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zorostitties · 3 months ago

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Aurora, 3 (m)

⤕ Your existence had been an endless night, where shadows whispered long forgotten secrets. Trapped in a golden cage, your fragile mind and shattered memories were chains that kept you from dreaming of freedom. Then, he appeared with the first light of dawn, like a gentle sun warming your cold skin. In his gaze, the promise of a new beginning; in his presence, the sunrise your soul had longed for.

In which Alucard saves you from Erzsebet.

pairing: alucard (castlevania) x (f) reader

genre: angst, romance, slow burn, eventual smut

warnings: violence/blood, explicit language, mental health issues, grief, physical abuse.

rating: 18+

word count: 6k

A/N: Happy one week anniversary to this fic!!! Three chapters in seven days??? I don't write this much or this fast since I was like 15. Oh God. Hyperfixation go BOOM Thank you everybody that left comments last chapter!! Reading them makes my day!! Without further ado, let's hear Alucards thoughts. Enjoy! <3

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The fast passage of time never failed to surprise Alucard.

The way the pages of his favorite books would get yellowed and frail without him noticing. How stone pavement would get slippery, worn out, after years of feet walking on it. How quickly a small village with only a few families could turn into a city bubbling with thousands of lives. How a small seedling would turn into a tall apple tree laden with fruit before he could take notice of it. The way fashion changed rapidly; how his clothes would get outdated and he’d be forced to acquire new ones in order to fit better into society.

How fast humans aged.

He didn’t like to ponder too much into it. Not anymore. It always made old scars ache again. However, as he looked at Juste Belmont, he couldn’t stop himself.

A part of his brain still expected to see a skinny and clumsy boy when Richter mentioned Juste. After all, that was his last memory of the Belmont, although he knew it was impossible. And yet… when Alucard laid eyes on the man, he couldn’t help but be shocked. He knew he’d see an adult, yes… not an elderly man with white hair, beard and deep wrinkles, a man that looked older than him (even though he was in much better form than the average human his age).

How many years had it been since Alucard last saw Juste...? It was around the time his grandfather passed, if he wasn’t mistaken. Was it around 50 years ago, perhaps?

Hell. Only 50 years had passed, and Juste already looked like a raisin.

Half of him knew that was part of the beauty of human existence: its fleetingness. Every human had a clear and direct story: beginning, middle, end. Their will to build, transform, adapt, improve and sometimes destroy, despite the little time they had on Earth. That was why human society changed so much in all those years. They had limited time: they were in a hurry to do everything they could with what they got – and that’s why Alucard admired mankind so much. Despite their immortality, vampires didn’t seem as willing to make significant changes, always choosing complacency or destruction instead.

The other half of him – the half where his deepest scars where hidden – hated this fact about humans. Even felt bitter of them, although he wouldn’t admit it out loud. Humans came and went before he could notice. They marked his life and left him alone before he could even prepare himself.

Alucard inherited the human heart that an immortal shouldn’t have. That was one of the small curses he carried for being who he was.

“Why don’t I come to Paris with you?” Juste argued with Richter, which honestly humored Alucard a bit. The younger man was acting as the adult, coming with up with rational reasons, while the elder was eager to join the fight with them. There it was… humans’ will to do something despite everything.

The white-haired vampire watched the scene in silence, sitting on a tree trunk with Annette by his side. The morning fog over the lake and around the clearing made him keep his guard up despite his relaxed demeanor, as it could hide spies easily; in fact, he was almost sure there was someone out there, but he couldn’t tell exactly where. The smell of burnt wood, ashes and vampire corpses was disorienting.

“Are all Belmonts like this?” Annette wondered out loud with a quirked eyebrow.

“Irritating? Oh, yes.” Alucard knew that it was a genetic trait inherited by every Belmont (other than their clear blue eyes). “To be honest, it’s been years since I’ve had much to do with them.” He admitted. Even so, it seemed that things hadn’t changed much in this aspect. “But if I can’t stop Erzsebet, I’ll need a Belmont to finish the job. Or a revolutionary witch, of course.” Annette opened a small, bashful smile at his last sentence.

Richter started to list reasons to why Juste should stay in Machecoul – he owed it to Maria’s mother, he didn’t care if Juste wasn’t great with teenage girls, all the usual Belmont family drama. Well, something else that time hadn’t changed. Alucard almost had a deja vu, as it wasn’t the first time he witnessed a scene like that.

So he decided to lay his attention elsewhere.

Ruby was standing at a good distance from the rest of the group; she had a focused – slightly annoyed, even – expression on her face as she analyzed the pairs of boots in front of her. She had taken them herself from the corpses before the three men collected the deceased vampires to throw them at the fire burning in the Belmont’s now ruined cottage.

She took a boot and placed it next to her barefoot feet, measuring it. Apparently, it was too big. She sighed and did the same with the next pair.

Alucard had been paying much attention to her. He’s one to always focus on the task at hand – said task meant to stop the impending doom hovering over mankind on Europe – however, from the moment he entered her room through her window, things took a different turn. Got more complicated.

The white-haired vampire knew she wasn’t lying. After you live that long, you learn how to pick up the mannerisms of deceit, especially in humans. They blush, blink, avoid your gaze, stutter, their voice gets higher. It takes a lot of practice to get rid of these involuntary quirks. From the moment they first met, Ruby seemed absolutely honest in her fright; in fact, it was as if she couldn’t lie even if she wanted to. As if… she was trained to never lie.

However, it wasn’t enough to make Alucard less suspicious of her. Too much was at stake to let himself be carried away by her story. He knew he was too old to get fooled, but he also knew to never say never – thus why he kept his attention on her, even if he didn’t show it.

He was trying to understand her. Get a glimpse of what was really going on.

Ruby kept silent during most of the way to Juste’s cottage – and that was a lot, given they walked the entire night. She barely made questions. She didn’t ask to rest, to get some water, didn’t complain about her tight shoe (Alucard could feel the faint smell of blood coming from the scratch on her heel). She kept her head low most of the time. Well… she did promise that they wouldn’t even notice she was there, but Alucard didn’t think she was so serious about it.

It made him feel bad for her, to be honest. He could tell it was another thing she was trained to do.

Three moments of their long walk towards Juste’s location caught his attention the most.

The first was during one of their few stops, when Ruby stood apart of the group and stared at the sky for quite some time, in complete silence. She had a focused expression he hadn’t seen her show yet; one that didn’t somehow look pained. The second was when she caught glimpse of a squirrel – the tiny animal ran up a tree so fast that Richter and Annette didn’t notice it – and gasped, her eyes widened, as if she’d never seen a squirrel before. When the two asked what happened, Ruby brushed it off in embarrassment.

The third moment was while Annette explained what they were going to retrieve in Paris – Sekhmet’s mummy which contained half of her soul. And… Ruby didn’t react.

Alucard remembered that both Richter and Annette got confused at what a mummy is. Ruby didn’t. As if she already knew what it was.

That put a question mark in his head.

Alucard wanted to trust her. She seemed genuine. He got really worried about her at the forest, when she learned about Drolta’s death; there was no way she could lie about that. But… how could he trust someone whose own mind was untrustworthy?

Ruby measured her feet with another worn out leather boot, knee-high and with a very short heel. This time, it seemed to match. She put on the pair. Tip-toed, turned her ankles around, took some steps. Finally, she opened a tiny satisfied smile and sighed in relief. “This will do,” she muttered to herself.

Alucard narrowed his eyes slightly.

There was a time – a long time ago –, when he was young, Alucard would trust her in a heartbeat. He wouldn’t even question her. He’d let himself be carried by his inexperience, his naivety… and his inherent taste for beautiful, delicate things. Because yes, Ruby was beautiful like a flower. She reminded him of a weeping begonia – graceful, colorful, yet with a certain melancholy to it. He’d offer help, cook for her, give her a shelter. He’d even offer himself to carry her on his back the entire way due to her hurt heel.

But Alucard wasn’t naive anymore, and there was too much at stake to have faith in her like that.

Of course, one could argue that if that’s the case, then he shouldn’t trust Richter and Annette as well, given he barely knew both. But Richter was a Belmont – and like all Belmonts, he carried his heart on his sleeve; Richter was incapable of deceit. Annette was mature, much more than someone her age should be, due to her past; Alucard could recognize someone with a strong sense of justice and pride like her. There was nothing complicated about them. Ruby was complicated. Ruby meant mystery in a situation that demanded clarity.

Ruby was their upper hand against Erzsebet, but she was also a problem.

“Annette,” the white-haired vampire called quietly. The girl looked at him immediately, understanding his quiet and serious tone. “I’d like to ask you a favor.” She nodded. “Try to… stay close to Ruby. She might feel more comfortable to talk with another woman.”

Annette narrowed her eyes and pursed her lips. It might’ve sounded that he was just caring for Ruby, but the suspicion in his expression told her otherwise.

“Do you think she’s lying?” she asked in the same quiet voice.

“No,” Alucard said. “But she doesn’t remember anything from her past, so it doesn’t mean much. Perhaps… the real Ruby hidden in her memories might not be who she seems to be.”

Annette appeared hesitant – Alucard knew she had sympathy for Ruby – but nodded anyway.

The white-haired vampire sighed, tired of hearing the Belmonts talk, and got up.

“Richter. We need to go.” He was about to call Ruby as well, but she was already running towards them.

“Did you find one that fits?” Annette asked as she also got up. Ruby nodded.

“Yes. It doesn’t even smell bad, either.” She appeared so content with something so simple. Annette sent her a small smile before frowning and crossing her arms.

“What happens if we get to Paris and the mummy doesn’t hold any power, it’s just some old corpse that was stolen hundreds of years ago?” Annette wondered – but Alucard didn’t really pay attention to it.

Richter hugged Juste. Ruby watched it in silence – and the faint happiness she held seconds ago for finding good boots immediately faded away, being replaced by… longing. It was like watching a flower wither in front of his eyes.

A weeping begonia, indeed.

It was another one of those moments when Alucard wished he didn’t have his human heart. One of the few things that the fast passage of time hadn’t been able to change.

“Then at least it’s no use to Erzsebet, either,” he answered Annette’s question and turned around, not waiting for anyone to follow him.

When the great flowing river appeared, you couldn’t help but feel a bit of excitement.

Rivers and lakes kept frozen most of the time in Erzsebet’s country. It amounted to your pile of new experiences. In 24 hours, you’d already seen and done much more than during your time in imprisonment.

You tried not to gasp. This river was much larger than the one you’d seen a few hours ago, during one of the stops you’d made to drink water. The sound of the serene current was hypnotizing; it reflected sunlight beautifully, its surface shimmering with the glow of a million diamonds. A bit of fog still hovered over the nearby trees of the river bank.

“The river will take us much of the way from here,” Alucard explained. Since leaving Juste’s clearing, he had taken the lead and resumed himself to not talking much. Richter and Annette were carrying all of the conversations, to be honest, as you decided to also keep quiet.

Since you left the ruins at Machecoul, you noticed that Alucard was a bit… aloof. Or at least, he decided to act this way due the current situation – and you could understand that. The half-vampire wasn’t being rude, and never once did he appear annoyed anytime Richter and Annette made questions; in fact, he was more than eager to debate their plans or to explain how his hunt for Sekhmet’s mummy went over the years. And at the same time… his expression stayed nonchalant all throughout the way.

Well. You couldn’t expect anything less from a man that stayed extremely calm as he invaded Erzsebet’s chateau.

Nevertheless, it made you feel a bit… weird. You didn’t want to say lonely, but that’s more or less how you felt. Alucard was the one to talk to you at the forest after all, and Richter and Annette… they seemed too enthralled in each other, so you didn’t want to interrupt. You didn’t have the courage to initiate a conversation with Alucard either, scared to bother him. So to you, the entire travel had been a long, weird silence.

There was also the fact that you were in panic of attracting any attention to yourself. They must be extremely confident to walk around at night, you thought; how many vampires could be lurking under the moonlight, between the shadows? As much as the sights amazed you – heavens, you even saw a squirrel! –, you couldn’t help but also shiver whenever one of them stepped on twig.

“We won’t be stopping, so if you need provisions, get them now,” Alucard continued. “Keep out of sight. For sure, we’re being followed.” There it was. Just as you were thinking of vampires lurking, he confirmed your fears. And yet, instead of taking a fight stance or getting tense, he just furrowed his eyebrows and completed in an annoyed tone: “I’m always being bloody followed.”

Richter looked back. Then, you saw as his chest bubbled with excitement.

��Are you going to turn the tables on them, surprise them and then take them out with your flying-sword-thing?!” he asked on the same beat, not taking a second to breathe, his blue eyes shining with anticipation.

Alucard stared at him an embarrassingly second longer than normal.

“...I’m going to find a boat.”

And walked away.

Annette covered her mouth to muffle her laughter. Richter’s face got redder than a tomato. You looked down, unable to hide your chuckle as well. He seemed… very impressed by Alucard, you noticed. Once again, excited like a child. It was cute – and you got surprised at yourself, because you didn’t remember thinking anything was cute before.

Richter recovered from the embarrassment in a second. “I’ll hunt, you gather,” he said, pointing with his thumb. “I mean… you could hunt, too.”

Annette giggled once again. “I’ll find some mushrooms.”

They started to walk into the woods while talking about mushroom types.

For a second, you stood in place like a scared cat. Should you follow Alucard? Would that annoy him? Should you follow the other two? Would you annoy them? Didn’t they said you’d have to keep under watch at all times? But what if you became a burden? What if–

“Why aren’t you coming, Ruby?”

You jumped.

Annette and Richter stopped walking to look back at you. The girl had a little smile on her lips. “Do you like mushrooms?”

Oh. Right.

You ran to reach them. “I do,” you said awkwardly. The only good thing about living under Erzsebet’s enclosure was that you were, in fact, well-fed. It wasn’t always like that… but after you became obedient, you were served good food – and creamy mushroom soup was one of the dishes you liked.

“Let’s just hope that Alucard likes it, too,” Richter pondered, holding his chin. “If he even eats at all.”

“Of course he eats. Why wouldn’t he?” Annette raised one eyebrow.

Richter shrugged. “Well, I’m not an expert in half-vampire anatomy to understand his physiological needs.”

You clasped your hands behind your back, taking courage to speak up. “Is he… always like that?” You knew Alucard must’ve been far by that point, yet you still lowered your voice, as if afraid that he might hear it.

You didn’t even need to explain what “like that” meant. Annette pursed her lips. “I can’t tell. To be honest, we know him as long as you do.” That took you by surprise; you mean that Alucard trusted Richter and Annette without even knowing them?! The girl in yellow smirked and sent a teasing look towards Richter. “I mean, I didn’t know him; Richter right here knows everything about Alucard.”

“Hey– it’s not like that,” the boy blushed yet again and scratched the back of his neck. It seemed to be a quirk of his whenever he felt embarrassed. “It’s just that my family knows him for a long time, okay? I’ve… always heard stories about Alucard.”

“And is he what you were expecting?” Annette asked. Richter hummed, taking a second to answer.

“...Not exactly.” He crossed his arms. “I always imagined he’d look older. I mean, if you heard the stories they told me when I was a kid, you’d expect to meet a giant, like five meters tall.” Annette chuckled.

“Why does your family know him?” you asked Richter. He sighed.

“The Belmonts… we’re a long lineage of vampire hunters. Hundreds of years ago, my ancestors helped him defeat Dracula.”

Hundreds of years ago? So Alucard was that old? You shouldn’t be surprised as you knew that vampires didn’t age, keeping the same appearance they had when they were turned. Yet, since Alucard was only half vampire, you thought that he actually was the age he looked to be...

Annette narrowed her eyes. “I don’t think she knows who Dracula is. I didn’t know.”

“Riiight.” Richter nodded awkwardly. “Well, Dracula was considered by many the Vampire King for a long time. He was extremely powerful. And he almost wiped out life on Earth. Lovely guy,” Richter shrugged. “There’s also the detail that he was Alucard’s father.”

You widened you eyes. That meant that… Alucard had to kill his own father?!

“Does that make him the Vampire Prince?” Annette wondered, not appearing to care about what the blue eyed boy just stated at all.

“That’s one of his titles in the legends, though I don’t think he likes it,” Richter crossed his arms. “Well, he does look like a prince.”

The girl opened the most playful, devious grin you’ve ever seen – in fact, that was the most emotion you’ve seen her show up until now. Annette was somewhat serious and her reactions were very contained, so you were a bit surprised by that. It seemed that only Richter could evoke these reactions from her…

“Oh, God. Are you going to ask his hand in marriage? When you do, tell us previously, so we can leave the room,” she playfully elbowed his ribs.

“Wait– That’s not– What I meant is–“ Richter stumbled over his words, his cheeks redder than ever – and this time you couldn’t help but giggle with Annette, covering your mouth. It also seemed that only Annette could get Richter flustered like that…

“Alright, lover boy. This seems like a good place,” she stopped walking, pointing to her right side. “Let’s see if we can find some good ones. Take care to not get hurt by your dangerous rabbits,” she sent him one last playful look.

Still blushing, Richter smiled, shook his head and kept walking ahead.

Her eyes lingered on his figure. For a second, you wondered if she forgot you were even there.

Finally, she looked at you. “Shall we?”

You nodded, following her into the woods.

And… back to silence.

Awkward silence.

You didn’t really know how to start conversations. You didn’t even know if you should. That might annoy her, you thought. I’m not her friend like Richter. It’s better if I just keep silent to not attract unwanted attention.

With the corner of your eye, you observed Annette.

Richter commented that Alucard looked like a prince - and talking about royalty… you also thought that Annette looked like a princess. Her features were delicate; she was soft spoken, polite and intelligent. Her round brown eyes reminded you of kindness and warmth, although you could see they were clouded with some sadness and distress. The way she matched her yellow vest with the golden hair rings and earrings reminded you of a sunflower. Earrings… looking at them made you feel the ghost of a familiar pain. Whenever they dressed you up for Erzsebet’s night balls, they’d have to pierce your ears to put earrings on them. Every single time. And the skin would constantly try to heal around the earring, making them itch uncontrollably until you’d finally rip them off–

“Oh! Looks like we found some,” Annette cut your line of thoughts before they could spiral. “Well, that was fast…”

She pointed towards the ground nearby. There was a tree with a couple of mushrooms growing near the roots. Annette took a small wooden bowl from the shoulder bag she carried across her chest and knelt down in front of the tree.

You narrowed your eyes as you got closer to the tree…

“These aren’t edible.” You blurted out.

Annette looked back at you.

You stepped closer, shyly pointing towards the mushrooms.

“They’re… too white. The gills. Poisonous,” each word that came out of your mouth made you frown more.

The girl in yellow looked down at the mushrooms, softly pushing them with her fingertips to see under the cap better. Then, she looked back at you.

“You’re right,” she got up, watching you in silence.

You looked back at her in silence, too.

Silence.

“I didn’t know I knew that,” you admitted in a whisper.

Annette cracked a small smile. “That’s a good sign, isn’t it?”

“Why?”

“You remembered something.”

You remembered…?

You were sure of one thing – never once in your life have you ever went mushroom picking under Erzsebet’s imprisonment. Your memory could be a mess, but of that you were sure. So why would you know how to spot a poisonous mushroom?

Was that… was that really a memory?

“You look very shocked,” Annette pointed out. You realized she was already some steps ahead of you looking for another tree. You ran to reach her.

“I… well, I… do you think this could be a memory?” You didn’t like how high pitched your voice sounded.

“Of course it’s a memory. What is knowledge if not a collection of memories?” she said softly.

You felt excitement bubbling within your chest, making your heartbeat increase and you grab the fabric of the skirt.

“Then I think I had another memory past night.” This caught Annette’s attention. “I… I saw a squirrel.” She quirked one eyebrow up, confused. “See, back in Erzsebet’s castle, I was always locked up. And it’s a cold place, there’s always too much snow. Even if I’d go out, I don’t think I’d ever see a squirrel.” You looked up at her, eyes gleaming with excitement. “B-But I saw a squirrel yesterday and I knew what it was, you see? It’s the same situation, isn’t it? A… a knowledge?”

Annette chuckled, but you saw in her eyes – they were very honest – that she didn’t find the situation funny at all. It was… maybe similar to what you saw in Alucard’s eyes past afternoon. It had sympathy and, again, a hint of sadness.

Oh… you let it slip the part about being locked up in a castle.

She was probably feeling bad about you.

“It might be,” she spoke, once again, in that soft tone. “Perhaps those things are common to you, and now you’re beginning to remember.”

Right.

Right, right, right. She was right. Your heartbeat kept up its fast pace as a million ideas flooded your mind. This was the first time you weren’t being mistreated and tortured. When you weren’t being tortured, you were under the constant anxiety of when it was going to happen next. That’s why you slept so much. This was the first time you refused to sleep in order to take in everything happening around you, even the smallest things. What if it was somehow healing your mind?

What if you used to live in a place with mushrooms and squirrels? What if it was a cottage like Juste’s, near a clearing? What if it had trees all around? What if… what if you had relatives that would hug you like Juste and Richter? What if they taught you the difference between an edible and a poisonous mushroom? What if you had parents?

What name did your parents give you?

What was your name? Your actual name, and not this mockery Erzsebet named you that night?

Ruby. That beautiful necklace, bejeweled with diamonds and a big ruby stone that you hated so much. It seemed to burn your skin, seemed to weight tons. But yes, it had the same color of your blood; the necklace got soaked with it whenever Erzebet’s fangs sank in your throat, it’d soak the collar of your dresses, it’d paint your body in that color, it’d paint the Vampire Messiah’s lips–

You gasped and flinched away when you felt a hand on your arm.

Annette looked at you with worry.

“I’m sorry. I called you a few times but you didn’t listen…”

You gulped, putting your hand over your chest and feeling your heart thundering nonstop. The way she was looking at you…

It happened again… just like yesterday, with Alucard…

You hated how your hands were shaking. You hated that you could feel your vision get blurred. You hated all of it, and you hated how a simple thought could make you drift back to her.

You also hated that this thing happened, yet again, with someone to witness. Heavens… you didn’t want to appear weak. These people already had enough problems; all you had to do was not bring them more trouble, to be as unnoticeable as possible, but how could they not notice you if you kept embarrassing yourself like that over and over again?

“My apologies.” You managed to speak somehow. “I’m fine.”

Annette pressed her lips together. Oh, you hated a bit how genuine her eyes were… she couldn’t hide any emotion at all. She felt bad for you. She was worried. You didn’t want to worry anyone.

The girl let out a deep sigh. She held the wooden bowl with both hands, pressing it close to her abdomen, and looked down. For the first time, you noticed the symbol burned on the skin of her right hand… it looked like a flower. Was she branded…?

“I… understand how you feel,” Annette started in a quiet voice. The way she somehow sounded fragile took you off guard; it was the first time you’d seen her like that. “I really do. Those people… they keep haunting you. On your sleep, or even when you’re awake…”

Wind swayed the trees above, played with Annette’s hair, made the golden rings around her locs tinkle softly. In that moment, she looked very young… no. She was very young. Yet, it was the first time you noticed it. She always kept a certain posture, a certain way of speech, that didn’t let this fact be noticed easily. Her fragility almost made her look child-like.

Oh…

The sadness in her eyes… it didn’t have much to do with you. Your state just reminded her of something painful.

“I am not saying that it’s easy to get over it. I still struggle myself,” she admitted quietly, as if she wasn’t proud of it. “And I am not saying that you should be embarrassed to feel this way. It’s… natural.”

Finally, she lifted her head, looking at you once again.

“I don’t know exactly what you went through. But what I can say is that… to be truly freed is to not be afraid. Because when you’re not afraid anymore, they can never hurt you again, even in your mind.” She opened a small, dimpled smile. “And when we defeat Erzsebet, justice will be done. You will be entirely free.”

Sunlight that breached through the leaves touched her face softly. Made her golden earrings glow; lightened her deep brown eyes, making them look caramel. The hint of sadness was still there, but they also shimmered with something else: hope. Courage.

You wondered what Annette must’ve been through; you weren’t brave enough to ask. You could see that life hadn’t been kind to her… her eyes didn’t lie. And even so, she was walking towards indescribable evil to fight against it, even though she had her own demons to face. She was taking her time to offer you encouraging words.

Annette was really like a sunflower; despite the darkness of the world, she chose to face the sun.

You didn’t even know what to reply.

“Thank you,” was all you managed to say now that your heart had fallen into a slower pace again. Luckily, Annette didn’t seem to expect you to elaborate. It’s like she knew you couldn’t.

She nodded and tapped the side of your arm. “We still have mushrooms to pick. And it’s better if you find them… I was about to poison us all, apparently,” she managed to jester, earning a chuckle from you.

When Annette came back, she had the weirdest expression on her face.

After you finished picking enough mushrooms, she went to look out for Richter. Although you were still uneasy, she declared that there was no danger nearby, so you could rest a little if you wanted – which you accepted to do, sitting under a tree for a while. It was nice being alone for some moments. You tried to hear your own mind; maybe it could whisper new memories…

However, Annette came back barely five minutes later with her eyes widened.

You got up immediately. “Did you find Richter? Is everything alright?”

The girl blinked several times. “Y-Yes, I found him. Everything’s alright.”

Annette… stuttering?

Then you noticed… she was blushing.

What…?

“We s-should reunite with Alucard,” she sounded a bit exasperated and rushed. “Richter’s still hunting, but I bet he–“

That’s when you heard the sound of the explosion.

The floor shook beneath your feet. The loud noise came from close by, followed by a loud grunt. Richter’s voice.

Your entire body got tense. Your eyes widened. Your breath hitched.

But, before you could say anything, Annette looked at something behind you and widened her eyes.

��Get down!”

She didn’t need to say it twice.

You dropped, covering your head with both hands, one second before a scrawny looking vampire could stab your temple with a knife.

The thing hissed – and for a second you got desperate thinking, Annette is going to die.

Only for one second, though.

It was the time it took her to kill him.

With a quick gesture of hers, the knife the vampire held melted into somewhat a formless pulp mid air and floated to her hand, where it was reshaped as a spear. With a groan of effort, Annette pierced through the vampire’s skull as if it was butter.

You looked at her in absolute shock.

“Nice reflexes!” She said. But you heard Richter’s voice again, the sound of flames whooshing in the wind, and other unknown voices; the sounds of a fight. “Let’s go!”

She grabbed you by the wrist and ran.

Your most primitive instincts wanted to run in the opposite direction; hell, you’d barely recovered from whatever just happened a second ago. Your worst fears became true; there were vampires deep within the forest, hiding in the shadows even during the day. And you were alone in the woods… if Annette had taken a minute longer, you’d have been knocked out. Maybe that vampire would’ve taken you and ran back to Erzsebet’s entourage. Was Alucard nearby? Did he heard the fight? Was he coming to help you three–?

All your thoughts disappeared.

Richter was fighting two vampires at the same time with his bare hands. You watched, in shock, as he switched from fire to ice to lightning, covering his punches and kicks in blue elemental magic, not showing any sign of struggle at all.

He managed to knock two of them – but didn’t notice as a third short vampire was ready to shot him with a shotgun. Annette was faster. Once again, she controlled the metal of the bullet, disintegrating it before it could even touch Richter, and forced the projectiles to ricochet back at its shooter.

Richter looked at you and Annette.

“I would’ve dodged that,” he complained, pouting.

“Is ‘thank you’ so hard?” Annette retorted.

The blue eyed boy looked at you. “Stand behind us, yes?” As if he needed to say it. Another tall vampire wearing an armor sprinted at them as they took their offensive positions.

You were in such a deep shock that you couldn’t even be scared anymore.

They… they weren’t struggling. At all. They were just human beings, fighting against vampires and winning, winning with the help of magic. They predicted the vampires’ moves and broke their attacks like it was nothing. They were so overwhelmingly superior that the enemies barely even noticed you were there, too focused in trying to survive.

Now you understood why Alucard trusted them without even knowing them well.

They didn’t even need Alucard’s aid.

Annette fought against a tall and skinny vampire. She controlled the blades he used on his sleeves, preventing him to run away; she then reshaped his blades into a sharp spear. After exchanging a few blows, she launched the spear with a scream of effort – and hit bullseye. Quite literally. The spear pierced into the vampire’s eye through his skull, killing him immediately.

Richter had ran off after the last vampire, disappearing from your sights.

“Where’d he go?!” she asked in a rushed tone. You pointed towards the direction he sprinted on, unable to speak.

She didn’t need to ask you to follow her.

When you reached him, the situation seemed under control. Richter had retrieved his whip, and the short vampire was down on his knees.

Richter smirked confidently.

“I hope the vampires in Paris are better than this bunch of blood wankers,” he boasted in a cocky way…

But the vampire smirked as well.

With a puff of black smoke, he turned into a small bat.

“Richter!” Annette called. At the same time, another vampire appeared from within the shadows.

The blue eyed boy didn’t know which to chase – but the new enemy seemed faster and more dangerous. His whip got involved in blue fire; with a single whiplash, the vampire was killed.

But the bat had already disappeared.

“The little one’s escaped!” Annette groaned. It was the first time she looked even slightly annoyed at Richter. She had a breathless scowl in her face, her nose slightly crunched. “Great! Now they know where we are going!”

Richter was distressed. He looked around, his cheeks flushed either because of the physical effort or sheer embarrassment. “Let’s– Let’s look around for him, he mustn’t be far!”

“A tiny bat flew away between the trees, Richter. We won’t find it.” The girl put her hands on each side of her waist.

They started arguing on what they should do next. You didn’t have it in you to interrupt.

Now that adrenaline was slowly fading away, you felt… pretty useless. All you could do was stand there like a frozen statue while these two fought like beasts. At least you didn’t disturb them or made the situation more difficult.

The bigger part of your brain was still frightened. A tiny part of it was… a little excited.

“I suppose we should tell Alucard,” Richter admitted defeat after apologizing over a hundred times, shoulders dropped and a flushed pout on his lips. Annette sighed.

“Let’s not. It probably won’t matter.” Maybe she had a point… these vampires didn’t look like Erzsebet’s servants. No cloaks, no moon symbol on their foreheads. She crossed her arms. “And I don’t want to give him another excuse for that ‘oh, you children’ look he does.”

You wanted to disagree, but you didn’t feel that you had the right… not after what you saw them do.

And… you couldn’t judge them for hiding something.

You were hiding something, too. Something you didn’t want to talk about – at least, not yet.

Three memories of yours awakened that day.

You knew what a squirrel was. You knew what poisonous and edible mushrooms were.

And...

I don’t think she knows who Dracula is, Annette said back then.

She was wrong.

You did.

#alucard x reader #castlevania #castlevania nocturne #adrian tepes #alucard x you #adrian fahrenheit tepes #castlevania alucard #alucard tepes #alucard adrian tepes #castlevania x reader

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my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction · 6 months ago

Text

At This Hour

Jonathan Levy x afab!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | request info • Kinktober 2024 Masterlist • Day 24: On the counter

Summary: You look after Ava while Jonathan goes out on a date.

A/N: Thank you so much @thexsanctuaryx for betaing and being so lovely! <3

Warnings: neighbour!reader, mentions of the reader liking horror films/Terrifier, reader also has a cat, p in v sex, cream pie, fingering, please let me know if I have missed a warning!

Word Count: 2554

Jonathan knows he shouldn’t be doing this. But he just can’t help himself.

The date had been a bad one, pointless in fact. He should have ducked out after the first ten minutes, no five.

But he’d stayed and now it was nearly twelve fucking am by the time he got home. He should really go to bed. Get some sleep.

Instead, he was talking to you, and drinking coffee. Oh, three am him was going to be pissed.

“I’m sorry I kept you so late,” Jonathan pushes his glasses higher. “Please, you got to let me give you some money.”

You shake your head, raising your hand, “Oh, no, no, no, you letting me pinch your netflix and amazon password for the last four months is more than enough.”

He chuckles, fiddling with his mug, “Yeah, but that’s just being neighbourly.”

You scoff. “It is not, Jonathan.”

Your friendship had started about seven months ago, when Jonathan had taken in a grand total of eight parcels from fedex on your, and your roommates, behalf in one day.

After collecting them, you’d apologised profusely, and baked him a banana cake. Panicking when you gave it to him that a, you didn’t actually know if he was allergic to anything, and b, that he actually liked bananas.

Luckily he did.

Your friendship had grown when his car wouldn’t start one morning, and you’d given him a lift to work on your moped and picked him up after. Plus you’d got your friend’s cousin’s, uncle’s ex-colleague to have a look at his car and sort out the problem.

He’d bought you lunch and looked after your cat if you had to go out of town. You watched his daughter if he had to work late on the days he had her.

Originally, this hadn’t been his weekend to have Ava, hence why he had a date. A very, very bad date.

“Come on,” he smiled at you, that horrible brilliantly blinding smile that leaves you weak at the knees, “usually you’re just with her for what, forty five minutes? An hour, this was nearly four.”

You giggle, “I can’t believe you didn’t just politely leave.”

“I am a man of faults.”

You laugh harder, ��Look, I like Ava, we watched a series of R rated horror films and I made sure she ate her weight in sugar without brushing her teeth.”

He grins. “I’m sure I would have had a better time with you guys here.”

You shrug, “Well, you can join us next time. We’re going to watch Terrifier.” You tease.

“Ugh,” he shudders, “Don’t tell me you like those kinds of films?”

You can’t stop from smiling at his dramatic reaction. “What? You don’t?”

He pulls a face and you giggle.

“They’re fun!”

“They are not.” He takes a sip of his cooling coffee, trying to nurse it as long as he could.

“They are.”

“All blood and guts.” He screws up his face, putting it on a bit for you.

“But the prosthetics! Plus it’s not real.” You say playfully.

“Freaky.” He shakes his head. “Too much for my old heart.”

You snort. “Jonathan.”

“What?” He smiles.

“I know what you’re doing.”

“What am I doing?”

“You just want me to tell you how young you are.” You rest your chin on your hand as you look at him.

He pauses and then nods rapidly, “I do actually, and you have to, it’s the social contract.”

You giggle, “Well, I’m not.”

“That's unfair.” He says in mock outrage, making you laugh harder.

“Fine,” you hold up your hands, “You’re very handsome.”

He pauses, looking at you for a moment. “I said you had to tell me I was young, not beautiful.” He teases, expecting you to throw a comment back at him immediately.

But instead, you pause. For a moment, it’s almost funny how you freeze.

“I…” You swallow, your mouth dry. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.

“It’s okay,” he quickly covers, “I’m just teasing, it’s fine.”

You smile weakly, your skin burning. You get up quickly, nearly knocking your mug over in the process. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

“Sorry, I, erm,” you pick up your mug, and then his, “Let me, erm, I’ll put them in the dishwasher.”

You turn before he even has a chance to say anything, rushing over to the other side of the kitchen, putting the mugs on the counter.

Jonathan stands quickly, calling your name, “Hey, it’s fine, really. Don’t worry,” anxiety cuts into his chest, leaving his ribs bare. He walks behind you, accidentally bumping into you as you turn.

“Sorry,” he grabs your arm to steady you and himself, his heart thudding so hard in his temples he’s sure he’s going to burst a blood vessel.

You glance at his eyes nervously, breathing hard. “I…”

“I didn’t mean to embarrass you.” He says softly. He should put his hand down, stop touching your arm. “I was just teasing.”

You nod, “I know, I… I’m sorry.” Your insides squirm a little, trying to find a way out to escape this awkwardness.

“Don’t be,” he breathes, leaning a fraction closer. “It’s always nice when someone beautiful calls you handsome.”

Your brain glitches, static for a moment, rebooting.

“Beautiful?” You repeat.

“Beautiful.” His mouth says before he has any say in the matter. “And kind, and funny, and wond-”

You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to you and kissing him deeply. He groans into your mouth, pressing you back against the counter.

It takes him a moment to catch up with his body, to figure out this is actually real, not some well used fantasy he plays out behind his eyes in the shower.

You pull lightly at his hair, moaning softly when he licks into your mouth and pushes his legs between yours. He rocks against you, his cock quickly hardening in his trousers as he presses against the seam of your jeans.

Part of him wants to pull back, to not push things, to not rush. But the much louder voice in his head laments at how long he’s been holding back, how long he’s been thinking of you while touching himself with a lubed hand.

You gasp as he kisses along your jaw, his beard tickling your skin as he sucks at your pulse point greedily. God, if he could just get you to make that noise one more time.

“Jonathan,” you moan softly, pressing yourself closer to him and pulling on his shoulders, needing to rid the fraction of space between you.

He growls, nipping at your neck and nearly coming on the spot when he hears how needily you call his name. “Can I take these off?” His words are nearly lost with how he sucks on your skin, barely able to move his mouth back more than a centimetre. He pulls at your top, your trousers and you nod hastily.

His groan at your confirmation makes you shiver. He practically tears your clothing from you, pushing and pulling the material away as if it personally offended him, before he hikes your right leg up around his waist and urges you up onto the counter.

He sucks your breasts into his mouth greedily, quickly going from one to another, like a child in a toy store unable to choose his favourite. While he presses his thumb to your clit and strokes his fore and middle fingers through your folds.

He groans deeply at the wetness he finds, rocking against you as he pushes inside.

You gasp, biting down on your lip to keep yourself vaguely quiet as you cling onto his shoulders with one hand and the counter with the other.

He strokes gently, pressing rhythmically against your walls as he toys with your clit and you sob, practically clinging onto him for dear life.

Pleasure builds dizzyingly fast in your belly, threatening to pull you down with every stroke. You moan in his ear, lightheaded, just about gathering yourself together to whimper his name. You weren’t prepared for this utter onslaught, for him to be so determined to pull you apart piece by piece.

Spikes of sensation buzz along your skin, twisting and building.

“You’re going to make me come,” you sob, shocked at how quickly your body is ready to fall apart.

“Fuck yes,” he growls, sinking his teeth into your collar bone before he licks up your neck back to your lips. It’s hot and wet and messy, his tongue in your mouth to quiet your sobs as you pulse and gasp, coming violently around his fingers.

You shake in his grip, breaking the kiss to bury your face in his shoulder. He works you through it, stroking and pumping until you feel like liquid in his hands.

“God,” he groans, kissing your forehead and breathing hard. He takes his fingers out of you slowly and shoves them in his mouth, moaning wantonly at the taste.

When you manage to pull back a fraction to look at him, you can see his glasses have steamed up. You giggle and he grins around his fingers, taking them out with a pop to kiss you.

You run your hands through his hair, shivering as he presses close once more.

“Do you?” He starts at the same moment you speak - “Can I?”

He chuckles, nodding for you to go first.

“Take these off.” You mutter, pulling at his jumper. He moves back a fraction, letting you pull it over his head and snorting when his glasses get caught in the neckline. He whips them off, placing them on the side, his curls wild.

Jonathan bites his lip as you unbuckle his jeans, helping you by undoing his fly.

“Can I fuck you?” He groans, kissing your cheek and jaw, each glide of his tongue makes your body sing.

“Please.”

He growls, barely pushing his jeans and boxers down his thighs before he’s taking his heavy cock in hand and pumping himself a few times.

You take a cheeky look down and bite your lip.

He grins, “Like what you see?”

The line would make you giggle in any other situation, but now your mouth is watering. You nod rapidly.

“Oh,” he chuckles, spitting in his hand, “So that’s what makes you lost for words, I get it.” He smears his saliva over the head of his cock before he presses closer, guiding the tip to your folds.

“You’re really-” You whine, gasping as he notches at your entrance and just glides inside. Your fingers dig into his shoulders, your body bucking unthinkingly as he pushes deeper.

He groans deeply, sighing like this is his first drink of water after a long hot day. He slides his hands to your inner thighs, spreading you wider as he eases in.

“Jonathan,” you gasp.

“I know, I know, fuck, you’re so tight.” He lightly rocks his hip, sheathing himself in the last few inches.

You whine, licking into his mouth when he kisses you hungrily. He thrusts experimentally, easing out a fraction before he pushes back in.

“How do you like it?” He mutters against your lips, his voice strained with the effort of holding himself back.

“I don’t mind,” you manage to say, your voice barely there.

He snorts, moving one of your legs to wrap around his waist again as he takes hold of your hips in a firm grip. “Tell me if you want something.” He groans, pulling out and then plunging back in. “Want to make you come again.”

You nearly shriek, throwing your head back and managing, somehow, to keep your voice muffled as he sets a brutal pace.

He bucks into you rapidly, shaking the cutlery on the drainer by the sink with every deep thrust. The toaster jumps with every buck of his hips into yours. The sound of your slick echoing as you coat his cock.

“You look so fucking hot when you come,” he groans. “So fucking wet.” He pounds into you, sweat beading in his hairline, the way you grab at him and whine setting his blood ablaze.

His pubic bone smacks against your clit with every thrust, his cock rolling against your walls and pushing impossibly deeper.

Something in you wants to break, needs to snap and flood out as he keeps rhythm, your body moving in time with his desperately.

You bite at his neck, sucking a love bite into his skin and shivering when he tenses and growls. He pulls you back a fraction with one hand on your jaw, his eyes so dark, and licks into your mouth like you hold the secrets of the universe.

You whimper, so needy for anything he’ll give - and he’ll give you everything.

Pleasure pulses in your core, makes your pussy flutter and you’re so close you can taste the sweetness on your tongue.

“Jonathan!”

“You gonna come on my cock? Gonna make a nice creamy mess?” He groans, his balls tightening. “Want to feel you, please.”

You gasp, sobbing silently as your orgasm is ripped from you. Pleasure explodes along your nerves, wiping out any other thought as he drowns you and revives you in the same instant.

“Shit.” Jonathan’s hips stutter, his mouth open as your walls squeeze and suck him deeper, milking him for every single drop. He comes with a deep groan, emptying rope after rope of hot, thick cum inside.

He clings onto you as he finishes, hazy for a moment with the strength of his orgasm.

You breathe hard, he can feel your heart beating rapidly in your chest.

Lightly he sucks on your neck, licking the salt from your skin. He kisses your temple. “You okay?”

“I don’t think I’m gonna be able to walk for a week.” You tease, exhausted, and he chuckles.

“I’ll wait on you hand and foot while you recover.” He smiles when you look up at him, stroking your cheek as he kisses you softly, reverently.

“Honestly, was that alright?” He mutters, a pang of worry settling under his ribs.

You snort, and kiss him deeply, stroking your fingers through his beard. “Fucking amazing.”

He grins. “Do you want to do it again sometime? Maybe in a bed after I’ve bought you dinner? I’ll even watch that Terrifier film with you.”

You giggle and nod. “I’d like that.”

He tries to help you down, but you end up helping him. His jeans have twisted around his calves and he nearly falls to a heap on the floor.

“My hero,” he mutters as you pull them off and kiss his thigh. “We’re lucky Ava didn’t wake up when we were… can you imagine me falling over is the thing that actually wakes her? She’ll need therapy for years after seeing her dad naked on the kitchen floor with his jeans around his ankles.”

You clap your hand over your mouth to stop your fit of laughter and he grins as he helps you back to your feet.

“I love hearing you laugh.” He lightly touches your cheek. “Do you want to take a shower?” He gives you a cheeky smile. “With me? You can stay over… if you want, I mean. No pressure.”

You smile and nod. “I’d like a shower. With you. And sleep over.”

He grins, wrapping his arms around you.

Thank you for reading!

@pleasurebuttonwrites @raven-rk @campingwiththecharmings @alexxavicry @whatthefishh

@romanarose @strangerhands @saturn-rings-writes ho

@steven-grants-world @eyelessfaces @angel-of-the-moons @minigirl87 @lunar-ghoulie

@silvernight-m @autismsupermusicalassassin @apesarecuul @reallyrallyauthor @basicalyrandom

@alwaysmicado @mangoslushcrush @marc-spectorr @spxctorsslxt @novarosewood

@pygmi-cygni @hammerhead96 @emma23 @sub-aro @killerdollz

@maplemind @mwltwo @loonymagizoologist @dameronshandholder @queerly-anxious

@homuraak3mi @swiftiegirliepop @oscarssimp @milkypompon @eternallyvenus

@mandytrekkie @lounilu @avengersinitiative2012 @pigeonmama @marcsb1tch

@iolaussharpe-24 @chaithetics @DowBaStan @faretheeoscar@lonelyisamyw-0love

@queerponc @twwcs @Spnwhore2430 @mari-thesimp @ominoose

@ierofrnkk @have-you-seen-my-sanity @to-be-a-sunshine @blushingrn @missdictatorme

@howellatme

If you'd like to be taken off the tag list please let me know here

#jonathan levy #scenes from a marriage #jonathan levy x reader #x reader #jonathan levy x you #x you #jonathan levy x female reader #x female reader #jonathan levy x f!reader #x f!reader #jonathan levy x fem!reader #x fem!reader #my writing #fanfic #oscar isaac #oscar isaac characters

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blackkatmagic · 9 months ago

Note

Can I ask why you're so strongly against emojis as comments?

So there are...two parts to this answer. One is in the frame of like...my brain interprets someone dropping an emoji as basically the equivalent of a like. "I was here, but I didn't like what you created enough to say anything about it." And I get that, truly. But due to physical and mental health things in my recent life, writing has been hard. Getting that kind of response is super disheartening, even if I know logically that most people don't see emoji comments the same way I do.

The other part is that I'm old. I've been in fandom for a long time - I was on email lists writing ST fanfic, and then in weird subgroup forums where you were only allowed to write certain things the mods felt were "canon-supported", and then finally on more mainstream sites like ffnet and AO3. Fandom's always been a community for me, right from the first. I would not still be writing if it hadn't been for the handful of fans who were exceptionally kind and encouraging to a nerdy German girl who wrote in bad English and had weird ideas for plotlines and talked too much. They were the people who kept me going, having conversations with me and leaving kind comments on objectively bad fics and getting jazzed about the same things as me.

In fandom as a whole, emoji comments are a very new phenomenon. I've gone back to look, and they only started becoming common about two years ago. And now, before I asked people not to leave them, they were rapidly becoming the majority of the comments I received.

Again, I get why. It's an easy way to show appreciation. But it's also a complete lack of engagement. It means someone liked something! But as the writer you have no idea what. There's no community to it, just bland consumption of the content you're rolling out. No one is talking about fandom, they're just taking. And I see my hit counts. I know that's always happened, but it's getting to be more and more of a thing. Emoji spamming on every single chapter of a 70-chapter fic might feel, to the commenter, like they're being super supportive, but it's also less impactful for a writer and a fellow fan than a person who leaves one comment that says something they liked about the plot or the writing style or some neat flip on a canon trope.

So yeah. Basically it's a "get off my lawn" thing about how the youngsters in fandom have no appreciation for the effort artists and writers and the like put in, but. I don't think I'm wrong, given the way things are trending.

Anyway. Reblog things, comment on things, send people asks, interact with things if you want fandom to keep going, my dudes. Otherwise it's going to die out. And people dropping emojis instead of words 99 times out of 100 is a symptom of that.

#kat answers #don't fucking jump into my inbox to yell at me about how i'm wrong or ignoring fans who don't speak english etc #i WAS a fan who didn't speak english

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rogueddie · 1 year ago

Text

Disabled Steve / Eddie Fics

Important: READ THE TAGS! Also, leave a comment and kudos! These fics are amazing and I love them and I hope y'all do too 🦻

give me a sign

findmeinthewychelm

It was sweet torture the way Steve was pining over him. Robin was sick of listening to him talk about Eddie, but she also hadn’t stopped him yet.

Words : 4,235 Chapters : 1/1 Rating : General Audiences

AO3 : x

what would you trade the pain for (i'm not sure)

Library_of_Gage

Steve doesn't bother anyone with his chronic pain; it's something he'd rather keep to himself. And then it spikes in the Upside Down, in front of Eddie Munson, and Steve slowly starts to learn that, sometimes, sharing what hurts does help.

Words : 8,230 Chapters : 1/1 Rating : Teen and Up Audiences

AO3 : x

Our Love is Shown in the Letting Go

Xxbottlecapxx

Steve’s mother comes home and has to deal with the fact that she has no idea who her son is, and maybe never will.

Words : 10,189 Chapters : 1/1 Rating : Not Rated

AO3 : x

Who Am I to Say What Any of This Means?

IndigoFudge

Eddie’s eyebrows are raised. He’s speaking deliberately. “My first grade teacher set up a meeting with Wayne and told him she thought I had autism. So Wayne took me to the doctors and it turned out she was right.”

He is still looking at Steve. Oh. Steve’s been staring at him like an idiot for forty seconds instead of acknowledging this important, incredibly personal detail that he has just shared. Steve remembers eye contact––one, two, three––then answers. “That’s cool.”

“Steve,” Eddie says, carefully. “Have you ever been tested? Because I’ve been noticing… When I look at you, I kinda see some signs.”

Words : 7,371 Chapters : 1/1 Rating : Teen and Up Audiences

AO3 : x

she'll know me crazy, soothe me daily (better yet, she wouldn't care)

jewishrat420

Eddie doesn’t really cry about this anymore. He’s long since shed his own personal tears of pity, spent enough time mourning a different life. He’s accepted it, for the most part, doesn’t really give a shit about being normal or whatever. No one’s normal.

But this…Eddie’s not used to this. He’s never had someone hold his face in their hands, look him dead in the eyes and say, “Eddie Munson. For better or for worse, and fuck, I know this is worse, I want to know you.”

Words : 3,988 Chapters : 1/1 Rating : Teen and Up Audiences

AO3 : x

the beginning of a bad joke

alligator_writes

At the beginning of his rant, lecture, whatever, Hottie stares right at him. He has a really intense stare. Pretty brown eyes set in a prettier face with even prettier hair on top of his head. Eddie gets distracted by all that pretty and by trying to make his point.

And he doesn’t notice until halfway through that Hottie isn’t looking at him anymore. He’s looking at his friend.

Eddie looks at her, too. Looks at her confused and focused expression. Looks at her hands moving rapidly.

Oh. G-d.

Hottie’s deaf, isn’t he?

Words : 7,083 Chapters : 1/1 Rating : Teen and Up Audiences

AO3 : x

I Took The Good Times, I’ll Take The Bad Times (I Take You Just The Way You Are)

steddieeddie

In 1984, Eddie Munson told Steve he was going to marry him one day laying in the quiet confines of Steve’s room.

In 1985, they broke up. It wasn’t because they wanted to, but because Steve thought they had to. They spent almost an entire year apart, hurting, wondering about what could have been.

In 1986, Steve Harrington was almost fatally injured in the final attack against The Upside Down, against Vecna. He spent seventy six days comatose, and then almost an entire year in the hospital learning how to be a person again. He learns how to open and close his hands, hold things, and how to feed himself again. Steve learns how to stand, how to walk, going from walker to cane by the time he is allowed to go home.

In 1987, he did just that. He goes home.

It was a slow process. Way slower than Steve wanted it to be, but it was worth it.

Sure, his hands were never going to work the same, there was constant pain in his arms and left leg, and he would never walk without a cane, but at least he’s alive.

He made it.

That was what mattered.

Words : 30,101 Chapters : 1/1 Rating : Mature

AO3 : x

#stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #fic rec #ficrec

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dayntee · 2 months ago

Text

[Fic] That Year at Arlathan University - Chapter 14: Finals Week*

Summary:

In which Solas and Ellana are puzzling each other out.

Full chapter on AO3 and a snippet posted below. Going to start keeping the majority of the text over on AO3 to both encourage engagement (fufufu) and also because these are getting really effing long and reformatting them on Tumblr takes for damn ever. If you don't have an AO3 account and want to comment anyway, please feel free to leave it here. Preview below the cut!

*****

When she awoke, she was startled at first at the heavy feeling around her waist. It had been a long time since she had shared her bed with anyone and her sleep had been so peacefully deep that it took a moment for her to fully absorb her surroundings.

But there he was, sleeping blissfully next to her, hair a ruffled mess as it worked its way out of his half-knot hairstyle from the night before. She watched him for a few minutes, still so far away from the waking world, yet anchored to her as his hand rested comfortably on her hip.

‘He likes what he likes,’ she mused, keeping her giggle internal, and gently slid from his grasp and out of bed. He barely shifted; she wondered if dreamers were always deep sleepers or if it was just one of his quirks.

She took care moving about anyway, thinking it likely he rarely afforded himself the luxury of sleeping in. It was a holiday, after all, and while finals week for the semester was rapidly approaching, there was no reason they couldn’t enjoy the day to themselves. A glance at the clock—7:09 AM. No rush needed; there would be plenty of time to worry (and work) later.

She pulled on a pair of underwear and an over-sized t-shirt, a remnant of one of many free handouts from her own time in college. She had traveled out of the Free Marches to Fereldan Community College on an exchange program, and it seemed no matter which region she was in, freebies always came in men’s size large.

A few moments in the bathroom to clean off the makeup she’d failed to remove the night previously, another to remove her contacts, and yet several more to disentangle the pin she’d forgotten in her hair, and she finally looked… well, normal. To herself, anyway, her hair pulled lazily back in a messy bun and her thick-rimmed glasses she very purposefully never wore in public. She’d have left her lenses in if she didn’t know (from personal experience) how horrible the headache would be from wearing them too long.

She gave another peek over at Solas as she made her way to the larger living space. Apart from rolling over and the arm previously draped over her now laying across his face like some tired, inconvenienced cat, he’d barely stirred. She stifled a snort; there was no telling how long he’d be out, so perhaps checking her email would buy her a little time before making some breakfast.

The shared space that stretched from living room to kitchenette (as the simple burner and half size fridge could hardly constitute a real kitchen) didn’t fit much. Beyond a couch that was barely more than a love seat, a coffee table, and a simple entertainment center with a modest TV, she had felt like she had never really left college. In a way, she supposed she hadn’t; building her own space or owning her own furniture just weren’t priorities when the opportunity to come to Arlathan had presented itself.

She opened her university email to several messages; that was never a good sign, especially on a day when no one was supposed to be working. At least three of them were from Josephine, wondering where she and Solas had gone during the dinner last night. She grimaced; while she had every good reason to have gone after Solas, leaving the event when she did likely had consequences and she was going to have to deal with them. She drafted a quick excuse, one that skirted around the truth as much as she could. Solas hadn’t felt well (which was true, in a way) and she needed to get him elsewhere (which was also true, but in a very different way). No one was injured, everyone was fine, and they would both check back in after the long weekend. Hopefully that would be enough to assuage any wild concerns until she could talk to Josie in person.

The next was from Harding. All it said, in all caps, was “CALL ME” and that earned another grimace. Right, her phone. Where was her phone?

She got up from the couch and walked over to the kitchen, realizing the stray bits of clothes they’d shed last night remained strewn around haphazardly. She gathered as she went, futilely attempting to smooth out wrinkles, when she spotted her clutch at the bottom of the sink.

Two inches to the left and it would have landed in a dirty bowl of water, left soaking from her oatmeal the previous morning. She let out a sigh of relief; for once, a little luck. She pulled the clutch, then her phone, out and swiped. Dead.

Oh well. A little luck was better than no luck at all.

As she returned to the couch, she did her best to lay out their clothes in neater piles across the back before returning to her inbox. There was one more email from an address she hadn’t seen before, but the domain address was more than recognizable.

Anything from a venatori.inc address couldn’t be good news. Surely the “Future Ellana’s Problems” box had room for one more item; she closed her laptop lid.

That box was admittedly starting to get pretty full.

She plugged her phone into a wall charger in the living room and set about making breakfast; maybe it was a diversion, but just like the sleeping man in her bed, it was a welcome one.

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insert-clever-username-1133 · 3 months ago

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*burns down building cutely* guys im literally just a girl!!!

welcome to my blog

hi guys!!! im loralai but you can call me lora. this post is a running collection of all my chaos

you guys like lists? good bc that's all ive got for you

stuff i do

art

i draw in ibis paint on my phone with a disc stylus and use capcut to edit animatics (which yes, i can still do, despite being in the us). most of my stuff is tagged with either #art or #doodles, rarely both. doodles is my old tag for sketches and... well, doodles. i put everything under the art tag now

writing

i have one published fic right now with another multi chapter on the way and some one shots im going to get to eventually! i don't have an update schedule. im little1133 on ao3

music

if you have perfect pitch talk to me please i need someone who understands the feeling when you get a song stuck in your head and you can't remember what key it's in but all the keys you picture it in sound wrong so now it's in your head but it sounds WRONG

fandoms

epic the musical

this is my main fandom right now! epic has had a huge effect on my life, gotten me back into drawing and writing :) im always down to yap about the babies or read your fic or whatever

i love odypen so so much. also i heard someone use the ship name penelody and that's the prettiest ship name ive ever heard i think. platonic eurypoli is also one of my favs. im a eurylochus defender for life

if you follow me you are big time signing up for epic spam

kotlc

this is my longest-term fandom i think. i love this little fandom so much!! Katie (@ myfairkatiecat , very cool user) got me into it last summer (i know, not very long term for my longest term fandom. im young okay). im a keefe defender (sorry stria) and i love fintan pyren a normal amount. fav ships are sokeefe, dexiana, and fintante! i am a sucker for platonic sophitz. they go well together what can i say

iywalirayhtdwa > wiityispb

percy jackson / riordanverse

i love love love this series so much. leo is my baby. percabeth should be called smartwater for ever and ever. i don't participate in this fandom because i learned my lesson from kotlc about joining the fandom before you're done reading and ive already gotten spoiled enough just from random youtube comments. am i really going to abstain from this fandom until ive read all however many series there are? probably not

greek mythology in general

dnd

yeah... right above this is percy jackson and epic the musical. you knew this was coming. im rapidly turning into the greek mythology kid. it's bad.

hadestown

i listened to the soundtrack with animatics a bit ago and im planning on watching a recording of the actual show. this musical has already. made me. FEEL THINGS. A LOT. doubt comes in absolutely broke me which im sure isn't a surprise to anyone who's seen hadestown. just like in epic Hermes is a whole vibe and a half. living it up on top, chant, and why we build the wall have alternated being played on loop in my brain. this musical is literally so.

im currently playing in a dnd campaign (#ivanna) as an elven wizard named Ivanna and in the late planning stages of dming a campaign (#crossfire campaign) for me and my friends. im unwell about both of these things

mouthwashing

i... don't have much to say about this fandom. im not very active in it. love the fanart. love daisuke and anya ofc. we be taking responsibility with this one

elnea kingdom

i don't really post about this game on here because the fandom is mainly on Reddit. this is here purely for propaganda. look up this game and play it. you know you want toooo ohh you wanna play it soooo baaaad

posts i want you to see

too lazy to do this list rn. im gonna link the seaglass vacker eyes post, the Ody is the short one in odypen, and some of my top posts later

tags ig

#art - self explanatory.

#bookmark - things I'm saving to refer back to later.

#liveblog - ive been doing this less lately but it's always a tradition for me to do at least a few liveblogs whenever im consuming a new media. i love this tag because it contains my magnum opus: my huge reblog chains with every little thought i had while reading kotlc. all of them have like 40 self reblogs to just add to them. there's a chain for each book, and i did it for the first like 5 or 6 books. i highly recommend looking at those they're very funny.

userboxes + other

i don't have a dni. if i don't like you ill block you

im not donating to your gofundme

my interests are subject to change on a whim with zero warning

#pinned post

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mrowmrowmrow9 · 9 months ago

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unfinished Crisis AU snippet

This is an unfinished fic built off of the last prompt fill I did (x). I haven't worked on it in a while and was considering it fully abandoned until @madeunmexico left a comment on ao3 asking to see the full story and now my interest has been renewed slightly? I give it like a 50/50 chance of being finished 😅 Anyways, here's what I had including the original microstory.

Barry. Kate. Kal. Fear on their faces. Blood on Oliver’s. Shadow demons hurtling towards them—

A familiar voice. “Kara.”

A harsh whisper, bordering on frantic. “Kara. Hey.”

She wakes up screaming, limbs flailing, fighting against the hands pulling at her and the arms wrapping around her middle.

“Shh. It's okay. It was just a dream. You’re okay.”

Kara gives up struggling and lets herself be held, choking on tears. She knows that voice, she does, but her mind dismisses the thought as soon as it forms. It can’t be him. Can’t be. She realizes for the first time that it isn’t nighttime, the reason everything’s dark is because her eyes are squeezed shut, so tightly it hurts. She opens them slowly, blinking rapidly to adjust to the light.

She’s in her apartment, wearing pajamas. That doesn’t make sense. What makes even less sense, if that’s possible, is that when Kara opens her eyes and raises her head and blinks to clear her vision so she can see who’s holding her, she’s met with a face that she’s only seen in dreams for the past two and a half years.

Mon-El.

When Kara sees him, she throws up.

Actually throws up, for the first time in her adult life—super-speed has never been more helpful as she makes it to the bathroom just in time to hurl the contents of her stomach into the toilet. The person that looks like Mon-El and sounds like Mon-El and smells like Mon-El but cannot possibly be Mon-El comes running in after her. It’s too late to hold her hair back and she hears the faucet running instead.

“Here, do you want some water?”

She takes it automatically and drains the glass in one gulp, presses a hand to her head with a groan. Crisis. Oliver. The Monitor—she has to get her thoughts in order. How did she get here? Also very important: “What. What are you doing here?” she manages to get out.

“Hmm? Oh yeah, I know it’s early, Rhonda’s girlfriend is in town and she asked me to trade shifts.” Possibly-Mon-El checks his watch. He’s fully dressed; he must have heard her from the kitchen before leaving the apartment. That he…seems to live in? Was staying in? Nothing makes sense. “Crap, I should probably get going. Unless you need me to stay?” He looks at her expectantly, those warm gray eyes filled with concern.

“No, you’re fine,” Kara says quickly and closes her eyes, her head throbbing. I meant, what are you doing in my apartment? In this century, for that matter? Whatever. The sooner he’s gone, the sooner she can figure out what the hell is going on.

“Alright.” He sighs, reaching out to gently brush her hair off her shoulder. “I hope the morning gets better. Let me know if you need anything—I think we still have some fruit salad left from yesterday. You said it helped with the nausea, right?”

She nods absently without registering his words, and watches him go. With some deliberate stalling while brushing her teeth, she manages to hide out in the bathroom until he leaves. But not without calling out “Love you!” through the door and Kara nearly has a heart attack. What kind of fucked-up dream could she be having? This cannot be real. It can’t be.

Her appetite eventually comes back, with it the realization that she’s seriously late for work, and as she grabs the container out of the fridge to bring with her the light glints off her left hand, catching her eye.

Kara has always thought of herself as a reasonably intelligent person. This belief is somewhat shaken by the realization that it’s taken her this long to notice the engagement ring on her finger.

He doesn’t suspect anything. Why would he? She did seem oddly confused to see him, but dreams can be disorienting. Theirs certainly are—dying families, exploding planets, backstabbing allies. And that’s on top of everything…else.

He just hopes she’s happy. He hopes it’s nothing he did.

So, Nia’s clueless. Who isn’t? Still disoriented as all hell, Kara returns to the Catco building to find her coworkers exchanging tearful embraces. It looks like a middle-aged woman with curly hair whom Kara has never seen before in her life is leaving Catco for a job in Utah. At least, according to the conversation Kara listens in on in an attempt to figure out how to act normal.

Evidently she doesn’t do a very good job, because Nia frowns at her while she’s discreetly taking Brainy’s super-strength Advil and asks, “Aren’t you going to say goodbye to Julie?”

“R-Right, yeah,” Kara stammers, heart pounding, and awkwardly makes her way over.

This Julie is clearly under the impression that she and Kara are close friends, judging by the tight, rose-scented embrace Kara’s enveloped in before she can blink.

“Oh, I almost forgot!” Julie rushes over to the desk that must have been hers and pulls a large paper bag out from underneath it. “I know I’m going to miss the party, so I wanted to give you this before I leave. They’re not new, but they’re still in good shape and, well, we don’t really need them anymore—I thought you and Mike would appreciate some extras!” She hands the bag to Kara, smiling expectantly.

Kara doesn’t think she’s ever been more confused in her life. She takes the bag, because what else is there to do, and cautiously peers inside.

Baby clothes. Little socks and hats and a onesie with little ducks on it—great Rao, why is her vision getting blurry? “W-What are these for?” Kara asks, almost demands really, frantically blinking the tears away.

Now it’s Julie’s turn to be confused. “Well…the baby, of course!”

The fucking what now? “Right…of course,” Kara says slowly, fumbling for the right thing to say. “That’s so generous, thank you.”

“No problem!” Julie smiles and reaches out to squeeze her shoulder. “I’m really going to miss you, Kara.”

Kara watches her walk away, gaping openly.

One thing is clear: she needs to talk to J’onn. Immediately.

They’re out on the balcony together, standing a careful distance apart and it feels like old times in the worst way possible.

On a masochistic impulse, Mon-El plays back a moment from only twenty-four hours earlier.

He’s drifting off to sleep in their bed, drowsy and content with Kara in his arms and his hand over her belly right where the baby grows and he thinks to himself, a life like this is too good to be true. And yet it is. He should have known better.

Three years ago Mon-El returned to the 21st century with a wife by his side and claimed he felt nothing for Kara. That couldn’t have been further from the truth, but now it’s the last thing she remembers of him. The irony.

She doesn’t remember how he came back for her, or rather refused to leave again, even as she told him he was being selfish. She doesn’t remember how he said, I know. But one of us has to be. And we both know it was only ever going to be me. She doesn’t remember how they found their way back to each other, how he asked her to marry him and she said yes and their happiness was so great they just had to share it, create their own little family. It sounds like a fairy tale to him now, and he realizes that maybe that’s all it ever was.

Mon-El blinks back the tears that arise at the thought, swallowing down the lump in his throat. It isn’t the time for that now. He’s already cried on Alex’s shoulder, had J’onn explain everything to him a hundred times over. Right now, an emotional response from him is not what Kara needs. “I went over and got my things from the apartment,” he says, fighting to keep his voice even. “J’onn says I can stay with him for a while.”

“Okay.” Kara exhales. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to kick you out, I just—”

“No, it’s fine.” He meets her eyes and tries to muster some kind of half-smile. “It’s a lot, I get it.”

She nods, biting her lip, and the turns to him abruptly. “Can we talk somewhere more private?”

Thank Rao.

He rethinks agreeing to go to the apartment almost as soon as the door closes behind him. Everywhere he looks is a reminder of their life together, the one that Kara doesn’t remember.

She wrings her hands together. “Before we talk about anything else, there’s something I need to know.”

Mon-El braces himself. “Okay.”

Kara draws in a deep breath, and then blurts out, “Do we have a child?”

There it is. “No,” he says carefully. “Not…yet. But…” He licks his lips and steps forward, gently setting a hand on her belly. He watches the realization dawn in her eyes.

“I’m…”

“Yeah.” He retracts his hand and lets it hang awkwardly at his side. “Twelve weeks.”

She puts a hand on the countertop as if to steady herself and says nothing, eyes wide.

“I’m…sorry I didn’t say anything before,” Mon-El adds helplessly, ducking his head to try and meet her gaze. “I wasn’t sure if you already knew, or if physical conditions even carried over for the Paragons, but then I remembered you threw up this morning so I just figured—”

“Shh—stop talking.” Kara holds a hand up, closing her eyes.

He shuts up.

She breathes out, slowly. “I-I’m sorry.”

“…It’s okay,” he says awkwardly.

“I just, I need some time to…think.”

“Right. Yeah, of course.” Mon-El takes a step back, clears his throat. “I, um. I’ll go. We can…talk more tomorrow?”

Kara nods absently, staring past him like he isn’t even there.

He shuts the door behind himself, and manages to avoid breaking down until the elevator. Small victories.

#supergirl #karamel #my writing #karamel fanfic

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onlyhereforturtles · 1 year ago

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20 Questions For Fic Writers

So, I am brand new to the posting fics online scene and don't have much to back up these questions with. Most of what I've written are personal WIPs I will probably never release if finished, and I don't release much due to my inability to finish stories as well as my writing mostly being personal. So, since I've only got two released fics out due to this, I'm going to use my WIPs to answer some of these.

Thanks so much to @daboyau for the tag! This was fun!

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

2 at the moment. Much of what I write is personal or I don't finish it, so I haven't released many.

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

29,684, though with all my countless WIPs it's around 500,000

3. What fandoms do you write for?

TMNT, TF2, Creepypasta, MLP, and Hetalia, though I've only posted one of the TMNT fics and the others will never see the light of day!

(They're not finished and won't be).

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Of the two that are on there, the 2003 Lighthouse AU ranks above Work or Death in kudos.

5. Do you respond to comments?

Of course! But I'm also a bit (a lot) antisocial, even on the Internet. So I know there's going to be comments I want to respond to but don't know how to 😅

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

So, I tend to fail no matter how hard I try at writing bad or angsty endings. Somehow everything always ends up going well for the characters, even if I want them to fail. I'm great at giving trauma, just not giving bad endings. I also don't finish a lot of what I write, so there's a small pool to pick from here.

That being said, there is one I know of where both of the endings were planned before I even started writing it, (and no, I'm not finished with it yet), and one of them is a "bad" ending, so to speak. I don't want to talk too much about it, since it is a personal project, but essentially the main character has traveled to a different time and place where an alternate version of her family exists, except all of them are dead but one of her brothers. A lot happens, of course, but it eventually ends up with him being so injured he's rapidly dying. She has the ability to heal him, but he tells her not to because he wants to be with his family again. They have a whole emotional conversation and he dies in her arms. And then she's reunited with her real brothers hours later and won't let the one who died in her arms go for days afterwards. So, like, a bittersweet type of thing.

And that is quite literally the only angsty ending I've ever written. Angsty middles, however, is all I do, and angsty beginnings are a specialty of mine.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

The good ending of the one above! After years of battling through several different places on the way home, most of which consisting of alternate versions of people she knew, she finally got to make it back to her real family! They thought she was dead, so the reunion is of course filled with tears and group hugs and a lot of feelings. But that technically happens in both endings. The thing that makes it the good ending is that she was able to save her alternate brother and take him home with her, so he had a new family to love. (Yes I know the new family being his old family is a whole thing that could be psychologically bad. I assure you there's circumstances in place that change that whole perspective, but it'd take forever to explain).

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Not as of yet, but we'll see what happens! If I do, it's fine by me because I loved it enough to release it and that's all that matters to me.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

I have indeed tried to write smut before. My brain apparently doesn't do that. But that was also a super long time ago when I didn't know as much about that whole subject as I probably should if I want to write it properly, so maybe I'll try again and see how it goes. Not really interested in writing it now though, with all the WIPs I have putting me so far away from that mindset.

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

I've never been super interested in crossovers. Official crossovers are cool to see, but I don't usually look beyond that. I've found a small handful of crossover fics I liked, but have never written any. I guess my brain just prefers to stay within the world I'm working with.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Nope! I hope I never do, but I'm aware it's always a possibility, unfortunately.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

No, but if anyone ever wanted to, I'd be honored.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

No, but I was once writing an original story (that I still hope to finish one day) and was telling a guy I was talking to about it. He came up with his own character to help me beef up the story background a bit, and we had a whole storyline about his character meeting the MC. We were going to determine how he fit into the main plot once I'd developed it more. Sadly, I lost inspiration for that story and fell out of touch with that guy, so that most likely won't happen. But that's the closest I've come to co-writing anything, except for a little back-and-forth with @allyheart707. That was fun!

14. What’s your all time favourite ship?

Uhhhh I'm not really into shipping? I enjoy seeing other people's ships, but I'm not majorly into the romance part of watching or reading things unless it's the main point of the story. So, if a ship isn't canon, then I'm not obsessed over it or looking for or making content for it.

On a side note, I was very happy for Lyra and Bonbon when-

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

Every. Single. One of them. There are a couple from my high school years I could care less about now, but all the others are still interests and still things I want to get finished. I have two original stories I already started writing, but got lost in the plot so I had to pause. I've got at least eight that I'm working on right now, all TMNT related except for two, and there's probably a couple more somewhere but I've lost track. But yeah I want to finish all of them. Once I can get them straight enough in my head to do so.

16. What are your writing strengths?

I think I'm pretty good with dialogue and character/world building. I tend to do a lot of go-with-the-flow with conversations, and I've been told they feel very natural. And I always know everything about who is in my story and why they are where they are and why the world or area is the way it is before I even start writing, which makes everything fall into place a lot easier.

I'm also pretty good at making small points, forgetting about them, and somehow coming up with something later on that connects perfectly with it in a way that makes it seem like that was the plan all along, even if it was done mysteriously enough the reader couldn't figure it out but the clues were all there. I really don't know how I do that, but I'm not complaining.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Plot. I'm horrible at developing a proper sequence of events or, you know, what we're even doing here. Are we fighting someone? Uh, maybe, but why? What'd they do? What are we trying to to stop them from doing? If we're not fighting someone, what world-saving quest are we going on, and what exactly are we meant to do on it? I have no clue. But everyone here is super developed and has a backstory and detailed list of powers if you need them. My go-with-the-flow attitude is a hindrance here because I can't connect everything if there's no greater picture to weave the threads through. Lighthouse is some strange outlier and I have no idea how it came together so cohesively.

I'm also not the best at describing things in a not straightforward kinda way. I can explain to you in detail how something looks and how the characters are moving and acting in the scene, but I can't do it in a fun way with analogies or flowing descriptions of emotions or any kind of whimsy to fill the scene out and immerse the reader further.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

If I specifically want the words spoken in the other language for a particular storytelling purpose, I'll do so. But only for, like, a couple words. If there needs to be longer sentences or conversation in another language, I'll clarify that that's happening and just write it in English. Unless I'm trying to make the reader feel like they're in the room but and don't know what the other characters are saying, maybe that'd work. But the couple times I've done it, it was the MC speaking in another language, so it felt more important to see it from her perspective and put it in English so the reader would understand her.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

TF2! My main character from one of my original works was originally my TF2 OC, but she ended up having such a complex story built around her that I pulled her out and gave her her own world. However, my first ever story was inspired by my uncle's book, and I believe it was meant to exist in his world. It doesn't have a fandom around it, as far as I know, but it was the first time I wrote within someone else's world. It was the first time I wrote at all, I'm pretty sure.

20. Favourite fic you’ve written?

My favorite one I've released is the 2003 Lighthouse AU, because it features my favorite turtle boys and took a lot of research to develop properly, and I love the way it came out. My favorite one I've written out of everything is the one I mentioned in 6 and 7. It's so complex and takes place at the almost end of a very long journey MC has taken to get home. So emotions are high, back stories are long, characters are tired and don't want to be here but still have to do this thing, and new bonds are created.

There's a lot that happens before the start of that story, but it's a personal work so I don't care too much for writing all that out. But it creates such a cesspool of history and emotion, all negative and positive mixed together, leading to certain character development moments I just constantly come back to and watch over and over again in my brain. And then there's the two endings that create whole separate sets of overwhelming emotions. I just can't get enough of my MC and her relationship with her alternate brother. They're perfect to me.

So it got a little wordy, whoops. I love talking about the stuff I write, and probably a little too much. And I would love to see @wendigomahana or @allyheart707 try this for themselves. Or just ignore it if you want. If anyone else happens to see this and wants to give it a shot, go for it!

#tag game #writing #thanks for the tag!#I took a hot minute to get it out...#but i enjoyed it #so thanks!

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nattikay · 1 year ago

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a fellow language nerd in the Ao3 comments expressed interest in a version with Na'vi dialogue. Now, most of the dialogue in this story was intended to actually be in English (as opposed to "auto-translated" Na'vi), since Jake has only been learning for a few months at this point and is still struggling/tends to revert to English when he can get away with it.

Buuuut the exception is the beginning conversation between Neytiri and Mo'at, which would naturally be in Na'vi. Of course, the vast majority of fic readers are not gonna be Na'vi learners so actually writing it this way in the original chapter would be very impractical, but ask and ye shall receive lol.

Also a quick small note: some of you will probably be thinking, wait, I thought "Jake" in Na'vi was "Tsyeyk"? And you are correct! Na'vi doesn't have a j sound, so the closest they can get is tsy, and a monolingual (forest) Na'vi speaker would pronounce his name like "Tsyeyk". BUT, both Neytiri and Mo'at are canonically bilingual and are able to pronounce it closer to the original English, and I wanted to represent that in the dialogue. At first I was going to do this by just spelling his name the normal English way, but that silent E at the end made case endings look awkward, so in the end I opted for the middle ground Jeyk.

That out of the way, here's that conversion, narrated in the original English but with Na'vi-only dialogue. Afterwards I've also included the direct re-translations of all the Na'vi lines back into English for my fellow language nerds who may be interested in that sort of thing (because it's slightly different than what was originally written in the normal English version).

[...] "Zene oe piveng Jeykur."

Mo'at reached out to grasp her daughter’s wrist.

“Pivey, ma 'ite," she said gently, as Neytiri settled back down curiously. “Srefwa nga pohu plltxe, zene oe mivok kemit alahe.”

“Kemit alahe srak?” Neytiri echoed.

“Srane,” said Mo'at. “Nuä seng a til kilvan lu tsong atìfnunga' utralkip. Krrnekx fwa ne tsateng sop, keng ikranfa…wum mawl trrä. Smon ngar tsatsenge? Lu sìltsana tseng fte stivarsìm pxaya mauti sì rìk. Nìsok nìtstunwi oeti tsasengne zämunge Peyralìl fa ikran sneyä fte tsakem sivi."

"F-fpìl oe tsafya. Oeng ne tsateng twsolayon fa Seze alo ahol, mawkrra slu oe ne tsakarem, kefyak?" A small thorn suddenly peirced Neytiri’s heart. Seze. Her beloved ikran companion had been killed in the battle. She knew she would have the opportunity bond with another someday, but her grief for Seze was still too fresh—she wasn’t ready.

Besides, she realized with a sudden jolt as she glanced breifly back down at her still-normal-looking belly, it would probably be quite some time before she could take on a task as risky as Iknimaya.

It was such a strange thought. Other than the small bouts of nausea, she didn’t really feel any different just yet, physically. She wondered vaguely how long it would be before her condition began to show.

Mo'at’s voice shook her from her thoughts.

"Sran, skxakep oeng tsakem sami. Kä oe nìsok a krr, tsatsengfkeyk mi lu fyole. Lìm nìtam ftu Ayvitrayä Ramunong kuma tsamìl tsat ke tsolun 'ivampi. Fpìl oel futa nga sì muntxatu ngey nivew fivrrfen tsatsenget trro ahol. Menga vrrìn fìtxan taluna tsrayti zeyko kawl; sweylu txo menga syivor nì'it. Kxawm…tsivun ngal fmawnti peng poru tsatsengmì."

Neytiri’s eyes widened and her cheeks warmed as she realized what her mother was suggesting. It was normal for newly-bonded couples to take a few days for themselves following their mating ceremony, away from the clan. She and Jake had never gotten such an opportunity, for obvious reasons.

“'e-'efu nga am'ake?” she stammered, blinking rapidly in surprise. “Mi lu pxaya tìkangkem tsrayfpi. Ke new oe txivìng olo'ti oey krra mi fol oeti kin."

Mo'at grasped her daughter’s hands in her own.

“Ngal kawtut ke txerìng, ma 'ite ayawne,” she crooned lovingly. "Nì'aw tserurokx. Lu ngay fwa mi lu pxaya tìkangkem, slä tìnvir apxa li awnga hasey soli. Ayskxir zosleru, ulte lu frapor nivi lehoan fte hivahaw sì syuve letam fte livu yehakx."

"Slä set lu olo'eyktan Jeyk,” said Neytiri. "Srake ke kin olo'ìl tìeyktanit peyä?"

"Po olo'eyktan lu…slä lu tsahìk oe." Mo'at reminded, leaning forward to place a gentle kiss on her daughter’s forehead. "Omatikayaru oe fyawìntxu pxaya zìsìto. Foti tsun oe iveyk trro ahol nì'awtu. Käteng hu ngeyä muntxatu, ma 'ite. Peng poru fmawnit azey. Eywal omum futa kin fìolo'ìl mipa tìreyti mawfwa ngä'än nìftxan! Mi tok fìtsenget ayoel krra menga tätxaw."

Neytiri felt the light sting of tears prick at her eyes as she closed the rest of the distance between herself and her mother in an embrace.

“Irayo, ma Sa'nok,” she mumbled, breath trembling ever-so-slightly.

“Kea tìkin,” Mo'at responded warmly, smiling against her daughter’s braids. For a just a moment she felt water welling up in her own eyes. “Oeti 'eykefu nitram nìtxan fula soaia oengeyä sngerä'i tsawl slivu nìmun, maw sìhan apxay.”

Neytiri let out a small shaky laugh, loose and watery, as she pulled back.

“Srane.” [...]

Re-translated lines:

Zene oe piveng Jeykur. I must tell Jake.

Pivey, ma 'ite. Srefwa nga pohu plltxe, zene oe mivok kemit alahe. Wait, daughter. Before you speak with him, I must suggest another action.

Kemit alahe srak? Another action?

Srane. Nuä seng a til kilvan lu tsong atìfnunga' utralkip. Krrnekx fwa ne tsateng sop, keng ikranfa…wum mawl trrä. Yes. Beyond the place where the river bends there is a quiet valley among the trees. To travel there takes time, even by ikran...about half a day.

Smon ngar tsatsenge? Lu sìltsana tseng fte stivarsìm pxaya mauti sì rìk. Are you familiar with that place? It is a good place to gather many fruits and leaves.

Nìsok nìtstunwi oeti tsasengne zämunge Peyralìl fa ikran sneyä fte tsakem sivi. Recently Peyral kindly brought me there on her ikran in order to do so.

F-fpìl oe tsafya. Oeng ne tsateng twsolayon fa Seze alo ahol, mawkrra slu oe ne tsakarem, kefyak? I-I think so. We flew there a few times with Seze, after I became tsakarem, right?

Sran, skxakep oeng tsakem sami. Kä oe nìsok a krr, tsatsengfkeyk mi lu fyole. Yes, we probably did that. When I went recently, the condition of that place was still sublime.

Lìm nìtam ftu Ayvitrayä Ramunong kuma tsamìl tsat ke tsolun 'ivampi. It is far away enough from the Well of Souls that the war could not touch it.

Fpìl oel futa nga sì muntxatu ngey nivew fivrrfen tsatsenget trro ahol. I think that you and your mate may want to visit that place for a few days.

Menga vrrìn fìtxan taluna tsrayti zeyko kawl; sweylu txo menga syivor nì'it. You two have been so busy because of diligently fixing the village; it's best if you relax a little.

Kxawm…tsivun ngal fmawnti peng poru tsatsengmì. Maybe...you could tell him the news there.

'e-'efu nga am'ake? Mi lu pxaya tìkangkem tsrayfpi. Ke new oe txivìng olo'ti oey krra mi fol oeti kin. A-are you sure? There is still much work for the village. I don't want to abandon my clan when they still need me.

Ngal kawtut ke txerìng, ma 'ite ayawne. Nì'aw tserurokx. Lu ngay fwa mi lu pxaya tìkangkem, slä tìnvir apxa li awnga hasey soli. You are not abandoning anyone, beloved daughter. Only resting. It is true that there is much work, but the big tasks we have already completed.

Ayskxir zosleru, ulte lu frapor nivi lehoan fte hivahaw sì syuve letam fte livu yehakx. Wounds are healing, and everyone has a comfortable bed to sleep and enough food to satisfy their hunger.

Slä set lu olo'eyktan Jeyk. Srake ke kin olo'ìl tìeyktanit peyä? But Jake is clan leader now. Does the clan not need his leadership?

Po olo'eyktan lu…slä lu tsahìk oe. Omatikayaru oe fyawìntxu pxaya zìsìto. Foti tsun oe iveyk trro ahol nì'awtu. He is clan leader....but I am tsahìk. I have been guiding the Omatikaya for many years. I can lead them alone for a few days.

Käteng hu ngeyä muntxatu, ma 'ite. Peng poru fmawnit azey. Spend time with your mate, daughter. Tell him the special news.

Eywal omum futa kin fìolo'ìl mipa tìreyti mawfwa ngä'än nìftxan! Mi tok fìtsenget ayoel krra menga tätxaw. Eywa knows that this clan needs new life after suffering so much! We will still be here when you two return.

Irayo, ma Sa'nok. Thank you, Mother.

Kea tìkin. Oeti 'eykefu nitram nìtxan fula soaia oengeyä sngerä'i tsawl slivu nìmun, maw sìhan apxay. No need [to thank]. It makes me very happy that our family is beginning to grow again, after many losses.

Srane. Yes.

It had all happened so fast.

Sitting cross-legged in the tsahìk’s freshly-woven marui, Neytiri found it difficult to believe how different her life had been hardly four months prior. Engaged to her late sister’s beloved. Struggling to fill the role of tsakarem in said sister’s place. Filled with bitterness toward the sky people who had killed her just a few years before…

She’d wanted nothing more to do with those aliens. Nothing more to do with that school. She’d known Grace Augustine since she was very young, almost as long as she could remember, and she’d always been kind, but not even Grace could protect Sylwanin from those nasty metal weapons. Not Sylwanin, not Neytep, not Anuk…

No. She’d been so angry at the sky people, at all of them, even Grace and her scientists, that she’d been ready to shoot that one clumsy dreamwalker on sight the moment she first saw him stumbling through the underbrush.

And yet…so much had happened since then.

Bringing that dreamwalker back to Hometree, at Eywa’s insistence. Her mother forcing her to become his teacher. Teaching him the ways of the Omatikaya, and those of the Na'vi more broadly…annoyed at first, but gradually softening as he actually seemed to take her instruction to heart. He’d been a quick learner, surprisingly humble, endlessly curious like a small child, and about as coordinated as one too, at first. Without even realizing it, as his understanding and abilities grew, so did her affection for him…an affection that must have been mutual, because before she knew it they were mating in the soft glow of Utraya Mokri, unabashedly sealing their bond before Eywa, commiting to each other for life. Neytiri’s face tinged the slightest purple at the memory. It certainly hadn’t come with all the bells and whistles of a normal mating ceremony, but she couldn’t bring herself to regret it.

…but then…the sky people ruined that too, the great metal claws of their crass machines ripping down the sacred trees with careless abandon. They came for Hometree soon after, decimating the village Neytiri had grown up in, and taking several lives with it. Including her father. She’d watched him die there in the rubble. Just like Sylwanin.

She’d been so angry at Jake. He had known about the impending arrival of the sky people and their fire-spitting beasts the whole time. Why hadn’t he told them? Why hadn’t he told her? But…he was a dreamwalker, after all. A sky person’s mind riding a false body. Just like Grace, who couldn’t save Sylwanin. They were all the same. They were always the same—

…yet then he returned to the clan as Toruk Makto, and in that moment Neytiri understood with startling certainty that despite any poor decisions he may have made in the past, he really was on the clan’s side now, he was ready to risk everything for them and for Pandora, and he had the endorsement of Eywa herself.

The relief was enough to make her head spin.

Then came the death of Grace, despite the clan’s valiant effort to save her. Then the great battle in the mountains. Seze’s death. Tsu'tey’s. So many other allies…the survivors saved only by Eywa’s miraculous intervention.

Killing the sky people’s olo'eyktan in his beastly metal machine. Saving Jake’s sky person body, which could not breath the natural air (and, she discovered that day, could not even walk on its own). Sending the surviving sky people back to their own world, save for a few who had sided with the Na'vi.

Recuperating the clans. Building a new village. Tending to battle wounds. Grieving the fallen.

So much had happened.

It had been barely more than four months since Neytiri first aimed her bow at that strange dreamwalker.

It had all been so fast. Like a dream.

And now…

Now…

Neytiri’s trembling fingertips traced a light, shaky pattern across her own abdomen.

A baby.

She was going to have a baby. She and her mate. Her husband, the former dreamwalker.

Maybe I’m still dreaming.

Continue reading on Ao3→

#lì'fya leNa'vi #enjoy fellow nerds #disclaimer: there may be a few errors #i am not perfect (especially with long passages) and there were two or three places where i felt a tad iffy about the grammar #but it should be mostly ok i think #i will fix any errors if and when I find them

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figofswords · 4 years ago

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what would you all do if I said I wrote a fic in [redacted fandom]. would you bully me. hypothetically

#don’t rb #what if I said I already published it anonymously on ao3 #it is. in my fashion. a character study #but with a Twist #anyway yeah I am embarrassed but you can dm me for a link if you want to read it ig you just gotta not be mean to me #but also it’s taking too long to get comments on ao3 and is rapidly getting buried so here I am mentioning it #ok now that we’re deep enough in the tags I’ll tell you. it is character!wilbur soot character study/revivebur #with ghostbur and vilbur meeting and then becoming one again #like that one comic I drew

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absurdthirst · 2 years ago

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A Family for Christmastide {Pero Tovar x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word count: 13k

Warnings: Fingering, selfishness, withdrawn consent, masturbation, oral sex (female receiving), vaginal sex, bondage, cream pie, babies, breastfeeding, oral sex (male receiving), cum swallowing

Comments: Needing shelter for the winter, a Spaniard arrives on your doorstep. You offer him warmth, food and comfort in your bed as long as he pleasures you first.

A/N: We loved the idea of Pero not being skilled in anything but being a three pump chump and learning how to give head. And we had to make it Christmasy, because you know...reasons

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

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Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

Pero grunts when he gets another “no” from an innkeeper. It’s the eve before Christmas and he is searching for somewhere to stay before the snow falls. He wants somewhere to settle down for the winter, wait it out until he can continue on his journey to sell his sword.

“Fuck.” He grunts when he is sent back out into the cold and he huffs, adjusting the satchel on his shoulder full of everything he has in the world.

“My friend, there may be an option. A woman…she has a farm. She has no husband. She may require…assistance.” He hints and Pero grunts, knowing what the man is implying but you may allow him to stay for his coins…maybe his cock if he’s lucky. He follows the man’s directions and makes his way down the path, knocking on your door.

Stirring the soup hanging in the large pot over the hearth, you straighten when you hear the knock on the door. Groaning to yourself as you set the spoon down and prepare to rebuff another ‘suitor’ now that the temperatures are falling and men are starting to idle. You hate it, how they seem determined to get you - or rather, your land. Thinking they can marry you and take what is yours since it’s unheard of for a woman to not be protected by any man. You notice your basket of wood is low and decide that once you shoo away the eligible bachelor, you will fill it up before the sun sets. “What do you want?” You demand as you open the door.

“Señora, buenas noches. I - my name is Pero Tovar-”

You huff and slam the door in his face with a “I am not interested in a husband.”

Pero frowns, knocking on the door again. “Señora-” He leans in to speak through the door, “I am not here to ask for your hand, I am here to ask for shelter. I have coins. I can assist before the snow falls. I simply ask for somewhere to stay for the winter.”

You stop short, tilting your head in surprise that he is not wanting to marry you. Turning back around, the door opens again and you watch his face relax in relief that you are willing to talk to him. The temperature is dropping rapidly and the inn must be full if he is here. Probably one of the villagers sent him. “Coins?” You ask, raising a brow. Coins would be nice, allow you to not rely on what you can grow and trap when you need costly material or if your harvests are bad. “Show me.”

Pero nods, untying the coin purse from his belt and he opens it to display the gold coins inside. “I have plenty for my keep, señora. I just need a warm place to sleep and I will be gone before the snow melts.” He promises, knowing you won’t want him hanging around.

You gauge his appearance. He’s a mercenary. A sell sword. Surprised that he did not decide to stay in a brothel, you wonder if it was too costly, you’ve heard some men grumble they are charging too much for a tumble. His armor is dirty, matching his hair and his unsightly beard, but he’s tall, broad. You bite your lip and open your door wider. “Come inside and we will talk, but I make no promises.”

Tovar nods once, knowing he is at your mercy but he’s not prepared to beg. He wipes off his boots as he walks inside your humble cottage, the fire immediately warming him and he groans at the smell of the soup you are cooking. It’s heaven and you know it judging by your swaying hips. You’re beautiful, undeniably so, but he will respect you and your home. This is not a brothel.

You turn, watching him assess your house. It’s not a greedy gaze as he looks over everything you have, so you feel better about letting him in your home. “Where are you from Pero Tovar?” You ask, gesturing for him to sit down. Before he can answer, there is another knock on the door, this one much more demanding and you groan as you hear your name called out. It’s Jacob, the stable master. He wants your lands and you, something you are less than keen to give him. “Fuck.” You hiss, rushing to the door and opening it to the tall, lanky man. “No, I will not marry you.” You greet him with the same answer you have given him everyday he has come pounding on your door.”

Pero watches you slam the door in the man’s face and he can’t help but chuckle at your feisty nature. You huff, turning back towards Pero, “now, where were we?”

He shifts from one foot to the other, “we were discussing my staying here in exchange for coins.” He reminds you, curious about the reason why you slammed the door in the suitor’s face.

“Yes.” You nod and start walking back towards your soup. You know a hungry man when you see one and he’s practically drooling at the scent of the food. “Two of your gold coins.” You decide, reaching for a bowl and your spoon to start ladling it up. “As long as you don’t mind swinging an axe for fire wood or bringing some fresh meat to cook.” You fill the bowl to the brim and turn around to set it on the table and arch a brow at him. “Nights between my tights included.”

Pero is pleased at the first part until you finish your terms and he’s choking on his own spit. “Ex-excuse me señora, did you - I don’t - my coins are for your home, not for - not for that.” He flusters, knowing he wouldn’t take advantage of you when you are kindly offering to let him stay in your home and you aren’t married or a whore.

You hum, expecting the mercenary to jump at the chance to have a hot cunt. You shrug slightly. “Fine, if you don’t wish to bury your cock in a hot cunt, that is your own business.” You tell him bluntly, finding men prefer plainly speaking amongst themselves but are always shocked when a woman does it. “However, when you leave, I will tell the villagers that we married. Prevent the offers or demands or marriage everyday. You seem dangerous enough they will think twice about doubting it.”

Tovar rubs his hands on his leathers, shocked at how forward and blunt you are for a woman. “You wish to be married to me?” He frowns, confused by you. You don’t want to be married but you want sex and yet you want to be married to him. “Please explain, señora. I- I don’t not understand.” He swallows, looking down at the soup you placed in front of him. It smells delicious but he won’t eat until you explain.

“The men- they keep prodding me to marry them and I have no desire for it.” You move over to the bread and pick up the rest of the loaf you had baked two days ago to set it down on a plate in front of him as well. “They don’t want me- or just me. They want the land, they want to control what I have.” You roll your eyes and huff. “I am no maiden and I like sex. It feels good and I enjoy pleasure. So saying you are my husband will keep them from chasing me and while you are here, we can feel good together. When the snows melt, you can go on your way and continue to sell your sword.”

Shocked at your proposal, Pero stares at you, “you want to - you want me to stay and keep your heath burning and your cunt filled before I depart and you tell your villagers that I am your husband?” He asks and you nod, shrugging, “do you have a problem with that?” He shakes his head, “not at all. I am happy to serve.” He smiles, pleased at his luck. “I am yours for the winter, señora.” He winks, picking up the piece of bread and he digs in.

You get immense pleasure from the groans that he makes as he shovels food into his mouth. He’s a sloppy eater, but you account that to his lifestyle. There must be times where he feels like he must bolt his food down, so you turn and fill up your own bowl with soup and set it down across from him. “There is plenty more.” You assure him as he tears another hunk off the bread. “I will be baking more bread in the morning.”

“Señora-” Pero groans, “you are heaven sent.” He declares as he takes another bite of the bread before he shovels more soup into his mouth. He’s starving and he is enjoying this meal. He will eagerly give you his cock in exchange for more meals like this. It’s been so long since he had a home cooked meal that wasn’t in a tavern. “Why do you not wish to marry?” He asks, his own opinion being that every woman wanted to marry.

“Why would I?” You scoff slightly. “I marry and everything I have becomes his. In the eyes of the Church he could leave me in rags and beat me while he whores his days away at the brothels and there is nothing I can do.” You shake your head. “I do not wish to marry until a man comes along who can think of nothing but me.”

Tovar stares at you, your features are beautiful, especially in the moonlight, and he hums in agreement. “Men are incapable of keeping their cocks dry while away from their wife. It’s physically impossible.” He has no illusions of grandeur about being faithful to one’s wife but he also has a moral code. “That’s why I will not marry. I do not wish to see the disappointment on my wife’s face when she discovers I have been with another. I sell my sword. I travel. I cannot afford a wife, a home, a family. I am surviving and I will be punished in hell if I dragged an innocent woman into my life when she had expectations of me.”

“At least you are honest about it” You start to eat your food and look him over. Unable to really tell his features underneath all the hair, you want to offer him a bath but it is too late for that tonight. “However, I do not have to take a husband, so I will not.”

“I understand, señora. I will be your imaginary husband upon my departure.” He winks at you and you chuckle, tearing off another piece of bread.

“It’s a deal. You may stay until the snow melts.”

Tovar grins, pleased to hear he has a home for the winter, “if possible…tomorrow…I would like to bathe.”

“I will insist on it.” Thank God he is not the type to have a superstition about cleanliness. “Tonight I will pour a pitcher of water for you to clean up briefly and I will see how your tongue feels against my cunt before you fuck me.”

Pero shakes his head, “señora…I do not sample the cunt I am about to fuck. If you wish to have my cock, you shall have it but my tongue will remain my own.” He never licked the cunt of the whores he bought for the night and he shan’t start now.

Instead of frowning, you shrug. “Then I do not want your cock.” You tell him bluntly. “Most men last but a few moments and leave their women unsatisfied. I am not a woman you paid for pleasure, so none you shall have.” You tell him, spooning another mouthful of the soup into your mouth. Are you disappointed? Surely, but you are not going to play the whore and get nothing for yourself.

Pero sighs, “señora…I am unskilled in what you are asking. A man like me…I am not practiced in oral skills. It’s not what I’ve paid for. My first woman was a whore, she let me fuck her for thirty seconds and then she taught me how to control myself. I never tasted her cunt.” He confesses, knowing you won’t want him if he is unskilled.

“Do you think a woman is skilled the first time she takes a cock in her mouth or cunt?” You ask, amused by his confession. Sex is sloppy and can be fun, if you let it be. Enjoyable and addicting with the right person. “No matter, if you wish to not learn, that is your choice.”

Pero bites his lip, considering your words, and he sighs, “I would like to learn.” He admits, “if you will have me.” He tells you, knowing it will be a long winter with just his fist when you are a beautiful woman offering him a warm bed and a warm cunt. Oral is hardly a deal breaker for him, he’s just unskilled.

“I will not push you to do anything you do not want.” You hum, but he shakes his head. It would be good for you to teach him something new. He could be very popular in the brothels. “However, if you use your mouth, you might find yourself not paying as much as your companions for a cunt each night.” You add, smirking slightly.

Pero nods, “that is true, hermosa.” He calls you beautiful because you are and his cock twitches at your smirk. “I will - I will earn my keep.” He promises with his own smirk before he picks up his bowl and slurps down the remainder of the broth.

The rest of the meal passes quickly, you get up and pour another bowl of soup for Pero. Setting down in front of him with a smile before you finish your own bowl. “You have a horse, I assume?” You ask, wanting to make sure the horse is taken care of. “I have room in the barn with the goat and chickens.”

“Sí Señora, I have a horse. I will place him in your stable before bedtime. You are a very good cook.” He compliments you, smiling before he digs into the next bowl. It’s been so long since he’s had a good meal and you are looking like an angel sent from heaven for him.

“Thank you.” You smile as you watch him for another moment. “I grow all the vegetables and herbs and the meat is one of my older hens.”

Pero hums, continuing to eat. When he’s finished, you take his bowl and he makes his way outside to handle his horse, ensuring the stallion is secure in the stable with feed. He comes back in with a shiver from the incoming storm to find you warming water for him.

“Tomorrow we will bring in more water for a proper bath but I know you wouldn’t want to bathe off in cold water.” You know you hate it and avoid it when possible unless the temperature is sweltering. “After you bathe, I can wash and mend any clothes that need repairing.” Once the snow blows in, you will need to find things to keep your mind and hands occupied. Most of your sewing happened during the winter months.

“Gracias señora.” He tells you with a soft smile, grateful to you for allowing him to be here and have this shelter during the harsh months ahead. Even if he has to pleasure you, it won’t be a hardship considering how beautiful you are. He strips off, uncaring of you seeing him since you will see him naked anyway.

You hum to yourself as you gather a crock of soap and rags for washing. He is broad, just like you expected. A hint of softness that you preferred over sinew and the scars that are scattered over his body speak to a harsh life lead spent in battles. You will clean up yourself but give him privacy to give himself a good scrubbing where necessary.

He can feel your eyes on him as he strips down, making him smirk before he grabs the rag, soaking it in the warm water as he scrubs off weeks of dirt from his skin. He groans at the feeling of freshness and wets the rag again, washing his cock and balls to ensure you would want to touch him. When he’s finished cleaning himself off, he walks into your bedroom to find you with a gown wrapped around you. “I’m clean, hermosa.”

You turn and look him over. “I see that you are.” You bite your lip as you take in the sight of his flaccid cock and watch him start to stir to life. Unwrapping the gown from your body, you toss it across a trunk to reveal that you are as nude as he is. Your own cleaning had been quicker, since it is a part of your nightly routine before bed and when you rise in the mornings. “I take it you are ready for your first lesson?”

Pero’s dark eyes trail along your body, biting his lip as he looks at you, admiring your breasts down to the curls between your legs. “Yes, señora.” His cock starts to harden at seeing you smirk and you pat the bed beside you. He shifts from one foot to the other before he confidently strides over to you, a smirk on his face as he hovers over you, leaning down to press his lips to yours, his tongue immediately sliding into your mouth.

You shudder slightly, the hair from his beard tickling your skin but you don’t mind it. Tomorrow you will ask if he wants a trim and a shave. His tongue is insistent, making you think that it will feel good against your cunt. Reaching down, you wrap your hand around his hardening cock and squeeze him gently, making him groan into your mouth before you fondle his balls and feel how heavy they are.

Pero groans as you fondle him, his cock twitching and he reaches for your tit, squeezing it and pinching the nipple. “Hermosa.” He groans against your jaw while you continue to fondle him. He reaches for your waist, lifting you up onto the bed in the middle so he can spread your thighs. His cock is now hard and he grips it as he positions himself between your thighs.

“Wait.” Your thighs close and you are pushing him back and shaking your head. “I am not taking that cock until I’m ready.” You remind him. “I’m not a whore you’ve paid for a fuck.” You reach for his hand and guide it to the curls covering your sex. “Have you fingered a woman before?”

He huffs, “señora, I don’t - I want be inside of you.” He is impatient. It’s been a long time since he was inside of a hot cunt and he is eager to cum after so many months of his fist.

You nearly roll your eyes but manage to stop yourself. Deciding that flattery would be better to sue on this Spaniard rather than sarcasm. “I know you do, but your cock would hurt if I’m not ready.” You coo, biting your lip. “You have a large cock and it has been some time since I have taken a man.”

Pero smirks at hearing he has a large cock. He concedes, trailing his hand along your thigh until he fingers your folds and he rubs your clit, knowing it’s pleasurable for women. His movements are awkward, unrehearsed since he is uneducated in female pleasure.

The man rubs your clit for nearly fifteen seconds before he is plunging two fingers into your cunt hard enough to make you gasp. It’s a frantic few pumps of his fingers, barely allowing your walls to stretch out to take them easier before he is pulling them free, shifting to his knees and grabbing his cock again. “No-” You shake your head, disappointed that he didn’t listen to what you wanted and is being selfish. “You can- this is not going to happen tonight obviously. You can take care of your pleasure because I will be taking care of mine.” You scoff as you move away from him and kick at his hip with your foot, pushing him away from you.

Pero huffs in frustration but respects your decision. He shifts off of the bed, his cock now aching, and he walks over to the cot you set up for him in the corner of the room. Sitting down on it, he wraps his fingers around his cock, squeezing once before letting go. “I’m sorry señora. I am not - I am not trained for this.” He apologizes, knowing he should’ve let you lead.

You huff, annoyed and you shut your eyes. “Just fist your cock, Pero Tovar.” You tell him as you slide your own hand between your thighs, rubbing your clit and whimpering quietly when you find the perfect spot. “Tomorrow- we will- we will try to see if you- can listen.” You moan breathlessly, aware that you are pleasuring yourself while he is still awake as punishment for not being patient.

Pero watches you, ashamed of his behavior as he starts to jerk his cock. Your cunt is glistening and he actually wants to taste you but that will have to wait until tomorrow. He grunts as he jerks his cock, groaning your name as he works himself towards his orgasm.

Your thighs shift and you hum as your hips start to roll up to meet your hand. "I could have- have stroked your cock while you did this." You pant out as you work your clit with your fingers. "Or when you licked my cunt- I could have- could have taken you in my mouth." You moan softly, feeling your folds get wetter.

“Mierda.” Pero curses himself for being so stupid and giving that up. He makes a promise to himself that he will learn how to pleasure you. He knows you’re a woman of your word and you will pleasure him. He simply has to give to you before you give to him. “Yo quiero - I want to learn, señora. Tomorrow - show - show me how to pleasure you.” He pleads, tightening his grip on his cock after he spits into his palm.

“You- you spit into your hand, to make it slicker.” You groan, “it is the same for when you pleasure a woman. Makes- makes it slick, wet. It hurts when you jerk your cock dry, does it- it not?” You ask, hoping to make him realize why it is important. “Im-imagine that pain inside you.”

Tovar winces at the thought, understanding why you need to be prepared. “The - the whores I’ve fucked were already wet. I did not need to prepare them.” He explains, “you are not a whore, I promise…I will prepare you. However you require.” He vows, his dark eyes fixed on your cunt while you rub your clit.

“Good.” You open your eyes, looking down and finding him watching you. His hard cock is flushed and leaking, nearly purple as he pumps it in his fist. “We will- will spend many hours in bed this winter I think.” You predict, mouth opening and crying out in pleasure just a moment later.

Pero hisses at your cry of pleasure, your thighs shaking and he hisses in response to the beautiful sound. “Fuck, hermosa.” He pumps his cock a few more times before he is spilling his seed onto the wooden floorboards and his fists.

You whine as you drag out your orgasm, chest heaving as your hips buck up. Watching the pearlescent cum spill over on his fingers in long spurts. Your fingers slow down and your hips shuffle back down to the bed as you pant. “Hmmmmm.” You sigh lazily as you pull your fingers from your cunt and lick them clean, used to your own taste.

“Fuck.” Tovar groans as he works himself through his orgasm while you lick your fingers. He wants to bury his face in your cunt and taste for himself but he ruined his chance tonight. He has to make peace with that and accept his punishment. “Tomorrow.” He vows, finally releasing his cock and his hand is sticky from his seed.

Climbing off the bed, you pull your shift over your head and pull on your slippers before you grab some extra rags to set near the washbowl. “For you to clean up.” You murmur softly, striding past him to put the bar on the door and to have another dipper of water from the pail before you bank the fire.

After working on cleaning himself up, Tovar cleans the floorboards and tosses the dirty rags in the corner with the others. He grabs his nightshirt and pulls it on, watching as you get into your bed and he follows suit on the cot in the corner. “Buenas noches, señora. Thank you for - for letting me stay.” He tells you before you nod, blowing out the candle by your bedside.

“Good night, Pero.” You murmur in response, wondering what he will look like under the mountain of hair he sports. “Tomorrow is a new day.” You hum in the darkness, quickly falling asleep after your orgasm.

****

When the sun shines into his eyes, Pero wakes with a groan. The cot is the nicest place he’s slept for months and he’s reluctant to get up but he also needs to earn his keep. After dressing, he finds you in the main living area at the fire. “Good morning hermosa, can I help?” He asks, knowing that today is a new day and he will make sure you are satisfied with him…in every way.

You look up from adding wood to the fire and smile. “Good morning.” You offer, standing and moving to the table where the bread you have kneaded is rising. “If you don’t mind checking the animals. I will drag the tub in and we can fill it.” The heavy wooden tube is leaning against the side of the house where you store it. It’s easier than trying to lift it onto the hook where your father had hung it. “I’ll chop wood while the bread bakes and the water heats up.” The leftover soup from last night and a bit of cheese is what’s for breakfast this morning.

Pero nods, “sí, señora.” Knowing better than to argue with you, he makes his way out to the table and he takes a seat, smiling at you as he picks up some cheese. “Would you like me to chop the wood?” He asks, wanting to help you however he can.

You smile and nod. “That would be most helpful.” You admit with a pleased look on your face as you slide the bread into the flat alcove of the hearth to bake . Turning, you sit down to your own bowl of soup sitting on the table. “Then it will just be getting the bath water warm and starting our meal to simmer all day.” You tilt your head to the side and watch him. “Did you sleep well?”

“I did.” You are surprised at his manners. He eats fast and hunched over his bowl but you had expected conversations consisting of grunts and huff words. It was rare to find a man who asked about more than his next meal or getting his cock wet. “I am glad you enjoyed the cot I set up. I was afraid your feet would hang off it.”

Chuckling, Pero sets the bowl down, “I was comfortable. Much more comfortable than the ground. And it’s warm. It’s more than a man like me could need.” He promises, breaking off some cheese. “We have much to do today señora, I shall get started.” He stands up after draining the bowl, and he makes his way outside to begin the chores you assigned him.

The snow has not fallen yet but there is the scent of it in the air. Humming as you go about your chores, it’s nice to have someone help, not leaving it all on your shoulders. Dragging the tub in while Pero is in the barn dealing with the livestock, you are lucky that a well was dug on your farm, your relatives making it convenient many years ago - especially since it is now just you. Gathering your buckets, you start drawing buckets of water to warm, also filling the barrel next to the door that is kept for easy access.

Pero feeds the livestock, ensuring the barn is secure and makes a few repairs before he heads back towards the cottage to cut wood. He gathers the logs first and sets them in a pile then he begins to chop, grunting and cursing when a log is being particularly difficult.

There is something to be said for watching a man work. His leathers are the first thing that come off, making you bite your lip at the broadness of his shoulders again. Picturing the sight that you had last night of him nude as the loaves of bread cool and you chop vegetables for the meat and vegetable pies you are planning for dinner tonight. He will probably eat an entire one himself. The buckets of water boil and you start to fill up the tub. It will take half the day, but it will still be hot by the time he gets done.

Pero wipes his brow after he places the logs on top of the other, stacking them until there is plenty. It’s hard work but he’s not unfamiliar with it, having done this as a young man for his parents before they passed and he left to sell his sword. He inhales deeply, the cool air hitting his cheeks and he looks back towards the cottage. You are a confusing woman, not wanting a husband to protect you, to breed you, but he understands. He is not conventional, he doesn’t want a wife, a child. He wants coins. A ruthless life perhaps but at least he’s honest with himself. After cleaning up the axe, he makes his way back into the house.

The Spaniard comes back inside just as you are pinching the crusts of the pies closed, also making some fruit pies for dessert. Those are already baking over the fire and you smile as you dust your floured hands off on your apron. “The water is almost ready.” You hustle over to take another large cauldron of steaming water and pour it into the large tub followed by another bucket of cooler water into the cauldron to heat. “Thank you. You are much faster at chopping wood than I am.”

Pero smiles, pleased you are happy with his performance and he watches you fill the tub. “Señora…would you mind cutting my hair?” He asks, knowing his locks are down to his shoulders and it’s too much. He needs it cut off so he can clean up properly.

Nodding, you pick up the shears you use to cut fabric from your sewing basket and motion towards him. “If you wish, I can cut your beard down as well.”

“Please, señora.” He nods and he sits down at the kitchen table, eager to get the scruff of his face and head. When you step closer, he inhales the scent of you and his cock twitches in his breeches, leathers discarded at the door from how overheated he was. He watches you as you start to trim his hair, unconcerned about the shears in your hand.

You run your fingers through his hair, chopping off great hunks of it so you can get the bulk off. You will go back and trim to clean it up. Furrowing your brow as his face starts to emerge from the curtain of hair, you find that he’s handsome and his mouth is almost delicate. “Hmmm.”

“Feels a lot better already.” He confesses, closing his eyes as you work on chopping off the matted locks he accumulated from months of traveling. “You are very kind. I’m surprised you haven’t been taken advantage of.” He confesses, looking up at you.

“Some have tried.” You admit, giving a small shrug of your shoulders. “They came to regret it before they took their last breaths.” They had failed to realize that your parents raised you to be tough, to be able to protect yourself. It was their mistake.

Unable to stop himself, Pero smirks at your ballsy nature, the fighter is apparent and he admires it. Far too many women rely on a man to protect them but you are strong willed and feisty. He likes that. “Poor bastards.” He chuckles, admiring you.

“Indeed.” You smirk slightly before you start to trim up the hair more neatly. “I will let you decide what to do with your face.” You tell him. “But the hair will be easier to manage.”

Pero hums, “it feels better already. Thank you, hermosa.” He tells you with a soft smile and he squeezes your free hand. “Do you have a blade?” He asks, wanting to shave while he’s at it before he gets into the tub.

“I do.” You step over to the table and reach for the clean dagger that you had laying there. It’s sharp, sharp enough to cut a man’s throat if he is not careful. Flipping it over, you catch the blade in your hand and extend it to him, handle first.

Pero thanks you and begins to cut off the masses of beard that had grown during his time without a blade. He grunts, working it down until he can use the tip of the blade to work the smaller hair off of his cheeks. When he’s finished, he looks over at you and tilts his head, “how does it look?”

“Good.” He is attractive. His jaw is strong and sharp, fitting with the nose that hooks slightly. The scar over his left eye doesn’t detract from his appearance, instead adds to the image of a dangerous, powerful man. “If you were in a brothel, the women would be fighting over who gets to fuck you.”

He can’t help but blush, unused to such compliments, especially from a beautiful woman, and it enforces his decision to please you later. He smiles, “I’d like to think you might consider fighting over me.” He murmurs, coy despite his hardened demeanor.

“Hmmm, your cock is thick and girthy.” You hum, your hips swaying slightly as you have grabbed your broom and start sweeping away the hair to clean up. “Undress and get in the tub.” You order him. “Relax and scrub your body. There is more water heating to rinse off and I will pour more in if you need.”

He quickly strips off, leaving his clothes on the chair he sat on. With a groan, Pero sinks into the tub of hot water, leaning back against the wood and he relaxes for the first time in months. He closes his eyes, just savoring the warmth while you sweep up around him.

Smirking to yourself, you watch as the mercenary named Pero Tovar visibly melts in the bath tub. His arms are braced around the edges of the tub and his head rolled back, exposing his throat. You wonder when the man has really let go and unwound like he is doing now. Setting the broom in the corner, you move over to the jug of mead you have open and pour out a cup. Heaven knows you enjoy having a cup when you are soaking in your own bath.

When you prod him and offer him the mug, he groans in appreciation and thanks you before he takes a sip. “Eres un ángel.” He murmurs, relaxing even more and he’s in no rush to get out of the tub. He soaks for an hour, until his skin is prune-like, then he finally washes with the bar of soap you gave him.

The fruit pies are cooling on the table and you are pulling your own extra shift out to wash, the bucket for your clothes already filled will warm water and you dump the things that Pero had been wearing into it with a generous heap of your lye soap for laundry. It wasn’t like the soap you made for washing yourself with herbs and flowers mixed in, although his clothes would smell better than they currently do.

Pero watches you as you bend over, scrubbing his clothes, and he decides that he will give you pleasure tonight...however you want it. He smiles, finishing up his washing up before he stands, water dripping off of his body. "Do you have rags to dry off, hermosa?"

“I do.” Turning, you stare for a moment as the rivers of water cascade down his body. “I- I’ll get them for you.” You stand and hurry over to your truck, shaking your head at forgetting to get them for him earlier. “Here.”

He takes them, drying himself off and his cock twitches as he watches you bending over to wash the clothes. "Hermosa." He shifts to hover over you, not imposing, just there. When you look up, he hopes you see the lust in his eyes, "let me - I want to taste you."

You are surprised that he is being so open about wanting to try and you smirk in approval. “I am surprised that you don’t want to eat food before you eat cunt.” You hum teasingly. “Are you sure you want to learn before it is dark outside?”

Pero nods, “I am eager to learn señora. We have many nights ahead of us with winter and I wish to know what makes you moan, I want to know your taste so we might prepare ourselves for being trapped in the cottage. I do not wish to be selfish. Show me.” He asks, reaching for your hand.

“Very charming answer.” You joke with a small smile. Nodding, you motion towards the bed. “Go wait, I must wash as well.” You will not have him eat unwashed cunt, especially since it is his first time. While you are moderately clean, it would not hurt to wash.

Pero nods, making his way over to your cot and he sits down to wait for you to wash up. He is still naked, uncaring of his nudity as he patiently awaits your return from the tub. He knows what to do, the mechanics of it, but he’s never really experienced it first hand, always rushing to seek his own pleasure.

You don’t hurry, knowing that he will wait for as long as he needs to in order to be able to touch you. Using a clean rag, you wash every inch of your skin and make sure you wash your cunt. You want this to be a good experience for him. Drying off and foregoing getting dressed again, confidently moving about your home with no care for your nudity. During the summer, you often spent all night without clothes on.

Tovar looks up when you walk into the bedroom area of your cottage, his breath hitching at how utterly beautiful you are. His cock starts to harden but he ignores his arousal in favor of satisfying you. “Tell me what you desire, hermosa.” He demands, voice already raspy with lust.

You smile and step closer, making Pero’s thighs spread for you to stand between them. “First, I want to kiss you.” You murmur, leaning in and finding the lack of excess hair vastly pleasing compared to the kisses last night. “Then, I want you to suck on my breasts.”

Pero obeys with a nod, keeping his arms to his sides as he kisses you back, trying to keep his tongue less frantic than last night and just savor the feel of you in between his legs. His fingers twitch when your tongue tangles with his, languid and so very erotic compared to his selfish pecks while he’s undoing his breeches.

Your fingers tangle into his freshly washed and cut hair, making him groan into your mouth when you tug on it. His arms don’t come around you, so you let go of his hair and take his hands and place them on your tits before you sink your fingers into the curly strands again.

He eagerly squeezes your tits, groaning your name as you pull back for a moment until you press your lips to his again. He moans eagerly, squeezing the flesh until his fingers pinch each nipple, delighting in the gasp you push into his mouth which is soon leaving yours to trail kisses along your neck and down to your check. He takes one nipple into his mouth, sucking harshly, maybe a little too hard, but he’s eager to please.

You hiss slightly, tugging on his hair but you don’t stop him. Loving how his tongue rolls around your nipple, you imagine his tongue on your cunt.” “Fuck.” You moan when he pinches your nipple as he sucks on the other. “More”

He follows your orders, switching over to the other breast and he pinches the one he was sucking on, letting his teeth sink in for a moment before he soothes it with his tongue. His cock is hardening, now aching with need for you but he can’t be selfish, he owes you for letting him stay in your home.

“Yes.” You gasp, stomach clenching at the nip of his teeth. Your folds are already dampening but you are eager to feel his tongue. “Stop.” You insist quietly. “I want to lay down and have you eat my cunt.”

He groans, reluctantly pulls away from your breast and he leans back to look up at you, mouth glistening with his saliva, and he watches you as you make your way around the bed to lay down. He spins, kneeling on the bed and he groans when you spread your legs. “Tell me what you want.”

You aren’t shy about pulling your folds apart and exposing your engorged clit. “Here is where I find the most pleasure.” You tell him, circling it with your index finger. “I want you to lick it, suck in it, but don’t bite. You don’t like teeth on your cock, do you?”

He shakes his head, shifting to lay down on his stomach, and he looks up at you for a moment until he shifts closer, tentatively flicking his tongue over your bundle of nerves. Your answering moan spurs him on and he flicks his tongue over your clit again and again.

Again, your hands are in his hair, guiding you where you want him. He’s inexperienced, just like he had admitted to being, but the raw enthusiasm has your hips bucking up and your panted gasps turning into moans.

Following your orders, he sucks on your clit, his tongue then sliding down to circle your entrance and he hums at your tangy arousal, his hard cock pressed into the mattress. He grinds into it but knows he has to make you cum, he wants to make you cum. He slides his tongue up to suck on your clit, pursing his lips around the sensitive nerves.

“Oh fuck,” you whine, eyes closing in pleasure and your finger grip his hair tighter. “I- once we fuck, you can- the next time I’ll suck your cock while you do this.” You promise, imagining his moans into your cunt while your mouth is around him.

Now that makes Pero fucking ache to be inside of you, the thought of his face in your cunt while you suck his cock. He fucking loves that idea and tells you that without removing his mouth. Groaning into your folds, he continues licking and sucking, listening to your moans as he figures out what you like.

A shudder runs up your spine while Pero learns your cunt. The tell-tale sign of your body priming itself to come apart. You’re vocal, moaning and writhing under his hands as they grip your hips while you shamelessly roll your cunt against his mouth. “Pero- oh God, you- your mouth is- oh fuck!” You gasp, nearly choking on your breath when he sucks on your clit again and sends you over the edge and your entire body stiffens while your cunt pulses and soaks itself.

He grunts into your mouth, swearing that hearing you fall apart is going to make him spill his seed onto your sheets but he manages to hold back, working you through your orgasm with harsh sucks. It becomes too much and you have to shove his head away but he still licks your hole to sample your cum. “Did you enjoy that, hermosa?” He asks, wanting to make sure he did that right.

“Yes.” You pants, closing your eyes and smiling up at the beams above your head lazily. “Feel how wet I am? You will feel so good sliding into my cunt now.”

“I can-?” He doesn’t want to push you as he shifts to kneel on the bed. His cock is hard, leaking, and almost purple at the head from how aroused he is. “Hermosa…how do you want me to fuck you?” He asks, letting you lead again.

Reaching down, you wrap your hand around his cock and the man in front of your growls. His hips buck forward and you give him a good, rough squeeze. “My legs on your hips. I want to see your face when you cum for the first time inside me.”

“Fuck. Do you- I need to pull out?” He assumes, knowing you wouldn’t want a child unless you have the same herbs the brothels provide their workers. He shifts closer, cock twitching in your grip.

“I have a brew that I make.” You promise him, knowing that you will start stepping pots of the herbs to prevent a child. “You do not have to spill your seed on my belly unless you wish to.”

“I want to. Just in case. I don’t want to leave you with child.” He murmurs, caressing your thigh as his dark eyes meet yours. He shuffles closer, batting your hand from his cock and he swipes the exposed head through your folds, making you squirm, and he chuckles before his groan escapes his lips as he starts to push inside of you.

Even as slick as you are, he is thick inside you. Making your walls yield to his stiff length as he breaks you open. Leaning forward, his arms brace on either side of your body as he slides into you, moving down to his elbows and stilling when his cock is pushed in as far as he can go. “Fuck.” You pant breathlessly.

“Fuck.” He echoes. Your cunt is so tight around him, it takes his breath away, and he groans when your walls flutter while they try to adjust to his girth. This is much better than last night with his fist, your slick cunt gripping him and it’s easier when he pulls his hips back then pushes back into you.

You know he is not going to last past a dozen thrusts. He has been used to nothing but his fist and before that it was whores in brothels who didn’t mind him finishing quickly. It was another reason why you insisted on pleasure before he fucked you. That way you were not left wanting and unsatisfied. “Fuck me.” You pant. “I want to see how you fuck.”

Your cunt is heaven, he knows that now, so when you tell him to fuck you, he clenches his jaw and rocks deep into you, grunting as he works his cock into you with deep, hard thrusts that push you up the cot.

Every thrust pushes a moan out of you. When he has some control, you will enjoy the heavy, frantic pace that he beats himself into your cunt. Now your legs just loosely wrap around his hips and you let him use you, deliberately clenching your walls around him.

Pero pants when you grip him, “mierda. Hermosa. Lo- lo siento.” He growls out just before he thrusts deep into you, moaning your name before he forces himself to pull out in time. Wrapping his fingers around his cock, he pumps himself while his hot seed hits your belly and spurts onto your tits.

You watch him, fascinated with the way he hisses and his jaw clenched as he cums. His eyes fluctuate between fluttering closed and watching his seed paint your skin. Your hand moved when he pulled back, caressing his thigh as his body tenses and flexes as he cums.

Pero grunts as he works himself through his orgasm until his hand falls away from his cock, his chest heaving from the pleasure as his dark eyes focus on you. “Hermosa. Covered in my seed. So beautiful.” He compliments you, smiling at you with glassy, pleasured eyes.

“It is a good thing we have warm water.” You chuckle, amazed at much of his seed he had covered you with. It had to be more than he had spurted out last night when he had jerked off. “How are you feeling? Was it worth licking my cunt?”

With his own chuckle, pero nods and lays down beside you. “Definitely worth that, hermosa.” He promises, “I will lick your cunt every day if you allow me the pleasure of being inside you. You are - it’s incredible.” He tells you with a blissed out sigh.

You smirk, happy that you could change the mind of the mercenary. He hadn’t lasted long, but once he was used to fucking you, he was going to become a good lover. “Rest.” You command, leaning over and pressing your lips to his. “When your cock recovers, I want it inside me again while dinner bakes.”

Pero smirks, “insatiable.” He isn’t angry about that, glad to help you since you have given him a place to stay. He kisses you one last time before he settles back against your pillows, groaning at the way his entire body hums with relaxation.

You climb out of the bed and walk over to the tub so you can clean up. Wetting a rag and scrubbing the cum from your body as you look over to find him resting easy on your bed with his hands folded behind your pillows. He looks relaxed which you are glad for. “Do you hunt, Pero? Can I call you Pero or do you prefer to go by Tovar?”

“I respond to either one, señora.” He replies but can admit to himself that hearing you say his given name makes his stomach twist. “Pero. I want you to call me Pero.” He decides, smiling at you as you clean yourself up.

“Pero it is.” You decide as you finish cleaning yourself and put your shift on so you can finish the washing. “So, if you wish to hunt, I would be grateful.”

“I can hunt. Perhaps we can dry some meat for the winter? I can go out tomorrow and see what I can find before the snow falls.” He offers, closing his eyes as you finish washing the clothes and he briefly imagines a life like this, spent in your bed and by the fire. Tending to the land and not worrying about dying from a stab wound. He indulges until he remembers how much he desires coin, how much he wants to provide for himself.

“That will be good. I have some small game and some dried fish but I finished the last of the venison a week ago.” You string the clothes across a line in front of the fire to dry. “I can make the skin into some warm leathers for you.” You have plenty of your own warm skins from previous animals and it would be something he could take with him when he leaves.

Pero smiles at how considerate you are, more generous than most he has met during his travels. “Gracias señora. I - you are so kind. I shall have to repay you with many many nights between your thighs.”

You smirk slightly, amused at the cocky nature of his comment. You have no doubt that he will be bragging by the time the winter is over and you develop his skills beyond quick fumbles. “I have a suspicion that this winter will be very pleasurable indeed.”

****

The snow is falling outside of the cottage, the fire burning to keep the cold at bay but it doesn’t matter when Pero has your entire body on fire from his skilled tongue. After the disaster of the first night, Pero made a vow to himself to learn what you like and he’s a quick learner. “Oh fuck!” You curse and he loves that, cock hard and aching but his tongue pushes you onto your third orgasm of the night from his fingers and tongue.

“P-Pero.” Your hoarse cry is loud and needy, almost whining as you pull against the cloths that have you lashed to the bed so you cannot touch him. It’s thrilling and infuriating, being unable to take what you want from him, to drive him crazy so he fills you with his cock like you need. Your thighs shake around his ears and your eyes desperately meet his smug brown orbs as he devours you again. “Pero!”

The Spaniard growls into your flesh, working his tongue deep inside of your cunt as your thighs shake against his ears. He loves how in control he is, completely owning your pleasure and when or if you cum. It’s intoxicating and has his cock leaking pre-cum onto the sheets. “Cum for me.” He orders, smacking his lips for a moment then he dives in to suck hard on your clit.

He rips a scream out of you as your entire body bucks and bows under the pressure of his mouth. Stars burst behind your eyes and nearly black out your vision while your cunt clamps down around the two fingers that are curled up inside you.

Pleased with himself for making you cum so hard, Pero works you through it until he is pulling back with a smug smirk. “Did you enjoy that, hermosa?” He asks you with a chuckle at your dazed expression.

“Fuck me.” You beg, tightening your thighs around him and pulling on the ties to the bed. “Pero, please, I need- I need your cock inside me. Please.” You whimper, chest heaving.

He nods, “okay, hermosa. Okay.” He relents and shifts to kneel between your legs. His cock aches and bobs as he shuffles closer until he is gripping it and notching it at your entrance, slowly pushing into you with a groan.

You moan as he fills you, your legs lifting up to perch on his hips. You love how easily he slides deep and bottoms out inside you. Learning that you love him grinding his hips as you're stuffed full and the coarse hairs at the base of his cock brush against your clit. “Pero….” You whine softly, turning your head so you can chase his lips. “Kiss me.”

He can’t deny you anything now, not after weeks - months - of being trapped in the cottage with you. He presses his lips to yours, sliding his tongue between your lips as he begins to rock his hips, thrusting slowly and deep, grinding with no rush to cum despite his cock aching.

“Yes.” You moan into his mouth as he tastes you, feeling complete and it thrills you and terrifies you all at the same time. It would be easy to imagine him staying come spring, helping you work the land and standing beside you. He’s proven himself to be skilled, in this bed and out and you love the sharp wit he surprises you with.

He knows every little moan and murmur, knowing how to work you and how to bring you down. He knows your body as well as his own and it’s going to be hard to leave come spring but you made it clear you don’t want a husband. He pants, shifting to sink even deeper, his hips shifting yours so you are folded over slightly, and he groans into your mouth when you clench around him. You’re so fucking wet and tight, it’s gonna be hard to leave you.

“Oh fuck, Peroooo.” Your gaps of pleasure when he pushes deep and hits that wonderful little spot has you twisting your wrist and grabbing onto the ties. “Yes baby, oh fuck, please. I-I need you to - to fuck me.” You babble, mouth open and another moan pouring out. “Fill me up.”

He pushes deep, wanting to feel and hear you cum apart. “That’s it hermosa. I need you - need you to soak me. You can do it. Ahora. No-now.” He pleads, feeling his balls pull up with his own orgasm and he pushes deep inside you, clenching his jaw to stop his orgasm from happening before yours.

Your toes start to curl and the squeal precedes the way your entire body seizes up. Your cunt locks down around him like an iron band and you soak him with another wave of your cum. “P-P-Pero!” You choke out with every thrust of his cock.

He groans your name, pushing deep as he cums, spilling inside of you like he has for the past week as you assured him your tea was working to prevent you becoming with child. He hisses, leaning down to press his lips to yours, stilling inside of you as his cock twitches.

Whining at the heat flooding your cunt, you kiss him back and love how he starts to soften the kiss. “So good.” You murmur, blissed out and when he pulls back, you smile up at him. You wish you could touch him, stroke his back while he comes down from his high and you relax into the bed with a small pout.

He reaches up to undo the cloth ties, rubbing your wrists and kissing your palm as he settles beside you before pulling you into his chest. “Are you okay, hermosa?” He asks softly, wanting to ensure you are satisfied and he hasn’t unknowingly harmed you.

“Perfect.” You hum, snuggling into his chest and sighing softly as you stroke his arm like you had wanted to while you were tied up. “Just like I always am.” You turn your head and kiss the scar that is three inches up above his heart, happy that it hadn’t been lower and kept you from meeting him. “We have worked up an appetite today, sí?”

Pero chuckles, nodding in agreement. “Sí, señora. You wear me out.” He leans in to kiss your forehead while you rest against him. Your kiss on that scar makes his heart thump in his chest and he prays you don’t notice. He swallows harshly, knowing that each day that passes, he will find it harder to leave you and this cottage - no, home - you have let him in.

It hasn’t been all sex. Pero has done well hunting and the skins from the animals have been cured and worked into soft leather breeches for him, sure to keep him warm when he leaves. As well as fur lined gloves and a poncho. All tokens for him to take with him when he leaves. His clothes are all mended and patched and there is another beautiful chair that he built as well as the hooks he had made for you to store your tub more efficiently. Still, you hate to think about spring coming but it is coming. You pull away from him with a reluctant sigh. “I should stir the stew.” You murmur.

He watches as you shuffle off of the bed and he wants to pull you back but he knows he shouldn’t. He has to leave, has to sell his sword and make his coins. He can’t stay in this world with you. It’s not what he envisioned for his life.

****

Pero looks out of the window with a sigh, the snow is melting, the sun is shining outside and it’s time for him to go. He glances over at you, watching as you work on sewing the hem of your shift where he had accidentally ripped it last night when he was eager to make you fall apart on his tongue. “Hermosa…it’s time.” He announces softly despite it breaking his heart.

It takes you a moment, your sewing needle still before you fold your shift over and set it down. “I- I must get you some provisions together then.” You tell him, trying to force a smile on your face when your heart is shattering. You had fallen for Pero and wish him to stay but he is obviously eager to go out and sell his sword and try his skills on the whores in the brothels. Standing, you rush over to the hearth so he doesn’t see the tears in your eyes. “I will make it quick.”

He watches you go, the words he wants to say are on the tip of his tongue but he can’t say them. He can’t risk it. He swallows them down and watches you rush around the cabin until he forces himself to get ready, dressing in the leathers you had made him instead of the comfortable breeches and loose shirt he’s become accustomed to wearing.

You give him the best of what you can. Wrapping cheese and bread up. Quite a bit of the dried meat that was left. He was traveling and you could cook whenever, where he was unable to. The saddle bag is nearly bursting by the time you are done and you have put off the inevitable, Pero is leaving.

While you were preparing for his departure, Pero made his way out to the stable to ready his stallion who has rested for the winter, raring to get back on the road as he neighs when Pero places the saddle on the steed. He guides the horse to your front door and you stand there with the saddle bag which he soon attaches. “Hermosa…I don’t know how to thank you for letting me stay.” He says as he stands in front of you again.

“It was my pleasure.” You tease, begging yourself not to cry in front of him. There was no promises made of love or commitment. He has said he would leave and you had said you wanted no man, it would not be fair to convince him to stay where he did not want to be. Stepping closer, you adjust the poncho on his shoulders and run your hand down the leather and small, lovingly crafted stitches. “Take care of yourself Pero Tovar, and make sure you please the whore you bed.” You remind him. “It will save you coin.”

Pero tries to commit your face to memory and he offers you a small smile, “no matter who she is…she will never compare to you.” He allows himself that one moment then reaches for the coin purse on his belt, “this is for you.” He hands you several coins, “for letting me stay.”

He’s given you too much and you shake your head. “Two coins.” You remind him, trying to hand the others back but he just pushes your extended hand away. “Keep them, hermosa.” He insists and you wish you were keeping him. Clutching the coins, you throw your arms around him and kiss him one last time. Desperate and needy before you pull away. “God be with you. Stay safe.” You whisper softly.

He presses his lips to yours one last time, nudging his nose against yours, and finally, he kisses your forehead. “Gracias señora.” He murmurs, forcing himself to pull away. He wants to beg you to let him stay but he has to go, he has to sell his sword. Without another word, he turns and straddles his horse, looking down at you as he kicks the side of his stallion to begin his journey away from you. It kills him to ride away from you but he makes a silent vow that he will return to you.

****

It’s getting colder and Pero rides north towards your cottage coming Christmastide again. Winter is coming and he longs to see you. He hasn’t stopped selling his sword so he could earn enough coins to return to you. He arrives in the village near your home and the villagers greet him with smiles. “Ah, the husband has returned.” One says, remembering him from the prior year.

Pero frowns until he remembers that you were going to tell the town that he was your husband. He likes the idea of that and he nods, “yes. I’m back for my beautiful wife.” He smiles from atop his horse and the woman winks at him, “and I am certain you are eager to see the babe.” That makes Pero’s frown return and he offers her an awkward smile before riding to your cottage. A child? Perhaps you have moved on. Maybe he’s too late. His heart thumps as he ties up his horse and steps over to your door, hand hovering until he gets the guts to knock.

The baby squawks indignantly at the harsh knock on the door, your nipple pulled from his mouth for a split second before he frantically searches for it again. Settling down once he is sucking again as you stand and make your way to the door to open it cautiously. There have been no offers of marriage since last year but you are wary of anyone coming round. “Ye- Pero?” Your eyes widen as the man you have thought about for a year stands in your doorway.

His dark eyes widen as he looks down at the babe in your arms. The mass of dark hair just like his and he inhales sharply. “Señora.” He murmurs, staring at the baby for a moment until his eyes meet yours. “Is he - the villagers said - have you-?” He can’t believe what he is seeing.

Your eyes soften slightly at the shock that you see reflected in his face. You had discovered you were carrying his babe long after he had left and you could not track him down. You had thought you would never see him again but you had his child. “You have a son, if you wish to know him.” You won’t assume that he wants to be involved with his bastard since you weren’t actually married. The lie had allowed you to live respectfully and you were grateful for that alone.

Pero stares at you in disbelief, a wide grin appearing on his face after a moment. “Of course I want to get to know him. I want to be his father. I’ve - you are all I have thought about, señora. I haven’t been able to think of anything but you. I want you…I haven’t been to any brothels and I saved my coins so I could return to you, ask you to let me be your husband…officially.”

Shocked, you gape at him for a long moment until your son unlatches from your breast with a gurgle that makes you look down at him. “He is four months old.” You explain, looking back up at a Pero and shifting the baby so you can hold him out to his father. “I named him after you.” You admit quietly.

Pero has fought battles against mythical creatures and violent men who sought to kill him but there’s nothing that has him more nervous than taking his son into his arms. He swallows harshly, tears stinging in his eyes as he looks at the little boy in his arms who yawns and blinks those dark eyes just like Pero’s. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t here, hermosa.” He murmurs, not even looking at you as he keeps his gaze on the baby.

You pull your shift back up over your breast and start lacing it back up. “You did not know. I did not know when you left. I had been drinking the herbs, but your seed is apparently strong.” You smile at the sight of your son in his father’s arms. It’s not a sight you believed you would ever see. “It was not a hard time carrying him. And the birth was fairly quick according to the midwife.”

Pero is glad to hear that you were well during the birth and he wants to surge forward and kiss you but he doesn’t know if you want him. He says your name, making you inhale sharply, and he looks up from the babe who is now asleep in his father’s arms. “I intended to return to you to marry you. Long before I knew about our child. I thought of nothing and no one but you during your travels. I want you, hermosa. I want to be yours, you to be mine. I’m not a good man but I promise to lay my sword at your feet and be with you until the day I die.”

Your lip trembles slightly and you swallow. “I wished you to stay.” You confess, stepping closer to him. “But I knew you wanted to go, so I did not say anything. During our winter I discovered I love you. I have never wished for a husband but I wish for you to be mine.”

“I did not wish to leave, I had to go. I wanted to make enough coin to provide for us for a lifetime…and I have.” He gestures to his saddlebag. “I have enough coins to provide. I saved every coin I could. I haven’t been to a brothel. I haven’t touched anyone else since I left you, señora. I couldn’t. I want you. I- I love you.”

You’re surprised that he hadn’t touched someone. It’s been a year and men like him have needs. “No one?” You choke out softly. “I would not blame you.” You promise. “There were no vows taken.”

Pero shakes his head. “They were not you, hermosa. I wanted to come back to you, this Christmastide to beg you to be mine. To let me stay and build a life with you.” You choke out a sob and lunge forward to press your lips to his with the baby cradles between your bodies.

Pero sighs into your mouth in relief, adjusting the baby onto the crook of his elbow so he can cup your cheek, kissing your properly, and it’s like he’s come home. “Te amo, hermosa.” He murmurs, kissing your forehead when you pull back. “Shall we place el niño in his bed and we can talk properly?” He suggests, looking down at the babe in his arms and he’s reluctant to let go but he also needs to touch you.

You smile, looking down at the baby and nod. “I have a little box that I have fashioned for him.” You explain as you turn and know he will follow you. “I have been hoping to have a cradle made since the one from when I was a babe was too old and rickety.”

Pero smiles, “I will make him a cradle, hermosa.” He promises, knowing it will be his greatest project yet. He follows you into the house, grateful he unsaddled his horse in the stable before arriving on your doorstep, and he watches as you place the sleeping baby in the box. His heart is pounding at the sight of you with his child. It’s more than he ever imagined during those cold nights traveling, selling his sword, and dreaming of being in your bed again.

You are slightly nervous, standing straight and wiping your hands on your apron and you smile at him. “Are you hungry? I have some pie that you preferred.” You had continued to think about Pero, smiling to yourself when you would eat his favorite meals you made.

Pero follows you into the kitchen, “I’m starving. I have ridden for the entire day to return home to you.” He reveals, completely meaning what he says. This is his home. He reaches for you, grabbing your waist to pull you close and he presses his lips to yours, tilting his head to make the kiss passionate and deep.

Moaning into his mouth, you wrap your arms around him and tug on his armor to bring him closer. Closing your eyes and giving into the kiss that you have wanted for nearly a year. He’s home, he wants to be home, to stay here with you and your son. You whimper when his tongue glides against yours and revel in the taste of him.

Pero savors the kiss he’s been waiting a year for. His hands sliding down to squeeze your ass through the slip you’re wearing and he’s tempted enough by you to kneel down on the floor, lifting up the slip before his head ducks under it so he can bury his face in your folds.

“Pero!” You gasp loudly, surprised that he is immediately licking your cunt, especially after giving birth. Holding onto the table, you moan loudly but not enough to wake the baby. “Perooooo.”

He groans at your familiar taste, his hands squeezing your ass to tilt your hips so he can push his tongue deeper inside of you. His nose pressing against your clit just like you taught him. This is all for you. All for you. He’s all for you.

Whining, you grab the edge of your skirts to pull them over his head, wanting to see him. You’ve touched yourself thinking about him since he left and now he’s here. Flicking his tongue over your clit, you feel the fuzzy edges of your orgasm rushing up. “Oh fuck!”

Pero loves hearing your pleasure, his tongue diving deep and his cock aching in his breeches and he hisses when you clench around his tongue. He desperately wants you to cum. Wants to hear it again, and again, and again. He groans into your folds and sucks harshly on your clit.

You shudder, your knees nearly buckling from the pressure and pleasure being forced on you by his mouth. Looking down to find his eyes closed as he sucks on your clit, you whimper and with a final suck, come apart for him.

He takes everything you give him, every drop, and he laps at your cunt like he hasn’t eaten during the year he’s been away. In part it’s true since he missed your cooking and he has missed you. He works you through it until you are pushing his head away, making him whine at the loss.

“God.” You grab his shoulders and you would pull him up but it would take too much effort. Dropping down to your knees with him and pressing your lips to his desperately. “Take- take your cock out.” You beg, pushing him back into the floor in front of the hearth and straddling his hips. “I need you inside me.”

He doesn’t deny you as he reaches down to untie his breeches, letting you pull his cock out of his trousers and he groans when you pump him. “Hermosa. Please. Take what you want, what I need.” He pleads, groaning when you squeeze him.

It has been nearly a full year and you’ve had a baby since you’ve taken his cock. Still, your walls clench around nothing as you roll the foreskin down to reveal the sensitive tip to slide through your folds before you notch him at your entrance. “I love you, husband.” You moan, sinking down onto him and loving the stretch of him inside you again.

Hearing you call him husband has him groaning your name and he hisses when you sink down onto his aching cock. “Hermosa. Mi esposa. Mi amor.” He murmurs, caressing your waist as you begin to rock on top of him, making him groan your name.

It’s frantic, the two of you rocking together. You lean down and press your lips to his, loving how he is throbbing inside you. You know he won’t last long, not if he’s gone all year with no pleasure but his hand. “Inside my cunt or my mouth?” You demand breathlessly.

He wants to cum inside of you but he doesn’t want you to be with child so soon. “Mo-mouth.” He pants out, close to his orgasm, and he’s groaning your name when you shift off of him, leaving his wet cock in the cool air.

Shuffling down his body, you're greedy as you take him into your mouth. Tasting the saltiness of his seed and your own juices as you start to Bob your head on his hard cock. Looking up at him and moaning around his length, feeling him tense under you.

He groans, unable to withhold his orgasm as he spills down your throat, moaning your name as he cums, eyes closed as he savors the pleasure that one you can give him. “Fuck hermosa.” He growls and after you’ve worked him through it, he pulls you off of his cock and drags you up his body so he can kiss you.

You smirk against his lips, not caring that you are on the floor, pressed up against his body. “I thought I would never see you again.” You admit quietly after you pull away. “I am happy that I was wrong.”

“I was always going to come back to you. When I left…it was only so I could come back and provide for us. For my family.” He adds, still in awe of his son. Pero was seeking a haven for the winter and instead he found a home - a family. It’s more than he could’ve asked for…worth more than all the coins in the world.

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