It takes him two steps to be back beside me, and I’m embarrassed to admit how easy it is for him to snag the strap and yank it over my head, despite my best efforts to keep that from happening.
“Give that back!”
“The knife can stay, as long as you don’t do anything stupid,” he says like I’m a misbehaving child.
He keeps his back to me as he ties my bow and quiver up next to his second sword, my stomach rolling at the sight of my things next to his.
Rhysand orders his men to mount up as he turns back to me, and I get the impression he’s looking me over for more weapons beneath the hood. I still have no idea what he looks like. Ugly and scarred, like most warlords are, I imagine. I’d never gotten a good look at him that night, had only seen those three stars on his hood and that giant sword between his wings, dripping blood.
“You won’t need any weapons,” he says, in what sounds like it’s an attempt to be gentle, but falls flat. “You’re safe with me.”
I’d have been safer with the kelpie. But I don’t say it, I don’t say anything at all as those large hands lift me back onto the horse, or when he swings into the saddle behind me. I don’t say anything when we cross the river, icy water biting through my thin pants, making my teeth chatter, or when the wind whips relentlessly at us as we leave the grassy plains and head into the mountains. The chill feels like a thousand needles being jammed into my skin, but I will bear it silently. He will not get the satisfaction of seeing me weak; will not be gratified by any sort of conversation for the duration of our journey.
Or at least, that was the plan.
“You’re shaking,” he says, one hand gripping the reins as he uses the other to slide his cloak off his shoulders and over mine.
The material is thick, lined with fur inside, so startlingly warm between his own body heat and the fur that when it settles over me I give a little sigh of relief. The sleeves are too big, swallowing my hands as I try to pull it more fully over my body. “Thanks.” It slips out of me before I can stop myself.
“You still haven’t told me your name,” he replies as he settles around me again.
The smell of him, jasmine and citrus and the sea invades all my senses. I want, more than anything, to get it out of my nose, to keep the knowledge of him far, far away from me, but yet, despite my mind’s protests, my body burrows deeper into it.
There’s still no encampment or settlement on the horizon, the horses moving deeper and deeper into the mountains as night falls around us. As long as we’re not stopping to make camp, I think I’ll survive.
“And you haven’t told me yours.” If there must be a conversation, best I can do to buy myself time is steer all conversation away from me.
“I’ve had many names, but most call me Rhys.”
Most called him Death Incarnate amidst a number of things that would make a sailor blush, but I don’t think I’d ever heard anyone call him Rhys. That was entirely too normal.
“Ok, Rhys,” it tastes like bile on my tongue, acknowledging him as anything other than the monster he has always been called back home. “Where are we going?”
The moon shines bright above us, illuminating the slender path we take through the mountains, a steep drop off on one side of us, nothing but sheer rock wall on the other.
“Home,” he replies.
I can’t help the scowl that escapes me, but at least he can’t see it. “And where is home exactly?”
“You’ll see soon,” he replies as he expertly guides his mount up a rocky path. There is no hesitation in his movements; he’s ridden this path many times.
I run a hand over my forehead. “I don’t remember coming this far out.” It slips out of me. If he knows this path then we’re close to the Illyrian borderlines, where his warband can make a semi-permanent encampment. These are grounds I’m not supposed to be anywhere near, nor did I think I was.
“Where were you headed?”
My brother’s made his claim through the Grasslands, the ground barely fertile to feed the livestock in the summer. With winter coming fast, he’d tried pushing his boundary lines into the forests near what had once been the Human Lands. I meant to go through the woods, skirting around Hybern’s slave camps and slip into the Uncharted Territories to find some game. I must have skirted too far past the slave camps when I’d lost my map running from those Highway Men.
“The Uncharted Lands,” I say because I honestly can’t come up with a lie that doesn’t make it look like I belong to Hybern or Amarantha. The boundaries between the warbands shift too often, encroaching too close. Sometimes I can barely tell who’s who and this is the only world I’ve ever known.
“Why?” He asks as we crest an incline and lead the men over a long, smooth plateau on the mountain’s western face. The wind is worse here, snapping at us like whips and before I can even burrow into my borrowed cloak, he’s drawing the hood of it over my head.
His arm tightens around my waist as he barks at his men to start riding single file.
“Was looking for food.”
The horse’s hooves echo between the valley of rock beneath us as we press forward, the precariousness of our situation buying me time to figure out my lie. If I’m not hunting for my brother, what am I doing out here? It’s been a long day; a long week honestly. The rumbling of my stomach and the wind at my face and the warlord at my back seem to occupy the limited space in my quickly tiring mind. The hood of the cloak doesn’t help. It is embedded with some sort of magic, because even though it makes everything dark and warm, I can somehow see right through the fabric, right where that cluster of stars are, as if they’re eye slits. Magic items are rare these days, and expensive, I could probably buy out the Grassland’s market of deer jerky for this item alone.
Eventually the plateau dips, taking us down the other side of the mountain, into the misty canyon below. If I didn’t know where I was before, I really don’t now. Mountains are Illyrian territory, as forbidden and unwelcoming as the Imperial City Hybern had erected in The Middle centuries ago. I need to be paying attention so I know the way back; my eyes are sharp, sharper than most, I should be able to make out a deer path or trail easily, even in the dark, but my eyes are so heavy.
I give myself a little shake. Gotta be paying attention.
The swaying, even gate of the horse reminds me of being a small child, sitting in my mother’s rocking chair as she reads me to sleep. She and my father had always loved telling us stories, my father his made up theories and tales from the road, my mother her books and poems. I try to sit up and adjust my position in the saddle so I’m not slouching forward.
“You do not ride often,” Rhys says, his grip pulling me back more solidly against his chest, so I can feel all the hard planes of him. He’s got to be freezing without his cloak, even if he is still wearing long sleeves and gloves.
“No,” I bite back the rest of the story; how my people had suffered with the loss of my father. How Tam hadn’t been able to organize our survivors in the aftermath, how he’d been unable to store enough food for us that first winter and many of our rider’s had deserted. How he’d had to decide if keeping our stables full was worth the price of the lives hunger was stealing from us; how we’d been forced to eat and sell a few of them, my father’s prized war horse included.
“We’ll change that,” he says, half to me, half to himself. “I think I like having my mate ride with me.”
I bite the inside of my cheek until it bleeds. At least I’m awake now.
“You still haven’t told me your name.”
The mist settles around us as we step into the valley, even as the path ahead becomes nearly invisible, he doesn’t slow or get down to walk the horse. He knows where he’s going, has done this so many times he could do it blind. A rare gift many of our traveling cities don’t receive. Envy swells in my chest. I have never had a place secure enough to set up a permanent camp. The Grasslands are our borders sure, but we move through them daily in fear of an attack, keeping ourselves vigilant for whenever Hybern or Amarantha decide they want more than they’ve already taken from us. Always changing our paths, our camp layout, always moving. How come this monster gets this luxury and my people don’t?
“You are so hesitant to give it,” he muses, drawing me out of my thoughts. “Do I know it already?”
Shit.
“No, that can’t be right. Our bond is too obvious, I would have remembered.”
He’s as clever as he is quick on his feet, unfortunately.
“So I will know you by association, is that it?”
I should just fling myself off the horse and try to lose myself in the mist. If I’m lucky, maybe one of his men will trample me by accident and this horrible nightmare will be over. At least, if I’m dead I will not have to explain my failure to Tam, or face the alternative of being this male’s breeding mare. Neither is a future I wish to meet.
It is only then that an alternative solution occurs to me.
Tam said I couldn’t come back without food; I’d made a nuisance of myself back home and had swiftly suffered the consequences of it, and with winter coming in fast, my brother has to know he sent me on a fool’s errand. Perhaps intending to keep me out of his way for a while; or to finally get me to bend the knee and submit to his authority as warlord. I hadn’t been of age to take father’s mark, and my allegiance had fallen through the cracks in the years after. Until I was integrated, Tam couldn’t marry me off, as I suspected he wanted to do often, and was probably using this opportunity to try and make me see reason. A future I also loathed to picture. Perhaps, if I played my cards right here, then I could find something more useful than a deer to bring back. If I played along with this little mates concept, what could Rhysand show me? Couldn’t I use any knowledge he gave to my advantage? Surely Tam would find other uses for me than marrying me off with this sort of leverage. My brother was known for his grudges, if I found a way to offer up his enemy on a silver platter, perhaps I’d never have to worry about being married off again.
My stomach twists as the plot plays out before my eyes: This fool taking me into the lands my people had never been able to access before, convincing him to let his guard down, to show me where his people were vulnerable. I could get my hands on camp movements or their supply lines; I could count the fighting men or the horses, make list after list to take back in the place of a few meals I know deep down I’d never be able to find before winter.
My parents faces flash before my eyes. My mother, so gentle and…sad. She had been sad long before my birth, always missing a home she couldn’t go back to because of Hybern. But she had always tried to be there for me. To sing to me and hold me. She had been good and kind and if she knew where I sat now… what I thought I might do…
And my father. He was cruel and cold and I’d spent a long time wondering if he’d ever loved me at all, but he had been a good leader. He had inspired the men, even on days that had been bleak. He’d been willing to shed whatever blood was necessary to ensure the survival of my people. If this opportunity had been presented while he was alive, he would have tossed a collar around my neck and dragged me to Rhysand’s doorstep himself.
As for Tamlin, well if he so much as saw Rhysand’s arm around my waist as it was now he would have torn him to shreds. He would hate it, but I think my brother was as calculating and ruthless as my father had been. His protective nature could be overruled by what he deemed necessary to keep us alive.
I’d need to play my cards right, if I was to make this work. “Yes,” and I force my voice to a whisper, my shoulders hunching in feign defeat. I will have to find ways not to look so utterly revolted about this male touching me; will have to bury all my base instincts to run and claw and fight every time he calls me his mate. But I can do it.
I will do it. For vengeance. For my angel of a mother. For the survival my father died for. I’d damn myself a hundred times over for a chance Tam had never found.
He rests his chin on my shoulder, thinking and it takes every inch of willpower I possess to not shrug him off. A few hours together and this prick thinks he can just touch me so casually? As if I have no say in the matter because he is my mate and therefore owed whatever affection he sees fit to grant me?
“You can tell me, I promise I won’t hold it against you,” his voice is… gentle. Far more gentle than a man in his position should be and I have no idea how to respond to it.
“My name is Y/N,” I saw softly, like I’m scared the wind will hear me. “Tamlin is my older brother.”
He stiffens behind me and I find myself holding my breath. This is it.
“He never mentioned he had a sister,” he says more to himself than me.
I almost audibly let loose a massive sigh of relief. “Yeah, well he isn’t too fond of me at the moment.” Never mind I didn’t know that he and Tamlin had ever talked on a mutual basis. Sometimes, usually over a mutually beneficial wedding ceremony, did rival camps come together and exchange weapons, food and sometimes training. If I remember correctly, I think there might have been times when we’d done so with the Illyrians, but never did Tam mention that he knew Rhysand personally. Rhysand was always a name whispered like a curse, as if saying it too loud would bring death and destruction upon us.
“He sent you out here? Alone?” That last bit comes out like a growl.
“Banished, is more of the term he used,” I say under my breath, hoping the tone conveys embarrassment.
“For what?” He hisses, his tone promising violence. It makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up.
Now what would convince Death Incarnate that I was something meek and fragile and in need of protection from my big, bad brother? If we really were mates, it would be in his nature to want to protect me, from both physical and emotional harm, but I needed to be careful. Too extreme a lie and I was likely to restart the war between our camps that had cost me my parents. I needed something to pack enough punch to convince him he needed to keep me close, to be looked after, but not so bad that it sparked a fight.
Perhaps my best bet was to appeal to the bond. “He wants me to take his mark,” I twist the sleeves of the cloak between my fingers as I speak. “So he can reap the benefits of marrying me off to one of Autumn’s commanders.”
Rhysand has gone still as death itself behind me and every nerve ending in my body feels like it’s on fire as whatever dark power lives within his skin comes to life. All my instincts scream at me to run, hide.
“But Eris is… cruel and I told Tam I couldn’t do it.” Eris was probably too old for Tam to try, but there had been talks, even when I was a girl, about how my father had wanted an alliance with Autumn, and Eris had his own history with the Illyrians. “He told me I needed to sort out my priorities and when I didn’t, he threw me out.”
“That’s just like him,” Rhysand snarls.
I bite down on my tongue to keep from snarling all the things I’d rather say in my brother’s defense.
“How long have you been out here on your own?”
“About a week, I think,” I could say longer, but on the off-chance he has spies that could check that sort of thing--and I’m fairly certain the stories about Illyrians and their shadow agents are not far off--I’d rather play it safe.
He brings his mount to a brief halt as two, looming carvings in the mountain’s face appear through the fog. The touring statues sporting the same great, talon tipped wings as Rhysand, stand guard over the pass ahead of us, their hewn sword held aloft. Sleeping wyverns lay at the base of each statue, their carefully carved eyes at eye level with us as the men fall in line behind us. The air is tinged with magic--overly sweet and oppressive-- as we approach, some sort of shield.
“From here,” he says softly in my ear, the mask still shielding the lower half of his face from the wind rough against my cheek. “You’ll never have to worry about being alone again.”
I’m going to be sick! Play it safe. Play the game. For Tam. For Mom and Dad. I will myself to picture their faces again, to keep reminding myself what is at stake.
Rhysand kicks the horse into motion again, passing through the shield with a flick of his gloved hand, soft ripples of magic parting for us like someone had pulled back a curtain. I’ve never seen anyone use magic so casually, so fluidly. Once all the riders have passed through, I feel the shield fall back into place behind us. No turning back now.
Ahead, the path begins to widen. At the far end of the path, still shrouded on either side by the mountains, sit two torches, the light guiding the way. When we reach them, the path dips dangerously into a valley, all filled with large, midnight black tents. More torches and bonfires light the cloth city, the sounds of drum beats and revelry beckoning from beneath us.
“I see the party started without us,” one of the men says from behind us.
“Devlon must have had a good run,” Rhysand muses as he takes us down into the valley.
As the lights draw closer, I can start to make out the tribal markings and depictions sewn into the sides of the tents. There’s singing to go with the drum beats, all in a language that makes no sense to me, just like the markings. Something from the Mountains none of my people had ever been privy to.
When we reach the outskirts of the city, we are greeted by two towering males, wearing little other than loose, dark paints and a smattering of blood red paint along their bare chests and faces. Each holds a spear, a dagger strapped to their muscled thighs.
One barks something at Rhysand in Illyrian, his slate colored gaze fixed on me, still wearing the lord’s cloak. I’m grateful they cannot see my face, the fear I know will be clear in my eyes. It is hard enough to hide the trembling in my hands.
Rhysand dismounts to greet them, still speaking in Illyrian until they retreat into the maze of tents beyond. Despite the raucous laughter and music coming from the center, the rows of tents are organized into clear streets and sectors, some dancing bodies visible in between the rows, though most of the camp seems to be in its heart at the moment.
He runs a gloved hand over the horses neck as he turns to face the men, their mounts dancing beneath them. “We will strategize in the morning.”
That is apparently dismissal enough, as his men bow their heads and kick their steads into motion around the outskirts of camp, soon disappearing into the darkness. My stomach drops as I realize I’m alone with my enemy for the first time all night. My anxiety only heightens as he takes the reins and guides the horse forward without a word of where we’re going.
I’m too scared to ask either.
Staying on the edge of camp means I cannot see any of what is happening within, though I glimpse bonfires and revelry often enough to guess. It is not unlike our own celebrations, even if the music is different.
Rhysand still doesn’t speak as we pass another group of sentries and head up a well worn path in the heart of the valley. The grass is lush here, would be up to his knees were it not for the cleared stretch lined by torches. It is quieter here, the music distant.
Overhead, the stars glitter like a million little diamonds, all the constellations I have memorized a stark contrast to the dark shadows of this hidden mountain world. We’re surrounded on all sides by mountains, shielded from view and harm by stone. It is so different to the rolling hills I am used to, it is nice to know that the stars, at least, have not changed.
The path leads to a secluded circle of larger tents, still black but stitched with stars not unlike the ones on the cloak I’m still wearing.
We pass yet another group of sentries as we approach, and only once we’re face to face with the largest tent in the circle does Rhysand finally stop.
I swallow the lump in my throat.
I should have run. Should have thrown myself into the river. Should have risked a quick death trying to fight my way out of this than subjecting myself to this.
Rhysand grabs my waist again and lifts me off the horse as if I weigh nothing. Compared to his size, I’m sure I do. In the torchlight, this is the first time I’ve managed to glimpse his face. I’d been drastically wrong about his appearance. The monster that haunted my nightmares was not some old, scarred thing as I had pictured, I wasn’t sure he was even older than Tam. A young lord, his features sharp, but clean cut. Some of his raven black hair fell loose around his sun kissed face, framing a set of violet eyes so bright they practically glittered like stars in his head, the rest was braided with strands of blue and purple thread. By far the most beautiful male I’d ever seen in my life and I think I hate him a little more for it.
“You must be tired,” he says finally.
I don’t know what to do or say, so I just nod, which I think might be a mistake because now we’re heading inside the tent and all I can hear is the pounding of my heart in my ears because I have made a terrible mistake!
By some magic trick, torches flair to life as we enter, the soft orange glow cast in eerie patterns against the sleek black leather walls. On one side of the tent is a bed large enough to accommodate someone with such massive wings, piled with furs and pelts of various animals. On the other end, a table with some chairs and various weapons and books and trinkets scattered about the top of it. There’s chests piled in the corner, locked and dusty like they haven’t been opened since they’d been moved in. The floor is covered in a dozen different rugs, all overlapping in an attempt to make the place feel cozier but the patterns and colors are all so different that it looks like a whacky patchwork quilt. Clearly a layout chosen by a male.
“I apologize for the mess,” he begins as he takes off the scarf tied around the lower half of his face and places it over the back of a chair. “I… was not expecting to come across anybody out there, let alone bringing anyone back.”
“What were you doing out there?” My voice shakes too much for my liking and I’m convinced I asked that far too quickly to not be totally obvious, but it’s too late to take it back now.
“Scouting,” he says with no further explanation as he tosses his gloves onto a heap of more gloves on the edge of the table.
My muscles stiffen as I watch him warily. If he starts undressing I might really change my mind and try to run for it.
I am prepared to do what is necessary for my people, but that is a line I cannot cross yet. Not tonight.
He steps closer to where I stand dumbly in the center of the room, drowning in his cloak, and he nudges the hood off my face with his knuckles.
I have to remind myself to stop biting my lip as the fabric slides off my head. Even fully clothed, standing this close to him, with those violet eyes drinking me in like that, I feel very exposed and vulnerable.
“You’re shaking,” he says softly, his hand drifting down the side of my cheek.
I hate that I shiver under his touch. Hate that my eyes go to his full lips and how soft they look in this torchlight. I hate that I find him beautiful, hate that I do not pull away as he cups my cheek. I hate myself for putting myself in this position in the first place.
“I…” this is not an act, I really don’t know what to do or say here. My chest aches with the way he’s looking at me, like maybe there really is some strange, mystical thread linking us together and it’s coming awake the more he has his hands on me. Yet my mind balks and screams all the same and I cannot tell which of them is supposed to help me do this. “This is a lot.”
“There’s no need to be afraid,” he assures, his voice low and husky, a tone I think might be better suited to the bedroom. “You are safe with me.”
Safe.
As if he could ever make me feel safe.
His thumb rubs circles in my cheek, the calluses along his palm from years of sword play scratching pleasantly across my skin. Violet eyes rove over me, studying the plains of my face like he’s cataloging every detail. “I’ll get you something to eat.”
I let loose a breath as he heads back to the tent flap, where his horse is still waiting.
“For now, it would be best if you stay here. Don’t go anywhere without me. At least, not until you take my mark.”
And then he’s gone, finally leaving me alone for the first time in hours, but even if I wanted to do some snooping, I can’t. All I can do is stand there as my stomach rises in my throat.
His mark.
How the hell was I supposed to go home bearing Rhysand’s mark?
I rub my temples with my fingertips. I need to find something useful to take back to Tamlin and get out of here fast, because if I don’t, I may never be allowed to go home again.
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Songs of Sorrow - Ch. 10
Rancher!AU || Boothill x Fem!Reader || Slowburn, Drama
You’re looking out the window again, enjoying your time to yourself as Boothill’s workday comes to a close. You’ve already finished dinner for him and the others again, ignoring his insistence that you didn’t need to cook for everyone. He managed to convince one of the ranch hands to go into town and buy you some clothes, able to use the guise of buying things for a sibling which meant you could actually leave the house and not feel severely underdressed - or like you were Boothill’s mistress.
You watch jealously as the others start to mess around with each other, shooting each other with the hoses as the dogs nip at their ankles. After Boothill’s warning you were careful to listen to his instructions. You know it would absolutely tear him up if something happened to you on his watch, pouting to yourself as you wait to see if he’ll see your text.
You look down at your phone for half a second, screaming when you look up and find yourself face to snout with a horse. Thankfully it doesn’t seem to scare at all despite your reaction and you look up to see Boothill on it’s back.
“You bored?” he asks casually through the open window, gesturing for you to come outside to meet him.
You excitedly run to him, throwing on some boots he got for you as you run outside quickly to stand beside the horse.
“Can I come on?” you ask, your enthusiasm making Boothill laugh.
“‘Course you can doll.”
He slips off easily, landing beside you gracefully. You’re about to reach out to grab the saddle, aiming to take some of the weight of your body to make it easier for him but he easily grabs you by the hips and helps you climb on. You stare at him wide eyed, still open mouthed when he gets on behind you.
“How did you do that?” you ask in sheer disbelief.
“What? Pick you up? Darlin’, I’m stronger than I look.”
That must be a feat because you know he looks incredibly strong, not understanding just how strong until you feel his chest press against your back as he grabs the reins. You can feel his muscle against you, the arms that picked you up effortlessly resting easily on your hips. You wonder if he has to sit this close to you, mind spinning at the scent of his cologne and shampoo.
You try your best to focus on the greenery while the two of you are riding, his breath on your ear doing nothing to help your focus. At some point he rests his chin on your shoulder, practically nuzzling into you.
“Ya don’t mind, do ya?” he asks, voice rubbing up against your ear in the most perfect way.
“N-no, not at all,” you stutter.
“Good. I’ve had a long day,” he sighs, arms wrapping around your midsection as he starts to direct his horse using just his legs.
“If you want me to get off just let me know, alright?” he says kindly.
“I will,” you promise, hoping that the way you lean into his touch isn’t too obvious.
“I’m sorry I didn’t see your text sooner,” Boothill says with genuine remorse.
“I got caught up in helping the dogs round up the cows. They weren’t havin’ it today.”
“It’s fine. I’m sorry if I interrupted something important. I was just hoping to at least go for a walk. Staying all cooped up in your house isn’t really my idea of fun.”
“I know, I know.”
He keeps his horse at a steady gait, the greenery passing you by as you slowly come off his land into a more wooded area. You’ve never been out this far before, always having seen the forest but never been able to actually go and visit it. You look around in wonder, taken aback by how beautiful everything looks.
You can’t see the way he looks at you as you’re trying to savour everything around you. You don’t see how his eyes soften, the tender way his arms are careful not to hold you too tightly. He can feel your breath gently fanning against his lips if you turn your head towards him and ask him a question about the plants. He’s also acutely aware of the fact that if he leans forward just the slightest bit more under the guise of needing to lead his horse his lips would brush against the soft skin of your cheek. He’d feel your lashes brush against his skin and find himself content with just that to keep him company.
You let him take you out to a clearing in the forest, far away enough from the main road that neither of you have to worry about being seen. The comforting gurgle of a river accompanies the sweet chirping of birds as you sigh happily. You’re glad to hear something different for a change, eagerly trying to jump off of the horse. Luckily, Boothill feels you beginning to squirm, making a sharp sound you’ve heard him use on the dogs before on instinct before you can fall off the horse.
“Sorry. Forgot you’re not a dog,” he laughs, hands holding your hips in place as he nudges you to look back up at him.
“I’ll letcha down gorgeous, don’t worry. Just lemme come off first an’ break your fall.”
“I won’t fall!” you insist, swinging a leg over at the same time he slips off the horse.
You’re about to jump off yourself when you realise the drop is a lot further down than you expected. A big man needs a big horse and you realise now you’re going to have to relent, pathetically putting your arms out for him to take you down.
“There ya are. Sweet little thing arentcha? Knew ya could listen to me,” he coos with a smirk, his praise making you blush furiously.
You’re at a loss for words, following him blindly as your brain shuts off. He guides you with a hand on your lower back, taking you to sit on a log with him.
“Why did you take me out here?” you ask once he’s settled down, pulling something out of his pocket.
“You were bored. You texted me,” he says plainly, gesturing at your phone.
“Yeah, but I thought you were going to entertain me by making me watch more calf castration,” you joke.
“The look on your face from last time still makes me laugh,” Boothill chuckles, looking back at the memory fondly.
“How was I supposed to react when you just…”
He snaps his hand in front of you quickly, making you jump as he mimics the movement he’s honed to a perfect art. It makes you squeal, jumping in place as he laughs at you.
“I didn’t realise you were squeamish. Got a little princess on my hands, huh?” he teases as you shudder.
“I think my reaction is more than deserved when you said “Watch this!” then just laughed when I stared at you, mortified,” you pout.
“I’m just messin’ with ya, don’t worry,” he reassures, looking up towards the sky.
“Sorry if I actually made you uncomfortable. I enjoy messin’ witcha but not if it’s gonna make ya upset, yeah?”
He looks back at you, eyes carefully watching if you were really upset with him. His bangs frame his face perfectly, hair tied high to keep it out of the way while he works. You always have the urge to run your fingers through it, wondering how he kept the locks so shiny.
“It’s okay. I know you weren’t actually trying to hurt me or anything,” you mutter, looking away from him.
The two of you enjoy a moment of silence. You close your eyes, instinctively leaning into his body. You feel him shift around, about to tell him that you can move if he’s uncomfortable with the weight of your body when you hear the sound of a harmonica playing softly beside you. You look up to see Boothill playing the instrument.
Boothill looks perfectly at ease, eyes closed as he guides the instrument along his lips. The tune he plays is melancholy, a sorrow you understand far too well being pulled from somewhere deep in your core. His foot taps lightly on the ground, keeping his beat. You can only admire him for so long - you’re saddened by the song ending far too soon as he turns back to look at you.
“I didn’t know you played,” you say in shock, somehow thinking he can’t further encapsulate the rancher stereotype as you try to compose yourself.
“Oh yeah. This and guitar ya’know.”
You nearly swoon at the thought, imagining him sitting under a shaded tree singing a song to you. It makes you blush, covering your face. You can’t help but wonder how his voice would sound crooning to you, promising you a big ring and happy life on the farm. You know you’ve heard your fair share of such songs at work, wondering if they sounded any different when directed at you.
“Nothin’ like playin’ a song under the stars though,” he says after a moment, the last notes of his song still ringing in your mind.
“One day invite me out for a duet then,” you say half jokingly.
“Alrighty then. It’ll be a date.”
“Wait Boothill - I didn’t mean -”
Your face flushes. Even if he was just joking, the heat that runs up your body is very real as you panic a little, wanting to take back the words. His hand comes to gently fuss with your hair, shaking you lightly as he shakes his head. Your heart beats quickly as he leans in closer to you, nose almost brushing against your own.
“I’m just kiddin’ doll. Don’t freak yourself out.”
You’re glad he’s just joking, laughing softly in response to his words as you will your heart to calm down.
Or at least you think you are.
#honkai star rail x reader#hsr x reader#boothill x reader#hsr boothill x reader#honkai star rail boothill x reader#songs of sorrow
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If you've been following my daily Assassin's Creed Valhalla photomodes, you've perhaps noticed I enjoy putting Eivor on her mount, whatever form it takes that day, and sending her off cliffs. It's dramatic, it makes for cool shots. What I don't show you is that often at the bottom of these cliffs, particularly if they're tall, the mount stumbles and, in outrage, pitches Eivor from the saddle, ignominiously dumping her Viking ass to the turf.
Recently I acquired my first pegasus.
And I assumed, well, she has wings, but she's still going to fall off a cliff like any other horse. Over the cliff, a nice pic, and then a dumped ass, the usual. So I started taking her over elevations to get some nice flying-but-not-really shots.
And I noticed that every time, she stuck her landing. No stumble, no Viking-pitching. Huh, I thought. Maybe the pegasus is able to fall from heights more easily? I'm sure it's not a dramatic upgrade though, these have been fairly small elevations. It's not worth experimenting with. I mean, if I wanted to. I'd need to find somewhere really tall. If I wanted to see whether the pegasus can fall from any height without throwing me. If I wanted to waste the time. If it was worth it to me.
Hm.
We're in beautiful Dover. Night falls as I gallop to the cliff's edge.
Well, let's see how this goes.
POV: You are riding behind a stupid Viking.
Oh hey, there's a bit of rock jutting out before we reach the bottom of the cliffs.
Drat.
No stumble. And sure, that was a big jump, but it wasn't the jump, all the way down the cliff. It wasn't at all big enough for my experiment. If I want to waste more time. Experimenting.
I need a better cliff.
Hm.
My pegasus, she is so trusting. And we look so nice.
But the ground always hurtles up to meet us, a fate I could easily avoid if I just stopped riding the both of us off cliffs. Will she toss me?
And then we landed in water.
Now, that was somewhat diagnostic. On a non-winged mount, if you jump from high enough and land in water, your mount will still avenge herself by dunking you. So presumably my question has been answered: No matter how high you jump her from, the pegasus will always land you fine.
But.
But I didn't start doing this to land in water. I wanted to land on the ground, perfect, no problems.
Where's another cliff?
The soft morning light touches us while Eivor evidently has nothing else to do today.
Oh no, is that another slab of rock jutting out?
Unsatisfied with this jump too, I force Eivor to doggedly climb back up the Unsuitable White Cliffs of Dover.
Okay. New position. Looks good.
Let's go.
So much determination in that face. And that hoof flying up over her left elbow.
And there's the landing, no problem. My conclusion: the pegasus will not throw you, no matter how far you make her fall. She's such a good girl.
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The Man from Black Water, Chapter 15
A/N Just a short bridging chapter today that sets the stage for the final part of the story. I think you’ll like it, because both Henry Beauchamp and Angus get a bit of what’s coming to them.
Previous chapters can be found on my AO3 page.
Henry Beauchamp spurred his horse forward, intercepting the derelict cart and its driver just as it was about to leave his property.
“Ah, ye’ve come tae see yer auld friend on his way. Courteous as always, Henry.” Murtagh re-arranged his tam over his oily hair and drew the back of his hand across his beard, where some of Mrs. Crook’s fine breakfast pastie still lingered.
“You’ve said enough today,” Henry growled. “Turning Claire against me.”
“Ye misjudge the lass. Jes as ye did her mother.”
Invoking Julia’s memory was like pouring lamp oil on the flames of Henry’s anger and he rose up tall in his saddle, hazel eyes flashing.
“Tell me,” he demanded, “once and for all, whose daughter is she?”
To his utter consternation, Murtagh began to guffaw, hitting his empty pant leg like he’d heard a good joke.
“Puir Henry Beauchamp. All the riches in the world, but no’ a drop of wisdom tae enjoy them by.”
Murtagh slapped the reins against his old nag’s back and the old cart began to creak towards the road. He waited until the last minute before looking over his shoulder at the now hunched figure of a broken, pathetic man.
“If ye had truly loved Julia, ye wouldna need tae ask. Of course she’s yours! But ye dinna deserve her.”
Without another glance behind him, Murtagh and his wagon began the long, arduous journey back up the path to the Highlands.
***
Jamie had hoped to gather his few belongings from the bunkhouse while the other stockhands were out in the fields, but luck was not with him. Angus and Rupert were inside, sharing a metal flask of something potent, despite the early hour.
“If it isna the teuchter,” Angus shouted with glee when he saw Jamie enter. Word of Jamie’s dismissal had already spread amongst the labourers and Angus was delighted that the uppity young man was finally being cut down to size.
“Did they throw ye out o’ the big house, teuchter?” he goaded. “Bet they found out ye broke in more than that colt while we was away on muster. Did ye have tae use yer spurs, boy? Did she give ye a nice first ride?”
Months of indignity, disappointment and curbed temper ripped through Jamie’s restraint like an avalanche, burying any remaining patience he possessed. The Campbells, Henry Beauchamp, his own parents dying and leaving him all alone in the world: for once, he just wanted to strike back and watch his opponent suffer a fraction of his pain.
Which is exactly what he did, far more quickly than Angus expected. He’d landed two hard right jabs before the smaller man even raised his fists. Two more blows connected before Rupert’s strong arms grabbed him from behind, effectively pinning down his only weapons. Angus drew his switchblade, a mad gleam in his flat eyes as he brought it towards Jamie’s throat.
“Angus!” The deep voice came from the doorway, where Black Jack had returned to the bunkhouse in time to witness the fight. “Drop the knife,” he commanded, his own blade held casually next to his thigh.
Angus considered his next move, trying to measure whether the sinister Black Jack was really willing to come to the aid of a green Highland whelp.
“I’ve done it before,” Black Jack answered the unspoken question with a snarl. “And so help me, I’ll do it again.”
With a frustrated grunt, Angus tossed his knife aside and attacked Jamie with his bare fists. Several blows forced the air out of the large man’s lungs and he twisted in an attempt to break free of Rupert’s surprisingly strong hold. Pushing back against his captor’s solid bulk, Jamie raised both legs and kicked an onrushing Angus square in the sternum, causing him to fall backwards onto the floor with a cry. The young Scot then loosed himself from Rupert’s grip, felled him with a solid upper-cut to the jaw, and turned on Angus where he lay groaning on the floor. His opponent raised a hand in mute entreaty. Jamie considered stepping on the man’s throat but being wanted for murder was not going to improve his situation. He instead landed one last solid kick to Angus’ ribs, reveling in the satisfying crunch, then stepped over his prone body and out the door.
Jamie needed to leave Netherton before any further calamity could befall him, but he had one last message to deliver.
“A man can be hard tae find in the Highlands,” he said to Black Jack, who still stood on the veranda, calmly carving a chunk of wood. “Ye’re welcome at my croft anytime.” The older man acknowledged him with a silent nod.
As Jamie rode Donas across the yard one last time, Claire came out of the manor house and stood on the front steps to watch him go. Despite the ache he felt in leaving her, Jamie couldn’t help but smile, causing Claire to smile in return. She lifted her hand in farewell, and he replied with a jaunty salute of his tam before riding swiftly away.
***
It was pitch black when a drunken Angus and Rupert stumbled into the Netherton stables, both looking considerably worse for wear.
“Ye see that colt, Rupe?” Angus slurred as they approached Hamlet’s stall. “He’s worth a thousand pounds. Do ye ken how much money that is? More than we’re ever make working a lifetime for old Beauchamp, thas what.”
Angus grabbed a riding whip from a nearby peg and entered Hamlet’s stall, leaving the door open behind him. A few sharp cracks and the young horse burst from the stall, cantered down the stone alleyway and out into the stableyard. By the time the two men emerged from the barn, his black coat could barely be seen glistening in the moonlight as he fled down the lane towards the road.
“That’ll teach him,” Angus jeered.
“Yeah,” Rupert agreed. “Who?”
“The teuchter, ye numpty. Beauchamp will think he loosed the colt tae get even fer being let go.”
Satisfied with their final act of retribution, the two men staggered back to the bunkhouse.
Hamlet came to a halt where the lane met the road, looking left and right as though considering the best route to freedom. A faint scent, friendly and familiar from hours spent being curried and spoken to gently, wafted from the north. With a toss of his regal head, the colt turned and galloped towards the Highlands.
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The Path of Life Is Filled with Zany Bards Ch8
Sooo
Yeah, This is kinda short I had to get back in the groove of writing this story hope you enjoy (also i'll probably update Broken but Golden too as a prize for second place)
Masterlist
Summer had rolled on steadily week by week. Being farther north meant the heat was not so intense as to cause one to suffer, only discomfort. It was mildly frustrating in a way. The heat was enough to be uncomfortable and make one not want to venture outside of a breezy shaded spot, however it was not reasonably hot enough to use as an excuse. You circumnavigated this as best you could by trying to spend any time you needed to outside early in the morning. Which was how you found yourself creeping up the path to the stables in a barely visible morning light.
A blue calm shrouded your surroundings. Mist or fog rather sat still in the high grass of the fields. Insects and creatures starting there day as you did, proclaiming there songs into the silent morning atmosphere. Swift work was made of extracting two horses from their stalls—the grey draft for yourself and the sassy roan that Faye preferred. You tied them out by the posts and diligently set about bounding them in the leather and wool of blanket and saddle, pondering all the while your new found friendship with Faye.
She was one of Addisons daughters who happened to be near your age. You had found her to be incredibly comforting for a stranger. Addison had scolded her on your first meeting—when she had proclaimed rather bluntly that your coco and taupe colored dress made you look like a molded piece of bread. Her father had just stood there aghast for a moment before beginning to berate her, only for your laughter to cut him off. It was nice having someone say what they truly thought to you with no hesitation. Genuine people had been few in and far to come by in the wealthy circles your family danced in.
You had quickly found a repour with Faye and you ended up giving her the dress as a gift in jest. She had even proclaimed she would wear it someday.
“I’ll save it for something special” she had commented as she had held up the garment. “I can’t save it for your wedding since your already married, but perhaps if we ever have a party” You giggled as she folded the dress to be put away
“You can be the prettiest mold in the room” you retorted.
“Damn right!” She had turned to you, a grin, cheeky as could be filled her face.
Lost in your work and mind you failed to notice the girl sneaking up behind you until two hands gabbed at your waist, causing a curt and clipped yell to pass your lips.
“Faye you-“
“Just making sure you’re awake” She innocently replied, sauntering over to the other side of her horse.
“Can’t have my favorite boss falling off and getting mud in her hair or gasp even her clothes, we only have so much soap in the house.” Caught up in her teasing she had failed to notice you had taken a large flake of hay. Waiting for her to finished before throwing it up in the air and coating her in pieces of straw and grass.
“You little!” She didn’t have time to finish the insult as you hopped on your steed and began galloping away from her. Laughter filling the morning sunrise, as you rode off through the field. The sound of hooves thumping behind you became louder as she chased in pursuit. When she finally was neck and neck with you, you laughed even harder. The straw so thoroughly ingrained in her hair that it clung to her still as the wind whipped it about too and fro.
For just a glimmer of a fraction of a moment you weren’t a wealthy countess, or a reluctant wife or a successful trader. You were just a girl, smiling and laughing with a friend in the morning sun. Just this little moment of carefree splendor, it made you think perhaps that it would all be okay. Maybe not today or the next, but someday it would end up being all right. You could live with that you supposed.
~
“Y/n I don’ know about this, you know me and I don’t really fit in with these sophisticated types.” Faye had whined in your ear as the carriage pushed nearer and nearer your old home. You had been invited for a party to commemorate the summer solstice by your parents, and you had readily accepted it. Your older sister—who you had not seen in some time—would be in attendance with your first niece and her husband in tow. You had never actually met her husband, you had been away for business purposes, going in place of your father since he needed to be in attendance at the wedding.
Excited at the prospect of seeing your family and new niece, but reluctant to face your family alone you had strong armed Faye into attending with you.
“It’s okay Faye, you won’t have to leave my side. Just sit, look stoic and I’ll answer everything for you, it’s honestly what they would expect from you if you were my real maid.” You had come up with a simple story to sneak Faye in with you. She was your personal maid—hired by Julian to keep you well and happy while he was away.
Julian
Your mind flicked over to his face in your memory. The bright and striking eyes. The way the light of the morning sun had bounced of his hair the morning you’d said your goodbyes. You wondered what he was doing now? Sleeping in to stay up late for his next performance? Playing merrily in a town square for any who would pass by on the way to there errands? Perhaps he was simply walking in the woods on his way to the next adventure.
Yes you could picture that. The gentle sway in his step as he walked through brush and bramble. The freckles of light plunging down from the tress playing every so carefully with his countenance. Plucking out a tune to keep himself company as he went along. With only the forest and it’s inhabitance as his audience. And perhaps the creatures of the woods would stop a moment just to listen to him.
It occurred to you that Julian hadn’t actually played for you before he left. For all you knew he was dreadful at it. But, it seemed unlikely to you. Julian just seemed the type to have art weaved in his soul.
During all of your reminiscing your face had gone sour. Deep creases framing your furrowed brows as you stared into the seat of the carriage.
“Are you alright? You look like you want to throw up and scream at the same time?” Faye had asked in her blunt as always fashion. It snapped you out of your mind fog.
“I’m okay, just…” You looked out at the scenery, turning back ever so surely to the moss and greenery you grew up around.
“….missing home I suppose”
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Had a bummer of a couple of past rides but had such a good one today and I’m back to having fun and being madly in love with my pony! (It doesn’t take much apparently.)
I was gone for a full week for work and then had to wait an extra day to get a saddle shipped in to try it. So the first day back riding was 5/10. I tried to get there super early to ride before the storm but it was hiking the whole time I was riding in the indoor and the pony just did not want to move forward at all. Still a massive gold star for her for not being a shit show with the weather but she was not feeling like working hard so I didn’t force it.
The next day had a lesson which had gotten moved due to the rain and there being a clinic over the weekend and only having one indoor (vs multiple outdoor arenas.). And then the trainer was super later and actually pushed the lesson back half an hour which she only bothered to tell half the people and then she was late from there. Which was annoying because I had to leave work early for it and then had to leave the lesson a little early because I had group dinner plans I didn’t want to be late for.
So it was set up to be a stress lesson. And then she had a jumping a little grid straight at the gate. And all the horses were kind of nuts about it, including mine. Just full out rushing and running at it. And earlier I. The lesson the trainer was like you’re going to have to work really hard to fix all of your form issues. And then I got yelled at for throwing my hands up over the jumps. And I just generally left the lesson feeling like a disaster.
Was going to ride Monday but left my bridle at home like an idiot. So just lunges her in her halter. And then I couldn’t get her to go one direction and my friend had to help me. So feeling great.
Rode Monday 5/15 in the evening and it was fine. But I was complaining about how I was feeling bad about my riding, and my friends were like no no you’re too hard yourself. It’s just that you power post and grip with your knees and don’t relax and if you just stopped thrusting you’d be fine. And it’s like, I really do not need you to point out all my flaws right now. You could’ve just stopped at you’re too hard on yourself. (Their feedback is normally very helpful but it really felt like a pile on in the moment. Like we are standing and talking I don’t need you to reiterate all the flaws of my posting trot back to me. I know them. It almost made me start to cry.) but it was mostly a fine ride.
Tuesday morning I had the saddle fitter out, and she was so grumpy and was bulging out through right shoulder so so bad. And I know I do dumb things to try and fix it that make it worse but we could barely go to the left it was so bad and it was honestly embarrassing. The saddle fitter was nice about it and we worked through it and still got enough trot and canter both directions to evaluate the saddles fully. But it still made me feel like a terrible rider who can’t even steer a horse around the arena correctly.
#I was not feeling like a good rider at all feeling#feeling like it was too hard to be fun#and feeling defeated#and like I was behind for where I should be#like I have been taking so many lessons and riding for so many years and my form is still so terrible#and like I might never actually get even passable at this sport#Luna#riding journal
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Any writing accomplished today, brought to you by Mother Nature.
#Snowing like a motherfucker in the PNW#I really needed to throw a saddle on my horse today#The hounds are happy curled up in front of the fireplace#jonerysfic#BetweenTheRaindrops
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Living My Storybook
Request from @thefandomdiaries07 John Dutton x reader from Yellowstone. I was thinking maybe something along the lines of a much younger reader (like mid 20s even) who lives/grew up in Napa Valley and is a struggling author, so they take a trip to Montana and meet John?
Tag list @whateverthecostner @artoldfartsandunicornhearts @nettysworld-madisonclark @elenavampire21
Parking my truck next to this barn, I sighed, closing my notebook and putting it in my bag, heading towards the building. Peaking my head inside the door, I think I got the right address my friend Monica sent me since I told her I needed a place to stay for a few weeks to get inspiration for the book I'm working on. There's a horse saddled in the barn so I slowly walked up climbing on which causes the horse to suddenly bolt out of the barn and towards the field. Gripping the reins I screamed struggling to stay on as he races finally throwing me off his back. Rolling on the ground I groaned holding my ankle of my right leg. "Well that couldn't have gone any better." I mumbled to myself before someone raced past me riding their horse a lot easier than I did moments ago.
The rider chased after the horse, throwing their rope over its neck, allowing them to gently grab the reins and lead the other horse back in my direction. Tucking hair behind my ear, I blushed, seeing it was an older looking cowboy than I expected. But he was still attractive. He dismounted his horse, tipping his black hat down at me. "Never in my life did I think someone would just saddle my horse and think they can ride him like I can. Care to explain why you did that, darling?" Running my fingers through my hair, I sighed heavily, feeling really embarrassed now. "Sir, I'm sorry. Look, I thought that my friend Monica saddled him for me. Since she knew I was coming here for a few weeks to hopefully get ideas for my next book. But again, I'm so sorry, Mr Um.."
"John Dutton, ma'am. Let's get you back to the house. It was a simple mistake so I ain't mad at you." He extended his right hand to me, so I put my hand in his, but when he tugs me to stand my right ankle gives out and I stumbled into his chest. He wrapped his arms around my waist, helping me to stand, noticing my ankle was injured. "Woah, I've got you. Looks like you twisted an ankle when you fell. Come on, ride on my horse with me." He helped me back onto the horse he was riding, and we made it back to the house where he put the horses up in the barn. John came back handing me an ice pack that I put on my ankle moving over so he could sit on the swing beside me. "I'm Y/n, by the way... thanks for the save...this place is beautiful. It's almost like the scenery I am writing in my book."
John removed his hat, sitting it on his lap, staring at me where I turned my head, looking into his eyes softly. My heart skipped a beat feeling comfortable around him even though we hadn't even known each other for a day. "Forgive me for being sudden Y/n, but would you like to get a drink with me tonight?" He asked nervously, playing with his hat in his lap. I smiled, leaning forward and kissing his cheek, causing him to blush red. "Uh...what is your book about if you don't mind asking?" Gripping the ice pack, I felt a little shy since what happened today might have just given me the inspiration I needed. "Well, John, I wasn't really sure until now. Would you be open to me writing it about you and your ranch?" John placed his hand on mine softly, placing his cowboy hat on my head smiling. "As long as you write the truth and consider letting me take you on a date. I'll be happy." Monica was right that coming here was a good idea.
Comments really appreciated ❤️
#john dutton x young reader#john dutton x reader#john dutton#kevin costner#yellowstone#yellowstone tv series#yellowstone tv show#yellowstone tv#struggling writer x reader#john dutton fluff#ask box is open for anything#comments really appreciated
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In Love and War (7)
Summary: Truths are revealed and Reader has to decide what that means for her revenge plans.
Content Warnings: Talks of Past Character Deaths, Blood and Violence
Author's Note: Really building up for more and more angst here, aren't I?
Chapter 6/Masterlist
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Rhysand is gone when I wake up in the morning, the mat beside me cold, the fur not enough to fully keep the chill out. There’s some dried meat and bread laid out beside the mat for me, but he’d tied the tent flap closed whenever he’d left. I pack the food back up and start the familiar process of rolling up the fur and blankets. I have no appetite, and the more monotonous the task, the less I have to think about last night. There was no time to finish the conversation, not with the men scrambling to ensure we had no more surprises. Rhysand hadn’t come back to the tent until long after exhaustion had pulled me under. I was only coherent enough to register the warmth of his body beside mine before I’d fallen back asleep.
I wait until everything is packed, save the tent itself, to slide back into my chest piece. The leather feels heavier today. Everything does, really. I toss my quiver over my head and strap it in place, the silence making the heaviness worse. There are too many thoughts to be had inside this little tent. Too many emotions I don’t want to touch. I sigh as I untie the tent flap and step out into the early morning light. Cassian should have checked in by now, the fact that all the men are still here is a good sign.
A few of the men are already taking down their tents, the small amount of personal supplies piling up near where most of their horses graze. It won't take long for them to be saddled up and on the move again. This is a process that feels as familiar as breathing; I tear down the tent without waiting for Rhysand to come back from wherever it is he and Azriel have wandered off to--their mounts are the only ones missing from the herd but I can't see them over the rocky incline we're perched on.
Perhaps that is for the best. I think if I saw Rhys now I’d throw up. I need the answers, but I don’t know how to face them. I don’t know that I want to believe him.
I tear down the tent and get it all nice and packed away before I remember that Andras was still alive when I’d fallen asleep last night. A quick glance to where he’d been tied up shows me nothing but a blood stain and all the tears I’d tried to keep at bay last night come flooding to the surface.
I’m so tired of the bloodshed. Why does it always end this way? Is that all we are? Just brutes that kill and maim until we share the same fate? Is that all life is supposed to be?
I’m spiraling deeper and deeper by the time I hear their horses return and I am grateful I don’t have powers to advertise it to everyone the way their shadows had last night. I make myself busy, hands shaking, as I hear their boots hit the earth as they dismount. Rhys’s eyes are on my back as I tie the rolled up tent, I can feel them like a brand.
What have I done?
He and Azriel separate, one set of footfalls falling away, down the path to confer with the scouts, the other coming my way. It would be weird that I knew him by the sound of his gate if I hadn’t learned early on in life that the best way to stay safe was to mesmerize the sound of everyone’s footsteps. Can’t be underprepared for a fight if you know who’s coming your way.
Except this time, there’s nowhere to run. All the supplies are packed and they go on his horse. I might as well be chained to the beast.
“Did you eat?” He sounds as tired as he had looked last night and my chest feels like it’s going to cave in on me.
“Wasn’t hungry,” I mutter as I brush my hands over my pants and turn to face him. I should just rip the bandaid off, right? I
The jasmine and citrus scent of him is overwhelming, invading my senses; I hadn’t realized just how close he was until I’d turned, nearly into his chest. I have to tilt my head back to look him in the eyes--something I really shouldn’t be doing, but he doesn’t have the cowl on today. I must be a sucker for pain, because I want to be able to see his face.
“Are you ok?” The same shadows that had circled his eyes last night still remain. I’m not sure he slept at all. At least we both feel miserable. Yesterday I might have been happy about it; today I just feel like an asshole.
“I’m-” Cauldron what am I? Certainly not fine, and truth be told, I don’t feel like lying about it. Not to him. Not after all the lies I’ve already spun.
“If this is about last night…” he pauses, frowning, and gives himself a little shake. “If you’ve changed your mind-”
No, no, no, we definitely cannot be talking about my loyalties! Just because I feel guilty for doing it, doesn’t mean I have to admit to it, right?
“Did you kill Andras?” I blurt instead. It’s the first thing that comes to mind, because looking at him for too long is too damn hard and I keep looking at the blood stain on that tree. And, well I am curious about that. I do want him to tell me no. I want someone, in all of this, to be less of a monster than I thought.
“Yes,” he says.
My heart plummets into my stomach.
“He slit Avos’s throat and left his body in a ditch, there were already animals feeding on him by the time we located him.”
I visibly shudder and he cups my cheek in response. “I meant what I said about not liking violence, but there are things I cannot let go unpunished.”
These are his people, those are his fighting men, it is his job as their warlord to protect them, and if he cannot, it’s his duty to avenge them. I know this. I was raised on that belief. But yet I still feel responsible. If I’d never given Tamlin a reason to throw me out, I never would have ended up here, and Lucien never would have had to bring anyone out to try and rescue me. I would have been blind to the truth of my own people, but at least no one would be dead because of me. At least my heart wouldn’t feel like it was trying to rip itself from my chest to avoid all these terrible things that keep happening.
“Come on,” he gently nudges me towards where his horse is waiting, munching on some grass, when I don’t respond. I don’t miss the hurt that flashes across his features at my silence either. “We have to get moving and we have things to discuss.”
I don’t argue as he helps me into the saddle. He settles in behind me, firm and steady and I have never felt so many conflicting feelings towards a person in my life. I don’t want him to touch me until I know the truth of the matter; I need him to hold me and distract me from the reality of the situation. I want to be far away and I never want to leave all the same.
He calls for his men to get moving and in the span of five minutes, all supplies are packed and stowed and we’re once again moving along the lip of the mountain, a glittering trail of starlight trailing from his hand as he stitches the wards. The pull of his magic is stronger today, I see the ward more clearly, but more than anything I feel it. It makes the hair on my arms stand on end and that thing in my chest stirs again at its response.
It’s a long while before he speaks again. “What did Tamlin tell you about that night?” His voice is subdued, I don’t know if it’s hesitation or the strain or doing this while warding.
I shiver as I run my fingers absently through the horse’s mane. I don’t even know the animal’s name. I don’t know anything at all, not because no one told me, but because I hadn’t cared enough to ask. “He said you rode in, attacked my parents while they slept…”
A growl rumbles through his chest at that.
“He said they were dead by the time he got there and that he managed to fight you off long enough for our men to assemble and they scared the rest of you off.” I run a hand over the scar above my ear.
“Why?”
I twist in the saddle to look at him, nose brushing along the underside of his jaw. He has a scar there I hadn’t noticed, just a little nick like he’d been caught by the tip of a blade just beneath his chin. “Why what?”
“Why did he say I did it?”
“Because you could,” I whisper. “Because you wanted to put us in our place.”
He stiffens. “And you believed him?”
“I-” The truth hovers on the tip of my tongue, too much of it and he’ll see me for what I really am. “Why were you there?”
“I had a sister,” Rhysand whispers. “She was a little younger than you, I think.”
Had. My stomach flips.
“Our people had been meeting to discuss alliances against Amarantha. It was suggested that Tamlin and my sister marry, to unite us.”
I’d never even heard an alliance mentioned. My father hated the Illyrians, even in all my earliest memories. I would have been old enough to be told this was happening, my mother never so much as whispered a possibility that Tam was to marry.
“I never knew,” the words slip out as that stirring in my chest turns into a cavernous ache that might just split me right down the middle. I never knew any of this. Everyone, my father, my mother, Tamlin, hell even Lucien, lied to me.
“If I had known about you then, I would have suggested us as an alternative. She was never keen on the idea of marriage, but you were one of your father’s well kept secrets.”
Marriage? I sleep with the guy one time and he’s thinking about how he could have married me? I can’t be that good in bed. I think this idea of a mating bond is going to his head.
“It is tradition for mothers and daughters to stay a few nights with a betrothed family to ensure that they are a good fit. I was supposed to go with the convoy to make sure they arrived safely, but I got called out here to help fix a broken ward at the last minute.”
His magic stutters for a moment, as if remembering.
My stomach feels like it’s in my throat.
“As I was returning to camp, so was their convoy, or what was left of it. We got their heads in boxes.”
Tears drip down my cheeks and those illusive fangs tear right through my gums as what little magic I have flares.
“We thought it was Amarantha at first. My sister was unmarked so she could be married to someone outside of our clan and my mother…” he clears his throat. “You’ve seen our different crests. The Dark Bringers are what is left of the Night Court’s nobility. Even though they merged with the Illyrians decades ago, they always considered them lesser. They held council and refused my father’s request to mark my mother because of her lowborn status, and insisted he marry another to continue the bloodline. So neither of them bore the protection of the clan and it is Amarantha’s style to attack any unmarked for the fun of it.”
That’s why he was so insistent about me taking his mark in the beginning.
“We were halfway to the Middle, prepared to invade the Imperial City, when one of our spies sent word that there were two sets of Illyrian wings being carted around the Grasslands as trophies.”
There had been a lot of commotion that day, but I’d never seen anything, I’d been inside, dealing with one of my Mother’s episodes before that fight with Tam. I’d conveniently missed every single one of the details I’d needed to see the truth, and I can’t tell for the life of me if it was intentional on either of their parts. This could be a tactic to turn me against Tamlin, couldn’t it? I’d used my own sob story to get inside the camp. But why would he lie now? I’ve already taken his mark, I’ve already slept with him, what would he gain?
“My father intended to kill everyone when we got into camp,” he continues. “He ordered the men to kill everything that moved and burn the rest. I wanted vengeance as much as he did, I will not deny that, but I did talk him down from harming the women and children. Enough innocent blood had been shed. We agreed on that by the time we rode in, but… he was ahead of me and I had gone looking for Tamlin.”
How the hell was Tam even alive after something like this?
“In retribution, my father killed your mother first,” he swallows hard, remembering that detail, and I feel the tears fall anew down my cheeks. “I don’t know why he changed his mind or if he only said he wouldn’t so I wouldn’t stick so close to him. We never really saw eye to eye and there isn’t a day I don’t wish that I had stuck with him when we rode through camp. I could have stopped him. I could have…”
He could have saved her.
“I’m sorry,” his breath is warm on my face as he whispers in my ear. “I’m so sorry.”
“I gave up trying to find Tamlin in the chaos when I heard her scream, but I was too late. By the time I got there, your father had managed to run my father through, but not fast enough to keep his own head from rolling off his shoulders. They died together.”
“And Tamlin?” I ask softly.
“It is tradition to bury a warlord with his sword. I took my father’s sword and I left him there. He had dishonored our traditions in killing your mother, and the Illyrians would see it as a weakness that he died alongside his enemy. So I took his sword and decided that my first act as warlord would be kill Tamlin and merge what was left of your people with mine. I would not abandon the women and children, they could come live in the valley if they took my mark and swore fealty. Except I found Tamlin and Lucien, not fighting, but trying to burn what was left of my mother’s wings.”
How could they have done this? Tam could be cold and cruel but this was… horrific! And Lucien? Lucien who had always said that he and Tam would have made better poets than warriors? Lucien who had often joked that the three of us should run away and start a traveling music group?
“I nearly killed Lucien,” he continues. “Truth be told, I thought I had.”
That was one of the few things I did know. He’d been in a coma for a week.
“And I had Tamlin by the throat, but…” his hand tightens around my waist. “I heard someone calling for him, and for a moment, it sounded like when my sister would call for me. I think it might have been you, now that I’ve gotten to hear your voice. But I never saw you. I just… I realized that if I killed him, I would leave someone alone, as I had become. And I didn’t want to start out my time as Warlord by doing that. So I offered him a truce.”
Gods, I’d saved Tam by pure accident, by being so distraught that I’d done exactly what I’d always been told not to do and had yelled for him in the chaos. Worse, Tam was alive because Rhys had been the better male and in response to that mercy, he’d made Rhys out to be the monster to hide what he had done.
“We wouldn’t kill each other that night, or otherwise, and we would go our separate ways. As long as neither of us raised a hand to the other, our clans would leave each other alone.”
I don’t want to believe that Tam is capable of such atrocities, but the longer I am away from him, the more I realize just how scared of him I have been my entire life. It is not that he has done terrible things, but that deep down I was always scared he was capable of them. I walked on eggshells around him to avoid his anger. He’d lash out and throw things, push me around, belittle me, but he’d never scarred me like my father, and yet, deep down I knew there was a chance he could be pushed to those extremes, I’d just, never dared acknowledge it. Somehow, I’d always rationalized his outbursts as my fault. I pushed him. I gave him too hard a time. I was being too demanding or making too much work for him. I had not let myself consider that maybe I was not the problem in our relationship.
“Maybe I made a mistake in letting him live,” he says. “I just… I didn’t want to turn out like my father. I wanted to be better.”
What have I done? I wish the ground would open up and swallow me. Despite every reason to be the monster everyone always made him out to be, he was a good male. And I turned out to be my father’s daughter.
I slide my hand over his, intertwining our fingers. “You are the better male, Rhys.”
He squeezes my hand in return as his chin drops onto my shoulder. He has to be exhausted from warding and Lucien and keeping watch over the camp last night. The burden of carrying it alone must be astronomical.
“I’m sorry for all of it, I truly didn’t know any of it,” I say.
“Can I ask you something?”
Please no!
“Yes.”
We reach a creek that flows down from the mountain peak. In winter it might be little more than an ice bed, but for now, it is just warm enough for the water to still flow down into the grassy plains beyond.
We stop to let the horses drink, Rhysand helping me off the horse to stretch my legs, his great wings flaring out behind him, as he asks, “Why did you stay, if you thought I had killed them?”
I debate on if the creek is deep enough to drown myself in for a moment. Probably wouldn’t get very far. Especially since he’s standing chest to chest with me.
“I-” I can’t tell him the truth now. If he were to find out what I had planned to do, he’d throw me out! I’d be on my own all over again. I couldn’t, and wouldn’t, go back to Tam, not after this. But now that I know the truth, I truly have nowhere to go. If he were to throw me out, I’d be on my own in the Wastes forever. No family. No shelter. No one.
I don’t know who I’m supposed to be or what I’m supposed to do, but I can’t be alone again. I won’t survive out there!
The guilt may very well eat me alive, but he can’t ever know. “I wanted to see for myself what kind of male you are.”
He cups my cheek, “And what have you decided?”
There is one truth I can give him. “That there’s a lot more to you than I was told, and I’d like to know you better.”
He grins and my heart drops into my stomach. When he kisses me, I kiss him back, hands threading through his thick hair. I won’t ruin his life, he deserves to have something good and happy after all the pain my family has brought to him; I just have to lie to give it to him. I’m already in this deep, is there really any going back now?
---------
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Photos and Crushes - Cowboy AU Jotaro x Reader P2
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3
Word Count: 11488
“I’m not coming here again, that is clear.” Jotaro grumbled as he dusted his jacket off. You were standing beside him, giggling a little as you watched his disgruntled look.
The sun was setting and all the children had just left, finally giving Jotaro some respite.
“Ahw.” You pouted playfully, helping him dust off his back a bit. Jotaro sighed and rolled his eyes at your fake sadness, just grabbing your wrist and starting to drag you away from the church with him as you waved back at the nun, darkness slowly starting to set in.
Jotaro soon released your wrist and the two of you were now walking side by side.
“Thank you for today.”
“Hm?” Jotaro hummed, pretending to not know what you were talking about.
“For everything you did. Putting up with the children, helping cheer them up. And especially... with those riders, of course.” You bashfully glanced at him through your eyelashes, only looking at him from the corner of your eyes.
“It’s fine.” Jotaro grunted and you almost couldn’t understand him with how heavy the grumble in his voice was.
“No, really. You saved me again.” You stopped him with a hand on his arm and Jotaro turned around to look at you with a questioning look. “How can I make it up to you? I feel like merely a drink isn’t good enough this time.” You chuckled sweetly at your own callback and Jotaro felt his throat close up a bit, wanting to clear it but not wanting to come across as awkward.
“Come riding with me tomorrow.”
It was a simple sentence but neither of you knew how flustered the other was with those mere words hanging in the air.
“Alright. I’d love to.” You spoke after a bit, finally having found your courage to answer while holding a mini panic attack and celebration inside your head and chest.
Jotaro on the other hand was having a small existential crisis.
Both of you were lost in your own heads as you continued walking and quickly, the fork in the road where you split up came. You cleared your throat and turned to him. “I’ll, uh, see you tomorrow then?” You questioned and Jotaro nodded.
“I’ll come by at nine.” He spoke, oozing his usual calm and stoic confidant look. You nodded a little shyly and quickly stood on your tiptoes, pressing a kiss to his cheek before taking off in the direction of your home, not looking back even once.
Jotaro swallowed heavily as he watched you run away, still feeling the phantom feeling of your lips on his cheek. And then he nearly clocked a dude right in the face when they swung an arm around his shoulder, surprising him.
Joseph screamed like a little girl as he ducked out of the way of the fist.
“Gramps!” Jotaro called out, exasperated.
“Honestly, Joseph, you need to learn how to read someone’s body language.” Caesar sighed. Seemingly appearing out of nowhere as he now stood to Jotaro’s right, Joseph righting himself and putting his arm back around his grandson from the left.
“You two are back in town?” Jotaro questioned, mostly aimed at Caesar as he pulled his grandfather’s arm off of himself and actively ignored him.
“We never left.”
“Yes we’re back.”
Caesar was quick to shut down Joseph’s attempt at a prank and the man pouted.
“How have you put up with him for all these years?” Jotaro questioned, pointing his thumb back to his grandfather.
“It honestly is a mystery to me as well.” Caesar spoke as Joseph let out an offended noise.
“Well screw you too! Here I was, just trying to be happy for my grandson for finding the love of his life, and I get this thrown at me!”
Jotaro actively tried to ignore that statement as he left the two behind and started walking the last leg to his house.
“Joseph, let me talk to your grandson for a bit.” Caesar patted Joseph’s shoulder and - while the man was pouting - he nodded and motioned Caesar to go.
Jotaro immediately noticed the Italian man walking up beside him and pulled his hat down over his eyes a bit. “You haven’t told her yet, have you?” The silence was answer enough and Caesar hummed a bit. “You know what I said before. And, if what we just saw was any indication, she returns your feelings.”
Jotaro once again didn’t say a thing and instead sped up a bit. But Caesar knew he was thinking about his words.
“Oi, Caesar! It’s my turn to talk to my grandson now!” Joseph called out from behind but Caesar was quick to shush him, pushing the older Joestar into another street to take a different route to the Kujo household and give the young man some peace of mind to think.
Tomorrow was a big day after all.
- - - -
A knocking on your door made you jump up from where you had anxiously been sitting. Nearly tripping on your way to the door, you managed to catch yourself in time and just opened the door.
There stood Jotaro, looking the same as ever and you sent him a quick smile.
“Good morning.”
“Morning.” Jotaro greeted back and he could see you excitedly bouncing, making him chuckle softly as he took a step to the side, giving you a good view of the pitch black horse that was hitched right outside your door.
“Jojo!” You exclaimed happily, running over to the gigantic animal. It was one of the biggest and strongest horses you had seen, an almost blue sheen to its black coat when the sun hit it right.
Upon hearing his name, the horse’s ears turned towards you and you walked up to stand beside it, gently petting its neck.
“Sometimes I think you like him more than me.” Jotaro joked as he walked up behind you after having closed your door that you stupidly left open in your excitement.
“I mean, he is a strong competition but no, I think you still win.” You tilted your head back to look at him and grinned, making Jotaro flick your forehead.
“Let’s go.” He spoke and placed his hands on your waist. The action surprised you and you quickly turned your head away from Jotaro so he couldn’t see your blush at the sudden close contact.
He lifted you without trouble, holding you high enough so that you could swing a leg over the large horse and sit down on the saddle.
“Scoot forward.” Jotaro instructed and you did as he asked while he untied the reins, throwing them back over the neck of the horse before taking hold of the saddle horn and back of the saddle while putting his foot in the stirrup, pulling himself up and swinging his leg over the horse’s back with grace.
Jotaro eased into the saddle, his hand that he used to grab the saddle horn now holding onto the reins, running under your arm and slightly pressed into your side.
Jotaro’s other arm suddenly snuck around your waist, pulling you back just a tiny bit so that your back was pressed into Jotaro’s chest. “Is this more comfortable?” He leaned forward a bit, softly saying that in your ear and making a shudder rack through your body, feeling his breath hit the shell of your ear. God, it was too early to get like this already.
“Y-Yeah.” You let out, clearing your throat as inconspicuously as possible afterwards.
Jotaro just hummed a bit, silently appreciating the cute little stutter in your voice while he let go of your waist, instead moving his hand so that he could hold the reins with both hands now.
Letting out two short clicking noises as he pulled the reins to the left side, Jotaro made Jojo turn, followed up by a small kick into the horse’s belly, urging the beast to start walking.
He almost immediately started up, a steady and confident stride in his steps yet perfectly in tune to the rider on his back.
You knew that Jotaro and Jojo had a good connection, the man having taken care of the animal ever since it was a foal. It still surprised you every day you saw the horse however, of how well trained he was. With its size, it could most likely trample everything in its path, yet he was the definition of a gentle giant.
It was your personal belief that the reason for that was because Jotaro had always doted on the animal. He had never admitted to it but you knew that despite the hardass, asshole attitude he had, he loved this horse.
“Relax a bit, you’re completely stiff.” Jotaro suddenly spoke up from behind you and you realised you had been lost in thought.
“Oh, sorry.” You quietly spoke, shuffling your butt a tiny bit to get a little more comfortable in the saddle. You might be a bit cramped and pushed to the front, but it was a lot better than sitting behind the saddle on the rump of the horse. Not only was there not a comfortable saddle back there, Jotaro’s massive frame also made it so that you could never properly look around. The two of you had tried that once the very first time, but after that it was always ‘you in front, Jotaro behind you’. Not that you rode with Jotaro too often. In fact, in the two years you knew him, it had only happened a handful of times. And yet, here you now sat.
“I thought I said relax.” Jotaro suddenly grumbled from behind, wrapping his arm back around your waist and pulling you back so that you were fully leaning against his chest. Instantly, you could feel yourself start to blush heavily as you began to properly sway with the movements of the horse, your back pressed against Jotaro.
“Sorry, uh, I was a bit lost in thought.” You tried to excuse yourself, the awkward smile on your face that he couldn’t see turning into surprise when Jotaro put his chin on the top of your head. In response to you he said nothing, only humming a bit, which you felt vibrate a little on your head.
You could feel Jotaro turn his head left and right as he looked both ways before crossing the street, lifting his head from yours once you reached the other side and spurring the horse into a light trot.
Jojo’s hooves pounded satisfyingly on the dirt road, the horse’s trot a comfortable ride despite his large size.
At the end of the street, Jotaro went right and you both passed the small church.
The sister just so happened to be outside, cleaning the steps and now looking up to see the two young people ride by. You noticed her as well, sending a smile and a wave while Jotaro subtly nodded, almost impossible to see for the nun who stood so far away. Yet still she smiled warmly and waved back, her look turning a bit more knowing as the horse passed by. She could almost smell what was blooming between those two from where she stood.
After a few minutes of a relaxed trot, you two were almost out of town when,
“JOTARO!”
The loud yet faraway shout made you lift your head up and look around while Jotaro gritted his teeth and pointedly refused to look anywhere but right in front of himself.
“Hey! Jotaro!”
At that, the man sitting behind you spurred his horse into a canter, holding you up against himself as he stood up in the stirrups slightly so that the animal beneath you could properly move.
Jotaro just noped the fuck out the moment he heard his grandfather’s voice. Whatever he wanted, it could wait. He had let his mother know he would most likely be gone most of the day if not all day with his horse and he was sure his mother would have told the old man as well. Right now, he was fairly certain that Joseph had seen you sitting in front and if he was allowed to talk to you, he’d definitely do everything he could to embarrass Jotaro. And no way was he letting that happen.
Running away when you were on horse and the pursuer on foot made it almost too easy and Jotaro looked back briefly, seeing the old man stand in the middle of the road, looking defeated as he became smaller and smaller while the pair on horseback left the town.
As soon as he thought you were far enough away, Jotaro slowed Jojo back into a trot and then back into a step, settling back into the saddle with you and unwrapping his left arm from your waist.
Or at least, that was the plan until his hand got snagged in your belt loop. Confused at first, he tugged just a little firmer, accidentally tugging at you while he felt something digging into the side of his hand, piercing through his skin.
“Oh!” You exclaimed in a bit of surprise when Jotaro nearly tugged you forward into the saddle.
Jotaro swallowed before he looked down over your shoulder as to what had happened, having no choice but to rest his wrist against your hipbone.
Somehow, he had trapped two of his fingers in your belt, and now the prong of your belt buckle had just straight up embedded itself into the side of the palm of his hand.
“Shit, sorry.” Jotaro quickly apologised as he tried to twist his hand out, but the prong punctured into his hand refrained him from moving without it digging painfully into his hand.
“No, it’s okay, just- here-“ Your delicate fingers wrapped around his, stopping him from squirming as you then pressed his hand flat into your stomach, using the clearer view to see how you could untangle him. “Who was that anyway?”
“My grandfather.” Jotaro answered as he felt himself blush, feeling the soft expanse of your stomach beneath his hand - even if it still was covered up with your shirt - was enough to make the boy flustered.
When you untangled his fingers, the prong still inside his hand, Jotaro couldn’t keep himself from softly squeezing your stomach. Just a small twitch of his fingers, digging the pads down just a little bit. It felt wrong to do morally but... god, he wanted to be able to keep doing that. Maybe Caesar was right. He had been doubting whether or not he should use today to confess but-
Unknowingly, in his thoughts, Jotaro squeezed again. While you hadn’t noticed the first time, you did now.
The man stopped breathing for a second, afraid he had overstepped and that you’d be mad, but you merely quietly apologised for hurting him, slowly and carefully sliding his hand off the prong, some blood dripping from the small puncture wound in his hand.
Jotaro moved his hand to the side so he wouldn’t bleed on either your clothes or his saddle, simultaneously looking away to the right to hide his raging blush as he gently pulled on the reins to make Jojo stop walking.
He got himself stuck and then impulsively touched you when you pressed his hand into your stomach, yet you were too oblivious to notice. Granted, you were the one to place his hand there, but still. Your mind was just so focused on helping him that you didn’t even notice the world around you. You were so sweet and selfless.
Of course Jotaro couldn’t have helped but fall head over heels for you.
Procuring a handkerchief from somewhere within your pocket, you grasped Jotaro’s hand again and gently wrapped it up.
The man shifted a little in the saddle behind you as you tied the knot and he cleared his throat. “Thanks.”
“No problem, uhm- oh! We stopped.” You only just now noticed and Jotaro turned his head back forward so he could look down on you. God, you really were oblivious, making his heart tighten fondly in his chest. “Anyways, why’d you run away from your grandpa?”
“Because I know him and if I stopped, we would have never left town.” Jotaro explained, and, in a way, he was not lying. For, if his grandfather had teased him and you, Jotaro might have just gotten cold feet and turned around with a ruined mood.
With a small sigh to shake that thought off, Jotaro spurred Jojo back into walking, the horse’s firm steps easily and quickly bringing them up and down the uneven terrain of the planes.
“So, where are we going?” You spoke up after a bit.
“The forest right outside the planes.”
You gasped at that and twisted your body around to look at Jotaro with a massive smile. “Really?!” He merely hummed in affirmation and an excited laugh burst from your throat, with you slinging your arms around Jotaro in a giddy hug.
“Hey, don’t be reckless, I have to ride.” Jotaro chastised you, but really it was just because he could feel his cheeks flame up, his heart beating sporadically at feeling your chest pressed against his and your arms around him.
At that you pulled back (Jotaro managing just in time to steel his expression), a sly look on your face. “Jojo is a competent enough horse, he can steer himself.”
“Tch.”
“That is a subtle way of me saying you raised him well, mister.” Your voice turned a little softer, an almost proud undertone shining through that made a small blush appear on the brooding man’s cheeks at your compliment.
“S-Shut up.”
“Make me.”
Ohhh, that was the wrong thing to say for Jotaro. His breathing became a bit laboured as he immediately thought of all the ways he could in fact shut you up while you turned to sit straight again. His hands holding the reigns squeezed hard and to make sure you wouldn’t notice, he released his left hand and instead placed it on his thigh, bunching the fabric there and squeezing tightly while his right hand that was still in your view was completely lax, just nonchalantly holding the reigns.
“If I want to compliment you I will, there’s nothing you can do about it.” You finished your statement after a second or two and Jotaro released his thigh. Of course, this was you he was talking about. Little old oblivious and innocent you who had no idea what effects simple words from you had on him.
“Compliment those who want it.” Was his gruff response but inside he wanted to kick himself. He did want your compliments, he was just shit at accepting them.
“I sure will.” You smiled slyly and suddenly leaned forward, leaving the warmth of Jotaro’s chest as you hovered your upper body over the neck of the horse you were sat on. “Jojo, you’re such a good boy! So strong and pretty! Yes you are! Yes!” You cooed at the animal, now affectionately patting and slapping the horse’s neck, getting a snort and happy turning of the ears in return.
“Don’t praise him so much, he’ll get spoiled.” Jotaro’s voice piped up from behind you, sounding a little disgruntled.
“You said to compliment those who want it. And besides, what can I say, I got a lot of love to give.” You shrugged with a small smile as you sat back up, twisting backwards in the saddle just a little so you could look at Jotaro.
“Well, put it elsewhere.”
“Like with you?” You teased and Jotaro turned his head to the side, tilting it down a little so his hat would obstruct your view of his face, though you saw the slight pout he sported.
“If it keeps you from turning my horse into a brat.” He responded, making you laugh lightly.
Now he had to accept your compliments, whether he wanted to or not.
- - - -
It took about an hour and a half of riding to cross the planes, switching between a step and a trot every now and then to speed the process up just a little bit.
The view was beautiful of course, some wild animals roaming around through nature. At one point a herd of wild horses had ran past, much to your awe and delight.
But still you were more than excited to get to the forest. You hadn’t been there in so long due to how far away it was, even on horseback, and now couldn’t wait.
Right now, Jojo was slowly climbing a small hill, huffing and snorting a bit as Jotaro needed to keep the reigns taut. It was steep and one of the few things the horse was still fussy about doing, especially now that he had two people on his back. Jotaro had to keep a firm and steady hand to keep him in check, making his arms tightly sit against your sides to do so, even squeezing a bit in order to keep the reigns steady.
You knew that was the reason for it of course, but still, you couldn’t help but blush at feeling his arms so tightly against you, caging you in and keeping you steady while his chin leaned on your shoulder, his hot breath fanning past your cheek as he looked down over you at what he was doing.
Finally, you reached the top of the hill. Jotaro let up on the tight squeeze of his arms at your sides and only now you suddenly noticed how his thighs had been squeezing as well, his knees pressed against your legs. “Sorry.” He mumbled and you cleared your throat.
“No it’s okay, you needed to.”
Jotaro hummed a bit at that and suddenly leaned forward, pressing his chest into your back and pushing you down as he gave the side of Jojo’s neck a few approving slaps for climbing the hill.
He had attempted to lean a bit around you but that proved futile as he pushed you down with him all the same.
Sitting back up together, you opened and closed your mouth like a fish, not knowing what to say, but all of those thoughts were thrown out the window when you saw the forest, the landscape having been hidden behind the hill before.
Your sudden gasp slightly scared Jotaro, afraid it was because of him pushing you down and that he fucked up, but when he saw you turn around to look at him with that giant smile and sparkle in your eye, he knew it was fine.
“Do you want to take us there?” He asked all of a sudden and you furrowed your brow in confusion.
When you didn’t get the hint because you were looking back at him, Jotaro playfully rolled his eyes and grabbed your right hand, making you snap your head forward to see his large hand enveloping yours, leading it over to the reigns he was still loosely holding in his left before wrapping your hand around the leather.
“R-Really?” You asked back at him, genuinely taken aback. You didn’t expect Jotaro to so easily give you the reigns to the horse he cared so much about. He was completely calm and relaxed, a small hint of a smile playing on his lips as he urged you to take it with your other hand as well, as if it was no big deal. He just handed you the control and trusted you with barely a word. “Are you sure?”
“Yes. Just use both hands, he’s a strong horse.” Jotaro answered from behind, his voice a little more soft than you were used to and you felt yourself start to blush again.
Bringing your other hand up, you gripped the reigns with both hands, making Jotaro let go with his left as well, completely leaving you in control.
Jotaro gently nudged his heels and Jojo started stepping again.
Almost immediately after getting moving, a pair of hands landed on your waist and you looked down to see Jotaro was holding onto you like that, his hands on your waist so he wouldn’t fall.
In all honesty, you highly doubted he would fall at all, ever. But you couldn’t fault him for just wanting to hang on, so you didn’t say anything, instead just silently musing about how nice and warm and big his hands were.
Jotaro, at the same time, was musing about how small and soft you felt while he was holding you, trying to calm down his beating heart from making the bold move to hold you like this.
A curve in the road was coming up and you pulled the reigns to the right softly, only for Jojo to keep going forward, seemingly not heeding your signal at all.
You tried again, a little firmer this time, but still nothing. “He- He’s not turning.” You spoke with a small voice, feeling embarrassment wash over you. All you had been given were reigns and you couldn’t even make a simple turn to the right correctly?
Jotaro, hearing you and sensing your distress, gave your waist a small squeeze. “It’s alright.” He spoke but you felt disappointed in yourself. “Jojo’s not an easy horse.”
“Somehow I don’t believe that.” Your lips were curved down a bit and when you pulled on the reigns to try and get him to stop, Jojo wouldn’t even do that. A small noise left you and Jotaro was quick to grab hold of the reigns as well, pulling firmly with one hand and getting the horse to stop.
You let go of the reigns and buried your face in your hands while Jotaro let go as well, bringing his hand back to his side and leaning it on his leg as he looked at the back of your neck, his other hand still on your waist. “I’m sorry.” Your apology was a bit muffled but a soft look chased away the usual frown that Jotaro wore at your words.
“There’s no need to be. Jojo is stubborn and it takes practice to ride him.”
“I have not ever seen him be stubborn. He is literally the sweetest horse I know.” You said, lifting your head from your hands and looking back at Jotaro. For the first time you noticed the uncharacteristically soft look on his face and you suddenly felt a lot better already.
“That’s because you’ve only ever seen him with me.” At that you raised an eyebrow, a faint smile returning to your lips, much to Jotaro’s delight.
“Oh so he is only so sweet when you’re around, huh?” You remarked, getting a soft snort from Jotaro. “See, I told you you trained him well.” You then said softly and a warm feeling spread through the man’s chest.
“Want to try again? I’ll help.”
Nodding, you turned back around in the saddle and grabbed hold of the reins a little hesitantly.
“With Jojo it is important to keep your elbows pressed into your sides at all times.” He gently cupped your elbows and pushed them into your sides. Jojo, who had hung his head low to graze a bit at a small patch of grass, was forced to raise his head now that the reins went a little taut.
With your elbows in place, Jotaro shuffled a little bit more back before sliding you back up against him, his chest pressing against you and allowing you to feel the muscle even through the clothing in between.
Bringing his arms around yours, Jotaro grasped hold of your hands, enveloping them with his own and holding onto the reins that way. His head was leaned forward and his cheek almost pressed against yours as he looked over your shoulder.
“Be confident but don’t suddenly tug.” He explained as he showed exactly what he meant, pulling his - and by extension your - hand outward to the right, gentle but firm.
Almost immediately, Jojo started turning on his axis, Jotaro giving a small nudge in the stallion’s belly to get him to start moving again when he was pointed in the right direction.
“He knows you’re the one doing it, he just has a soft spot for you.” You remarked, but Jotaro happily noted the sweet lilt in your voice, showing you were no longer that hung up about the whole thing.
Still, he couldn’t help but want to cheer you up even more. “If we are being honest, I think he has a soft spot for you too. Not many can approach him like you do. Not even my grandfather can.”
“Really?”
“Mhm.” Jotaro hummed affirmatively. “He gets huffy when they do. But not with you.” He leaned sideways to the right a little bit as he said that last sentence, allowing him to turn his head left to properly look at you and bring his point home.
Your eyes were a bit wide as you looked at him before a smile split your face. Jotaro had the sudden urge to press a kiss to your temple but refrained himself, sitting straight in the saddle again and focusing back on the reins and how his hands sat over yours.
Suddenly kicking into the belly of the beast, Jotaro spurred his horse into a trot when you reached the bottom of the large hill, much to your surprise. “Try turning.” Jotaro spoke over the sound of the hooves.
His hands were still over yours, giving you some confidence but still, you tried pulling the reins left, Jotaro guiding you a bit as he helped pull firmer, showing you exactly how hard you needed to work the reins to get Jojo to turn.
In a steady trot, you started to zig-zag on the road. After the fifth turn, Jotaro was no longer helping with pulling the reins and he let go, returning his hands to holding onto your waist.
Jojo was powerfully trotting to the left and you now tried to steer him back to the middle of the path, without even the semblance of Jotaro helping doing it. And, without a fuss or huff, Jojo turned - just as smoothly as he did when Jotaro was the one in control.
A wave of pride flushed through your chest and Jotaro watched as you guided Jojo the rest of the way to the forest.
Once you were about fifteen meters away, you pulled the reins and Jojo slowed down to a step.
“Well done.” Jotaro praised you before looking around a bit. “Stop here.” He said after a few meters and you pulled the reins, bringing the horse to a stop.
Reaching his hand around you again, Jotaro grabbed hold of the saddle horn before swinging his left leg over the animal and dismounting, holding his arms up for you moments after.
You put the reins behind the horn before scooting back in the saddle and swinging your left leg over Jojo as well, only, different from Jotaro, you swung it over his neck so that you were sitting sideways in the saddle. This allowed Jotaro to grab you by the waist and lift you off, gently placing you on the ground.
Once he was sure you were steady, he stepped up to the side of Jojo and patted his neck a few times before swinging the reins over the animal’s head so that he could lead him.
Taking hold of the leather reins in his left hand, Jotaro expectantly turned back to face you and you smiled, realising what he meant.
You skipped up to beside him and stood next to him, ready to enter the forest for the first time in like three years.
Jojo had a different plan however as he suddenly stepped sideways, walking from Jotaro’s left side, over to the right, where you stood - forcing Jotaro to switch the reins behind his back from his left hand to his right - and nudging your shoulder with his head.
“Oh!” You called out in surprise as you were thrown forward a bit by the powerful nudge before turning around. Placing your hand on the nose of the animal, you gently scratched his forehead and neck, Jotaro smirking at you from the side.
“I told you he likes you.”
- - - -
Jotaro watched as you ran around the forest in awe.
Months ago, he had heard you talk about the last time you went to the forest. The sparkle and longing in your eyes as you did showed him how much you loved the collection of trees and he vowed back then to take you to one one day.
And he had to admit you were right, it was really pretty. Though, his eyes were mainly focused on you, not the forest.
With his left hand still holding onto Jojo’s lead, Jotaro followed with his horse as you frolicked through the trees, looking at every bush and plant as if it was your first time seeing green.
“Y/N, don’t stray too far!” He called out when he had to lead his horse around a closer cluster of trees that the large animal he was leading couldn’t fit through.
Walking around, Jotaro looked to where you had been, only to see you nowhere in sight. “Y/N?”
Walking forward, he looked around with furrowed brows, slight worry eating away at him in the pit of his stomach. Where did you go? He called your name once more, once again with no answer.
Suddenly, a pinecone hit him right on the nose, making him curse loudly.
“Oh no! I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to, I-!” Jotaro slowly raised his head up, following the sound of your voice to see you sitting in between the branches of a tree, your hand guiltily slapped in front of your mouth. Quietly muttering, “I didn’t meant to.”
“Ouch.” He pointedly spoke, holding direct eye contact with you and you quickly climbed out of the tree, jumping down the last bit by hanging off a branch and dropping a way too large drop for Jotaro’s liking before rushing over.
“I didn’t mean to hit you in the face, I just wanted to get you by surprise.” You apologised as you took his face into your hands, checking him over and gently running your thumb over the bridge of his nose where a very tiny chafe now marred the side.
“You’re shit at throwing things, you should know that by now.” Jotaro said and raised his eyebrow.
“Yeah...” You admitted with your head hung low before looking up at him through your lashes, looking a little bit like a kicked puppy. “Are you okay?”
“Y/N, I’ve been hit with a lot worse than a pinecone, especially with your weak throw.” He grabbed both your wrists, though he did not pull your hands away from his face, just simply holding you; Jojo’s leash now just hanging on his arm.
“Oi, now you’re just being mean.” You pouted and the corner of Jotaro’s mouth quirked up.
“I think I am allowed to. You assaulted me.”
“I said I was sorry!”
“But are you?”
“Yes!” You nearly shrieked out, Jotaro cocking his head a little to the side as he looked at you.
All of a sudden, you realised how close to each other you were standing, your nose mere centimeters from touching his.
Jotaro saw you visibly start as you pulled back a bit, an awkward smile on your face as you cleared your throat.
You took a step back, letting go of his face and bringing your arms down, though Jotaro was still holding your wrists.
“Well, at least you’re okay.” You smiled a bit while Jotaro looked at you, closing his eyes a second later as he released your wrists.
“You are a real problem sometimes, you know that?”
“Yeah, I think I do.” You giggled softly and Jotaro huffed in amusement.
“I’ll just have to keep an eye on you.”
With that, he grabbed hold of your left hand, pulling you to his side before starting to walk forward, having re-gripped the reins in his left so he could lead Jojo along.
Your eyes were slightly wide, a light blush on your face as you were dragged along with him.
Walking in step with the man next to you, your eyes were stuck between looking around and constantly honing back in on him. You couldn’t help it.
His hand was so confidently holding yours, a firm grip while he led you along through the forest.
Opting to just take it as it is, you went to look around again, a small blush on your cheeks while your eyes trailed up to the canopy of the trees, seeing two birds sitting side by side.
Suddenly, you tripped over a branch that got stuck between your feet, saved only by Jotaro’s hold on you as he quickly reacted and pulled your arm up, keeping you from face planting on the forest floor.
“T-Thanks.” You breathed out as you used his hand and arm to clumsily get yourself back on your feet.
Jotaro merely grunted in response but suddenly interlaced his fingers with yours, giving your hand a small squeeze. “Try not to trip again.”
You looked up at him in surprise but he was looking forward, his ears a slight red hue while most of his face was shadowed by his hat.
Opting to just stay silent, you looked around at the forest, simultaneously relishing inside your head as to how nicely Jotaro’s hand fit around yours, his fingers tightening and re-gripping your hand once.
Coming from all around, the sounds of the forest calmed your beating heart. Jojo’s hooves softly stomping on the forest floor - paired with your and Jotaro’s footsteps - birds chirping and singing to each other, the wind rushing through the canopies, rustling the leaves of the trees.
You thought that maybe you’d be disappointed when you came back here after years. That the memories you made as a younger you would have overblown and made things way more fantasised and pretty than it actually was; that couldn’t be further from the truth.
Silently, Jotaro watched you as you looked around. Your face was stuck in a constant state of awe, a happy glint in your eye that would not leave as you took in the forest around you, amazed and perplexed.
His heart was absolutely hammering in his chest as he couldn’t keep his eyes off of you. He didn’t know if it was a conscious action on your part, but whenever you would see something that caught your attention, your fingers would twitch in excitement, giving his hand the gentlest of squeezes that made him way more flustered than he’d like to admit.
God, Jotaro had it down bad for you, and he didn’t know if he could keep his feelings in for much longer.
He had a hunch that you liked him back, but he wasn’t sure. And on the off chance that you didn’t like him back, was it worth the risk losing your friendship as it was now?
As he let his eyes drift to the side and away from you, he suddenly spotted something.
“Y/N.” He uttered your name as a mere whisper, making you turn your head with a questioning look as he brought his left hand to his lips, making a shushing motion.
Turning to his left, he quickly wrapped Jojo’s reins around a thick tree branch sticking out, leaving his horse tied down as he then quietly walked forward, taking you with him by the hand he was still holding you with. You got the hint to remain quiet and followed him as stealthily as possible.
Sneaking around trees, Jotaro made you crouch down low as he continued to lead you with him. Right up until you both sat down behind a fallen over log.
Once more motioning you to keep quiet, Jotaro lifted his hand and pointed a little bit to the right. You followed his arm to where he was pointing, only to see a cluster of wild deer standing there, grazing.
A small quiet gasp left you as you saw them and you turned to look at Jotaro, a giant smile on your face that made his heart skip a beat. He squeezed your hand in response and you tightly gripped his’ back while you looked at the animals again.
Just feeling you so tightly hold on, your shoulder touching his as you were crouched behind the fallen over log, there was nowhere else that Jotaro would rather be.
“Did you know fawns do not have a detectable smell? That way predators cannot smell and find them.” Jotaro quietly spoke up, having leaned a bit more into you to whisper that into your ear so that the deer would not get alerted by your presences.
“Really?” You questioned, almost with childlike wonder, and Jotaro nodded, the corners of his mouth quirking up ever so slightly, showing how content he was. “What else?” You questioned, hoping he knew more.
“Well, some deer have been seen eating infant birds, which is uncanny since deer are primarily herbivores.” Jotaro said that with a little hesitancy. He just said the first thing that came to mind, realising only once he said it how gruesome what he actually said was. But you were quick to put him at ease.
“Oh that’s nasty. I thought they were the nice animals.” You joked a bit as you turned back to watching the deer.
Reassured by your words, Jotaro continued. “Some mothers digest their foetuses if times are hard and she is malnourished.” By now, he was not looking at the deer at all anymore. Just watching your expressions as you looked at the animals and your reactions to the information he gave you. Wanting to see you react to his words, to him.
“How hard would surviving have to be if you need to resort to... that.” Jotaro watched as your brows furrowed a bit, your lips turning downwards some as you showed compassion for those deer that you most likely would never even cross paths with. “What else?” Your whisper was barely audible but Jotaro did hear and swallowed a bit nervously. Oh god, why was he nervous?
“Well, deer practice both polygamy as well as monogamy.” His eyes drifted down to your hands still entwined together, drifting back up after to see your reaction.
“Huh, I thought the bucks would just... get whatever female they can have.” You spoke, still looking entranced by the animals further ahead.
“No. Some- some mate for life.”
His words were accompanied by a soft squeeze of your hand and with that, you finally turned back to look at Jotaro. And right then and there he decided that; yes, it was worth it.
“Y/N.” He started as he turned to his right, now fully facing you, making you turn your body slightly toward him as well while he had his head tilted down, burning holes into the log to his left as he questioned himself. Was he really just gonna do it?
“Jotaro?” You questioned after a minute of silence.
Jotaro looked at the forest floor for a second longer before abruptly raising his head. “I’m in love with you.”
Blinking twice, it took a second before you recoiled a bit in shock, Jotaro looking right into your eyes as he said that, looking the most serious he could and only then did the words he spoke actually sink in. “...What?” You questioned with a breathless voice, your eyes wide.
“You heard me. I don’t want to say it again.” Jotaro leaned forward and grabbed your other hand as well, his eyes darting down to it and back up to your eyes.
He gently tugged you towards himself, placing your hand on his side before letting go and putting his left hand on the side of your face, his right still entwined with yours. Slowly, he started leaning in, searching your eyes to see what you were thinking.
“Jotaro?” You whispered softly, an unsure tone in your voice.
“Stop me if you don’t want it.” He quietly said back before leaning in fully, softly connecting his lips with yours as he closed his eyes.
Your eyes were wide as your brain tried to catch up with what was happening. But then, your eyes just fluttered closed and tentatively, you leaned into him, kissing back.
Feeling you kiss back, a massive weight got lifted from Jotaro’s shoulders and he wasted no time, eagerly sliding his hand from your jaw to the back of your head so he could pull you closer, deepening the kiss sweetly as he tilted his head a bit.
He had waited so long for this, and it was everything he had imagined it would be so many times. It was addicting. You were addicting. But this was one addiction he did not want to stop.
Your lips were just so soft and warm and the feeling of kissing you after all this time made that nervous flutter in his chest into a fire. With his hand still holding yours he squeezed softly, his lips continuing to move with yours before you squeezed back, making Jotaro hum a bit.
Slowly, the two of you broke apart, Jotaro returning his hand back to cupping your cheek, very gently running his thumb over your cheekbone as he took in your flushed face.
For the first time ever, a deep red blush was visible to you on his face as well, and just the thought of him blushing so much over you caused your own blush to burn even brighter.
The two of you just looked at each other in silence for a bit, stunned and letting sink in what actually just happened.
“Did you ever realise I was sweet on you?” Jotaro questioned after a bit and you shook your head, though your heart skipped a beat at his words. “You really are oblivious then.” He spoke but there was a small smile on his face, his thumb still rubbing back and forth. “Everyone else seemed to see it, even the brats you teach. But I guess it worked out for the best.” With that he lifted his right hand, turning it so that the back of your hand was facing him as he brought it up to his mouth. He didn’t outright press a kiss to it, just simply holding it there against his lips, but you felt butterflies crashing around in your stomach at the action.
“I-I’m sorry then.” You apologised but Jotaro clicked his tongue, bringing your hands down and finally untangling them as he instead brought it up to cradle your head, his eyes piercing into yours.
“Don’t ever apologise. I don’t want you to change, you don’t have to. Understood?”
You nodded a small nod, lost in his eyes as he wouldn’t look away.
“Good.” He fell into a small silence as his face shifted to appear a little warmer again. “Can- I kiss you again?”
“Yeah.” You smiled shyly and Jotaro’s gaze drifted down to your lips, slowly leaning forward-
Several thumps echoed through the forest and both your heads shot up to see the entire herd of deer suddenly springing and running away, rapidly moving in the direction of you and Jotaro before rushing past to the right, huffing and grunting slightly as they ran.
“W-Why did they do that?” You asked, having a hunch you did not like as the both of you quickly got up onto your feet properly.
“Something must have spooked them.” Jotaro remarked, scanning the tree line and you looked up at him with worry. “Let’s go, come on.”
You were about to start moving when harsh barks and growls echoed from behind you two, further into the forest.
Your eyes widened in fear but Jotaro wasted no time in grabbing your hand as he started running through the forest, back to where he left Jojo.
More barks sounded, getting louder as you ran and Jotaro whistled loudly, warning Jojo to get ready as the two of you ran towards the horse.
As soon as you reached the large animal, a howl sounded behind yourself and you gasped, starting to look behind you but not getting the chance to as Jotaro picked you up by your hips and lifted you onto the saddle.
Having a good view and vantage point now, you easily saw the pack of wolves running through the trees towards you while Jotaro quickly untangled the reins, throwing them over his horse’s neck before putting his foot into the stirrup.
“Jojo, go!” Jotaro shouted out, his left leg barely over the animal’s back as he pulled the reins to the right, the horse immediately reacting as all his muscles - that had been tensed in preparation - were now being utilised, the animal shooting forward as if an arrow out of a bow while Jotaro only still hung on the side.
And right on time, as the wolves reached you the moment Jojo began running, leaving them going in pursuit while Jotaro finished slinging his leg over the saddle, jamming his other foot into the stirrup.
The man behind you immediately stood up in the stirrups as Jojo accelerated into a gallop in just a few seconds. With his right arm around your waist, Jotaro lifted you up with him as well, holding you pressed firmly against his chest since you didn’t have the stirrups to stand in.
Leaning forward over the neck of the horse, you could feel Jotaro’s breath against your ear, the man’s warm chest pressed firmly against your back as he held you up and simultaneously tilted forward, providing as little air resistance as possible to run.
Horse hooves galloped over the dirt, the sounds heavy and thundering as Jojo ran at full speed through the forest, dodging trees left and right, branches breaking as the horse barrelled through underbrush.
The wolves growled and barked hard, nipping at the larger animal’s side when they could. “Come on, Jojo!” Jotaro shouted, the horse pushing just a bit harder and gaining on the canines.
Bursting through even more bushes, a thick fallen over tree suddenly blocked the way. Without missing a beat, Jojo vaulted over it, all the noise momentarily seemed to cease as you flew through the air, right up until the stallion crashed back onto the forest floor. Immediately, Jojo rushed on, sprinting ahead while the wolves jumped over the log as well, still in pursuit.
Wind rushed past, trees still being dodged left and right by the horse right up until he reached the edge of the forest, breaking through brush and running out, back onto the plains, the loud barks and growls of the wolves going in pursuit slowly dwindling and decreasing the farther away from the forest you got - the canines no longer finding it worth it to waste their energy by going in pursuit.
Jotaro chanced a glance behind as you continued to gallop away, seeing the wolves slow down and stop, just watching as you all ran away, becoming smaller and smaller with each second.
- - - -
After what felt like forever, Jotaro finally pulled on the reins, slowing Jojo into a canter before going into a trot and then a step, sitting back down in the saddle, bringing you down with him as well and finally letting go of his arm around your waist.
His breathing was slightly heavy as he pulled once more, coming to a complete stop.
Slightly turning around in the saddle and looking behind himself once more, there was no sign of the wolves and Jotaro let out a deep sigh, turning forward again and lifting his hat from his head to run a hand through his hair before putting it back on.
Putting one hand on your waist, Jotaro leaned forward and patted Jojo’s neck, calming the animal down as he praised it.
“That was, uh- that was- yeah, that was.” You concluded, just shortly laughing at the end, more to get rid of the nerves and adrenalin that had been shooting through your body than anything else.
“It was.” Jotaro chuckled softly as you looked back at him, just huffing a laugh of your own as you turned to look forward again, instead slumping back into Jotaro, leaning against him as you let out a deep sigh; Jotaro automatically placing his hands on your hips to hold you.
“It could’ve gone quite wrong had you and Jojo not been as fast as you were.” You took in a deep breath before sitting up straight again, figuring to not put all your weight on the man behind you. “I forgot that was the reason why my dad always carried a massive rifle when we used to go there.” You said but heard Jotaro ‘tch’ behind you as he let you go.
A disagreeing rumble sounded from in his chest. “There’s no need to shoot innocent animals just because they are hungry or feel threatened.”
“Thinking like that will easily get you into trouble, partner.” A new voice said, making you and Jotaro snap to attention, seeing a man with another rider behind him - both of them carrying rifles - walking up from behind, putting you both on high alert.
A snarl developed on Jotaro’s face as he crossed eyes with the man up front. “You. What do you want?”
Your eyes were slightly wide as you recognised him. He was the leader of the group of riders who had come to rob the church yesterday...
The man’s eyes glided from Jotaro, down to you, and back up while he circled around, and Jotaro didn’t like it one bit, snaking his right arm around your waist and discreetly yet protectively pulling you closer.
Looking behind himself from the corner of his eye, Jotaro took note of the other rider - he had hung back and was now walking his horse to stand behind Jojo - though his main focus remained on the man from yesterday.
“Well what kind of greeting is that? I see you still haven’t learnt some manners, boy. But then again, why would you?” The man from before grinned and Jotaro narrowed his eyes. While his friend was just a few meters behind, this outlaw was standing about seven meters away in front. “Do you have any guesses as to why we’re here?”
“...”
Jotaro didn’t say anything as he sized the other man up, a dangerous glare on his face, borderline scowl.
Seeing as Jotaro wasn’t answering, the man took it upon himself to do so, a suddenly dangerous aura around him, masked by mock politeness. “Let me get straight to the point then. You know what you did with your little stunt yesterday?” He cocked his head, trying to incite a physical response though he got none. “You humiliated me. Hurt my pride.” He placed his hand on his chest as if in hurt, looking down for a second before snapping his eyes open and staring into Jotaro’s eyes with an almost deranged look. “And I care about my pride. So I think I’ll hurt something you care about.”
Your eyes widened as the world seemed to slow down, the man pulling his revolver up and pointing it at straight you, the sound of a gun cocking behind yourselves as well.
Yet Jotaro was faster, signaling Jojo and making the horse spring into action on the command.
The giant black stallion bucked backward and slammed his hind legs into the rider standing behind himself, causing the man to be roughly kicked out of the saddle, instantly taken out of the fight by the harsh impact of the giant animal’s hooves on his temple and torso, his horse scaring and sprinting away simultaneously.
A gunshot sounded at the same time, a bullet whizzing just over your and Jotaro’s heads.
The leader had aimed for your head but due to Jojo bucking, you and Jotaro had leaned down, the bullet shooting past where your heads had just been.
Jojo landed back on all four of his legs and Jotaro kicked his belly, urging him to go, but the outlaw was quicker than Jotaro expected, him having already reloaded before the horse could even start to run.
You felt Jotaro’s hand on your waist tighten as he yanked you aside to the right just when a gunshot sounded.
Attempting to shield himself with his left arm, Jotaro let out a short shout in pain as the bullet seared through his flesh, shooting straight through the middle of his forearm and embedding itself right underneath his left clavicle.
“Jotaro!!” You called out in fear and Jotaro gritted his teeth, growling slightly as he let go of your waist after pulling you back up, yanking the reins to the left to make Jojo turn while he grabbed his gun from behind his back, aiming it at the man.
Said man had his gun pointed at Jotaro in a similar fashion, once more resulting in a stand off between the two.
“What’re you gonna do now that there ain’t no sheriff to come to your aid?” The outlaw smirked but Jotaro calmly stared down the barrel of the gun.
“Don’t need one.”
With that, he fired his gun while simultaneously making Jojo prance up, confusing the gang member enough to make his bullet go wide, only for the man to yelp as Jotaro’s bullet shot into his gun, making him drop the thing.
You fell back into Jotaro when the stallion suddenly got up on his hind legs, the young man letting out a pained grunt as you did, right before Jojo fell back down on all fours.
Jotaro wasted no time in slinging his right arm around your waist again to hold you, kicking his heels to make Jojo storm forward where Jotaro gave a signal for his horse to turn left with his foot, yanking his right leg out of the stirrup to instead harshly kick the outlaw out of his saddle.
Yelling in anger and pain as he fell, he was abruptly silenced as he got the wind knocked out of him by landing on the ground, his horse panicking and running away quick and fast.
With a groan he tilted his head up, seeing his gun lay on the ground not far from him and he quickly made a lunge for it, grabbing it with both hands yet freezing as he heard the heavy hoof-falls behind him step once, twice, before stopping. Looking over his shoulder, he saw Jotaro high atop his horse, a threatening image with the man’s only reassurance being the iron in his hands.
Jotaro, calm as could be, just simply drifted his eyes to the gun, acknowledging it before looking back into the eyes of the outlaw with a cold look.
“Try it. Let’s see who’s the fastest gun.”
The man’s breath hitched. There was no doubt or hesitation in Jotaro, his threatening glare pointed down as he challenged him
Everything seemed to quiet down and freeze for a second, the stare off between the two feeling like an eternity yet lasting no more than two seconds. But with nothing to lose, the outlaw suddenly hardened his stare and abruptly rolled onto his back, providing a dodging movement as he simultaneously brought his gun up, ready to fire haphazardly.
Yet Jotaro was two steps ahead of him, his gun already brought up, aimed, and the trigger pulled before the outlaw had even the chance to put his finger on it.
Jotaro’s bullet immediately shot through both of the man’s hands at the same time, since he was still holding his gun with both hands. His scream of pain echoed over the plains as he dropped his gun, unable to hold it any longer. Blood started bubbling from the wounds and he shakily brought his hands up to his face, stifled yells and pained noises leaving him as he snapped his head up with a venomous glare.
The glare dissipated into eyes widened in fear the moment Jotaro walked Jojo up next to the outlaw and stared directly down at him. There was a cold rage in his eyes that made the man’s breath hitch. “Never threaten her again.”
With that, Jotaro pointed his gun down and shot twice, one in each foot, not a single speck of remorse in him as the man screamed in pain before passing out from it.
- - - -
Jotaro was sitting on the ground with you in front of him.
“You’re so stupid.” You choked out, tears in your eyes as you slammed the bloodied cloth in your hand onto the dried grass.
“Y/N-“
“No!”
Jotaro shut up at that. He couldn’t recall if you had ever raised your voice at him, and now he just stared into your eyes, the tears you were holding back making them glassy while his eyebrows creased in worry, feeling as if he had to say at least something.
“...I can’t see you getting hurt.” He softly said, attempting to grab your hand, but that set you off.
“Oh, so that means I have to see you getting hurt?!” You called out and Jotaro stopped himself.
You were starting to get more and more upset and he needed to calm you down. Doing just that, Jotaro - not thinking clearly due to the pain and not knowing what else to do - just grabbed you by the back of your head with his right hand and pulled you towards himself, slamming his lips against yours, shutting you up.
Tears were now streaming down your face as he kissed you, a small sob leaving you and muffled by his mouth as you placed your left hand on his neck, feeling his warm skin under your palm as you just gave in.
Feeling you do that, Jotaro tentatively broke the kiss, pulling back only slightly before he placed his forehead to yours, you now trying to stifle your crying.
“Hey.” He softly spoke to try and get your attention and you opened your eyes, looking up to look into his. “I’m alright. The bullet didn’t even fully go into my chest, you know that, you pulled it out.”
“I-It was only halfway in.” You sniffled out with a nasally voice, Jotaro petting the back of your hair as he nodded briefly, the feeling a bit strange as he still held his forehead to yours.
“Exactly. So you don’t have to worry.”
“But your arm-!”
“-Will heal.” Jotaro finished for you, finally leaning back. “Right now let’s just get home.”
You sniffled once more and wiped the tears from your face with the fabric of your sleeve, your hands and wrists too stained with blood to use for that. “Once we’re back in town you’re going to a doctor.” You spoke out with a bit of a hoarse voice and Jotaro snorted softly in amusement, a slight smile on his face as he used his thumb to wipe away a last tear that you missed.
“I figured.”
You took a deep breath to reign in and steel your emotions, releasing it again as you focused back on his arm. His trenchcoat was partly off and you had rolled up his sleeve of the shirt he wore underneath it, still unnerved by the see-through hole that you knew sat underneath the improvised bandage, blood staining it from the profusely bleeding wound in his arm. “Don’t ever get into a fight on my behalf again.” You spoke as you picked up the cloth you had thrown into the grass earlier, starting to try and wipe away the blood you had accidentally got onto his neck.
‘It’s one of the only reasons I ever get into a fight.’ He thought to himself but instead shook his head slightly. “No promises.”
- - - -
With only slight effort Jotaro had gotten back into the saddle, you climbing into it yourself for the first time ever now that Jotaro wasn’t there to lift you before you could. He managed to get on behind you with one arm, grabbing hold of your hip afterwards given how you had already taken the reins.
Neither of you spoke much the entire ride back, yet every now and then, Jotaro would softly squeeze the hand on your hip. Comforting you even in silence.
Riding back into town, you immediately made way for the doctor’s, Jotaro rolling his eyes behind you at your stubbornness. If you had your eyes set on helping people, there really was no changing your mind.
“Y/N, you go to the sheriff’s and report what happened like we discussed.” Jotaro said to you as he carefully dismounted, making sure not to use his left side too much.
“What? No, I wanna go in with you.” You protested, looking a little hurt and Jotaro reached his good hand up to grab yours still on the reins.
“I’ll be fine. Those guys won’t stay there knocked out forever and you know it. You can come back after you’ve gone and reported it.” He said before slapping his horse’s neck twice. “C’mon, Jojo, go.”
With that, the horse started gently trotting and you looked back at Jotaro as you went further down the street. Concerned for the man as his figure got smaller and smaller before you saw it enter the doctor’s office.
Unfortunately, the sheriff’s was almost on the other side of town, so it might take a lot longer to come back than you would have liked.
- - - -
“Hello sheriff Miller.” You smiled a small awkward smile while the sheriff shot up from his seat, his eyebrows raised.
“What happened, darling? You’re covered in blood!” He walked forward, taking hold of your upper arm as he looked you over.
“Uhm, well you see, me and Jotaro- uh, Kujo, Jotaro Kujo, I mean - we were out riding when that gang from yesterday approached us. Two of them at least. And, well- let’s just say things got ugly...”
“Are you both alright?” The sheriff immediately asked and you swallowed.
“Sort of. Jotaro got shot.” You teared up a bit but shook your head when the sheriff placed his hand on your shoulder. “But he’s at the doctor now and I came here to say that the two men who attacked us are knocked out on the road to the forest to the north of here. Almost directly next to the forest.”
“They’re knocked out?” At that the sheriff raised his eyebrows and you nodded.
“One got kicked by a horse, the other got shot.” You said but quickly held your hand up when the sheriff furrowed his eyebrows. “U-Uh, but only in his hands and feet! Jotaro didn’t kill him! It was all in self defence! Really!” You frantically called out while sheriff Miller straightened up, looking down at you with a stern expression.
- - - -
“The guy and the gang he was a part of apparently have a bounty on their heads, so you won’t see any consequences for shooting a man.”
You were walking side by side with Jotaro, you on his left, and Jojo having to be on his right so he could lead his horse with his good hand.
Jotaro hummed in response to you as you walked the road back to your home, Jotaro insisting that he escort you there.
His arm was now in a sling, the wounds nicely and cleanly stitched and wrapped up and you felt a lot better seeing that - even though he lost quite some blood - he was walking as if totally fine.
You just wished things could have gone differently. This day took a nosedive from being one of the best in your life, over to one of the worst, with someone you care deeply about being shot. Oh god, you confessed to Jotaro. And he confessed to you. You totally forgot in all the chaos. What if-
“What are you thinking about?”
“Eh?” You snapped out of your thoughts, looking to your right to see Jotaro looking down at you curiously. “Oh, just... today.”
“Mhm.” He hummed, looking forward again, as if contemplating it.
“I just... I’m sorry.” You whispered and Jotaro turned to you with a raised eyebrow.
“Why are you apologising?”
“Because you got hurt and-“
“Is it your fault I got shot?”
“W-Well, no, not exactly I guess-“
Jotaro stopped walking and instead turned to you, taking hold of your chin and turning your head towards himself. “Exactly.” Your eyes were so innocent and you looked like you felt so guilty despite what he said, making Jotaro slowly blink and sigh as he closed his eyes briefly.
A quick glance into the street showed it was rather empty, and Jotaro snaked his good arm around your waist, pulling you into himself.
“Y/N-“
Just deciding ‘fuck it’, Jotaro wasted no more time with idle talk and slotted his lips over yours.
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
@stingray-sins
#hopelessly in love joot#jotaro x reader#jotaro kujo#cowboy au#jjba#cowboy jotaro#jojos bizarre adventure#jojo x reader#jjba x reader#hih au’s
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Welcome Home | Chapter Ten: Still Breathing
Finally—finally—, the day comes to rescue Sean. You honestly don’t know what to expect. Most of the others in camp aren’t much help, referring to Sean with a roll of their eyes and something along the lines of: “half a mind to let the bounty hunters keep him.”
They should be saying that about Micah, you think to yourself as you watch Charles and Arthur saddle their horses. Maybe then Dutch’ll kick him out.
Still, Sean is a bit of a wildcard to you. You won’t figure out what he’s really like until you meet him, and until then, you decide to keep an open mind. Worst case scenario? He’s Micah’s long-lost brother. Best case scenario? He’s… well. Maybe it’s best not to think about all the things he could be. Keep yourself on your toes.
You sit on a tree stump while the boys get ready. Taima is an absolute beauty of a horse, and you can tell by the way Charles dotes on her that she’s got a good life. Briefly, thoughts of having a horse of your own cross your mind. That appaloosa gelding is probably still for sale in Valentine. Maybe if you can get enough money, you can buy him.
Arthur and Charles take their sweet time packing more than enough ammo, which means you quickly get bored. Every scratchy detail on the tree stump bothers you, too. Hopping to your feet, you decide to get some chores done. Everyone’s been so preoccupied with the big upcoming rescue, they’ve neglected some of the finer details in camp.
The ax is in its usual spot, surrounded by whole logs that need to be chopped. You grab ahold of the handle. It feels lighter than it used to, and you realize you’re getting stronger.
Goodbye noodle arms, you think as you bring the ax down on to the first log. You don’t quite split it, but it’s getting closer than ever. And hello Jack Lumber.
A few chops in, you feel the muscles in the back of your neck tense. Someone’s behind you, and you’re not quite sure who. But soon enough, a low, sinister chuckle reaches your ears. Micah.
“Well,” he says. “Looks like the camp nuisance is finally doing some work.”
You slowly count to three before turning around. Micah stands by you, a little too close for your liking, and he’s got a smirk on his face that twists your gut something awful. You’ve started wearing a gun belt, and the hand that isn’t holding the ax inadvertently twitches toward your revolver.
“You know something, Y/N?” He takes a step toward you. “I think you’re starting to wear out your welcome.”
Fire ignites in your chest. No. No. Micah doesn’t get to do this, try and make you second-guess yourself and your place in the gang—especially not after you’ve just started feeling comfortable.
“Back off, you useless mineral,” you hiss.
Micah’s lips curl into a snarl as he takes another step toward you. This one feels infinitely more threatening, and you barely keep yourself from taking a step back. You’ll be damned if Micah wins this fight.
“Take another step,” you warn, “and I’ll jump rope with your intestines.”
Honestly, you don’t really expect him to feel threatened, but the odd choice in words is enough to throw him off. You can see him trying to process everything you said, which gives you enough time to throw the ax down and skedaddle.
Your heart thuds frantically in your chest as you hurry to Arthur and Charles. Micah won’t try anything if you’re with them; that much, you know for sure.
“We ready to go?” You ask as nonchalantly as you can. “If I chop one more piece of wood, I’ll have to start wearing flannel.”
Charles looks confused at “flannel,” but Arthur frowns as he glances over at the chopping block. His expression hardens when he sees Micah storming away.
“Micah giving you trouble?” He asks, a hint of something dangerous in his voice.
“Nothing I can’t handle.” You go to lean against the hitching post, miss, and almost topple over. Face burning, you settle for folding your arms over your chest.
Arthur and Charles exchange looks.
“If he tries anything,” Charles tells you, calm and steady, “let us know. We’ll take care of it.”
We’ll take care of it. How a statement so simple and so general can sound that dangerous, you’ll never know. You wordlessly nod, not knowing how to respond.
Charles leaves, then, to go saddle Taima. You look to Arthur, ready to follow him to Florence, who’s already tacked up and ready. But he doesn’t move.
“Micah been buggin’ you a lot?”
You shake your head. “Not really. I mean, he gave me a hard time when I was cleaning up Pearson’s wagon a while ago, but Hosea scared him off.”
Arthur turns to look at you. “And today?”
“Oh.” You think back to the confrontation. “Well, he called me the ‘camp nuisance’ and said I was starting to wear out my welcome.”
A glint of fury flashes through Arthur’s eyes as he throws a glare in Micah’s general direction. You shiver involuntarily. Thank goodness you’re not on a certain cowboy’s bad side.
“I’ve been called worse, to be honest,” you say with a shrug, and smile slightly when Arthur looks at you again. “I’m kinda used to it.”
He gives you a troubled frown instead of sharing your nonchalance. Confused, you feel your smile waver a little.
“What?” You ask.
“You…” Arthur begins, trails off, then continues: “You know it ain’t true, right?”
“What isn’t?”
“The part about being a nuisance. You ain’t wearing out your welcome, either.”
Something pulls at your heart, something strong, and you’re suddenly at a loss for words. You’ve had so many doors slammed in your face, so many people come and go, never staying, never even wanting to stay… And you couldn’t do anything but watch them leave.
“Oh,” is all you manage around a tight throat.
Arthur looks at you some more. His eyes are soft now, soft and full of what you think is understanding. He reaches out, maybe to put a hand on your shoulder, but apparently thinks better of it and instead motions for you to follow him. You trail a little behind as he walks toward Florence. You ain’t wearing out your welcome, either. Did… did Arthur really mean that? Does that mean the rest of the gang, minus Micah, feels the same way? You can’t help but shake your head in wonder. You don’t think you’ll ever understand these people.
Once you catch up, Arthur easily swings himself on top of Florence, then hauls you into the saddle behind him. You’re starting to get used to horseback. Florence may be absolutely massive, but you don’t feel so unsteady anymore. In fact, you might actually like riding.
“We’re meeting up with Javier just outside of Blackwater,” Charles says as he brings Taima over. “Trelawney thinks the bounty hunters will bring Sean upriver.”
Arthur nods and sets a steady trot out of camp. “Good. We can probably cut ‘em off when they reach the border. I think there’s a canyon that’ll give us some decent cover.”
“Any luck, we’ll take them by surprise.” Charles urges Taima into a canter, which Florence matches. “How many do you think there’ll be?”
“For Sean?” Arthur laughs, and you try not to look too enamored. “Any pair of fools could handle him. But there’ll be a lot of ‘em, no doubt.”
Charles hums in thought, but doesn’t say anything else. Much of the ride passes in comfortable silence. Although you want to focus on admiring the scenery and marvel at the lack of, well, everything, you find yourself thinking about the upcoming fight. You may not know a lot about the past, but you’ve seen enough Westerns to know bounty hunters always put up a hell of a fight. That, and they always keep coming right when you think you’ve killed them all.
Your revolver suddenly feels heavy in its holster. You bite your lip, a little unsure. Yes, you’ve used it once at Six Point Cabin, and yes, you’ve managed to hit a few bottles, but those were honestly lucky shots. And neither of them were shooting back.
Bounty hunters, though? Different story. For as much bravado as you showed Dutch during his little tirade, you have to admit that you’re a little nervous. It’ll be your first real gunfight. You’ll have Arthur and Charles looking out for you, but you can’t help the anxiety knotting deep in your gut.
If I die, I die, you think. No going back now.
///
Conversation lags for the remainder of the ride. Eventually, after crossing a small river, you’re in what Arthur tells you is West Elizabeth. It looks… well, it looks like a perfect snapshot of a history textbook. Rolling hills and open land, bison… it’s absolutely stunning.
Off in the distance, you see two people looking over the edge of a cliff. You recognize Javier, but you don’t recognize the other man, with his mustache and mischievous eyes. He smiles when he sees Arthur and Charles, then peers at you curiously.
“And who might this be?” He asks as Arthur dismounts, leaving you alone atop Florence.
Your brain goes into a blue screen of death, and before you know what you’re doing, you say: “My name is an enigma and holds all the secrets of the universe.”
“That would be Y/N,” Arthur says, exasperated. He helps you down and grabs his rifle from the saddle. “Y/N, this is Josiah Trelawney.”
Trelawney bows with a flourish. “At your service, my dear.”
You instantly decide you like him. Waving hello to Javier, you approach the edge of the cliff, crouching low like everyone else.
“Sean?” Arthur asks as he looks down the scope of his rifle.
“I think he’s in that boat over there.” Javier gestures to a small vessel upriver. “Think they’re docking to take him further inland.”
Arthur turns the scope, then gives a hum of confirmation. “That’s him alright. Giving those bounty hunters hell.”
Trelawney nods and rises before mounting his horse. Setting a slow walk, he motions for everyone to follow him. Arthur helps you on to Florence, and then you’re off once more.
“If we do this right,” Trelawney says, “we can cut them off. Remember: we’re just innocent folk out for a ride on the trail. Let’s not draw their attention just yet.”
The five of you ride toward a canyon. Ahead, you can see the boat docked at the shore, along with several well-armed, intimidating bounty hunters standing guard. They don’t look like they’re in much of a mood to negotiate. In fact, they look ready to shoot on sight.
Everyone takes cover around the bend. Trelawney, odd man that he is, seems more preoccupied with his coat than the problem at hand.
“Now ain’t the time for a fashion statement,” Arthur drawls.
“Au contraire, my dear fellow,” Trelawney says with a smile. “Bounty hunters are even more gullible than hillbillies. I have to look the part if I’m going to make the proper distraction.”
Then, before any of you can say a word otherwise, Trelawney strides confidently toward the bounty hunters. You can’t hear what he’s saying, but you just know he’s spinning a tale bigger than the Grizzlies. He waves his arms in a grandiose gesture. In another situation, you would have mistaken it for part of the act. But now, along with Arthur, Charles, and Javier, you recognize it for what it is: a signal.
Arthur fires a quick shot, striking one of the bounty hunters between the eyes. From there, it’s chaos. All you can hear is the sound of gunfire and shouting. You take cover behind a rock, firing your revolver without really trying to hit anything. You don’t know if any of your bullets find their marks. Honestly? Probably not.
“Let’s push up on ‘em,” Arthur commands.
You stick close by him as you make your way up the canyon. The bounty hunters have regrouped by now, which lets them put up more of a fight. A bullet whizzes by your ear—too close for you to ignore—and you yelp and duck further into cover.
Arthur quickly lays down some cover fire, then hauls you up and pulls you behind a larger rock. You don’t even have time to tell him thank you. The firefight picks up again, bullets flying, ricocheting, sometimes hitting their targets, sometimes hitting the canyon walls. It takes nearly all your self-control to keep a level head.
Out of the corner of your eye, you see Javier reloading his guns, but also just barely peeking out of cover. You look up the canyon trail. There, off in the distance, half-hidden by gun smoke and dust, you can just barely make out the silhouette of a bounty hunter—and he’s aiming right at Javier.
You steel yourself. You’re not some useless coward who needs to be protected. You’re a member of the Van Der Linde Gang—an outlaw. And one of your own is in danger.
Your anxiety flees, replaced by determination. Edging ever-so-slightly out of cover, you fire off a shot toward the bounty hunter, then duck back behind the boulder. A pained yell tells you that you hit your mark, and it’s followed by silence.
Javier looks at the fallen bounty hunter, then at you. He nods his head in thanks. Smiling, you tip your fingers in a mock-salute, then follow Arthur as he pushes further up the canyon.
It doesn’t take long for your little group to reach a clearing. Right away, you see someone dangling upside down from a tree. He’s also surrounded by vicious-looking men who you would honestly rather avoid.
Well,you think to yourself. That must be Sean.
The bounty hunters have been expecting you, and they fire several warning shots into the tree line. You duck behind the trunk of a massive pine. To your right, you see Arthur considering the situation, trying to figure out the best approach. On your left, Javier and Charles wait on a signal. You don’t know what happened to Trelawney, but you think he’s alright.
“If we can get around them,” Arthur eventually says, “we can come at them from all sides.”
Javier grins. “Like shooting fish in a barrel.”
Charles gives him a look. “Only the fish can shoot back.”
Arthur nods, then looks back toward the clearing. “Someone’s gotta get to Sean quick as they can. I got a feeling he’s gonna be bait.”
“I’ll do it,” you tell him. “There’s enough cover behind that tree he’s tied up in. I’ll be fine.”
For a long, long moment, Arthur looks uncertain. But when you give him a pleading look, silently begging him to let you prove yourself, he sighs and folds the cards.
“Alright,” he agrees. “Wait until you got a clear opening, then go for it.”
Everyone heads off in opposite directions, leaving you to prepare yourself for the sprint of the century. One by one, the boys shoot the bounty hunters, hitting each with impeccable aim. Then, almost before you’re ready, you spy the perfect opportunity.
Making a beeline for Sean, you dive behind the tree just as the bullets start flying again. You sit there for a few seconds, catching your breath. You can’t believe you’re still alive. All that time in open space, and not a single scratch on you.
“It’s over!” You hear one of the bounty hunters shout.
He sounds dangerously close to you. Peeking around the tree, you see him standing not a foot away, pointing his rifle at Sean.
Shit.
You duck back into hiding before you’re spotted. This is exactly what you didn’twant to happen, and it happened anyway. Wracking your brain for ideas, you look around for anything that could be of use.
Think think think think think think—
There’s a corpse not too far from you, and you spy a knife on its belt. Moving purely on instinct and adrenaline, you snatch it from its sheath, turn back to the bounty hunter, and shove it through his throat right in the middle of his next sentence. He stays on his feet for maybe a second longer, then collapses.
You slowly back away from him. Dimly, you realize that the fire fight is over, that everyone else is okay, but you can’t bring yourself to focus on that. All you can do is stare at the body on the ground… the man you just killed.
“You alright there, friend?” Sean asks, still upside down.
“Uh,” your voice sounds far away to your own ears, “yeah. I’m fine.”
After that, you have maybe five seconds before your stomach lurches. Doubling over, you heave violently for a while before coughing, spitting out the taste in your mouth, and wiping your lips with the back of your hand.
“Hiya Sean. I’m Y/N.”
//
Accompanying Music: Still Breathing | Green Day
Ko-Fi
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Tony takes three steps around the corner and stops short, standing up straight.
"Oh," he muttered after a moment, caught between wariness and delight. "Oh, Parker is not going to like that."
Swinging the halter and rope cheerfully, he continued towards the second field where Licurgo was, for lack of a better way to describe it, flirting.
Speak of the devil - the sense of being judged was almost tangible and Tony turned his head to see a pert little ass and an upturned nose marching parallel towards the fields with him, so intent on letting Tony know he didn't care for his presence that he hadn't yet noticed the way his precious little trust fund pony was all but wrapped around Tony's 'backwater hick horse.'
Tony leaned against the fence with a cheerful smirk and waited. Three... Two...
"What the fuck is your horse doing to Bal?!"
One.
"I believe its called bond-building grooming," Tony answered smugly, head cocking as he eyed the yard's star English pupil. Peter was staring with abject horror at where Balagur and Licurgo had their necks entwined, nibbling away at each other's fur in a friendly display.
Peter's cheeks had already obtained an affronted pink flush the shade of cotton candy. The stick up his ass seemed to grow in size, lending his spine a ramrod straight air.
"Look at them being B-F-F's," Tony cooed, shooting Peter a shit-eating grin.
"Shut up," Peter demanded crossly, arms folding and cheeks darkening. Over Peter's shoulder Tony could see Bucky heading straight for them, obviously anticipating that this would bubble over into another of their famous spats.
"It's not a big deal. I'll bet if we go back a few pages in their pedigrees they're even distant cousins."
"Oh please, you wish Licurgo had any of Bal's blood," Peter sniffed at him, shooting him a scowl. His cheeks were the color of roses now, dusky and hot. His brows had pinched down into what Tony liked to call his Regina George bitchface.
He pursed his lips.
"You know... Its not uncommon for bachelor stallions to form intimate bonds. Maybe they're lovers."
Bang went that pretty faced bomb.
Sheer outrage took over Peter's face and he squealed in fury, lunging for Tony. A set of strong arms wrapped around his waist and bodily hauled him off the floor like a scruffed kitten, the prissy little brat writhing and hissing in Bucky's arms.
"Whoa-hoah there, spitfire," Bucky laughed as he lifted Peter up, holding him against his chest and taking waddled steps backwards so Tony was out of range of those slender, deceptively powerful legs.
"I'm going to collect my homosexual stallion now. Toodle-pip," Tony announced cheerfully, slinging the rope over his shoulder and vaulting the fence as Peter yowled behind him.
(Find the first part here)
The worst part was— after Peter calmed down enough to finish training for the day, he could already notice a difference in Balagur’s attitude. His sweet, pure baby usually gets a second wind in the afternoon, eager to perform and even becoming more affectionate as the end of the day draws near.
But instead of excitable energy, Peter actually found himself correcting Bal twice when his posture slumped forward, deflating in a long sigh.
Once, he could understand. He pushes hard, and knows that even a stallion as fine as his Russian trotter will need a break from time to time.
Twice, and Peter was growing suspicious. He guided Bal through a series of exercises, and almost fainted to notice the horse practically dragging his feet around turns, the rhythm of his steps barely in cadence.
Balagur— Peter’s prized, award-winning and meticulously trained stallion— was throwing a temper tantrum.
Okay, Peter took a deep breath, forcing his aura to remain level-set and peaceful, he just needs some time.
Peter slowly approached where Bal was standing, making sure to remain in sight and keep his hands well within view. He wished he had a snack— it always helps to have a bribe on hand if needed.
“Shh,” Peter cooed, drawing a gloved hand up the side of Balagur’s neck, making sure to scratch behind his ears as well, “who’s my best boy, hm? Sweet, strong boy like you— what are you doing getting caught up on some second class set of hooves?”
He used both hands now to smooth out the brilliant white coat, making sure to stare deep into his horse’s eyes, “Listen to me— he’s nothing but trouble, understand? I don’t care how he sweet talks you, or how great he looks in that saddle, or how dark his hair is…”
Peter trailed off, absently thinking… not about Licurgo, but about the other stallion’s rider instead. He shook his head, focusing again, “Nevertheless! We have goals, yes? Two weeks to get down this routine, and then we’ll be draped in gold— how does that sound?”
He smiled down into Bal’s deep, dark eyes, admiring his boy’s beauty.
“I think it sounds good, sugar,” a voice called, startling Peter out of his daze. “Would love to see a pretty thing like you draped in gold, not that you don’t look stunning as is.”
Tony. The other man was settled against the fence, chewing on— is that really a piece of straw? Peter scoffed and gathered Bal’s reins, “Are you following me? Because I thought I made it perfectly clear—”
“Oh, no no no,” Tony grinned around the straw, tipping his head back to give Peter a salacious once over, “m’just here makin’ sure the goods are being taken care of.”
Peter is going to curse himself for asking, “And the goods are?”
Tony just smiled wider, looking between the two of them in some type of wild glee. Peter almost had to stop himself from smiling along. Almost.
“How’s ole’ Bal behavin’ today, sugar?” Tony asked instead, following them as they headed back to the stables, “I’ll tell ya— my boy was throwing a fit after you separated ‘em like that. Sure makes you think…”
Peter gripped the reins tighter, barely holding back his rage as he turned to give Tony an earful, but somehow the older man was already heading in the other direction.
“Pretentious cowboy,” Peter hissed, turning back to his horse, to his priorities.
He gave one last look over his shoulder, taking in the view of Tony’s firm, sculpted ass in his faded Levi’s.
No. Priorities.
#starker#riding au#carelessendgame#i blame jensen#second installment?? I guess#part two#ironspider#peter x tony#cowboy au#balagur the pining stallion#licurgo the poor fool#reins not reigns discourse#ask annie
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Changes
As the first prince of his country Suna had just about everything his heart could want. Riches, fine silks and linens, and more food than he could eat. One would expect with a life as luxurious as his he would be happy. Unfortunately his father could see the sadness deep in his son's eyes. Maybe he needed new hobby or more servants to boss around? Then again looking at things carefully the king noticed his son avoided the servants as much as he could. Just what could cheer up his son and bring back the joy in his eyes? Oh! Maybe that could work.
"You called for me father?"
"Yes Rintaro. I've noticed your sour mood these past few months and I think I know what could make it better." the king smiled down at his son. "I remember entering a funk as you young kids say and your grandfather threw a ball in my honor and I ended up meeting your mother."
Suna fought hard to hide the disgust creeping onto his face. Surely his father didn't really think he wanted to meet someone.
"So that's why three days from now we will have a ball and invite all eligible maidens to attend. Maybe I'll be able to see you smile again,"
"Um father with all due respect I don't really see how a ball will improve my funk as you called it. Maybe if I took a ride around the forest I'll feel better?" Suna hoped his father would get the message but knowing how stubborn he was he'll most likely be engaged three days from now. "I'll even bring my attendants to make sure I'm alright."
"Nonsense going for a ride isn't what you need. Trust me on this Rintaro. A ball is exactly what you need. You're dismissed. You have a ball to prepare for." The king said before turning back to the papers on his desk.
Suna sighed and left his father's office. Maybe if he ran away nobody would miss him. Or the entire kingdom would be put on lock down until he was found. He couldn't put his people through that so there was only one thing to do.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
The next day Suna found himself taking a walk in the garden. If all goes to plan he wouldn't have to propose and maybe he could get the freedom he was craving. Sure castle life was fun but when you have people constantly telling you how to live and doing every thing fro you it can get tiring. Before he turned eighteen he didn't have as many responsibilities as he does now. Life was simple he would take lessons during the day and after a certain time he was free to do what he wanted until dinner time.
Now he's stuck behind a desk everyday taking on the tasks of the kingdom he father didn't want to do. If he got to leave the castle anymore it was for business and once all was settled he'd come right back home and behind the four walls of his personal office again. His home had become a prison and his office his cell.
"You know if you continue to frown at the ground it's less likely to open up and take you away from here."
Suna looked up and found one of his attendants speaking with him. He had two personal attendants who miraculously happened to be twins. They met each other at the age of six and have been together ever since. The one speaking to him now was the blonde one Atsumu which meant his brother Osamu, with gray hair, was most likely harrassing the kitchen staff.
"That sounds like a dream come true right now. Don't you feel suffocated here? You've lived here your whole and trained to work for me. Was it something you always wanted or was this chosen for you?" Suna asked.
"Sounds like someone is scared of their responsibilities. Alright Rintaro tell me what's wrong." Atsumu offered Suna an encouraging smile until he noticed the deadpan look on Suna's face. "You don't have to look at me like that you know."
"No offense but, actually take as much offense as you can from this but last I checked advice giving wasn't something you were capable of. Where's Osamu?"
"Looking up one of the maid's skirts. Now what do you mean I'm not a good advice giver? I happen to give great advice to people in need." Atsumu huffed.
"Right right remind me again why ten percent of the palace guards quit after you left 'inspiring' words with them." Suna mused.
"Be glad you're a prince." Atsumu muttered dejectedly.
"Threatening the crowned prince? That's grounds for dungeon time. Let me know if you want gray or white sheets." Suna laughed as he continued in the direction he was headed before.
"I'll take green. Look the fact of the matter is you're clearly not happy about something and as one of your attendants it's my job to fix that. I can get your horse saddled if you want and tell your father you had an entire platter filled with cheese." Usually Suna would grimace at the mention of cheese but a ride through the kingdom sounded more like what he needed.
"Thanks but no thanks, after the last time my father would kill me if he found out I ran off again. If you did want to cheer me up you could figure out a way to get him to cancel this ball he's throwing in my honor."
"You know as well as I do just how stubborn your old man is. You'd have better luck raising the dead than changing his mind. Look on the bright side. There'll be cake." Atsumu smiled at Suna who in turn frowned at him.
"For saying that you get purple sheets."
"Wait! Let's talk this out!"
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
The following day Suna found himself in his room being fitted for a new suit. In the twenty minutes he's been standing there he's been pricked by pins three times.
"Last warning tailor. The next time you hurt the prince you'll be charged for treason." Today Osamu was keeping Suna company
''Forgive me your highness. You're more built than I'm use to dealing with. Rest assured this suit will be the most beautiful suit you'll ever wear." the tailor put another pin in the fabric he was working with and prayed he hadn't pricked Suna again. "If I may ask, what occasion is this ball in honor of? The last celebration we had was your eighteenth birthday and I believe your birthday isn't until next year so what's the joyous occasion?"
"You'll find out the day after the ball until then please focus on leaving skin on my body." Suna sighed.
"Of course your highness my apologies again."
"Tsumu talked to me yesterday. What's going on with you?"
"He talks too much. He simply saw me walking in the garden nothing else."
"Oh yeah? I heard that princess you met in Shektor is coming tomorrow. Should I make arrangements that she's your first dance of the evening?" Osamu smirked at Suna who scowled at him. "Oh dear your highness what an expression. Be careful Princess Tsumaki doesn't see it she might think one of the wind goblins is tickling your nose again. In fact I'll write a letter to her right now to bring her special medicine to cure you!"
"Osamu you bastard! Ow! Alright fine enough I'll answer both your questions just stop tormenting me! I should have both of you locked up for treason." Suna growled trying to keep the parts if his sanity he still had.
The tailor and Osamu smirked at each other as Suna began to speak again. "I just felt trapped behind these walls recently. Is everything I'm doing really important? I sit down and sigh papers all day either about farm rations or mining and I just don't see the need to do any of that. The people know what they need to survive and they know how to do what they need to survive so why should I waste time looking over it for them? They're not children who need to be supervised they'd be well off without me. The again if I don't do that then what is my purpose here? What am I suppose to do with my life? Am I just the face the people use when they need something? No wait that's my father's job so I'm just here. I make agreements and trade deals with other countries and attend diplomat meetings my father can't make it to. If I didn't do any of that then I'd be a regular boy in the kingdom maybe doing stable work. Sounds better than being the one everyone blames for everything if things go wrong. My father apparently doesn;t know me very well and thought I was lonely so he's throwing a ball for me to find a wife. What's not to love about that?"
Osamu sighed and pulled one of Suna's cheeks. "First don't talk about yourself like that. Like it or not this is how you were born and there's literally nothing you can do about that. It doesn't matter what kind of job you do even if all you did was tell someone to move a chair you still did something and it benefited somebody in the long run. You can't see yourself for the things you do but me and everyone else around you can. You just need to look at things from a different point of view."
Suna looked away from both of them and sighed while taking in Osamu's words. Maybe all he did need was to view things from a different perspective. Yeah maybe that could work. "Ow!"
"You didn't have to stick him again Mori." Osamu sweatdropped.
"Nope that time definitely was an accident. Please try not to move your highness." Mori smiled innocently.
Or maybe his tailor would take him out first. Whichever came first he guessed.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
The day of the ball finally arrived and carriage after carriage arrived at the castle holding nobles and royals from near and far. Suna was in his room again watching from the window as carriages entered the palace grounds. Maybe if he's lucky he could make a run for it during the party and jump the fence to get away from everybody to maybe save himself for a little while. Or maybe one of guards sees him and tries to follow him and ruins his plans.
"Just sit through the ball and I'm sure your father will let you leave for an hour tomorrow."
"Yeah right after his engagement announcement. Listen Rin if you don't want to do it then I don't see why you should."
"Don't listen to Tsumu. We'll help you if you need a breather every now and again but we can't cover fro you the entire night."
"Or eat these two slices of cheesecake right now and be excused for the rest of the night." Atsumu suggested wiggling his eyebrows.
It was a pretty solid plan but a night of pain wasn't worth missing the ball. His father might only postpone it and he'd be confined to his room until everything passes.
"Well gentlemen it's my last night a single man. If I'm lucky Tsumaki won't be my future bride. The small bout of freedom I had was nice but it's time for me to be a big boy and do what I have to. Once I'm king the first thing I'm doing is making sure Asami doesn't go through this." Suna sighed.
"I doubt she'd have a problem with it. Which girl doesn't want to be entertained by a handsome man? Bonus points cause he's rich." Atsumu shrugged.
Suna's eyebrow raised in confusion, "Are you calling the princess a money whore?"
Atsumu chuckled softly and smiled at Suna. "You and I both know that's not what I meant. You're really the only person who has a problem with palace life. Asami is actually looking forward to her happily ever after which is something you need to start doing. You can hate it but if it's something that has to be done then you have to suck it up and get it over with."
"You can say that because it's not your life. I need to teach Asami about how dirty boys are. Osamu you'll be the example for what you and Mori did yesterday. Who could've imagined my attendant and the tailor conspiring against me. The mutiny." Suna shook his head in mock disappointment.
"Be disappointed all you want. I did what I had to do. Now you have to get ready for tonight. If you need us you know where we'll be." Osamu left with Atsumu right behind him.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~**~*
Night fell quickly and two hours into the party Suna finally met all the young women his father had invited. Many were kind and some more beautiful than necessary but all quickly looked away when Princess Tsumaki approached him. The night continued on as his father hoped with Suna being forced to mingle with everyone present. Eventually his social meter began to run out and he retreated to a hidden balcony for air.
A sound close by caught his attention and Suna found a young woman who seemed to be in the same situation as him. If he remembered he remembered her name was (y/n) third princess of a neighboring country. Suna tried to sneak away before you could see him but alas luck wasn't on his side.
"Your highness good night."
Suna counted to three then slowly faced you with a friendly smile, "Good night my lady. I hope you're enjoying the party."
"It's lovely and so is your country. Please give your father my thanks for inviting my family."
"I can assure you he'll give his thanks for attending. If I'm not being too forward may I ask why you're out here instead of enjoying the food?" Hopefully pressuring you like this will give Suna the quiet time he was hoping for.
"Forgive my rudeness but the amount of people inside made the room a little stuffy. I came out here for a little air." you smiled at him.
"Fair enough. I hope the air is to your liking."
"With all due respect your highness it's been a long night and it's exhausting speaking like this so if you don't mind we can call each other old acquaintances and speak like old friends would. It would be an honor if you would call me (y/n)."
Suna blinked at your request and fought the grin trying to rise on his face. "If that's so then feel free to call me Rintaro. Blame my father for taking things the wrong way and forcing us all to go through this."
"We can't really fight what our parents want us to do. Comes with the title really. You seemed upset earlier should I assume that you don't really want to get married?"
Suna sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "I don't mind getting married I just don't think I should get married because my father thought I was in a funk as he called it. Sounds cliche but I actually believe in meeting someone and falling in love."
You blinked at the prince and giggled. "You're very cute Rintaro. I like to believe everyone wants to fall in love that way. Nobody wants to have their partner chosen for them. What good is being married if you're gonna be miserable everyday."
"If it means I don't have to sit through marriage consultations and weird balls like this one then I may just prefer the other way."
"Careful what you say. I think we both know your father is capable of that. I saw princess Tsumaki looking for her Rinnepoo earlier. Maybe I should let his majesty know you've chosen someone." You looked up to find Suna pouting at you. "Careful your highness they may send you back to etiquette classes for making such a face."
"Good evening Prince Rintaro. It's a pleasure to make your aquaintance tonight. I do hope that-"
"Ok! That's enough! Don't you dare repeat that."
Suna smirked and hid his mouth behind his hand. "Pardon me princess. I just found your greeting to me this evening amusing. I mean no harm it's just you were so cute. How many times did you practiced that?"
"Whatever. Let's see what you would do if the roles were reversed."
"Sorry princess but this isn't about me." Suna giggled.
"So you can smile and laugh. I almost thought you were emotionally constipated. Is that the funk your father thought you were in?"
Suna sighed being reminded of the situation he was in. "It's more than that but nobody would understand."
You smiled at him encouragingly. "The whole you're royalty so you have absolutely no reason to not be happy thing?"
"Exactly that. It's gonna sound stupid but I guess I miss the freedom I had before I turned eighteen. Well more I don't see the need for me to do the things I'm doing."
"Ah you feel monarchy should be abolished. Look at it this way crackers taste good on their own but with cheese the taste is elevated. Cheese and crackers is superior to just plain old crackers by themselves or just cheese by itself. Yes your kingdom could probably prosper on it's own but there are situations the people shouldn't handle on their own. Budget distribution, land distribution, diplomatic matters and many other things. We exist to keep harmony in the kingdom. Imagine leaving children to raise themselves. Many would unfortunately die before reaching a certain age. Think of your kingdom as your very own children. They're self sufficient yes but without you to guide them in the things they don't understand they'll be hurt. You can still do the things you love but your children come first. If you don't take care of them then someone may just take them away. "
Suna sighed. "I can understand that but I just don't understand why it has to be me."
"I don't understand why it can't be you. Anyone could've been chosen for the job but you were chosen. I don't know you well enough to speak on certain things but I have heard rumors that you basically run half of your kingdom on your own. The fact that nothing has fallen apart shows that you're more than competent to do your job. You need to have more confidence in yourself. I've only known you for a short time but I can already tell you're a wonderful person. Don't sell yourself short." You smiled at Suna who looked at you unsure.
Suna shrugged, "If you say so (y/n). Are you hungry?"
"I'm alright for now. But I do think we need to get back before someone misses us."
"What's the rush? You know the reason for this party."
"Is that you asking for my company your highness?"
"I didn't hear a no princess." Suna smirked when you giggled.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
A few months later Suna found himself sitting in his office again. He was hard at work but this time with a slight smile on his face. A knock on the door took him away from the work he was doing and Atsumu stepped into his office.
Atsumu placed a sandwich and a cup of tea on the table in front of Suna "You seem to be in a better mood these days. What's your secret?"
"Sorry but secrets are secret for a reason."
"Keep your secrets then. Simply means I can't tell you the one I just heard." Atsumu smirked.
"I heard the dungeons don't have heat." Suna shrugged.
"Really? Just make sure my sheets are red."
Suna laughed and shook his head, "You little turd nugget. What's going on?"
"Alright fine but only because you asked so rudely. I heard your favorite princess is coming by later today. Maybe if you finish all your work you can be at the doors to greet her."
"Lucky for me this was the last page I had to look over. Prepare two horses and I'll make sure your sheets are maroon."
"And you call me the turd nugget." Atsumu rolled his eyes. "His majesty said you can do whatever you want for the rest of the day once you stop keeping him in suspense."
"Sounds good. Thanks for lunch."
Things were definitely starting to look up and with one simple question later tonight Suna's life was about to change again. This time for the better.
#haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader#suna rintaro#Suna Rintarou#Suna#suna x reader#suna rintaro x reader#suna rintarou x reader#haikyuu fluff#haikyu x reader
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More Geraskier dagger content, darling? You know I'm a big ol' ho for some spicy steel to the neck. Love youuuuuuu.
I’m taking a guess and saying hi @bounce-a-coin-off-your-witcher!
This is 874 words. There’s... some plot? If you look hard enough. There’s some Elder speech in this. I’ll put translations at the bottom.
Warnings: Smutty times! knife play, weapons kink, language kink too (that’s a new one!), role play (sort of, they aren’t very good at it), hand jobs (in public but there’s no one around), Praise kink, and very light dom/sub vibes. 18+
Geralt pulled Roach to a slow walk as they ambled along the dark forest path. He watched the trees carefully, looking for any sign of an ambush. They were in bandit territory and he wasn’t fond of killing humans, but sometimes it was kill or be killed. Roach huffed, her ears twitching. He reached forward to stroke her mane before forming Axii with his fingers.
“Calm, Roach,” he muttered. The last thing he needed now was to be thrown from his horse.
The wind was whistling through the trees, a cold caress on his cheek. The moon shone in the sky, bright, ethereal, almost full. He smiled faintly to himself. At least the full moon was still a few days away. The woods were almost impassable during a full moon. He focussed his senses, searching for any danger. A waft of lavender washed over him, and he hummed.
Jaskier.
He scoffed and shook his head. If Jaskier was nearby and hadn’t announced himself by now then he was purposely playing games. Geralt would play along… for now. He hadn’t seen his bard in a few months, and he missed him.
He didn’t flinch as a throwing knife narrowly avoided his cheek, a few strands of hair falling into his lap. His eyes flashed in the direction the knife had been thrown, but Jaskier was hidden well. He pulled Roach to a stop, jumping from the saddle and gripping her reins in one hand. He heard a crack of branches. Jaskier was on the move.
He rolled his eyes. “Who’s there?”
Jaskier responded in Elder, the elven tongue falling gracefully from his lips as if he were a born elf. Geralt felt a prickle of heat at the back of his neck, remembering the whispers of praise in Elder after a night of tender touches and heated kisses. The bard was definitely playing games. He released Roach, and she trotted off down the path to safety.
“Reveal yourself, elf,” Geralt spoke clearly, tracking the small sounds of Jaskier’s movements through the trees. He ducked easily when a second knife flew towards his head, taking note of where it landed so they could collect them once the charade was done.
He spun around and threw a light Aard in the direction of Jaskier. He heard a shout of laughter and cursed; he’d missed. He growled and spun in a slow circle, distracted by the scent of lavender, of Jaskier.
He hissed as Jaskier’s hands suddenly gripped him, a cold blade pressed against his throat. Jaskier’s lips kissed just below his ear and his eyes fluttered shut, leaning into the embrace of his lover.
“Geralt of Rivia,” Jaskier whisper in his ear, low and dangerous. Geralt groaned as he felt Jaskier’s erection press against his arse. “Fancy seeing you here, witcher.”
Geralt swallowed, the blade almost cutting into his throat. “I mean you no trouble,” he hissed through gritted teeth, struggling to stay in character as Jaskier nipped and licked at his neck. He felt heady already, too hot in the layers of armour, as his arousal only grew.
“Y stráede neén, vatt’ghern,” Jaskier breathed. “Pretty little thing like you, you wouldn’t hurt a fly.”
Geralt, even through the ever thickening fog in his mind, laughed bitterly. “I’m a monster slayer.”
Jaskier bit his neck and he moaned, grinding back against Jaskier’s hips. The bard thrust forward in response, keeping the blade at Geralt’s throat steady. “You wouldn’t kill me, Gwynbleidd, would you?”
“No,” Geralt gasped. “never, never.”
“Elaine baeg bleidd,” Jaskier cooed, one hand pulling at Geralt’s hair. “I’m going to drop my weapon now, darling.”
Geralt groaned as the blade fell from his neck, Jaskier spun him round and pushed his back against a tree, blue eyes dark and hungry. “Jask,” Geralt breathed, leaning his head against the bard’s shoulders.
Jaskier winked, his fingers running along the waistband of Geralt’s trousers. “Can I kiss you, darling?”
Geralt hummed, nodding slowly. “Yes.”
Jaskier pulled Geralt’s head back, and captured his lips in a rough kiss, forcing his tongue into Geralt’s mouth. Geralt moaned into the kiss as Jaskier’s hips rolled forward. “Jaskier…”
“Can I touch you, pretty little wolf?” Jaskier asked, voice low, gentle… caring.
He nodded, words beyond reach now.
Jaskier made light work of the ties on his trousers and Geralt gasped as his skill hands wrapped around his cock. “So hard for me already, darling.” Jaskier murmured, brushing his lips along Geralt’s jaw. “How quickly can I make you come, Gwynbleidd?”
Geralt’s cock jumped in Jaskier’s hand at the name. Jaskier bit his neck again, a sharp pain cutting through his arousal and he thrust into Jaskier’s hand. Jaskier hummed, alternating between abusing Geralt’s neck and murmuring praise in his ear, in both Elder and Common, stroking Geralt’s cock until he spilt over Jaskier’s hand, the bard’s name on his lips.
Jaskier giggled and covered Geralt’s moans with a kiss. Geralt panted into his mouth, struggling to stand through the waves of pleasure. He whined as Jaskier released his cock, wiping his spend onto the grass next to them. “I think… that’s a new record.”
Geralt groaned, slumping against the tree. “Really, bard?”
Jaskier winked. “You love me.”
“For my sins, I do.”
________
Translations (according to the internet):
Y stráede neén, vatt’ghern, - Of course not, witcher.
Gwynbleidd - White Wolf (Elven name for Geralt?).
Elaine baeg bleidd, - Pretty little wolf.
______
Tag list (18+): @geraltrogerericduhautebellegarde @slythnerd @hailhailsatan @thecomfortofoldstorries @gelos @moonysourenza @00qtee @honeysuckletook @elliestormfound @sleepy-thief @artistsfuneral @kittynannygaming @stinastar @fontegagrilledcheese @baka-yu @anythinggoesfandoms @veritasrose @trickstermoose67 @nonegenderleftpain @kueble @love-more-today-than-yesterday @kozkaboi @wherethewordsare
#the witcher#geraskier#geralt of rivia#jaskier pankratz#geralt x jaskier#nsft#wolfie's witcher writing#Anonymous
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