#i fell into the mud twice!

[crescentmp3]

currently at çamlıca mosque i hate everything

[bytebun]

my life is so beautiful

[sugarcoatedstarkey]

Marital acts

Pairing- breeding!kink King George x Reader

Summary - no plot just breeding.

Warnings- NSWF sexual intercourse, fingering, female receiving oral, breeding kink. (18+)

A/n- reposting because the tags won’t work. Fingers crossed!! Request for @siriusblacklftv

You’d been married for three weeks now, marital acts had been had twice. You had started to notice the signs of arousal that George had spoken about, the way your heart picked up when you noticed him without a shirt.

The way your undergarments seemed to moisten when his arms would tense as he racked up the flower beds, you could not deny the feeling any longer.

“Brimsley!” You shouted; even though you knew he was but five paces behind you. Your forehead pressed against the glass as you watched your husband, your king, in the garden.

“Yes, your majesty?”

“Take me outside” “yes, your majesty”

You turned on your feet and began to walk towards the doors, the doormen pulled the oversized doors open for you. The cool English breeze hit you in the face, only confirming your arousal even more. Your body felt hot and sticky underneath the abundance of layers.

“Shoo with that umbrella” you ordered, waving your hand in the air. You didn’t want to be followed around with the stupid thing, if you needed it. You would hold it.

Your feet took you towards George, he did not notice you at first. Focused on the activity in front of him, mud covered his trousers, sweat glistened over his upper body.

Your mouth felt dry, unable to announce your own arrival. Brimsley seemed to understand the fluster you were in and stepped around you, standing as tall as he could.

“Your Majesty, the queen”

George still did not turn around, as though the words went over the top of him. Stomping your foot on the ground you began to walk towards him, your shoe meets the mud with a squelch.

“Your majesty!” Brimsley all but yelped, reaching out to grasp you. Your foot seemed to have sunk beneath the mud, the bottom of your dress sinking with you.

“Y!N!”

This time George noticed you, his arms cradled you as he pulled you from the mud. Your shoe was left behind as he checked you over. “Oh George, it is just mud!” You smiled up at him, his lips quirk up as he grins at you.

“Why are you out in the garden my love? You should be inside out of the sun” he whispers, his fingers trace up and down the length of your arm.

You chew on the inside of your mouth, looking behind you at Brimsley and the footmen. “Some privacy” George ordered when he noticed the look on your face, the men stepped away just enough so they could not hear the words spoken.

“I seem to have a feeling within myself” you whispered, dropping your eyes down to your stomach and back up to him. “It seems to be the arousal you had spoken of”.

“Oh.. oh!” George smirked, his arm held your waist and he pulled you closer. “Are your undergarments wet my love?”.

“I believe so”

“We are to go inside at once!” George ordered again, he was walking you back towards the door. Practically carrying you as your much smaller legs tried to keep up with his long strides.

Once you were within the castle walls, his lips were on yours. Hunger bubbled in his chest as he slid his tongue within your mouth, relishing the taste of you.

“George! The guards!” You exclaimed, he shook his head and picked you up bridal style. His legs carried you towards your bed chambers, letting the doors slam behind the two of you.

He dropped you onto the bed, gripping the back of your head and pressing his lips to yours once again. Your skin was hot, itching to get out of the confinements of your dress. “Come here” he ordered, he turned you around and ran his finger across your exposed shoulder.

He began to pull at the corset, until your breasts fell out. His hands reached around to grasp them, his mouth on your neck. “Oh George” you cried out, your stomach filled with butterflies.

“So beautiful my love… these breasts will be so full once I have planted my seed within you”. George groaned, his hips thrust into your backside.

He had uttered those words before but it seemed more real this time, his hands kneading the flesh of your chest. His hands fell and continued to pull your dress down, leaving you in your undergarments.

He spun you back around and pushed you against the bed, hands gripping the waistband of your bloomers. “You’ve soaked through my love” he whispered, he was on his knees in front of you.

Kissing along the exposed flesh of your leg until his face met your mound, breathing in the scent of your arousal. With one swift movement you were bare in front of him, undergarments thrown under the bed.

“So beautiful” he mumbles, pressing his lips to your cunt. You all but cry out, so sensitive to his touch. He has only touched you two times, the feeling of his lips to your skin was still unfamiliar to you.

“Your majesty!” You cried out when his tongue circled your puffy clit, his fingers curled around your thighs pulling you against his face. “Just George”.

You let out a giggle which was replaced with a moan as his fingers entered you, still very unfamiliar with the feeling of intrusion. He began to slip his long fingers in and out of you, your arousal coating him.

“I want to fill this pretty little cunt with my seed… fuck you hard until you are with child, I can’t wait to see the swell of your belly as I make love to you” he states, pulling himself away from your cunt.

He stands up and pulls his trousers down, his cock stands tall. It’s tip red and throbbing, begging to be inside of you. Your fingers wrap around his shaft, give him soft pulls until he is crawling above you.

Your legs parted for him eagerly, both your eyes fell to the area you are to connect. He holds his cock and presses it to your hole, pushing in slowly.

You felt full, your pussy pulsating around him. It was much easier this time round, your arousal giving you a lot of help. His hips began to rock, your legs wrapped around his waist.

“You're so tight… I want to stay inside of you forever” he groans, his head pressed into your neck as he thrusted into you. You wrap your arms around him, nails scratching his skin. “Please George, I would love nothing more than for you to stay inside of me”.

“Going to make love to you until your cunt is weeping, begging me to stop. Going to to abuse it until my seed seeps out of you”

His words seemed to cause a flutter within your stomach, clenching around him as he drove himself into you. “Please George! Fill me with your seed!” You beg, tears form within your eyes from the relentless thrusts.

He pulls out of you, moving himself up to the head board. “Get on”. You're crawling up to him and sinking back down on his cock, he takes your nipple within his mouth and sucks. “These breasts are but mine until we are blessed with children, I will then share them but then they are mine once they are old enough”.

You hold onto him around his neck once more, moving your hips in slow circles. Your clit rubs against the skin on his stomach, sending shock waves through your body.

“I have that feeling George… I feel pressure” you exclaim, squeezing your eyes shut as you bounce above him. His lips leave your breast and he stares up at you.

“You will feel the most amazing pleasure soon my love, milk me dry. We are to get you pregnant tonight”.

He grips onto your hips and helps you move, watching as your face screws up tightly. Your orgasm is but seconds away from invading your senses. “George!” You cry out, he grunts from beneath you as your head falls back and you cum around him.

You moans can be heard within the castle walls, footmen side eye one another.

“George! George!”

“That’s it my love, let that pleasure take over. I can feel your sucking me dry!”

Your body shakes above him, ears ringing and toes curling. George is seconds behind you, shooting his cum deep within your walls. “Do not stop George! Plant your seed within me, make me with child!”

“I will plant my seed deep inside of you, you will carry our child within a few weeks!” He grunts under you, milked dry from your swollen cunt.

“Wow!” You exclaim, relaxing around him. He stares up at you with tender eyes, placing his hand upon your stomach. “I do hope you will be with child”.

“Me too George, me too”.

[haleysgf]

sunflowers

Haley x Reader (Farmer)

Summary: Emily told her to carefully place the letter and roll of cloth into the Farmer's (albeit overflowing) mailbox. Easy instructions with a short note detailing how to get to the farm. Hayley would have to do it after she put the newest sunflower on her doorstep into the steadily growing vase on her dresser.

Warnings: None! Intended to be female farmer/haley, but no pronouns are used

A/n: I saw the cutest tik tok and it inspired me to make a whole new blog to get the idea onto paper. See the tik tok here -> ib

w.c. 1.4k

--♡--

'Please take this roll of cloth and note to the farmer! I have an errand to run in Calico Desert today, so I wont be able to! -E'

Haley yawned as she stared down at the note on the dining table. She blinked twice before groaning in annoyance, picking up the note and flipping it over to see carefully written out instructions detailing how to get to the farm. Glaring at the roll of cloth and carefully sealed envelope addressed to the farmer, she gingerly pushes them aside, making room for her to set down her bowl of cereal.

She chews slowly, hoping that if she moves slow enough, she wouldn't have to go and face the farmer as she delivered her sister's gift. Haley didn't mind having to see the farmer. It's not like she disliked the farmer, rather, she just doesn't understand why they would choose Pelican town of all places.

A glance to her phone tells her it's nearing noon, and if Emily isn't back to the house by now, it's more than likely she won't be home until after her shift at the saloon.

Haley sighs, again, and after placing her bowl in the sink, trudges to her room to fix up her hair and apply some makeup, just to look presentable. And most definitely not because she wants to look her best, just in case she does end up seeing the farmer.

It's basically one by the time she's done, and Haley takes a deep breath as she collects all of the items for delivery, hoping that the mud from the rain yesterday won't ruin her shoes as much as she anticipates.

She moves slowly, shifting the weight of the cloth to her hip as she opens her front door with one hand, blowing the strand of hair that fell into her face out of the way.

The sun is bright, and she shifts the cloth again before glancing down, warmth blooming in her chest.

Laying neatly on her doorstep was a sunflower, a bright thing, trimmed neatly with a bow tied carefully to the stem.

Haley glances outside, barely suppressing her smile, attempting to see if the owner was still around.

Seeing nothing but the young boy, 'Vincent' her head provides, poking around in the river, the smile on her face slips a little. Haley makes quick work of placing the cloth and letter on the coffee table by the door before bending down and gently picking up the flower. She admires it for a little before her hand smooths over the ribbon attached. Her cheeks are warm, and she flushes with affection at the thought of someone going out of their way to deliver something she loves to her doorstep.

She takes it to her room, smiling all the while, as she pulls the little glass vase on her dresser towards her, placing the flower in the water gently.

There's a total of seven now, one for each morning the past week. Haley has no idea who could be leaving the flowers, but a flush of affection blooms in her heart for whoever it could be.

She carefully thumbs over a petal on the oldest sunflower, beginning to wilt, it's petals growing softer by the day.

There's a couple minutes of Haley gently smiling at the flowers before she remembers the errand she has to run.

The flowers are left with one last glance as she closes her room door behind her, smiling to herself as she picks up the cloth and letter from the table before making her way outside.

It's hot outside, as expected from summer, but Haley's mind is only concerned about any sweat stains on her clothes, or the possibility her makeup is running. Additionally, the walk is longer than she previously expected, sparing a glance to the bus stop and then to her shoes, caked with mud. Haley sighs.

She hadn't visited the farm before, finding the distance a deterrent along with the fact that she simply had no reason to visit previously. The mud and the sweat Haley's sure is running down her throat is only further justification for why she's never visited.

There's a sign that points down the road, the farm's name written neatly in Robin's handwriting.

At least she's headed in the right direction.

The walk is only a little longer before the path gives way to a large expanse of land and a large farmhouse on her right. The mailbox is easy to spot, slightly overflowing with various letters and items gifted from those in the community.

'Popular.' Haley thinks offhandedly, shifting the cloth around in her arms. She's starting to wonder if she should've written a letter of her own to stick in the mailbox alongside her sister's.

'Well, too late.' She thinks, walking over to the mailbox.

It's not easy fitting the cloth and letter in the mailbox, but she's able to fit it alongside all of the other things. Haley's even sure that there was a rock in the mailbox. What the farmer needs the rock for? She's not sure.

Once she's completely sure that the mailbox won't burst open, spilling all of it's contents all over the floor, she allows herself to look around. She justifies the look around, 'snooping' the voice in her head helpfully chirps, by telling herself that she's looking for the farmer. Someone has to tell them to check their mailbox.

There's a box to the right of the farmhouse, and when she opens it, peering inside curiously, there's a case of wine neatly placed inside, along with a box of blueberries and other miscellaneous items.

She closes the box, the lid closing heavily as it shuts, and turns around. If she squints, Haley's sure there's a silo, and a small chicken coop, but the land is mostly worked, green plants sprouting up from the group. She's almost jealous that the farmer's so good with plants.

Her shoes click on the wooden walkways that the farmer has placed down, looking around, when something yellow in the corner of her eye catches her attention.

She turns and follows the path towards where the glimpse of yellow came from. The path curves around some trees, previously blocking her view. When her field of vision clears of trees, the breath in her chest rushes out of her body.

There's a small plot of land, seemingly dedicated to sunflowers.

Her legs move towards the plot without her permission, and her hand comes up to touch the soft petals of the proud flowers.

She walks around the square plot, mesmerized by the flowers, before coming across one empty spot. There must've been a flower here at one point, the rest of the flowers uniformly lined up, at different stages of growth.

Haley's eyes widen as she notes which flowers are blooming in different stages.

There's six total plants in the plot that are still in the process of blooming, the oldest one just waiting to bloom.

Her heartbeat is loud in her chest as she makes multiple different connections at once.

First, the farmer has an entire plot of farmland dedicated to her favorite flower. Second, the flowers she's been receiving for the last week are more than likely from the farmer. Third, the affection in her chest and the heat that is steadily growing on her cheeks is definitely not a normal reaction.

The sound of boots on wood pull her attention from the blooms, as she locks eyes with the farmer.

They're slightly muddy, holding a pail of milk in one hand, the other holding a silver watering can.

Her heartbeat thunders in her chest as her eyes zero in on the bead of sweat falling on the farmer's throat, and the press of biceps against the fabric of their shirt.

Haley's almost positive that she's trespassing, but she's more positive that the farmer looks so pretty in the summer heat.

She makes a couple of aborted noises, before her hand comes up to point at the sunflowers.

"You grow these?"

Of all of the things she could have said, Haley's sure that this could be one of the worst things.

The farmer simply shoots them a smile, setting down the milk pail by their feet.

"Yeah, aren't they pretty?"

Haley notes that the farmer never broke eye contact as they spoke.

"They're my absolute favorite."

Her heart pounds in her chest as the farmer's smile grows almost sheepish.

"I know."

[bookwormjust]

Insufferable duo (established relationship with Azriel, an afternoon with the IC, pairing together to tease Cassian)

The afternoon sunlight poured through the large windows of the House of Wind, casting a golden glow over the room as the Inner Circle gathered for a rare, peaceful moment together. It had been a long time since everyone could relax like this—no crises, no wars, no missions. Just laughter, conversation, and a chance to unwind. You were curled up beside Azriel on one of the plush couches, his arm draped casually over your shoulders, while Feyre, Rhysand, and Mor were scattered around the room, chatting easily.

And then there was Cassian. Loud, larger-than-life, and completely unsuspecting.

It had started innocently enough. Cassian had been boasting—again—about his latest training victory over a group of younger Illyrians, recounting the way he’d completely demolished them in a sparring match. He puffed out his chest, grinning like a fool, while Azriel sat quietly beside you, his lips twitching with barely-contained amusement.

You nudged Azriel’s leg with your knee, giving him a mischievous look that he immediately mirrored. There was a certain kind of unspoken language between the two of you, a silent understanding that could only come from years of knowing each other’s rhythms and moods. And right now? You were both thinking the same thing.

Cassian was way too easy to mess with.

“So, Cassian,” you started innocently, leaning forward in your seat. “Let me get this straight. You’re telling us you took down all the Illyrians—by yourself? Without any help?”

Cassian grinned wider, his wings giving a little satisfied twitch. “That’s exactly what I’m telling you. They didn’t stand a chance.”

You shot Azriel a quick look, and he smirked, already catching on to where this was going. “That’s funny,” Azriel drawled, his voice calm but laced with mock seriousness. “Because if I recall, didn’t you trip over your own feet during the last training session? Ended up face-first in the mud.”

Cassian shot him a glare, but it was half-hearted. “That was one time.”

“One time?” you chimed in, feigning surprise. “Because I could have sworn I saw you do it twice. Wasn’t it twice, Az?”

Azriel nodded solemnly, playing along. “Definitely twice.”

Cassian crossed his arms, his lips twitching as if he were trying not to laugh. “I didn’t trip. The ground was uneven.”

You snorted, raising an eyebrow. “Uh-huh. Sure it was.”

At that, Rhysand chimed in from across the room, a lazy grin on his face as he leaned back in his chair, clearly enjoying the show. “I think I remember seeing that too. Wasn’t there a really big splash when he fell? Feyre, do you remember?”

Feyre bit her lip to keep from laughing, nodding in agreement. “There was definitely a splash.”

Cassian threw up his hands. “Alright, alright! I didn’t trip—okay, maybe I did, but it was a fluke. That doesn’t change the fact that I still wiped the floor with those Illyrians. Which is more than I can say for Az over there, hiding in the shadows as usual.”

Azriel just gave Cassian a slow, dangerous smile—the kind that always sent a chill down your spine, but you knew this one was purely playful. “Hiding in the shadows gets the job done,” he said smoothly. “I don’t need to throw myself face-first into the dirt to prove anything.”

You couldn’t hold back the laugh that bubbled up, leaning into Azriel’s side. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure Az never ends up face-down in the mud. Unlike someone.”

Cassian groaned, throwing his head back against the couch. “You two are insufferable.”

You and Azriel exchanged a glance, both of you biting back grins. That one word—insufferable—was the green light for both of you to push it just a little further. With Cassian, that was always the fun part.

“Insufferable?” you repeated, feigning offense as you placed a hand over your heart. “Cass, I’m hurt. We’re just pointing out some... facts.”

Azriel leaned in closer to you, his breath warm against your ear as he whispered, “He’s really making this too easy.”

You stifled a giggle, leaning into the warmth of his body. “I know. It’s like he wants us to mess with him.”

Cassian narrowed his eyes, sensing the conspiracy between you two. “What are you whispering about? Don’t think I can’t hear you.”

Azriel shrugged, completely unfazed. “Just discussing how it’s a miracle you can still call yourself a General Commander, considering how often you manage to embarrass yourself in front of all the Illyrians.”

Cassian let out an exaggerated huff, standing up from the couch and dramatically stretching his wings. “You know what? I don’t have to sit here and take this abuse. I’m leaving.” He pointed at you and Azriel, trying to hold onto his glare but failing miserably as the corners of his mouth twitched. “You two are worse together than a pair of drunk faelings. I’m going to find someone who appreciates me.”

You leaned back into Azriel’s chest, wrapping your arms around your knees as you grinned up at Cassian. “Good luck with that.”

Cassian was halfway to the door when Mor chimed in from across the room, her voice sweet and innocent. “Cassian, don’t forget to watch your step. We wouldn’t want you to trip again.”

You couldn’t hold it back anymore—you burst out laughing, clutching your stomach as Cassian turned, a deeply betrayed look on his face. "YOU TOO, Mor?!”

She just winked at him, clearly loving every second of it.

Cassian shook his head, dramatically sighing as he looked between you and Azriel. “I hope you two are proud of yourselves,” he said, backing toward the door. “You’re absolute menaces.”

Azriel didn’t even bother hiding his smile as he squeezed your shoulder, his voice laced with dry amusement. “We are.”

Cassian groaned again, turning to leave, but before he could exit, Azriel called out in a mock-serious tone, “Careful on those steps outside, Cassian. Wouldn’t want you to take another tumble.”

The entire room erupted in laughter, and Cassian’s voice came faintly from the hallway as he shouted, “I hate you all!”

You turned to Azriel, unable to wipe the grin from your face. “We really are insufferable.”

Azriel’s gaze softened, his smile tugging at his lips as he leaned down to press a soft kiss to your forehead. “Maybe. But only with you.”

You sighed happily, snuggling deeper into his side. “Lucky for you, I love it.”

“Lucky for me,” Azriel murmured, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on your arm. “I love it too.”

And so the teasing, the laughter, and the warmth of the afternoon continued, the bond between you and Azriel only deepening as you basked in the shared joy of simply being together—with the added bonus of getting to torment Cassian along the way.

[rosemaryblossomworld]

Think I need someone older

𝙿𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐: 𝙰𝚎𝚖𝚘𝚗𝚍 𝚃𝚊𝚛𝚐𝚊𝚛𝚢𝚎𝚗 𝚡 𝚃𝚊𝚛𝚐𝚊𝚛𝚢𝚎𝚗! 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

𝚂𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: 𝙰𝚎𝚖𝚘𝚗𝚍 𝚒𝚜 𝚒𝚗 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚘𝚕𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚜𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛.

𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: 18+, 𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚎𝚜𝚝, 𝚘𝚕𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 (𝙰𝚎𝚖𝚘𝚗𝚍 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎𝚜 𝚘𝚕𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚠𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚗...), 𝙰𝚎𝚖𝚘𝚗𝚍 𝚒𝚜 𝚊𝚗 𝚊𝚍𝚞𝚕𝚝, 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚗����, 𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚙𝚞𝚜𝚜𝚢, 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚠𝚘 𝚘𝚛𝚐𝚊𝚜𝚖𝚜

𝙰/𝚗: 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚢 𝚋𝚎 𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚎𝚜 𝚋𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝙴𝚗𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚑 𝚒𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚖𝚢 𝚏𝚒𝚛𝚜𝚝 𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚞𝚊𝚐𝚎. 𝙰𝙻𝚂𝙾! 𝙸𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚊𝚗𝚏𝚒𝚌 (𝙸 𝚠𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚊 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚘𝚗), 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚏𝚕𝚒𝚙 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍!

Few people were unaware of Aemond Targaryen's obsession with his older half-sister. He identified her every breath and word as a blessing from the gods.

Alicent was not against uniting with the Blacks, she herself had proposed marriage! But she didn't want her son to marry a woman twice his age. She loved him and offered various daughters from different houses that matched his age. But Aemond gave the invited guest a bored look every time.

Y/n Targaryen was the king's eldest daughter, he loved and praised her. She was a woman of intelligence, she gave up the throne and married a lord, it was said that they loved each other, which was very rare in their time. But alas, the man died in the war, leaving a young wife and three children.

As she walked the halls of the castle, she greeted every servant. She knew every servant by name. She was not afraid of dirty work, once some people from the court saw how the first princess helped the laundress to collect the laundry, which fell in the mud, that day it rained heavily.

Aemond had followed her around like a duckling following his mother since he was young. She defended him from the attacks of the bastard Strongs, told them off and reported to the mother of the family.

"I will marry you, sister!" shouted the boy in a burst of ebullience.

"Oh, my prince, but I will be old by then," the eldest princess laughed, stroking the prince's ruffled hair.

"I will love you always. I don't care about age!" said Aemond just as reverently.

The princess laughed at him, not taking him seriously. After all, he was not the first boy to declare his love to her. She knew that soon he would forget about her and marry a girl his own age.

Sitting at the family table, Y/n felt his intense gaze devouring every inch of her body. Aemond had grown up. And grown into a fine young man. Returning to King's Landing, the eldest princess had hoped that Aemond had married a lady from another house. But the young prince remained lonely and was clearly waiting for something, or rather someone.

From her close servants, Y/n learned that all the women his mother had suggested, he had rejected. And kept asking to send the marriage proposal to her. But the Queen refused because of the age difference. And Y/n supported her.

The first princess was not much affected by age, sometimes thought to be only twenty and five. Because of that, there were rumors of a curse, a witch, etc. But Y/n was not a young lady. And she thought it was ridiculous for her to marry a second time. She had children who were the same age as Aemond!

The princess watched her family who were talking amongst themselves, laughing and having fun. Y/n smiled, realizing that this was the only peaceful moment after all these years.

She shifted her gaze again to Aemond, who continued to stare at her. The woman stiffened but smiled, then turned her back to her eldest son, who distracted her with a question.

"Oh, Your Grace, we meant to make a little announcement," the queen said quietly but loudly, the table fell silent.

"Right, wife, thank you for reminding me," Viserys exhaled heavily.

"What kind of announcement is this?" laughed Rhaenyra nervously.

"I realized that almost all of my children and grandchildren have found a mate, it is very important to me. Today I wanted to announce that my son Aemond is also getting married," muttered the king.

"Oh that is wonderful news," Y/n pressed her palm to her chest and turned to the prince, she smiled affectionately at him. Viserys was unable to continue his monologue.

"Let me do this, my love," Alicent spoke softly.

"Please," the man exhaled tiredly.

"We've found him the perfect match. We have been discussing this with the King for years," Alicent turned her attention to the first princess, "We have decided that, you, Y/n Targaryen will be perfect for my son," Alicent smiled affectionately again, excitement and fear frozen in her eyes. This decision was much harder for her to make than many thought.

The table fell silent. Rhaenyra looked at her sister with fear, the latter looked at the girl as well, then shifted her gaze to Daemon, who frowned.

"Your Majesty...do you understand the risk?" y/n's voice trembled.

"We understood, but lately many families have refused to accept a marriage proposal. So we decided to choose someone from a close circle," the Queen smiled nervously.

"I am not young. Aemond would be suited for a girl his age," for the first time in her life, the princess wanted to escape this room and run away to her chambers.

"We know..." Alicent pressed her lips together.

"I'm not sure I can give birth because of my age," the woman's brain was tossing ideas of retreat to her, but all those ideas ran into a high and solid wall.

"We've talked about this. If it doesn't work out, Aemond said it doesn't matter to him and he's willing to be the father of your children," Alicent exhaled convulsively.

"But..." the older princess wanted to continue.

"Y/n!" came the squeaky voice of the king.

"Father!" shrieked the girl similarly.

"This decision is not negotiable! I want happiness for you," Viserys coughed.

"I'm sorry," y/n got up from the table and hurried away so as not to cause a scene.

The next day the woman did not come out until the evening. Throughout the day she had been visited by her children and her younger sister, who was in shock and angry at her father's decision.

It was cool in the garden, the woman wrapped herself in her silk robe, she nodded to the knight who stood guard in the garden and went deep inside.

"It's dangerous for such a beautiful woman to walk at night without knights," a voice sounded somewhere to her left, Y/n turned around.

"Aemond..." the princess squirmed.

"Sister, I haven't seen you all day," the young man stepped closer.

"I wasn't feeling well today and decided to rest," y/n walked forward.

"Is it because of the news?" asked the obvious thing Aemond.

"Yes! How could they? They condemned you to live with an old woman who can't give you anything!" the princess exploded and turned to the young man again.

"Don't talk about yourself like that!" raised his voice to the prince, frowning.

"But it is true! You weren't looking hard enough, perhaps you would have found the one and only!" y/n wanted to scream, but she realized she would wake up the entire castle.

"I found my one and only long ago...and no one can compare to her," whispered Aemond and moved even closer to the woman who was standing with her back to him.

"Why then..." the princess turned to him, and saw that very look in his eyes.

"I told you sister, I will find any way that we can be together,"

"No...Aemond...you don't realize what you are condemning yourself to,"

"I don't want a baby, I just want you!"

"Aemond...do you hear me! I'm an old widow who could die at any moment!"

The prince doesn't hold back and reaches out his hand to the woman's neck, squeezing it but allowing her to breathe.

"Don't you dare! If you die, I will follow you," Aemond looked into the girl's eyes with fury.

"You fool!" she whispered.

"I'm a fool! I love you so much and you can't understand that," the young man moved closer to the princess's face and then slowly began to lead her towards the tree, keeping her throat down.

He hid them behind bushes and other trees. Aemond pressed his whole body against his lover. Then he nestled his lips to hers. His kiss was inept and rough, he pressed hard on the girl's lips, making it impossible to move them. Unable to hold back, Y/n bit Aemond's lip, the prince pulled back. He exhaled heavily. Even the bite of his beloved was a blessing to him.

He let go of her neck, sliding down and lifting her robe and night dress.

"Wait!" the princess startled.

Aemond piled his entire body on top of the woman again, preventing her from moving. He snuck further in, touching her womanhood. She sighed convulsively.

"No underwear?" grinned the prince, embarrassing the woman.

He ran his index finger along the Y/n's folds, again pulling a sigh from her lips. Then again and again until the her juices began to show. He teased the pearl, squeezing it between his fingers and pulling it away.

Y/N grasped the man's shoulders and nipped at the spot between his shoulder and neck, holding back a moan.

Aemond continued to slide and pull away from the woman's bead.

"Aemond," sobbed the princess, she felt herself surrendering under the onslaught of these beautiful sensations.

"What is it my queen?" the prince asked and smirked "Tell me. What do you want?"

"Inside...touch inside. I want to feel you inside," the girl breathed heavily, grasping at his black leather tunic.

AEmond slowly slipped two fingers into the woman's womb. This time the Princess didn't hold back a moan. She hadn't felt these feelings in a long time, she hadn't touched herself and she hadn't brought anyone into her bedroom since her husband's death. But now...Aemond made her remember these sensations.

The prince sped up his movements, wet and squelching sounds echoed through the garden, speeding up every second.

This sound excited Y/N even more, she began to squeeze the young man's fingers, no longer holding back her moans. If anyone saw them, they would think the prince was having fun with a Silk Street prostitute.

Y/N threw her right leg over Aemond's thigh, pressing her closer to him. She could feel the bump against her thigh. The princess reached her hands out to the guy's face, guiding him to her face, she connected with him in a kiss, schooling him.

The woman's legs began to tremble, Aemond noticed it, so he put his free arm around her waist, holding her.

"Aemond, I'm about to..." the princess gasped, she was short of breath.

"C'mon, I'm here, let it go," the young man whispered caressingly into her ear, and the girl let go.

A groan caught in her throat, her legs shook, and the walls enveloped Aemond's fingers, squeezing them convulsively. The prince waited for a while, then stuck his fingers out. Y/N thought he would say goodbye to her now, or escort her out, but he knelt down, spreading the legs wider. He nestled his lips against the woman's nub, sucking and drinking all of the girl's juices. The princess sighed sharply, not expecting this.

"Wait! Fool! There...There...It's all sensitive in there! No!" the woman tried to move away or push the prince's face away, but Aemond pressed down harder and harder.

The prince drove his tongue back and forth, circling the lovely pearl, and then went further, thrusting his tongue inside.

The prince drove his tongue back and forth, circling the lovely pearl, and then went further, thrusting his tongue inside.

Y/n was thrashing in an agony of pleasure, she was in pain and pleasure, she wanted to run away but at the same time press the prince's face closer. She could feel Aemond moving his tongue, it was a delightful feeling. The prince was touching all her sensitive spots. Involuntarily, the princess began to move her hips, enjoying herself. Aemond groaned as he felt his lover's involvement. Y/n felt the pleasure forming into a tight lump again, and then that lump unleashed. The girl let out a sound, it resembled both a cry and a scream.

Aemond drank all that poured out of his woman's womb, licking the inside of her thigh gently. He rose from his knees, holding the woman who was piling on top of him due to her orgasm, unable to keep herself on her feet.

"I love you, sister! You are everything to me. And you will be mine..."

[temporarily-your-saint]

Dull Blades Pt. 2

benjicot blackwood x targaryen oc

word count: 2.6k

warnings: slight spoilers from Fire & Blood book, blood/war description

tropes: slow burn, angst, forbidden lovers??

PART 1: https://www.tumblr.com/chels-cosplay/754806134048800768/dull-blades

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The campsite was riddled with mud and bloodthirsty men spread throughout as the princess made her way back. This was war, she thought to herself. So many men lined throughout the grounds ready to die for her family, for her mother’s right to the throne. She found pride in it yet a strain of sadness pinged inside her chest at the thought. A sorrowful notion enveloped her mind as she realized the reality of it all. Many of these men, if not most, will die. But there wasn’t time to dwell for she needed to be strong and prove to these men that it was worth it, that her mother, and that she too was worth it. And she was here to help.

Heads turned toward her as the silver-haired princess threw open the tent flap. Respectful bows followed with mutters of “princess” followed as she passed the men inside to take her position at the head of the table. Her eyes fell down at the map in front of her. It wasn’t quite the extravagant, fire-glowing map she had at home but it would do.

“Princess, the Lannister army holds fast and we’re running out of time. The Kinslayer could fly over at any moment with that beast of his. We must act immediately,” Forrest Frey’s words broke her away from her thoughts. Forrest Frey, or known as Fool Frey, lead his house with nearly eight hundred men.

“Why do you think our queen sent me this way, Lord Frey?” Her words were harsh, challenging the man next to her. Of course she knew they were running out of time. Her dragon, Valax, was the only one that could even come close to challenging Vhagar. And for this reason was the only way she was able to fully convince her mother to send her to the Riverlands to fight.

Lord Frey’s lips parted as if to begin speaking but was quickly interrupted as the tent swung open. Deep brown eyes found Rhaelana’s as she sized up the familiar figure that approached the table.

“Good of you to finally join us, Lord Blackwood,” sarcasm teased the princess’s words as her face remained stoic, gaze never leaving his.

“Princess,” he responded with nod, a mischievous smirk itching at the corner of his lips.

Her eyes scanned across the table to the other lords and then landed back to Lord Frey. “As we were discussing…Yes, time is not our ally at the present. The Lannisters have the disadvantage being on these lands though their numbers are impressive. More than impressive. If I was informed correctly, they stand with nearly twice as many bodies. And as stated before, Vhagar could be in the skies at any moment,” She sighed as she stated the unfortunate facts. The defense of the Greens was a terrifying factor to swallow but they had the North, and she knew they fought like no others.

“Lord Roderick, you will take your wolves to the front. You’ll be leading us.” Her arm reached across the table to move the marker in position. “Lord Frey will follow with his knights and infantrymen on either side to enclose the Greens. And Lord Blackwood,” her voice breathed, meeting those familiar eyes once again. “Lord Rivers will set your archers on the north. We’ll march south to meet the Greens where we’ll attack near Gods Eye.”

She took a deep breath as her voice lowered. “I need all of your fighters to push the Lannister army as close to the water as possible. I came here with my dragon to aid you in this battle but I will not set these lands aflame. These are your kin’s land and I will not dare turn it to fire and ash.”

The lords watched her, understanding her command. Her eyes searched theirs, looking to find respect or horror or disgust, anything to help gage where she stood amongst these men. Then her eyes found the young lord’s across the table once again. He watched her in awe, determined to fulfill her orders and win this war for her mother, for her. She turned her gaze away, a slight blush reaching up her neck to her cheeks from the intensity of his gaze.

“Best make an end to these lions before the dragons come, Princess,” Sir Roderick spoke up, breaking her from her train of thought.

“Ready your forces, my lords. We march at dawn.”

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“It’s over, princess.”

Rhaelana’s eyes darted around the battlefield. It was like casting one’s eyes over a red sea—blood staining the grass as far as their eyes could witness. Death surrounded them.

Water dripped from the princess’s face as rain began to fall. It was as if the heavens cried for them. Gods, it was a cruel world.

Lilac eyes found the lord next to her as he spoke. She nodded, agreeing with him. “Yes,” she began, reaching up towards her own face to wipe splattered mud and blood from her face. “But more is coming. We will need to prepare but tonight we rest, Lord Blackwood.”

"The men have earned it. Rest that is," Benjicot's head turned to meet Rhaelana's gaze, taking in the sight of the princess with a hint of melancholy.

He was an unwaveringly loyal supporter of his queen and had grown quite fond of her daughter, the princess that stood before him. His respect for her only grew during the battle as she fought alongside the men and women that gave their lives for the true crown. The fire that grew within her, a pure dragon through and through, was also impressive and a sight to behold. One that he would remember for the rest of his days.

His gaze dropped to the mud, flecked with red and brown, at their feet. Rhaelana’s eyes found his face, studying the young man. He was handsome with his high cheek bones and rounded face. A slim figure but a mighty and brutal force on the battlefield. She had quickly learned why he adopted the name “Bloody Ben” from the rest of the men.

“We can rest while we hold a funeral pyre tonight, princess. My men deserve that, at least. We have lost more than not. If you’ll permit it, that is.”

The princess’s eyes fell to the saturated ground as he mentioned the funeral. So many had given their lives. Her heart silently broke for those now laying before her amongst the muck. More than half of their men was gone.

“Listen to me, Lord Blackwood,” she spoke softly, almost in a whisper. “Every fight. Every battle you survive, you have to see the end. You must gaze upon those that are now gone.” Her voice hitched at the last word. “We at least owe them that. And we must never forget what it cost us.”

With that, she glanced at the young man next to her and reached out to touch his arm, almost as a condolence. Or maybe she needed to touch someone in that moment that was living, just to find some sort of warmth and comfort.

She then nodded her head toward him, dismissing herself as she strode past him and into camp.

Benjicot’s gaze followed her as she walked past him. He couldn’t help but miss the warmth that radiated from her hand as she left. Gods, and the comfort. It was only for a mere second but he ached for that comfort again, ached for any sort of relief from this hell he stood in. The young lord had seen death before but not like this. Never like this. Bodies of boys, barely even reached manhood scattered throughout the carnage now engraved into his brain. Rain drops hit his face, mixed with salty tears that trickled down, falling onto the blood-soaked ground.

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As the sun finally set, Benjicot’s thoughts kept drawing him back to Rhaelana. He thought of the melancholy look in her eyes and the tremble he'd heard in her voice. Her words echoed in his brain, not able to draw himself out from the memory of her.

The lord felt an odd sense of protectiveness towards the young princess. A protectiveness he loathed to ever admit out loud, especially since he knew she could hold her own. He had seen her fierceness first-hand on the battlefield, so it was almost comical to feel as if he needed to be the one to protect her. She had come to the Riverlands to do exactly that but for the North and for his men.

After eating a few bites of bread and smoked venison, Benjicot rose from his tent and picked his way through groups of men, looking for the Queen's daughter.

Rhaelana sat near the fire that was at the center of camp. The log below her dampened her legs and tunic but the flame before her kept her warm and dry enough. Luckily the rain had let up before nightfall but the chilly air still brushed along her face. Her cheeks appeared rosy, a flush spreading from her there up to her nose from that cool breeze. She certainly was not used to the chillier and wetter climate that the Riverlands provided.

She brought the mug she held to her lips, drinking in the strong ale and allowing the alcohol to warm her as well.

Benjicot's eyes continued to scan the camp until he caught sight of the young princess sitting by the campfire. Her silver hair and small frame was near impossible to miss. He approached her, stopping behind her toward the side.

"You will catch a chill," he drawled, his voice playful though a hint of worry was there. He stood behind her to shield her from most of the still-cold night air.

A smirk played at the corner of her mouth. She took one more sip and then turned toward the man next to her. The princess recognized his voice before she even turned her gaze toward him.

“If a cold takes me then I think that would be the least of my worries, my lord,” she teased as her purple eyes found his.

She tilted her chin toward the fire as she spoke, “Come, join me, Lord Blackwood.”

A smile tugged at his lips in response to her jape and Benjicot made a show of sighing before rounding the fire and sitting down next to Rhaelana. He boldly sat close to the princess, their legs almost touching.

"I dare say you're only asking because of the warmth I may offer," he teased back, watching the embers dance across her face.

Rhaelana’s smile never faltered as he teased while he made his way to sit next to her. She hadn’t quite gotten used to his wit and brazenness but was always pleasantly surprised by the young lord.

She adjusted her posture and brushed his leg with her own, playfully taunting back. A quickened pulse drummed in her ears as a light blush spread over her. His proximity was intoxicating and the alcohol she sipped only heightened her own boldness.

“And maybe I would like to enjoy some company,” she teased back.

Feeling the princess move closer, Benjicot dared to shift a bit closer to her as well. He knew they needed to behave for her sake, for her honor. She was the princess after all. But gods, did she captivate him.

Her words made the young lord look at her, taking in the slight blush that spread over her face. Despite her being age eight and ten, more than marriageable, in that moment she looked like a young girl flirting with peril.

"What sort of company would you like?" He asked, his voice lower and slightly breathier than usual, daring her to answer.

Her eyes fell from his stormy eyes to his lips. She traced over his handsome features with her own lilac ones. She memorized the scar that lay above his lip, the crook of his teeth as he smiled, the way his eyes beamed toward her with eagerness. He felt so familiar, so comfortable to her.

Her gaze then met his once again as she spoke, “Yours, specifically,” she stated boldly, her words falling from her lips in a whisper.

The answer surprised him and yet it didn't. Benjicot had noticed the glances she'd given him when she thought he wasn't looking. The way her hand lingered on his arm when she needed him to stay by her side after the battle. The way her eyes had trailed to and settled on his face every time he spoke.

As she sat next to him now, with their thighs and knees pressed together, he felt as if his heart was suddenly lodged in his throat. He swallowed once, hard.

"And what does my specific company entail, princess?" He asked quietly.

Of course she noticed that he was nervous. Or maybe excited? Both? She understood for her own nerves ran through her body and electrified her. The princess had never been this close to him before or any man for that matter. That fact made her heart pound in her ears, almost sure that he could also hear it.

Her voice didn’t rise above a whisper as she answered his question. “You are to keep your princess safe, Lord Blackwood,” she responded, the teasing never leaving her tone.

Benjicot’s mouth quirked to one side. In her playful tone he could hear her bravado, her attempt at hiding her own nervousness.

He moved even closer, closing nearly all the space that was between them.

"Well, that is my duty...my lady,” as he spoke, he reached upwards carefully. His hand hovered over her cheek for a few beats before gingerly tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

His fingers lingered on her skin, just above her cheek, feeling the warmth from her body.

He moved closer, so close that he could smell the sweet scent of lavender and ale that emitted from the young woman. She was intoxicating. He was close enough to count the minute freckles that dotted her nose as his eyes scanned her face.

“Benjicot. Or, Benji. You can call me Benji," he said quietly, gaze finding hers once again, then drifting down to her lips.

He suddenly felt very, very nervous. For the first time in his life, Benjicot Blackwood had no idea what to say or do next.

Rhaelana’s mind raced. He was so close, so close she could move just a mere couple of inches and she’d—

“Princess,” his voice whispered, snapping her from her thoughts. “We should turn in until the morrow.”

Gods, he wanted her to oppose him. He wanted to stay here, warming the princess during the bleak night. But he knew better. He knew they couldn’t risk unsolicited eyes surveilling their current position.

The princess’s heart sank as she drew back away from Benjicot at his words. Of course, how could I be so careless? Maybe it’s the ale… Did I read into him wrong?

She took one last sip of her ale, emptying the cup and stood from her seat next to him. Disappointment clung to the inside of her chest, causing her heart to ache as it clenched around it with every beat.

“Goodnight, Lord Blackwood. Until the morning,” Rhaelana nodded her head towards him and then turned away to strode towards her tent, dismissing herself.

Benjicot sat dumbfounded, disappointed, and confused. He knew he had done the honorable thing, especially by preventing any sort of gossip that could potentially spread if the wrong eyes gawked at them. But why did he feel so discontent?

He decided then that he would make things right with the princess in private where wandering eyes couldn’t defile hers or his reputation.

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HI, HELLO! I was so excited to write a second part and now that we’re here, I am even more thrilled to continue on with a third one. I truly thought I was only going to do a one-shot but uh, I live for a slow burn romance. Thank you all for taking the time of day to read this little blurb that’s been stuck in my brain. I am clearly still all aboard the fancast Benjicot train. :’) We only know pain here, huh?

[avastrasposts]

Memories made, memories lost

Plot: Before Pero Tovar and his friend William Garin set out in search of black powder, he found himself doing something he never thought he would - falling in love. But what waits for him as he returns from his adventure after all this time?

Mercenary!Pero x female reader

Warnings: Angst and grief, loss of virginity (it's all consensual and it's not the main trope of the fic), explicit smut. No use of y/n, the reader is pretty much a blank slate.

Word count: 7.9k

This is written for @burntheedges Roll-A-Trope Wiriting Challenge where I requested a trope for Pero Tovar and got Amnesia A big thank you to @i-own-loki for the lovely banner! What would I do without my Canva Pro friends!?

Marriage was not something that was ever on the cards for Pero Tovar. 

He left his hometown while he was still a young boy, and after that he never stayed long enough in one place to put down roots. Let alone find a woman who would want to throw her lot in with a mostly penniless mercenary soldier who relied on powerful lords always finding a new enemy to fight. Who would want a scarred battle dog with a permanent scowl and dangerous look to his appearance? And even if someone did, how could he care for a wife? A family? He moved from town to town, from country to country, seldom returning to the same place twice unless the pay was very good. 

But then, one autumn in southern England, when the fighting season was over and the mud was too thick for both men and horses to march in, something changed. He was no longer young but in his fighting prime, hardened, and hard, by years of fighting other men’s wars. He had no other plans than to spend the winter in this small English town with his friend William Garin, wait for spring and the call to arms for another war or rebellion or crusade. He was going to fill his belly, hone his weapons, train the younger men and spend his evenings with a whore or two, and that was it. 

Marriage was not on the cards. 

But fate wanted a different path for him. And you quite literally fell into his arms as you tumbled from your horse on the outskirts of the small town. 

“Curse that nag!” you yelled crossly, struggling to free yourself from his strong grip, “let go, I can stand on my own legs!” You pushed at his chest as the dark haired man let go of your waist, stepping back with a chuckle. 

“And what fine legs they are,” he said, his grin wide.  

You sneered at his comment, “Too fine for you either way.” 

You glared at him as you brushed your dress, “I should thank you, I guess. You saved me from a much greater fall, that stupid mare is spooked by the smallest twig and throws me twice a week at least.” 

With a sigh you looked at your horse who’d decided that the twig wasn’t an immediate threat and had begun to graze the last of the summer grass just a little while down the country lane. 

“If that’s the case, you best go and claim your horse before she decides one of farmer Ned’s cows has fangs and means to eat her,” Pero chuckled. He liked your spirit, and the way your eyes blazed as you glanced at him. 

“I wouldn’t put it past her,” you said with a shake of your head, “I best be off, thank you again, sir.”

Tovar gave a small nod and crooked smile at your retreating back. 

Later that evening, as he’d eaten and gone back to the room he shared with William, he wondered why the chance meeting on the country lane wouldn’t leave his head. He felt as if he might’ve been bewitched, one moment walking down the country lane on his way out to the smithy for a repair of his armour, the next he had a woman in his arms as her bay horse bolted down the road. You’d smelled of apples, a rich, sweet scent clinging to your hair as it brushed over his face when you both landed in the dust. The soft yield of your flesh under the rough linen dress, it was as if he’d put his hands on the softest down pillow, he’d wanted to grab hold of it and not let go. 

As you rushed away from him, scolding your skittish horse, he’d watched the way your hips swayed with each step, bright hair bouncing with frustration. You gripped the horse’s bridle and pulled it around, even at a distance he could see the way your nose crinkled in annoyance as you berated the poor animal. When your anger trickled out as quickly as it flared up, your face softened and you gently stroked the animal’s nose, giving its neck a pat before swinging yourself up into the saddle again. You caught him staring and gave him a quick smile, before turning again and nudging the horse into a slow trot. 

He’d made his way to the smithy and then back to the rooms he and William had rented for the winter. And when he laid down on his bed, the vision of you filled his head, soft curves, sweet smile, quick temper and a sharp tongue. He would very much like to see you again, be that close to you again.   

The next day was a Sunday and he joined William at the church for mass with the rest of the village. He let the familiar Latin incantations wash over him, the rituals the same here as in his hometown as it was in every other town he’d ever visited, irrespective of the country or the ruler. The power radiated from Rome and although the churches looked different, the rituals were the same and it brought a strange, albeit dull, comfort to him. 

When mass was over the congregation filtered out of the church, slow in leaving, catching up with neighbours and sharing gossip. Pero tried to scan the crowd surreptitiously but William caught his wandering eye. 

“Who are you looking for? The mysterious horse woman?” he asked, looking around at the villagers and the mercenaries who were wintering here just as they were. Pero had told him of the encounter, not being able to hide how you’d remained on his mind as he returned to the rooms. 

“I don’t remember seeing her here before,” Pero replied, trying to appear unphased, uncaring, as he continued to scan the open space in front of the church, but without success. When he couldn’t see her, he followed William back to their lodgings. The Lord’s day should be spent in rest and was not wise to anger the local priest. 

But Pero found himself too restless to sit still, fiddling with a troublesome chainmail. He left William to it and ventured outside instead, vying to find a secluded spot in the woods to get some practice in without being scolded by someone spotting him working on a Sunday. 

The autumn forest was golden, the air crisp and clear as the sky stretched endlessly blue above the trees as Pero wandered further in than he meant to. It felt good to be away from people, from the crowded town and the small rooms he shares with William. 

The clank of metal on wood reached his ears and he furrowed his brows, no one would be out here felling trees on a Sunday unless there was some strange business. He moved silently through the underbrush towards the sound, and came upon a clearing, drawing breath at the sight in front of him. You had stripped down to just your slip and a pair of men’s breeches, your arms bare and glistening with sweat as you raised the heavy sword and parried an imagined attack, and hit the thick beech trunk. The sword lodged in the wood and with a grunt you pulled it free, backing up a few steps and repeating the exercise. 

Pero watched you for a few minutes, your technique was good, someone has clearly taught you the basics, but the sword was too heavy for you. 

“You have some skills with that sword, señorita,” he called, just as you dropped your arm, letting the sword hang by your side as you took a deep breath. 

His voice made you jump and swing around, the sword quickly raised. 

“Do not worry, I mean you no harm,” he said, walking towards you with both his arms raised, “We’ve met before, with your troublesome mare.” 

“I remember,” you answered, the tone of your voice betraying your wariness as his sudden appearance, “What are you doing here?” 

“The same as you, señorita, I think,” he replied, “seeking a place away from unwelcome eyes to hone my skill on a Sunday.” 

Unclipping his cloak and satchel and placing them on a log near the edge of the clearing, he then turned and nodded at the sword in your hand. 

“You have some skill, but the sword is too heavy for you.” 

“What do you care?” you snapped at him, the sword still lifted as he approached. 

“I train the younger soldiers, when a sword is too heavy for the user, the technique suffers. And I hate to see a bad swordsman. Or woman.” 

With a fluid movement he pulled both of his swords from his back, the left one spinning in his hand, the handle held out towards you. 

“Let me show you, borrow my sword, it’s more lightweight.”

You regarded him with suspicion, not lowering your own sword. 

“Why do you want to help me?” 

“Why do I want to help a woman become a better fighter?” he countered, still holding out the sword to you, “Because those without swords can still die upon them. I learned that a long time ago. So better the women know how to fight too.” 

You regarded him with caution, the dark haired, dark eyed man with a strange accent and a menacing scar across his eye. But something in his face, the way he looked at you with a cocked eyebrow, encouraging you to take the sword he was still holding out to you, made your trepidation waver. Slowly you sheathed your own sword, and grabbed the handle of his. He gave you a crooked smile and a quick nod. 

“Good. Now show me what you can do.” 

With a quick movement he brought up his own sword and attacked, and you just about parried in time, the two swords ringing out through the empty forest as they met. 

Marriage was not something that was ever on the cards for him. But sometimes fate wills it differently. 

And before that Sunday afternoon in the forest, you’d never considered marrying someone either. At least not for any other reason than your father telling you that a man was needed to run the farm when he was gone. But the dark haired Spaniard with the scowling face, menacing and imposing, he was the one who made you see that marrying didn’t mean settling for one of the local boys. 

His dark eyes glittered with mischief as he taunted your sword skills, easily smacking your arm with the flat side of his blade as you failed to anticipate his next move in the early days of your training. But it was the way he smiled with pride when you managed to disarm him and put your blade to his neck, that smile made your heart melt. He was proud of you for a skill any other man you knew would shame you for, even attempt to lock you up for. It was like taking a deep breath of air for the first time, the way he treated you like an equal in a way no ever had before. 

It was mesmerising how a hardened soldier with such a menacing scowl could transform into the most handsome man you’d ever seen. It stunned you, and locked you in place, the first time you stood toe to toe with him, his back against a thick oak, your sword resting against his neck. Surprise flashed across his face first, then he smiled, his eyes shifting from the hard concentration of battle to soft warmth as his lips pulled up in a proud grin. 

“I knew there was a warrior in you,” he said, holding his sword arm up in defeat as you pulled the blade away from his neck, “with my training, you’ll beat almost any man.” 

“Almost any man?” you replied, your eyebrows lifting as you moved your hand and rested the blade against his neck again. 

Pero chuckled, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he looked down on you, glancing down his sharp nose as you made him tilt his head back again. 

“Any man, guerrera,” he smiled and again the pride in his voice made warmth and elation shoot through your body. 

Sweat was dripping from his forehead, you could feel the heat of him against you, the rise and fall of his chest, your own short breaths against him as an errant drop slipped over his lips and his tongue came out to catch it. Your eyes drifted to the pink tip as he licked his bottom lip, watching it disappear into his mouth again. When you looked up, his smile was gone, replaced by something more hungry, his eyes darker as they seemed to study your face. There was no need for you to be so close to him still, the fight over. But as he brought his hand up and carefully pushed your sword away from his neck, you only let your hand drop, not stepping back. You felt rooted to the spot with his eyes on you, the warmth of his body like a magnet to your own. 

“Señorita…” he almost growled, a half whisper from the back of his throat, as he slowly leaned closer, his eyes moving to your lips before his gaze fell on you again. Dark and warm, it was like being pulled in by the last of the dying embers of a fire. Pero glowed and burned hot under your palm as you put your hands on his neck and pulled him to you, your sword falling to the floor of the forest with a soft clatter. 

He wouldn’t let you go, and you clung to him just as eagerly, the dry leaves rustling as you pulled him down, he rolled you over, caging you in under his strong arms.

“Señorita…” he growled again, it was all he could press out before your lips found his, soft, pliant and sweeter than anything he’d ever tasted, addictive in the way they felt against his mouth, his jaw, his cheeks as you found new places to kiss him, your fingers winding through his hair, keeping him locked in place against your lips, taking as much as you wanted from him and he never once stopped you. 

He was lost. So utterly lost. And he’d never felt more at home. 

You plucked last year’s leaves from your hair and cloak all the way home that day. Pero followed you to the edge of the forest as always. But this time you pulled him behind a tree and made him press his hard body against you, pinning you against the trunk. The way he groaned into your kisses made your body heat up, your need for him growing with every slow roll of his hips, hands roaming to feel as much of him as you could, his hands kneading your hips and caressing your curves.

If your lips were swollen and your hair dishevelled, your father said nothing of it when you came home. When Pero came by one Sunday after church and asked permission to marry his daughter, he wasn’t surprised. 

There had been no war or rebellion to pull Pero away from you that year. William left, serviced under a local lord, but Pero stayed and put what little money he had left into buying the small farm next to your father’s. When the time came, the two could be merged and provide a good life for the two of you and any children that followed. When the small cottage was his by law, only then did he go to your father, who said yes without hesitation to the large Spaniard. 

“As if I could deny you the man you’ve clearly set your eyes on, even if he wasn’t a great, big hulking warrior,” your father had said later that same night after Pero had left, “With him in your house, I know you’ll be safer than with me. And if you truly love him too, well then I have no objections.” 

“I really do love him, with all his scowls and menacing looks, he is a very good man underneath it all, father.” 

There had been strange looks from the villagers, but that had hardly mattered. You’d always gone your own way, and marrying a dark haired outsider with a thick accent seemed to be something that the gossiping wives had expected of you. Either way, when you exchanged your vows outside the church on the intended day, you were surrounded by smiling faces, the old priest beaming down at you as you entered the church with Pero by your side to be blessed by by God.  

The feast lasted most of the day but by the late afternoon, you both left your father’s farm and was escorted by the priest, William and a few other villagers, to your new home, the cottage that Pero had worked so hard to turn into a home for you both. His first home since he left the place he was born, and now the place where he intended to live out the rest of his life as a happy man. When the marital bed had been blessed too, Pero closed the door to the cottage and you were alone as husband and wife for the first time. 

“Come here, husband,” you smiled at him as he turned back from the door. You didn’t need to beckon him, nothing would keep him away from you tonight, but you liked the sound of his new title - husband.

“Mi esposa,” he grinned as he crowded you against the sturdy oak bed he’d built with the aid of the local carpenter, “my wife, finally.” 

His eyes went soft, his mischievous grin replaced by a tender look as he cupped your face with his warm palms, “Never in my life did I think I’d call someone ‘my wife’, I never thought this was the way my life would be, and then I found you,” he ran his thumbs over your cheeks, leaning his forehead against yours as your breaths mingled, ”Te amo, mi amor,” he whispered. 

“I love you too, Pero,” you whispered back, your fingers finding his soft curls as you wrapped your arms around his neck. Gently he pushed you backwards, making you lay down on the bed, your bed, as he moved to cage you in under his arms and wide shoulders. Many training sessions in the forest had ended this way, time slipping away as you kissed each other breathless, but it had never gone further. You’d feel the thick weight of him pressed against your thighs, felt how he sometimes rolled his hips to seek a brief relief, but he'd always pull back.

“Amor, I won’t take you on the forest floor,” he’d muttered when you asked him to stop caring so much about your virtue, “I want you in a bed, our bed, when I’m your husband and you’re my wife.”

Now here you were, in your bed, and you called him husband as he slowly removed all your layers, caressing every sliver of skin that was revealed to him. He pressed kisses to your soft breasts, moaning as he felt them pebble under his touch, his strong nose trailed across the downy hairs of your belly, and when you giggled at the way his beard tickled, he nipped at the warm skin of your thighs. The thick slide of his tongue through your heated centre made you arch your back and gasp, your fingers scrambling for purchase in his hair. You could hear him chuckle against you, the tip of his nose circling the epicentre of your pleasure, he seemed to know this part of your body better than yourself and he soon had you moaning his name as you fought to catch your breath. 

When he had you drenched and dripping, he rested his head on your soft thigh and tapped your leg. 

“Amor, look at me,” he invited. Through half closed lids, clouded with pleasure, you watched him slide a finger through your liquid, coating it before he slowly pushed in. It slipped in easily, and when he curled it, caressing your insides, your eyes fell closed of their own volition. Suddenly you wanted more, more of his fingers, more of him and you whined, your hips rolling over his finger. 

“Please, Pero…” you whimpered, your voice hoarse and pleading. 

“What do you want, esposa,” he asked as he moved his finger gently back and forth, making you gasp again. 

“More…I think…more…” you mumbled and Pero smiled. Seeing you fall apart for him, slowly showing you how good he could make you feel, how he intended to spend every long winter evening, it filled him with a happiness he’d never felt before. It was like a hot burning fire inside his chest and it would keep him warm when he had to leave, he knew these memories would be the ones he returned to on long cold nights alone. 

“More?” he asked, “I can give you more, amor.” 

The smile in his voice made you look up at him as he moved to lie at your side, putting his arm under your shoulders and finding your lips with his own. As his tongue slipped inside your mouth, he gently pushed a second finger into your heat. He felt you arch up against him, whimpering into his mouth, your fingers digging into his arms as he slid his own in and out, setting your body on fire with every slow drag. 

He moved so slowly, it was like your body was turning into molten metal, heat flowed through you, all coming from where Pero’s fingers sunk into you. Your hips rolled of their own accord, your core clenching hard around him and a tension was building up inside you. But just as you felt as if you were about to snap, like a thread pulled too tight, Pero slipped his fingers from you and caressed your side, his hand leaving a sticky trail on your skin.

“Amor,” he mumbled, moving over your body so that he once again was caging you in, his warm, dark eyes glowing as he looked down at you, “Amor, I’m going to enter you now, tell me to stop if it hurts, you are so tight.”

You nodded and made room for him between your legs, you knew this might hurt, you’d heard the wives talk and the gossip. But no one had ever mentioned it feeling this good to be with a man, this aching need to be filled up by him. It had you panting with impatience, your core clenching around the emptiness left behind by his fingers. 

Pero kept his eyes locked on you as he coated himself with your silky liquid and lined himself up. Your brows furrowed as he pushed the thick head inside, and he dropped his forehead to yours, taking a deep breath. 

“Does it hurt?” he whispered, slowly rocking himself back and forth, just the tip moving inside you, and you shook your head. 

“No, it was just a little tight, I want more,” you replied, spreading your legs wider for him. He reached down and hooked your leg over his hip. 

“Squeeze me, pull me in if you want more,” he said, gritting his teeth as he felt your contract around him, fighting the urge to push in harder, “you feel so good, amor, so good to me.” 

Your legs wrapped around his waist and Pero rocked slowly, pushing in deeper with each short thrust. His face was pinched with concentration, his mouth half open as he licked his lips. With your arms wrapped around his neck, his forehead against yours, each breath you took was his and your world shrunk down to only Pero. Only his warm body above yours, his hips heavy between your legs, driving himself into you and creating ripples of pleasure through every fibre of your being with each thrust deep inside. Your eyes wanted to close but you forced them to stay open, to see your husband as he looked at you, his eyes hazy with lust, dark and burning, every movement making him groan as your body pulled him in. The tight string started to pull taught inside you again, your body moving against Pero’s, making him pick up his pace. 

“Amor, can you feel that?” he mumbled, his forehead still resting against yours, “can you feel your body getting ready to fall?” 

You nodded, it felt like a lightning storm ready to break, just over the horizon. Tightening your grip around his waist, you pulled him in and he understood, driving himself deeper, a little bit harder into your tight core. 

“Pero…” you gasped, your nails digging into his shoulders, and he grunted in response, his hand grabbing your leg and finding a new angle. 

“Amor, let me feel you come around me, give me this…” he panted, “the first time…I want it-”

Before he’d even finished you cried out under him, gripping him tight, your body trembling as the string snapped and lighting coursed through you, Pero’s thick cock driving hard into you, pushing your pleasure higher as he gasped and grunted. With a cry he broke, a loud groan, and he spilled himself inside, your legs like a vice around his waist as he rocked himself deeper. 

He was heavy on top of you, the warm sweat of his torso gliding against your own chest as you buried your face against his neck and took long, deep breaths. 

“Pero…my love…” you whispered softly into his ear, his wet kiss against your own neck was his exhausted response as he slowly came down from his high. Your arms were still wrapped tight around him, as were your legs, locking him in place. Not that he wanted to leave, he would stay here, in this bed, between your legs, until moss grew on him like an old boulder that no farmer could move. 

He was home. 

Endless miles stretched out behind them, thousands if they cared to count them. Pero did not. All he could see was the white cliffs in front of the ship, like a beacon, a sign that their long journey was finally coming to an end. 

They returned, not as poor as they’d set out, but not as rich as they thought they’d be, but the only thing that mattered to Pero was that he was returning. He’d fought with his friend, felt betrayed by him, even abandoned him in the end, so strong was his need to return home. It had almost cost him his life, caught by the very army he was trying to escape as he left William behind, brought back and then thrown in chains. He thought he’d die there, locked up in a dungeon, never seeing you again. 

It burned in his chest as the chains gnawed at his wrists, to never see you again, to leave you behind in this world without a word. He could see your face as he closed his eyes, conjured it up in his mind and remembered the tears clinging to your lashes as he pulled back one final time and turned for his horse. Riches or not, he was a damn fool for leaving you, he should’ve been content with what he had. 

In the end it was only by the grace of God, or maybe by William’s good heart, that he’d been freed by the very friend he’d betrayed and allowed to leave and make the long journey home. 

Now he stood on solid ground again, readying his horse for the final stretch home. 

Home. 

A word he’d never thought he’d be able to say and for it to mean something worth fighting for. A woman he loved. A house where he could keep her warm and protected. A place to raise a family. 

Home. He was going home. He knew he never should’ve left. 

The last ride was easy and he drove his horse fast, the afternoon barely past its prime as he saw the cottage at the end of the path, tucked in among the heavy oak trees. It looked well kept, but the door was shut tight and no animals roamed around the yard. 

“Mi amor!” he called, spurring his horse on for the last few yards, “Mi amor!” he called again as he swung himself from the saddle. 

But the door was shut tight and wouldn’t budge and a lap around the small house showed him that it was indeed as empty as it looked. He mounted his horse again, not yet uneasy, and set a fast pace down the lane, towards your father’s farm a mile through the forest. 

Here there was life at least, chickens in the yard, a dog pulling on its leash and the door open. Again he swung himself from the saddle, throwing the reins around the gate post and striding forward. 

“Stay back!”

Your sword was raised. Your sword? No, his sword, the one he’d left with you. Held up by you now, threatening him to not take another step forward. 

“Mi amor, it’s me, Pero,” he smiled, spreading his arms wide and taking long strides to you, wanting nothing more than to pull you into his arms and feel your soft body melt against his after so many months. 

“Stay back!” you snarled, taking a step back and settling into the fighting stance he’d taught you and Pero floundered, stopping in his tracks. 

“Amor…Have I changed that much? Don’t you know your husband?” 

“I don’t have a husband,” you replied, your sword still raised, “Now, leave before I set the dogs on you!”

Pero felt a cold dread rise in his chest, confusion clouding his mind, he didn’t understand why you didn’t know him and he dropped his arms, his face a pained mask. 

“Mi amor, it’s me, I left a year ago on a foolish mission, you were my wife when I left and I have fought so hard all this time to get back to you and…” he trailed off as your eyes showed no recognition, no flash of relief. Just a hard stare at him. 

“Tovar!” 

A voice called out, an elderly man coming around the corner of the cottage, his white hair in tufts around his ears and neck and his face concerned. 

“Tovar, it’s good to see you safe after all this time, my boy!” 

The man forced a pained smile at Pero before he reached you. 

“Daughter, lower your sword, he is a friend, he just hadn’t been past here in some time,” the old man put his hand on your arm and gently made you lower the sword, “Go inside and make sure the stew is not burning, I will speak with Tovar and join you shortly.” 

Pero looked on in confusion as you sheathed the sword, smiled at your father and turned back into the cottage. 

“John, tell me what’s going on, why does my wife not know me?” 

“Come with me,” he replied and gestured towards the edge of the farm yard, the low stone wall serving as a seat as he sank down. Pero remained standing, glancing back at the cottage. Part of him wanted to storm into the cottage and grab you, shake you and make you see him, see him, your husband. But John’s hand landed on his arm and pulled his attention back to the old man. 

“It began not long after you and William left, her memories have been slowly going and neither the priest nor the physician know why or what caused it.” 

“What do you mean, her memories are going? She doesn’t know me?” Pero gripped the handle of his sword, not a threat, just a comfort, to hold on to something familiar as he rubbed his thumb over the pommel, “I am her husband, she loves me, how can she forget me?” 

“I don’t know, Pero,” John sighed, rubbing his weathered hand over his face as he shook his head, “she just doesn’t. And it’s not just you, she seems to forget most new things from one day to the next, a new neighbour, the cow giving birth to a new calf, selling a few of the chickens, she just forgets,” he looked over at the cottage where a thin tendril of smoke rose slowly from the short chimney, “She remembers her childhood, her brother and mother dying, after that it all becomes hazy.”

John looked up at Pero again and Pero could see the toll the past year had taken on his father-in-law as pain flashed across his face, his usually bright eyes sunken and dark. 

“I’m sorry, son, she doesn’t even remember meeting you, nothing of your life together, and not you leaving.” 

It hits him like a dagger to the chest, piercing in its pain and wrenching his chest open; he left, she begged him not to, but he left and this is his punishment. Her mind is protecting her from the pain he caused. With a groan he turns around, sinking down on the wall, his head buried in his hands, it feels as if his throat is closing up, a sob tearing its way up, like broken glass cutting him open. 

“I left her,” he groaned, choking around his words, “She begged me not to go, that last night before I left, and I thought I had to and left her anyway. I broke her heart and this is my punishment, her mind has removed me from her so she doesn’t have to live with my betrayal.” 

“Son…” John said, his voice choking too, but he put his hand on the younger man’s shoulder, “We do not know the will of the Lord, you did what you thought was best.” 

The hand on Pero’s shoulder burned like fire, guilt over taking him and he stumbled to his feet, shaking off the other man’s grip with a shrug. 

“I’ll leave, it’s for the best,” he replied, striding towards his horse without looking back, his jaw tight around his words, “Take care of her for me.” 

“Tovar, wait,” John called after him and hurried to his feet. He grabbed the reins of the horse just as Pero swung himself into the saddle, “She loves you, still. I know she does, she just needs to remember you.” 

“Remember how I broke her heart and left her? What kind of a husband was I? No,” Pero shook his head and gathered the reins, making John let go of them, “Let her have a good life without me.” 

The door of the cottage creaked as he spoke the last words, making him look up towards it. You were standing in the opening, an empty water bucket in your hand, your eyes on him. 

“Are you really my husband?” you asked, glancing over at your father, but finding Pero’s eyes again. Pero felt his throat close up again as he saw the way you looked at him, a complete stranger, not a trace of recognition. 

He just nodded in response, not trusting his voice. 

“He is, my dear,” John replied in his stead,  “Do you remember me telling you about him when your mind first started to go?” 

You shook your head at that, your eyes still on Pero. 

“I’m leaving,” he said, a deep furrow in his brow as he ruefully shook his head, “I caused you both enough hurt.” He nudged his horse to turn around, walking it through the gate and out onto the road, avoiding John’s look of pity.  

“Wait!” 

The call came just as he was about to spur his horse on, away from your empty stare. 

“Wait,” you called, hurrying after him, stopping as he halted his horse and turned in the saddle. You came up to stand by its neck, looking up at him, “Stay at least the night, I…I know I lost so many memories, but...if you’re my husband then you should stay, maybe something will come back.” 

“No,” he shook his head, looking away from you and down the road, “I caused too much harm, I don’t want you to have to relive the pain I caused you.” 

“Please, my life has been cut in half, I can’t remember it, but I know something big is missing. I will gladly take the pain again if I can have the rest of my life back,” you put your hand on his horse’s neck, tilting your face up to him as you waited for his reply, “Please.” 

He couldn’t resist looking down at you and he felt his resolve weaken as your eyes met his. Such a familiar face, the one he loved so deeply. The colour of your eyes was seared into his mind, the small imperfections on your cheeks that he’d mapped with his lips so many nights, the shape of your perfect nose that he’d traced with his calloused fingers when you complained that it was all wrong. So many long, cold nights, picturing this face in his mind’s eye as he tried to do what he thought was right, the desperate moments when he thought he wasn’t coming back to you at all. Facing monsters from nightmares in overwhelming numbers, even as he fought for his life, this face was floating before him. You were the one he was fighting so hard to get home to. 

Now you were looking back at him, pleading with him, and he knew he had no choice. The last time he denied your request, he’d almost lost his life and you’d lost your memories of him. He would stay. The pain he would feel at seeing you look at him like a stranger would be a small price to pay compared to the pain he’d put you through with his greed and stubbornness. 

He gave you a nod, a short movement of his head as you held his gaze. He searched in vain for a glimmer of recognition, a flash of the woman you were before he left, but there was nothing. Just a small, uncertain smile as you dropped your hand from his horse’s neck and took a few steps back. 

“Thank you,” you mumbled, glancing back at your father, “my father will be glad to have you with us too, he’s probably tried to make me remember you so many times.” 

Pero slid off the back of his horse and took hold of the reins as he turned to you. His rough fingernails dug into the palm of his hand as he clenched his fist, the familiar scent of your skin washing over him as he got closer. He could feel every bone in his body aching to reach out and pull you into his arm, bury his nose in the soft skin of your neck and breathe you in, feel your hands on him again. He could feel himself torn in two; the urge to bolt when you took a step back from him, the need to stay near and never leave again. 

“Amor…” he mumbled, tearing his eyes away from you as you took another step back, the pain and emotion plain on his face. 

“I’m…I’m sorry…” you whispered, “I don’t know what that means…” 

For a few moments you looked at him as he refused to meet your eyes again, his gaze wavering as his hand closed around the reins of his horse. His knuckles were pulled taught, the tension in his still form clear, and you took another step back. 

“Please, put your horse away and I’ll heat up water for you to wash. Father said you’ve travelled far, you must be weary. There's good stew cooking too,” you raised your hand and gently put it on the neck of his horse, “Come, please.” 

He followed you into the house once he’d put the horse away, your father leaving to bring the small herd of cows in for the evening. Water was heating over the fire and you mixed it with the cooler water from the barrel as Pero stepped over the threshold with his heavy saddle bags by his side. 

“You live with your father now,” he said, a statement rather than a question, but you nodded, wiping your hands and turning to the stew pot. 

“Yes, well, I don’t remember living anywhere else but he tells me the cottage down the road is where I lived before…” you trailed off, putting your hand to your temple as your brow furrowed, screwing up your eyes as if trying to search for a memory. Pero shifted by the door and you turned to him with a surprised look on your face. 

“I-I guess…that’s where we lived?” you asked and a look of anguish flashed across his face. 

“Yes….yes, we lived there,” he replied, still holding his heavy bags, looking like he was almost on the verge of leaving again. “We moved there on our wedding day and I… Do you ever visit it now?” 

You shook your head but hesitated, “Never…but maybe I have been back, but I forget from one day to the next, I know it’s there but if I see it now, it’s like I see it for the first time.” 

Pero dropped his bags on the floor and rubbed his hand over his face, his shoulders slumped as if under a tremendous weight. 

“Amor…” he said to the floor before looking up at you again, “I don’t know if I can do this. We lived there, you and me, they were the happiest days of my wretched life, and now it’s all been taken from us. You look at me like a stranger and I can’t stand it.” 

You didn’t know what to say, the man in front of you was a stranger, nothing in his voice or face was familiar. The only reason you asked him to stay was your father telling you he was your husband, and that feeling in your chest of something missing, that empty space in your mind, a big piece of your life’s memories missing. 

“I’m sorry…” you said again, but he shook his head. 

“Don’t. It’s my fault, I did this to you. And I’m staying until you tell me to leave.” 

“I might not remember you in the morning,” you said, “I often forget meeting new people.” 

New people

It cut through him like the sharpest blade. He’s ‘new people’ to you now, not your husband, or even a friend. Just a stranger in your house. 

He nodded at the large bowl that you’d filled with water, “I’ll get cleaned up now, do you want me to go outside?” 

The cottage was familiar, he’d spent much time here before the wedding, and not much had changed in the year he’d been gone. It had only two rooms, and he presumed you were sleeping in the bed nook against the back wall, your father in the other room. The small cottage didn’t hold much space for privacy. 

You shook your head and turned back to the fire, “I’ll keep my back turned, I need to watch the stew.” 

He stared at you for a beat, the achingly familiar shape of your shoulders, your hips and the way you cocked one out to the side as you leaned forward over the large pot. How many times hadn’t he come up behind you, run his hands over your soft shapes, pushed your hair to the side and pressed kisses to your neck as you giggled at the way his beard tickled your skin. Now you stood with your back to him to not see as he pulled off his clothes, something you’d done to him almost every night. Unlaced his shirt, pulled it from his breeches and caressed his skin with your soft hands. 

The dirty shirt dropped to the floor with a soft sound and you heard him wring the washcloth as you added the last of the herbs to the stew. You couldn’t help yourself, you glanced over your shoulder and stole a look at him. He was a stranger, but supposedly your husband, and either way, he was handsome. Under that layer of grime and sweat, he was a striking man, unlike any you’d ever seen. Or, at least, unlike anyone your mind would let you remember. So you glanced back at him and was struck almost dumb by the sight. Broad shoulders, a muscular back tapering into narrow hips where his breeches hung low as he rubbed the washcloth over his abdomen. 

The back of his neck was tanned golden, his back lighter and marred by a long scar that shone bright in the dim light. It looked like a painful injury, old and long since healed over, and you wondered if he’d ever told you what had happened to him. Had you run your fingers over as he told you the story? You realised you must’ve spent countless nights next to this man in your marital bed, his hands on you, your hands on him. This man, this stranger in your father’s house, would know you better than anyone else, every inch of your body and your most intimate secrets. 

As if he could sense your eyes on him, he glanced back over his shoulder and met your eyes, and he seemed to hold his breath for a moment. Then he turned fully to face you, the washcloth forgotten in his hand. 

“Amor…” he whispered and you bit back a sudden sob. His eyes were so hopeful, you wanted nothing more than to remember him, to have all the memories of him flood back into your mind as he dropped the washcloth and took two quick steps across the floor. 

“I don’t remember,” you sobbed as his arms wrapped around you, “I don’t remember anything about you.” 

He didn’t say anything, but he didn’t let you go. Instead he let you sob against his chest, holding you close as he rested his chin on your head. His heart was beating wildly, thrumming so hard you could hear it as you pressed your cheek against him, and even though he was a stranger, his arms felt safe around you, the scent of his skin comforting and soothing. 

With a small movement he rubbed your back, slowly up and down, “It will come back, amor, it will. And if it doesn’t, I will make you fall in love with me again and tell you about all the memories we have.” 

You nodded against his chest, your sobs subsiding, but you didn’t pull away from him, and he didn’t let his arms drop. He held you just as tight, reluctant to give up the feeling of having you in his arms again after all he endured to get back to you. 

“Although…I’m still not sure how I made a woman like you fall in love with a reckless mercenary like me, how will I manage that again?” he said, a small smile to his voice and you looked up at him. He’d lifted his chin from your head and was looking at you with a sad smile, tears clinging to his dark lashes. 

“Promise me you’ll try,” you said, your voice low and broken. 

“Every day for the rest of my life, amor,” he whispered, “I will make you fall in love with me again and then we can make all those memories one more time.” 

A/N - I hope you enjoyed this bitter sweet little story! Bonus points to anyone who caught the LotR reference :)

Tagging some of my fellow Pero lovers:

@nerdieforpedro @din-cognito @harriedandharassed @morallyinept @inept-the-magnificent

@mysterious-moonstruck-musings @lady-bess @angiewatson @cozylittlepigeon @604to647

@survivingandenduring @for-a-longlongtime @gnpwdrnsnshine @wintersquirrel @grogusmum

[angiechia]

"Little Brother"

John joins the gang

No ship intended, just a short random thing i wrote instead of sleeping :P

☆☆☆

Some random day in 1885

The day had been awful for Arthur.

It started with some promise, as Hosea suggested a job robbing a dressmaker in Saint Denis. Arthur agreed without realizing he'd end up running from three huge dogs guarding the lady’s house like loyal bodyguards, ready to bite and tear anyone who got too close. Meanwhile, Hosea was "distracting" the lady—if you could even call it that. It looked more like he was courting her.

After all that, Arthur’s cut was only 10 dollars. Not much, he thought, but he had no choice but to take it. He decided to blow off some steam at a saloon, where some fellow tried to pull a fast one on him and picked a fight. With his ego far too big for a man of just 22, Arthur accepted the challenge, even though the drunk was twice his size.

After getting beaten up, Arthur was in a foul mood. The only thing that might calm him down was a ride out in the open, so that’s what he did.

For some reason, he chose to ride through the Bayou, a place known for its giant gators and treacherous swamps. Lucky for him, Boadicea was a brave mare—brave against gunfire, hunters, and even ferocious wolves. But gators? They scared the hell out of her, which Arthur learned when a sleeping gator spooked her. She threw him off, sending him tumbling into the mud, and he had to scramble away from the reptile, who had just been trying to get some sleep.

After that, Arthur figured he’d distract himself by picking up a newspaper from a kid selling them in Rhodes. Maybe there’d be something interesting going on. But his heart sank when he read the newlyweds section and saw a name he knew too well.

Mary Gillis had gotten married.

Or rather, Mary Linton now.

He let out a deep sigh and threw the paper in the trash, anger boiling inside him. That’s it, he thought, I’m heading back to camp. I need some sleep.

Luckily, nothing much happened on his ride back to camp. If he was fortunate, he’d get to feast on Pearson’s stew tonight, and Miss Grimshaw would probably make him take a good soak in the nearest river.

When he arrived, he left Boadicea with the other horses and tried to sneak over to his tent, hoping to avoid Hosea, Dutch, Grimshaw, or Pearson. They were always asking favors, and being the youngest in the gang, that burden often fell on him.

“There you are, Mister Morgan!” Miss Grimshaw’s voice called out. He sighed. “I was just about to ask if you could fetch me a—My word! What in the world happened to you?” the woman exclaimed, seeing him covered in mud.

“…I fell” Telling her his horse threw him off seemed a bit embarrassing, right?

“Sure looks like it… Let me see—” She moved in quick to grab his hat, probably planning to clean it up and send him off to wash, but Arthur stepped back, gently pushing her hands away. Nobody touched his hat.

“Whoa there! I reckon I’m just fine, Miss Grimshaw. Just need a little sleep.”

“You smell like you’ve been rollin’ in a cesspool, young man! I ain’t havin’ you stinkin’ up the camp. Get yourself cleaned up, you hear?” Her voice took on a sharper edge, and Arthur rolled his eyes, heading toward the river.

“Just what I needed,” he muttered, tossing his jacket on the ground. Miss Grimshaw snatched it up with a huff, planning to wash it later.

His bath was quick but did the trick, and once he was cleaned up, he headed back to camp.

“Much better, Arthur!” she said with a clap of approval as he walked past her, making him feel a bit sheepish. Once again, he made for his tent, but before he could enter, another voice stopped him.

“Mr. Morgan!” It was Pearson, the camp cook.

Arthur let out another weary sigh and made his way over to the “kitchen,” if you could call it that. “Mr. Pearson,” he greeted, his tone dry.

“I’ve had a hankerin’ for some rabbit lately,” Pearson said as he skillfully chopped vegetables. Dinner was close, the sun sinking fast.

“Rabbit?”

“Yep! Them big ones you find out on the prairies. Think you could hunt me some for tomorrow?”

At least he didn’t need it now. “Sure,” Arthur agreed, giving a nod before turning once more toward his tent. Just as he was about to step inside, he was intercepted by...

“There ya are, Arthur!” Dutch Van Der Linde.

"Now what, Dutch?" Years of trust between them allowed for a more relaxed exchange.

"Son, I heard about Mary..."

"No."

"I know, I know, Arthur. You probably don’t wanna talk about her, but… well, I remember how much you cared."

"Dutch," Arthur grumbled, feeling his face flush with embarrassment.

"What I’m tryin’ to say is there’s plenty of women out there, son, plenty! You can find another."

Arthur got angry, pushing open the tent flaps without stepping inside yet. "Mary’s in the past!" he lied. "It doesn’t hurt 'cause I’m over it, and I don’t want another woman, thank you!" His tone betrayed him.

Arthur entered his tent and let the canvas flaps fall behind him, shutting Dutch out. He ran his hands over his face in frustration, cursing silently while quickly untying the bandana from his neck and shrugging off his suspenders. That’s when he heard something coming from his bed—a snore.

Arthur fumbled around his desk until he found the gas lamp and lit it. As the tent filled with light, his eyes landed on a kid with dark hair sprawled out awkwardly on his bed, uncovered, mouth open, drooling on his pillow with crooked teeth.

"And why in the hell is there a damn kid in my bed?!" Arthur bellowed from inside the tent, waking the boy with a start.

"Ah, that’s John," Dutch replied from outside. "Hosea and I rescued him today; they were gonna hang him."

"Wha... what’s goin' on?" the boy, around twelve years old, mumbled, his face barely masking the confusion as he looked up at the man before him.

"And you gave him my bed?!" Arthur got out from his tent, incredulity etched across his face, while Dutch beamed like he’d done the best deed of the day.

"Well, we didn’t think you’d be back so soon. You took your time."

"Well, here I am. But who’da thought we’d turn into a damn orphanage and start adoptin’ brats?"

"What’d you call me, old man?!" the kid hollered from behind him.

Arthur, surprised, turned slowly to face John, repeating what he’d just heard. "Old man? Old man?! I’m twenty-two!"

"Yeah, twenty-two in each foot. You’re older than a barrel of aged whiskey."

Arthur resisted the urge to pounce on the quick-tongued kid. "Who do you think you are, you little...?"

"But ain't this a heart-warmin’ sight?" Dutch chimed in with a smile. "He’s just like you were when we found you."

"At least I respected my elders," Arthur shot back, glaring at the kid sprawled in his bed. "Outta my bed, now!"

"I ain’t movin’ nowhere, old man!" John retorted.

"Oh, come on, Arthur, the boy’s exhausted. You know what it’s like to be nearly hanged? First, they tighten that noose 'round your neck so hard you can barely breathe, and when they hang you, crack, your neck snaps. Poor little John must’ve been scared outta his wits."

Arthur glanced at the kid again, who now put on a pitiful face, nodding along.

"This is a joke, right?" Arthur said, exasperated.

"You wouldn’t mind sleepin’ under the stars tonight, would ya?" Dutch asked.

Arthur looked at the man, then at the kid, sighed, and said, "Just… don’t touch my stuff," with a stern voice.

"Relax, I won’t touch your junk," little John said innocently as he settled back into bed.

"Little shit..." Arthur muttered under his breath as he walked out of the tent. He looked at Dutch. "He ain’t gonna be in my tent long, is he?"

"Well… you wouldn’t mind sharin’ it, would ya?"

"DUTCH!"

"Oh, quit your whinin’, Arthur! The boy can’t sleep alone. We don’t know if he’ll try to rob us or slit our throats in our sleep."

"And you’re makin’ me watch him?"

"You’re the youngest of the gang, ain’t you? Or, well… you were." Arthur gave him a hard look. "Look on the bright side; it’s like you got yourself a little brother."

[elliaze]

Weightless

Parring: Joel Miller x fem!reader

Warnings: Joel and reader are neighbors, age gap (Joel is 10 years older), no!outbreak, reader has 23 years old, Sarah is here but only mention, neighbors-to-friends-to-idiots-in-love-trope?, protective!Joel, they are head over hills to each other, but Joel think he's to old for her, mostly fluff but with a little heart-break,

Summary: Joel goes to the bar when Y/N is working and then something happens.

Word Count: +2700

Divider by @cafekitsune

MASTERLIST

Y/N was twenty-three when she fell in love. 

Or had it lasted much longer? 

It was hard to tell, because Joel Miller had been in her life almost from the beginning. First, as an annoying adult neighbour. She loved to play pranks on him when she was a child. He had always threatened to tell her parents, but she knew that had never happened. Later, as she grew up, that same annoying neighbour suddenly became an exceptionally handsome neighbour. It had been a time when she had paid no attention to boys her own age, thinking they were complete idiots. It was also a time when she had gone from being an ordinary girl next door to being Sarah’s babysitter, especially when Joel and his brother couldn’t take care of the little girl. Y/N remembered how she would blush every time she passed Miller, especially when he started talking to her about something other than how his beloved daughter was doing. She thought that her crush on her older neighbour was just a result of her teenage years. She thought that would pass.

A few years later, it didn't. On top of that, everything got more complicated because she and Joel started to be friends. He didn't treat her like a child, although he could, especially since he saw her in every, even the most embarrassing, moment and witnessed her running around the yard with two pigtails and pink tights that always ended up dirty with mud. She knew that she could rely on him, sometimes much more than on her so-called friends. And she wanted it to work both ways, but sometimes she had the impression that there were moments when he looked at her through the prism of the age difference.

“Beer and a hamburger for my favourite customer,” she said cheerfully, placing a plate of food and a bottle of alcohol on the table. Taking advantage of the fact that she finally had a free moment during her shift, she took a seat opposite Joel. “Hard day?”

“Tiring, and I really don't want to go home so soon because…”

“Sarah's staying over at a friend's” she finished for him, recalling her morning conversation with the girl. “She mentioned something to me, that they'll be watching movies and eating sweets. It is quite a pleasant prospect.”

“Maybe you should follow her example and rest yourself.”Joel pointed at her and took a quick sip of his beer. “Which shift is it? Eight? Nine?”

“Ten.”

“Even better. Honey, you're too young to work yourself to death.”

“I guess it's a good thing I have the whole day off tomorrow. And I'm going to lie around and do nothing, but only after our breakfast together. Because I hope it's still relevant?”

“You ask as if you haven't dropped by our house and eaten the fridge in years.”

“Hey!” She laughed and pulled a pen out of her apron. She threw it at the man, who leaned back at the last moment and snorted with laughter. “That's called slander, Miller. Watch out, or I'll tip you twice.”

“I could even pay triple for your company.”

Joel winked at her, and she blushed at his words anyway. She tried to cover it up by fixing her hair, but she still thought he must have noticed. Whatever that meant, she must have forgotten about it, because the door to the bar opened and a drunk man entered. The smile fell from her face as she recognized him as a customer she genuinely hated. He always hit on, even harassed, all the waitresses. Normally she could handle him, but now that she saw that he was clearly drunk, she had a bad feeling.

“What's going on?” Joel asked with concern, then glanced over his shoulder at the new man who had just taken a seat a few tables away. “Who's that? Do you know him?”

“Unfortunately. He's one of our customers who... Let's just say he really likes to pick on all the girls at work. I hate him, but I have to serve him.”

“I'll be here if anything. Just let me know and…”

“Thanks, but take care of your burger. I'm not going to serve him anyway because he's drunk.”

“Just be careful, okay?”

“When I'm not,” Y/N replied teasingly and stood up from her seat.

She slowly made her way to the occupied table. When she turned around for a moment to see if Joel had listened to her, she shook her head in amusement. She could have expected that the only person he listened to was himself and did only and exclusively what he thought was right. At least that's how she preferred to explain his intense gaze on her, so as not to get her hopes up too high. 

However, getting the client turned out to be much more difficult than she thought. The initial texts and comments might have seemed funny, but when his behaviour began to become aggressive and intrusive, she began to lose patience. It wasn't the first time she had been in such a situation, so she knew how to behave. She had learned a long time ago that being a woman, she was doomed to this type of behaviour. She could endure a pat on the butt or other such gestures, but when he started calling her names and raised his hand to hit her, she completely froze in place. Not only that, but she was paralysed and if not for Joel's quick reaction, she would probably have ended up with a mangled face.

Miller pushed her back and grabbed the drunk man by the collar of his shirt. He lifted him up, and as he continued to argue and fight, Joel struck him first. It all happened so quickly that all Y/N could do was watch in shock and fear as the two men exchanged blows, chairs were overturned, and table decorations were smashed. Eventually, however, it all passed, and Joel walked over to her and grabbed her by the arms.

“Hey, talk to me,” he said calmly, as if he hadn't been in the fight just minutes before. “Y/N?”

“Everything's okay,” she assured him, and to confirm her words, she patted his shoulders. It was then that she saw how bloody and raw his hands were. “You're hurt! Oh, my God, Joel!”

“It's nothing,” he waved his hand dismissively. “Are you closing up now? You've got enough to survive for one day.” 

She just nodded.

Their trip was silent. Y/N could feel the fatigue and emotions of the last few events creeping up on her. She longed to go to bed and forget about it, especially since she was going to have to talk to her boss about what had happened when she got back from her day off. She had already informed her about it over the phone, and she was genuinely surprised because she had no complaints.

Joel parked his car in the driveway and turned off the engine. She looked at the windows in her house and saw that the light was on in her parents' room, which meant they were probably getting ready for bed. They had long since stopped waiting for her when she came back from her evening shifts, especially when Joel was the one who came to pick her up.

“Thank you for what you did.” Joel began to shake his head, as if her words were unnecessary, but she turned to him and put her hand on his shoulder. “It's true, Joel. I thought I was doing pretty well with him, but when he raised his hand to hit me, I completely panicked, and if it weren't for you, I would have…”

She didn't even want to think about what would have happened if she had been there alone.

“Any other guy would have done the same thing.”

“Maybe, but you didn't hesitate for a second. Whenever I need your help, you drop almost everything and help me. I hope you know how much that means to me.”

“If you’re trying to get me to make some tearful confessions, you’re doing a pretty good job,” he joked, and she shook her head in amusement. “Go home. Get some rest.”

“Oh no! Joel Miller, you saved me today, so let me repay you.” The man raised an eyebrow at her, and she pointed to his mangled hands. “Now it’s my turn to help you. You know I’ll treat those wounds like a professional nurse.”

“I know, because you’ve done it with Sarah so many times. Fine, but then you’re going straight home for a good night’s sleep.”

“I’m a grown woman and I can take care of myself, you know?”

“It’s hard to tell when you were running around the yard with two pigtails and pink tights just a few years ago.”

She rolled her eyes and got out of the car.

When she entered the Millers’ house, she felt at home. Sometimes she even considered this place her second home, because she spent almost as much time there as she did in her family's house. She didn't know what it had to do with it, but Joel's house had always been an oasis of warmth and love for her. She loved her parents and the fact that they provided her with everything they could, but because she was raised alone, she often felt lonely there. Here, she always knew she would find someone to talk to or watch some stupid movie. Mostly it was Sarah, whom she loved taking care of, but Tommy and Joel would show up just as often. She especially loved the moments when the four of them spent time together. To some, she might have been an outsider to the Miller family, but with them, she never felt that way. 

Y/N quickly found the things she needed and went back to the living room, where Joel was waiting for her on the couch. He was sitting sprawled with his head up, and she stopped for a moment to watch him. She had long thought he was handsome, but she had the impression that with each passing year he looked even better. She could see that he was as tired as she was, but even now she could imagine sitting on his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck and pressing their lips together. Her infatuation was dangerous, and she was fully aware of it. But she wouldn't be able to break what connected her to Joel. She preferred their strange, friendly relationship to nothing.

“Don't fall asleep, old man,” she said jokingly, walking over to the couch he was sitting on. Joel straightened up, making room for her next to him.

“I'm not old enough to be called that.”

“I'll remind you when I see first grey hair.”

“Mine or yours?”

She laughed merrily and then began to bandage his hands. The only sounds in the room were quiet hisses and moans, but Y/N still had the impression that Joel could hear her loudly beating heart. She did everything she could to focus on her task as much as possible, but the man's proximity was definitely distracting for her. She suspected that it might have something to do with what had happened. Emotions still clung to her, even if she had already come to terms with it. 

But now she seemed to feel Joel's presence next to her more strongly. They had been in such situations more than once, but at this moment she was holding back with the last bit of willpower not to do something stupid.

“It's done,” she said after a short while with complete satisfaction. “I hope it heals quickly.”

“After such professional help?” 

“Professional and completely free,” she emphasised, and began to clean up all the things. She wanted to get up, but Joel grabbed her hand and stopped her in her tracks.

“Leave it and sit down. You're exhausted and you just bandaged my wounds. You don't have to clean up yet.”

“Oh, okay,” she sighed quietly. She leaned back against the couch, defeated, and felt a shiver as their shoulders touched. “Are you thinking about something specific?”

“No. What about you?”

“Nothing specific either.”

Joel snorted and looked at her with amusement. She thought she was crazy, because otherwise she couldn't understand how she leaned over Miller and placed a short kiss on his lips. She wasn't even sure if she should call it a kiss, because their lips only touched lightly before she pulled away. But those few seconds allowed her to get to know his taste, and she knew that nothing tasted as intoxicating as his lips. It wasn't her first kiss in her life, but for a moment, that's exactly how she felt.

“I'm sorry, I shouldn't have,” she began with flushed cheeks.

Then something happened that completely surprised her. Joel didn't answer, but grabbed her by the waist and pulled her closer. Then he connected their lips together in a longer and definitely confident kiss. Without thinking, she opened her lips wider, giving him better access and at the same time allowing him to take control of the whole situation. She felt like her ears were buzzing, and her heart wanted to jump out of her chest. The whole world had stopped, and her biggest dream was coming true.

She tangled her fingers in his hair and moaned quietly when he gently bit her lip. Joel grabbed her by the waist and sat her on his lap. Holding her hips tightly, he guided her to where he needed her the most. He growled right into her mouth, and then his hands moved up. Y/N felt a shiver run through her body as she felt his touch on her. But she wanted more and cursed everything that they were still wearing clothes at the moment. When she thought about it, her fingers almost immediately went to the buttons of his shirt. When she unbuttoned the first one, she waited a moment, because as much as she wanted this to continue, she had to be sure that he wanted it too.

Joel didn't push her away, but continued. His hands quickly found their way to her shoulders. He pulled the straps of her tank top to the side, so that the outline of her breasts and the black bra she was wearing were visible from under the material. He kissed her jaw, then her neck, and she gasped loudly as he sucked in the extremely sensitive skin by her ear. At the same time, she unbuttoned the buttons on his shirt, until she could finally feel his warm skin under her fingers. His chest rose and fell, and she traced short patterns on his torso and sides with her fingers. She ran her nails down his back and slowly moved her hips forward and back, feeling the bulge in his pants, which she was sure was starting to bother him more and more. 

“Joel,” she murmured in his ear as she felt him squeeze her breast, then slip his thumb under the material of her bra. “Please…”

She didn't know what exactly she was asking for. She wanted him to finally take off her shirt, so she could feel his touch better. She wanted to feel his hands and lips all over her. She was completely lost for him and didn't think about whether they were doing the right thing or what would happen next.

But the last thing she wanted was for Joel to pull away from her.

“We can't,” he said in a hoarse voice, resting his forehead against hers. He held her around the waist, but not as tightly as before. “We got carried away.”

“What?” she asked, not believing what she was hearing.

Miller smiled and, as if nothing had happened, sat her back down on the couch next to him.

“Go home and rest. We'll talk some other day.”

He kissed her on the cheek, then stood up and headed up the stairs to his bedroom.

She didn't quite know what was going on, and it took her a few good minutes to pull herself together and get things in order. Her ears were still ringing, she could feel his touch on her body, but she couldn't get over the fact that she had been pushed away at the most crucial moment. She clenched her fists tightly and promised herself that tomorrow they would sort it all out. She had to know if this little moment meant as much to him as it did to her.

[spacebaby1]

Greetings.

May I request for an Ace x f!reader fanfic childhood sweethearts? I find them adorable. Ace is 10. Reader can be 9. Headcanons about the two? Thanks also some angst in there. Thank you.

If you dont want to do this just reply back as a no. I get paranoid when people don't answer back in a long time.

Thanks and sorry If I bothered you or annoyed you.

I love Ace's requests! I love writing for him😭💕I had so much fun writing this, sorry it's late but enjoy!

Living in a small village meant that there weren't many people that you weren't familiar with however there was one boy that you'd always notice every once a while and he wasn't like most of your friends nor like rest of the kids.

Ace, you knew he was a year older than you from what you heard from the neighbourhood kids talking about how odd he was. He kept to himself, he seemed angry and scared many of the kids his age away, and the only friends that he had was the "top hat kid" named Sabo that one day showed up out of nowhere.

It was a sunny morning and since it rained the night before the morning was bright and the smell of rain made you excited to leave the house to play near the woods since there wasn't much homework left for you to do. Skipping your way towards the woods, you played alone and went a bit deep in the sunny woods to discover new plants and flowers since it was one of your favourite things to do. You lived in a village surrounded by unique plants, which made you curious and fell in love with nature. As you were looking at the small blue flower and trying to find the page in your book about the flower, you heard a sound of someone talking. Putting the book back in your bag, you made your way into the woods following the sound of laughter and talking until you stood behind the tree. Peeking from behind the huge tree to find Ace and his friend sabo sitting on top of one of the trees talking about something but the only things you heard were "pirate" "ship." It wasn't like you to spy on anyone, especially Ace, because he scared you the most from the way he looked and how he acted. You stepped back only to step on a tree branch, which made a cracking sound that caught both Ace and sabo's attention. You gasped, not trying to get caught or get in trouble with them, so you did the first thing you thought of; you ran. Not knowing it was you, they both started to chase after you as you terrifying sprinted away as far as your little feet could only to trip over your own feet and falling flat on your face. Just when you sat up, you turned to find the shocked face or Ace and Sabo thanking that they will beat you up like the bullies you often saw in school you started to cry.

Rubbing your tears away, you waited for them both to hit you. However, it never happened. Sabo was holding back his laughter while Ace cringed at the sight of you crying, and he noticed the cut on your knee. With a sigh, he knelt to your level on the muddy ground and slowly pulled your hands of your face to find your tears filled eyes and face covered in mud from the fall. You blinked the tears looking at him, "Are you hurt? Why are you crying?" Ace asked, feeling weird with the familiarity of learning to be nice to others. He was trying to learn the past few weeks. He whipped the mud off your face with the back of his shirt sleeve, "did you hurt your face? Can you stand?" You shook your head feeling the numbness in your knee. He sighed and helped you stand. Sabo giggled. "That's what you get for spying, kid." Ace looked at him and shook his head as if telling him not to make you more scared than you already are. "Come on, I can give you a piggyback ride to home." Ace waited for you to hop on his back as you sat there holding your bag close to your chest. You blinked twice before Ace looked at you again and motioned for you to get on his back, "Sabo can hold your bag, sabo?" Sabo immediately forwarded his hands happily, and you waited before handing him your bag, which he threw over his shoulder, and Ace gave you a piggyback ride home. They didn't wait for your mother to get the chance to thank them since they left immediately after getting you home. After explaining to your parents how they helped you, your mother told you it would be nice to thank them with some cookies and muffins that she liked to bake. Which is exactly what you did. The next day, your mother filled a basket with chocolate muffin and cookies for you to give them to Ace and Sabo.

Nervously approaching Dadan's House where Ace lived you waited before knocking the door and immediately heard Dadan opening the door thinking its one of the annoying kids only to find you standing there holding a basket, you smiled, "hello, is Ace here?" You asked. She smiled at you, "What a sweet kid like you looking for Ace? Don't tell me he caused you trouble?" You were about to storm back in screaming for Ace. "No! Not at all, I'm got him this basket of muffin because he helped me yesterday. Is he here?" Dadan's jaw dropped at your words, and she nodded. "Ace! There is a sweet girl waiting for you. You better start making friends with sweet kids like her." You heard Dadan calling Ace and his voice asking who it was before he reached the door. His brows shot up when he saw you, "I-ih-uh well, i- uh my mom made these for you, thank you for helping me yesterday, and sorry." You handed him the basket."OK, bye-".

You were about to leave when he spoke, "Wait!" You stopped and turned around. He seemed as if he was fighting to ask you something, but he did it anyways, scratching his black hair he asked, "Would you wanna see a beautiful view?" He asked, and you smiled wide, nodding. Holding onto his arm, which made him blush, "Where is it?" You asked eagerly because you liked discovering new places in this small village.

You followed right next to Ace as he led you both somewhere you had never been, and you gasped when you reached the stop. Ahead of you was the open sea. You have never been to the seaside. It was very high from where you stood. You laughed now, holding on Ace's arm as you looked down, giggling at how beautiful it was, and it was the most beautiful sound of waves you ever heard.

Ace smiled down at your excited expression every time you'd look down at the waves hitting the edge of the mountain. He had never seen anyone getting excited because of the waves even though he loved this place, and it made him calm to be here.

You both sat on the grass looking ahead before Ace took a bit of the muffin, and this was the first time you saw him smile. You blinked with jaw dropped at how beautiful he looked up close; his freckles, his smile, and his beautiful dark eyes as he smiled. He turned to look at you and smiled even more, making you tiled your head, "You have a beautiful smile, Ace-kun." He chuckled and shrugged, "You are beautiful." You were taking aback with his compliment, but both of you needed up laughing. You moved a bit closer to his side, "If it's okay, can I ask why were you and Sabo in the woods? Were you looking for new plants? Because I do that." He blinked, "Nah, we have a secret. I will tell you if you can keep a secret." You eagerly nodded, placing your chin on his arm that he had wrapped on his knees. He liked how you weren't terrified to be this close to him and not running away scared. He explained to you how he wasn't to be a pirate and get his own ship one day and how he was excited to leave this island one day. You hummed and paying close attention to his words. He felt comfortable talking to you. "Don't you wanna leave this small village, this island?" He asked you and you smiled looking at your bag before pulling out your plant book, "I wanna learn about more plants and flowers like in this book and it says that there are many more unique plants out there, if I get the chance I will leave the island. I might miss my home, but I will be excited to learn new things." He nodded with a smile and rested his chin over your head as you kept your eyes closed, dreaming about the world far from this island.

After that day onwards; it was an undecided fact that you and Ace were together and neither of you even said it out loud that you are together it just made sense and you didn't deny his love and kindness towards you. Ace was so gentle and loving only with you. He'd walk you to and from school. He'd take you on silly adventures with his little brother Luffy and Sabo whenever you could join them. He loved being around you and how you'd cling to his arms the whole time you're with him never letting go as if he was your hero; he felt prideful whenever he'd make you smile or amazed with his actions and words.

You'd often praise him for the tiniest things he'd achieve or the biggest achievement; you were always proud of him and that made him smile at night when he'd go to bed thinking about you the whole day. He loved how you'd run to hug him every time you'd see him wrapping your arms around him and letting out a sigh of joy every time without fail. You were both kids 10 and 9 when you found each other, and now you were both 17 and 16; and even more in love than ever. In the last eight years, you grew more attached to Ace to the point that you'd spend more time with him than anyone else, not even your best friends would have your time like Ace did. He'd proudly call you his girlfriend to whoever didn't already know. But you also knew that he would eventually leave one day to become a pirate, and you were terrified that he would forget about you. It was the day before he left when you were both sitting at by the seaside; your favourite place. He was looking ahead while you had your face buried in his neck, his long black hair tickling your face, but you didn't mind at all. You loved his scent and being close to him. You had your arms wrapped around him and legs on either side of him. You were much quieter than before, just enjoying his presence, "Ace? Will you forget about me?" You asked out of nowhere. Ace looked down at you. Now you were looking at him with a pout. He cupped your face in his hands, "Absolutely not! Why would you think that, Sweetie?" You shrugged, looking to your side. "I'll miss you, I will miss you so much. I will miss your hugs, your smile, I will miss how you make me feel safe..." You sobbed, hiding your face in his chest, making him chuckle and rub your back, "Hey, don't cry. Baby, my sweet, sweet girl. My angel. Don't cry, please?" You shook your head still crying, and he hugged you tighter kissing your forehead, "Promise you won't forget me and you will find me again?" You whispered, holding back your tears. He smiled, kissing you cheeks, "I will never forget my favourite girl, my sweet girl. I love you, you know that, right?" You nodded, "I love you more, Ace-kun."

You had told him that you won't cry when he leaves. Lie. You cried and cried a lot and more than anyone. You won't let go of him as you held him in an embrace and cried like a little girl being separated from her favourite person. He let you hold him and not push you away. Rubbing your back and whispering sweet things to you and telling you to be strong and that you are strong. "I love you so so so much, Ace, Aceeeeee." He kissed your forehead and cheeks over and over until he managed to get you giggling. "I'll see you again, I promise my sweet girl. I will find you wherever you go, don't forget to go out there and explore like we promised? Hum? Promise me you'll go out and explore the world and when I see you again you'll tell me all about the new plants and flowers that you saw? Promise?" You chuckled and nodded."Promise." He kissed your forehead, "That's my sweet girl. I love you, take care of yourself. My sweet girl."

A year after Ace left, you finally finished your education and set sail when a group of map makers made it to your island and were heading to find a new island; you joined them. It was an exciting year full of adventure, and you had decided to stop your journey with the crew at the new world of Wano. You heard and read so much about Wano and how beautiful it was. It was easy to say you weren't disappointed when you arrived there. It was a beautiful place and more exciting because it was filled with plants for you to discover. You had decided to discover on your own away from the crew and came across a small village. However, you quickly learned that an evil pirate crew was also there, and you decided to keep guards. On one of the nights as you were writing in your journal, a sound of someone walking made you jump from where you sat. Immediately grabbing you switch blade, you hid behind the tree, ready to attack if they tried to hurt you. Trying to move positions, you accidentally stepped on a tree branch and gasped as you heard the footsteps become hurried. Coming from behind the tree you yanked the blade forward ready to attack whoever was ahead of you only to be dropped on the ground still holding the blade near the neck of whoever now had you under them holding you on the ground; you were ready to cut them then and there. The person held you down with one arm and held your wrist that had you blade in with the other. You were terrified that you couldn't even speak but breathing hard, but that person didn't move an inch feeling you tens and knew that you were trying to defend yourself and not attack them. You pushed whoever it was, and now you were on top of them, but before you could stab the person, the light from the fireplace made you catch the glimpse of the person. You gasped, dropping the blade in shock. His eyes widened, and a huge smile found its way to his lips as he balanced himself on his elbows before sitting up, "ACE-KUN!" You flung yourself in his arms. He held you close so hard that you found it hard to breathe, but you didn't care, "My sweet girl, oh, my angel. Please tell me this isn't a dream, I'm really holding you in my arms. Ugh, my baby doll, my sweet girl. I missed you." You kissed him wherever you could reach, making him giggle, "Ace-kun! I missed you. I missed you. I missed you so much. You're here, Ace-kun." He smiled at you, kissing your forehead, "I missed you more, my love. Aww, look at you. You've gotten so gorgeous more than you already were. Hey, beautiful. I better not be dreaming." You giggled, "No, you are not dreaming, Ace-kun."

"Yes, my heart, yes. Tell me baby what. Gosh, I missed your voice."

You giggled, "Ace-kun!"

He laughed, "Yes Ace-kun's heart. Ace's baby." You screamed happily, accidentally throwing him on the ground while hugging even more, making his heart burst with joy over how excited you were and won't stop calling his name from excitement.

[marlsswrites]

Summer camp AU, part 26!!

July 26th <3

Unpleasant - @jegulus-microfic - words: 628

First part Previous part

The woods were certainly... unpleasant. Due to the pours of rain they'd had the past few days, the ground was turned from dust to thick, brown, swampy mud. His feet squelched on the ground as the group trudged along. today they'd planned to get the kids on the zipline, but it was a walk to the other side of camp to get there. 

Chatter surrounded them with the occasional sound of a twig snapping as Regulus carefully avoided the roots plotting to trip him up.

The silence suddenly felt too loud, no words left James' mouth as he walked forward, not even a hum or an annoying whistle sang from his lips.

His head seemed to involuntarily turn to the side to scan over the other mans face, he was chewing onto his bottom lip and occasionally adjusting the gold ring that pierced through his nose.

"James?" He spoke up after he'd decided he'd been staring a minute too long.

"Hm?" James turned to look at him and almost instantly, the look of nerves wiped from his face as he gazed down at Regulus with his wide eyes.

"Are you okay?"

A beat, just one second. James face looked as if it had melted like a soft marshmallow on a hot stinging flame that was Regulus Black. The corners of his dark, slightly bitten lips tipped up into a caring smile as his eyelashes fluttered open and closed once, then twice as he smiled wider. Seeing James like this made Regulus so happy, James was so full of joy, sunlight, and safety it just gravitated Regulus towards the other man - not allowing him to even try to look away from the light that was burning a pattern of James Potters love onto his irises.

"You really care?" Looking slightly shocked, the brunette asked. It startled Regulus how startled James looked at the thought that Regulus cared about him, of course he did. 

"Why wouldn't I?"

James just shrugged, shaking his head as the whole world around them seemed to morph into only the very real smile Regulus gave when he looked down at the floor and the way James softly moved a curl on Regulus' head. "'was out of place." He hummed.

Regulus watched the floor as their feet walked in sync, James' red converse a sparse difference compared to Regulus' green ones. The youngers threaded with silver and black beads and kept neat, while the older one had tatted, discoloured laces and no longer white surface covered with doodles and initials of others.

S.O.B... sketched messily on the side.

R.L.L... neatly curled around the shoe.

P.O.P...

L.J.E...

M.G.M...

M.E.M...

He read through all the initials, it was rather sweet actually, all the people that James loved had clearly written that on there themselves. The shoes were worn out, tatty and old, yet that had a meaning to them that no one could ever replace.

Slightly immersed in his thoughts, Regulus missed a twig that rounded out of the ground as his foot caught on it. He slipped forward towards the ground, before a heavy arm wrapped itself around Regulus' delicate waist and tugged him up before he fell. He heard a laugh come from James, who's arm was still wrapped around Regulus' waist - honestly, if it were up to Regulus, the arm would stay there for a whole lot longer.

"Careful there love." He chuckled.

"I am being careful." Regulus snapped, avoiding looking at James' lips even though they were ever so close and at the perfect height. Screw that man, and screw him for slotting in with Regulus like a jigsaw piece, it made this whole situation even harder for Regulus. He's not even sure if they really fit together, or if they could just be two separate pieces from two very different puzzles, coincidently finding each other for only a short while.

Next part

[vixenmulder]

A Bad Fall

Summary: reader gets hurt on a mission. Yord x reader fluff, pining, unspoken feelings

Warnings: head injury

—————

Overall the mission had gone well, and they were reasonably well received considering the native cultures weariness on space travel and foreign life.

As they left the small village behind, The wind picked up, howling around them and carrying with it a biting chill. Y/N could sense a strange feeling in the air through the force and it made her shiver.

They hiked back through the rugged terrain, as dark clouds loomed ominously in the distance, signaling the imminent arrival of a storm. Sharing a brief glance Y/N and Yord picked up their pace, mindful of the approaching tempest.

"Looks like we're in for a storm, and I don't know if we're going to out-walk it." Y/N observed after a little while, pulling her cloak tighter around her.

"Looks like it," Yord agreed, his tone neutral but he eyed the dark clouds warily. "We should hurry back to the ship before it hits."

The wind picked up, whipping through the towering hills surrounding them. Raindrops began to fall, growing heavier with each passing moment. The sunlight slowly began to fade until it was dark as night.

Puddles forming on the ground were splashing violently with the frequency of raindrops hitting them. And the two Jedi were thoroughly soaked, trying not to shiver as they marched onwards.

As they continued, the terrain grew more treacherous. The path was rocky and steep in some areas, requiring them to carefully climb over larger boulders, this was made twice as difficult thanks to the amplified weather of the planet.

Y/N, typically agile, failed to spot one slick stone concealed by a puddle. Her foot slid out from under her, her balance momentarily lost.

With a yelp, she tumbled backwards, her hand stretched out to catch herself and striking her head on a sharp rock as she fell. The force of the impact knocked her out almost instantly.

Yord barely heard her shriek over the downpour, but sensed the change in her force signature immediately. He rushed to the edge of the hill, watching as Y/N slid into a small, shallow creek at the bottom.

"Y/N!" he called out, the rain now lashing down, reducing visibility to mere meters. No response. At least not one he could hear. And her body remained motionless face down in the water.

Yord scrambled down the embankment, heart leaping. He splashed through the running water and mud, reaching the spot where Y/N lay motionless on the creek bed. He knelt down, speedily rolling her onto her back, out of the water and mud

"Can you hear me?" he said, trying to be heard over the howling wind. There was no response from Y/N. Her eyes were closed, and a nasty gash adorned her forehead.

Yord quickly assessed her condition. She was breathing, but her pulse was weak. A concussion, no doubt caused by the fall. He knew they had to find shelter quickly.

With a determined grunt, Yord scooped Y/N into his arms, her soaking wet attire weighing heavily on him. Supporting her against his chest, he scanned the surroundings for any signs of cover.

The world appeared as a grey scale sketch of blurred lines. The rain smacking against his face was painful and the stream was starting to flood, as lightning flashes illuminating the impact spots of rain. Yord looked up at the shore of the creek.

Luck was on their side. Not far from the creek, he spotted a small opening in the rock face. A cave system would be perfect for sheltering from the storm.

Shifting Y/N's limp form, Yord carried her into the cave. The sheltered space provided some protection from the elements, and he gently laid her on the dry ground.

Inside the cave, the howling wind seemed distant, dampened by the thick rock walls. Y/N lay with her head in his lap, still unconscious.

Yord ran a hand through his damp hair, cursing under his breath. The situation was far from ideal. Without medical supplies, there was little he could do for the concussion, or cut on her head. All he could do was keep her warm and comfortable until the storm passed.

Yord shrugged off his soaking wet cloak, draping it over Y/N's shivering frame. He rubbed her arms, trying to generate some warmth.

Time ticked by slowly, the rain battering the cave entrance incessantly. As he continued to run his hands up and down her arms and shoulders periodically hoping to create some friction and heat. Y/N stirred slightly, a small groan escaping her lips.

Yord perked up at the sign of movement. "Y/N," he said, leaning over her. "Can you hear me?"

Her eyelids flickered open, disoriented and blurry. "Wha...?" she mumbled, trying to sit up.

"Woah," Yord pressed a gentle hand against her shoulder, keeping her from moving too much. "Just lay back for a moment."

Yord's heart sank as Y/N's eyes fluttered closed again, her body going slack. She was shivering uncontrollably now, the cold and wetness seeping in despite the cloak.

He muttered another curse under his breath, drawing her closer to him in a desperate attempt to share his heat. The rain showed no sign of letting up, and the clouds had blocked out all light now. Who knew how long they would be trapped in this cave?

Now hours ticked by, the storm showing no signs of abating. Y/N lay motionless in Yord's lap, her pale face bathed in the faint glow of his lightsaber, the only source of light in the cave when he chose to flick it on.

He had discarded some of his clothes to create makeshift padding, trying to keep her insulated from the cold, damp floor. But her shivering persisted.

The cave was intermittently lit up by flashes of lightning from outside. Each bolt of lightning cast eerie shadows, dancing on the rough rock walls. Yord looked up as a particularly loud rumble of thunder echoed through the cavernous space.

Y/N shifted in his lap, mumbling incoherently. Her body jerked with each shiver, her teeth clattering against each other. Yord clenched his jaw staring across at the far wall. The only thing had that he could utilize was body heat, as uncomfortable as it was.

With careful movements, he adjusted her position, gently tucking his arm around her neck and using the other to pull her waist up, resting her head against his shoulder for warmth. Tenderly he ran a hand through her damp hair, feeling the coldness of her skin.

He wrapped her up tightly in his arms and rocked them slightly, this new position gave them a lot more contact and he was already starting to feel the temperature change in their clothes, not to mention he felt warmer as well, if not for different reasons.

She was still shivering, but not as violently as before. This was good. He placed his cheek against her forehead as he held her, closing his eyes tightly willing away his own urge to shiver.

"You're going to be alright," he murmured, to her unconscious form. "Just hang in there a little longer."

——

Yord felt warm and fuzzy, taking slow breaths as he cracked his eyes open.

Daylight streamed through the mouth of the cave, the rain having faded to a drizzle.

He stirred from his semi-slumber, shifting gingerly from under Y/N's head, at some point they had moved to laying down, on the cave floor cocooned by their robes layered across them like blankets.

Yord took a deep breath the humid air and familiar smell of Y/N filling his lungs as he flexed his arms, realizing how entangled they really were. He moved his hand to the back of Y/N's neck and felt a rush of satisfaction feeling the heat radiation off of her.

He looked towards the cave entrance again. He didn't know how long had passed, or when he fell asleep, all he knew was that he felt extremely comfortable and warm. Shame filled him when he felt hesitance to get up and leave the current situation he was in, but he must.

He started to slide out from under her as gently as he could, at some point he had fallen asleep on his back with her laying overtop of him. And the moment felt extremely intimate. Yord ignored the feeling of longing chewing at his chest.

He carefully rearranged Y/N onto the makeshift pillow of their discarded outer wear and moved to examine the cave mouth.

As the rain began to lighten, Yord raised his head, listening intently. The harsh pelting on the rocks outside was slowly decreasing, the storm seemingly moving on.

As the noise gradually died down, Yord allowed himself a sigh of relief. They were one step closer to getting out of this cave and to safety.

Yord leaned back against the wall, drawing a breath as he considered their situation. The storm was passing, but they were nowhere near their ship, and Y/N was still unconscious.

As Yord stepped further out he had to acknowledge that the moisture revealed the rugged beauty of the planet. The rain had washed away the dirt and grime, leaving the landscape vibrant and colorful.

They were in a valley, surrounded by towering hills and ridges. The rolling landscape was adorned by a variety of native flora, adding a splash of color to the otherwise rocky terrain.

The air was crisp and cool from the rain, carrying the faint scent of wet earth. The path back to the ship would be steep, but navigable in the light.

He glanced over his shoulder at the still form of his fellow Jedi, and from here it looked as though she was peacefully sleeping, his chest flooded with affection. He had to remind himself that she wasn't just sleeping, and their situation was more urgent than that.

He turned back into the cave gathering their robes and putting his back on though it was still damp. Then Yord hoisted Y/N over his shoulder once more, doing his best to be mindful of the gash on her forehead. As he set off out the entrance of the cave.

As they navigated the hillside, the scenery was even more breathtaking. Wildflowers bloomed in the crooks of rocks, their vibrant colors a stark contrast to the grey stones. A small stream babbled nearby, fed by the recent rain.

A small smile lifted the corners of his mouth as he thought about how angry Y/N would be to find out she missed this beauty. But with a jolt of worry hurried onward as he realized the only way she would ever be able to enjoy scenery ever again was if he got her back to the ship before her condition worsened.

The terrain grew more demanding as they ascended. Yord moved with care, avoiding loose rocks and slippery surfaces. His lean muscles strained, and he was winded from the exertion and from Y/N's additional weight but refused to stop until they reached the ship.

The sky was clear now, the storm-darkened clouds having dissipated. The sun shone warmly, a stark contrast to the chill of the previous night. The familiar shape of their ship came into view, parked just over the next ridge.

As they crested the final ridge, Yord nearly collapsed in relief. There, perched on a small plateau, was their ship. It loomed like a silent sentinel, a sign of safety and familiarity.

He began the final descent, treading more quickly now. He longed to get Y/N back inside, where warm light and medical supplies awaited.

As they reached the ship, Yord wasted no time in accessing the hatch. With practiced ease, he punched in the access code and entered, setting Y/N down on a nearby bench.

The sterile interior was a sharp contrast to the alien terrain outside. Yord left Y/N momentarily to fetch a medkit from the cargo hold.

Yord returned moments later, the medkit under his arm. He knelt next to Y/N, opening the kit and withdrawing a small scanner. He ran the device over her, the blue light highlighting her injuries.

With gentle hands, he cleaned and dressed the wound on her forehead. A bacta patch was applied, its healing properties already beginning to take effect.

He cradled her face and moved it side to side making sure the patch would stay secure for the treatment of her external injury. He gave a small nod.

Satisfied with the application of his field medical training, Yord shifted his attention to the rest of Y/N's condition. He checked her vitals, reassured by the steady, if somewhat slow, heartbeat.

He took a moment to remove both their wet and muddy shoes, and paused slightly before removing her mid layers, leaving her undergarments for modesty, and fighting back the slightly shameful blush burning his cheeks.

He wrapped her in a clean, dry blanket, her chilled skin slowly warming. It would take time for her to regain consciousness. In the meantime, at least they were both safe.

With Y/N tucked safely on the bench, Yord took a moment to gather his own bearings. He changed into a dry set of robes himself, feeling heat flood through his body after getting out of the soggy ones. The adrenaline from carrying Y/N along the slippery trail was wearing off, leaving him feeling both exhausted and relieved.

He leaned against the cool metal wall, watching as Y/N's chest rose and fell with steady breaths. The ship was quiet, save for the soft hum of the life support systems.

Yord moved to the cockpit, flicking on the rest of the ship's systems. The engines rumbled to life, a comforting sound in the relative silence of the ship.

He ran through the pre-flight checklist, ensuring everything was in order. And entered the co-ordinates for the nearest settlement. Then he returned to where Y/N lay, sitting down on the edge of the bench beside her.

Leaning back against the far wall, he allowed himself to relax, watching her breathe, the slow, steady rise and fall of her chest.

The ship took off entering the atmosphere and beyond witha heavy rumble then stillness again. As Yord watched Y/N sleep, a mix of emotions stirred within him. She looked so still and vulnerable like this, her usual vibrance gone.

He was used to her lively spirit, her unwavering determination in the face of danger. But now, he saw her in a different light - soft, fragile, almost like a broken doll.

He reached out, gently brushing a strand of hair from her face, his fingers lingering on her cheek longer than they should.

Yord found himself watching her intently. The harsh shadows cast by the artificial light of the ship accentuated her features, yet somehow softened her face.

He reflected on the night's events. It had only been a reconnaissance mission, yet they'd ended up stranded in a cave due to a freak storm. It could have ended badly.

And in all that, the one thing that kept resurfacing in his mind was his feelings towards Y/N.

This was not the first time he'd been aware of his emotions for her, but today's incident had brought them to the forefront.

He knew, intellectually, that relationships were complicated for Jedi. The stricture against attachments was in place for a reason. Yet he couldn't help feeling a pang when he looked at her now, so vulnerable in her sleep.

The way her eyelashes rested on her cheeks, the softness of her hair. A pang of fear and protectiveness stirred in his chest. They had faced danger countless times together, but yet this experience had left a mark.

He couldn't deny them, these feelings he'd harbored for so long. The way his heart leapt when he saw her smile. How his stomach would lurch when she was in danger. The way he would instinctively move to protect her, time and again.

Being stuck in that cave with her had brought those feelings to the forefront. He'd had to care for her, keep her alive. He'd felt her shivering in his embrace, her skin chilled and clammy.

Yord wasn't sure when the feelings had begun. Perhaps it was the endless hours they'd spent training together, the trust born from countless missions.

But somewhere along the line, his protective concern for her had shifted. He found himself noticing little things about her - the way she held her lightsaber, the set of her jaw when she was determined about something. The warm peaceful smile she adorned when dealing with the younglings, or admiring the beauty of a planet they were on.

Yord ran a hand through his hair, frustration and affection warring within him. He was so confused. He began calming his mind and relaxing his feelings. He was a Jedi, sworn to uphold their teachings. And yet...

His gaze returned to Y/N.

A wave of emotion washed over him, deep and primal. Whenever he was around her, his usually steady mind became a tangle of feelings and conflicting thoughts.

Yord stood abruptly, restless energy coursing through him. The confines of the ship didn't feel nearly as spacious anymore.

He began pacing the small room, his footsteps thudding against the durasteel floor. He was hyper-aware of every noise - the soft hum of the ship's life support systems, the soft rustle of Y/N's blankets as she stirred in her sleep.

He paused, looking down at her. As if she had heard his thoughts, Y/N stirred on the bench, a soft groan escaping her lips. Her eyelids fluttered, and she slowly began to regain consciousness.

Yord moved closer, watching her as she came back to awareness. Her eyes opened slowly, squinting against the harsh light of the ship.

Y/N's eyes opened fully, taking a moment to adjust to her surroundings. She shifted and winced as a wave of dizziness hit her.

Yord moved forward, sitting down beside her. "You're safe. We're on the ship," he reassured her, a hand coming up to brush her hair away from her forehead.

She winced as she reached up to touch the healing wound there. Y/N blinked several times, trying to clear her cloudy vision. As the world came into focus, she found herself staring up at Yord's familiar face.

"What...happened?" she mumbled, her voice raspy from disuse. She tried to sit up, only to wince as a sharp pain flared in her temple.

"Easy," Yord said, gently pushing her back down. "You took a pretty hard fall."

He looked down at her with concern written across his features. "You hit your head and got a concussion. You've been out for a few hours."

Y/N frowned, clearly trying to recall the events of the past few hours. "I don't remember much..."

She raised a hand to her forehead, gingerly touching the bacta patch there. "How..."

Yord watched her, his expression one of both relief and concern. "There was a storm. You fell. We hid in a cave until it passed."

Y/N frowned, her brow furrowing as she tried to recall the events leading up to her current state.

"I don't remember falling," she admitted, frustration in her voice. "And my head...feels like it's been trampled on by a bantha."

Yord chuckled softly, a ghost of his usual teasing grin crossing his lips. "Yeah, concussed people usually do feel like that."

He leaned against the far wall again, folding his arms across his chest. "You gave me quite a scare, you know that?"

Yord's gaze softened as he looked at her. "I thought..." he furrowed his eyebrows and looked down for a moment swallowing hard. "...for a moment, I thought you weren't going to wake up," he admitted quietly.

Y/N, for her part, remained silent. She was still processing everything he had said, her mind fuzzy from both the concussion and the emotions that his words had stirred in her.

They both knew there were things that remained unspoken between them, feelings they were both unwilling to voice out loud.

Yord knew it wasn't the time or place to bring up his own feelings, especially not when she was still recovering from a head injury. Instead, he redirected his focus to the present situation.

"You need to rest," he instructed, his voice firm as he loooed back at her. "You've got a concussion. Your body needs time to heal."

Y/N nodded slowly, obedient for once in her life. Rest did sound like a good idea. Her head was throbbing, and her limbs felt heavy.

As she laid back, closing her eyes as another wave of dizziness washed over her. She shifted on the bench, trying to find a comfortable position. "How long until we reach the nearest settlement?" she asked, her voice unintentionally weak.

"At least another day," Yord responded, his voice even, despite the pang in his chest. "We're in the Outer Rim. There's not much out here."

Y/N took a deep breath, realizing the situation they were in. "One more day, huh?" she said, her voice calmer now.

She shifted on the bench, wincing as she accidentally jostled her injured head. "I'd really like a hot shower," she added, her tone tinged with wry humour.

Yord chuckled softly. "One day away from civilization and you're already missing the comforts."

He pushed off from the wall, coming to stand beside her. He was so close now, his presence both unfamiliar and comforting at the same time. Y/N's heart fluttered.

"You'll survive a day or two without hot showers and holo-net access," he teased lightly, grinning down at her.

Y/N rolled her eyes, but there was no real heat behind it.

The banter was comfortable, familiar. But beneath it, Yord could feel an undertone of something else - an almost electric tension between them.

"Easy for you to say," Y/N grumbled, but there was a hint of a smile on her lips. "You know, you probably haven't seen a sonic shower in your life."

Yord chuckled again, amused by her feigned irritation. He was tempted to tease her more, to prolong this light-hearted banter. But his concern for her well-being won out.

"Enough talk," he said in a gentle way. "You need rest."

Y/N sighed, her playful demeanor giving way to exhaustion. The concussion was taking its toll.

"Fine," she conceded, her voice weary. "I'll rest. But don't expect me to like it."

Yord smirked, the familiar banter feeling like a balm. "I wouldn't dream of it," he retorted.

He tucked the blanket tighter around her shoulders, his touch gentle. "Now sleep," he ordered.

Y/N rolled her eyes but didn't argue further. With a soft sigh, she closed her eyes, finally giving in to her exhaustion.

Yord watched as she drifted off to sleep, the sight of her peaceful face bringing a sense of peace to his own anxious heart.

Once her breathing had evened out a bit more he leaned down and carefully pressed his lips against the uninjured section of her forehead, his heart skipping a beat as he did so.

Standing back up feeling lightheaded he took a seat on a nearby crate, his thoughts a whirl of confusion and affection. He knew he shouldn't feel this way but he just couldn't help it.

[zweetpea]

Eternity or stasis Part 1 of 2

Spicy scene so watch out. Also some Archon/Arlecchino slander purely because I don't like the fact that the house of the hearth is basically just training child soldiers. No hate if you like her but she is definitely not a good or even morally grey person.I am so sorry about human dvalin guys. I tried not to stroke my own ego when describing him but all the concept art for human Dvalin makes him out to be a very very VERY pretty man. And I like the Hoyoverse dragons so there is a bit of that. Also sorry this took so long to come out.

"Dvalin please!" You whine

"Mine. You're mine." He growls.

"Ah!" you squeak as he squeezes your hips.

"Tight... so tight... Too Tight! Dvalin I can't breath!" 'Yeah that's me. You're probably wondering how I got here.'

20 minutes ago.

"Dvalin it's been 2 weeks since Xiao brought me back. Andruis has come to visit twice, and both times you've refused to see him. You hardly let the abyss mages and slimes bring me food. "I'm begging you, please let me go. I won't run away again just please." You pleaded desperately trying to wriggle out from between his front claws. He was splayed out like a dog lying out in the sun arms crossed in front of him to trap you in.

"Not a chance. The last two times I let you out of my sight you got kidnapped. First by those knights, then you were taken away and the abyss order has told me you were in the land of Geo. That filthy mud-ridden dragon. What does he have that I don't? What can he give you that I can't?"

"Well, no offence but physical intimacy and companionship."

"Oh really?" He growled in a sarcastic tone (and also literally growled, he is a dragon after all). A bright light blue light shined out from Dvalin's chest as he shrunk.

"Dvalin? What...?"

Standing before you was a beautiful man with sharp features. He had a long pointed nose, and sharp eyes. His face wasn't too particularly round (he had a few freckles on his face) and his chin looked like it could cut diamonds. He had long baby blue hair that fell past his shoulder blades - his bangs curled around his head to the back of his head - and glowing aqua colored eyes that pierced your soul. His horns curved up, back and towards each other; the tips tinted in dark blue. His pointed ears peeked out meekly from the sides of his head. He was tall (maybe 7 feet), and his entire body - from hid shoulders down to his waist - was broad. His chest and abs were sculped and defined. His limbs held muscles toned to perfection, yet strangely enough faded from the pale of his torso and face to a lighter blue and finally to a deep blue at his finger tips and his long nails. Finally just behind him swayed a furry blue and white tail. 

"WHY ARE YOU NAKED?!"

"Why wouldn't I be? I don't wear clothes in my true form. I feel strange like this." He looked at his hand, perplexed by the addition of a fifth finger.

"You- you- two- um-" You backed up as he stalked over to you. "Wait!" Your face heated. 

"Come here darling. You said you wanted to be physical." He pulled you toward him and wrapped his tail around you.

"HELP LITTLE SLIMES!! I fell into a trap! He's got me! And he won't let me go!" You scream as a dendro smile and hydro smile bounce toward you.

"Mine."

"Yes I know but, EH!" You try to struggle. 

"Mine!"

"Eh!"

"Mine!!"

"EH!"

"MINE!"

"EH!!"

"MINE!!"

"Dvalin! Please. This is embarrassing. And I can feel your 'friends' poking my ass."

"They just want to say hi, and they wouldn't be so eager if you didn't squirm so much on my lap." He purrs in your ear.

"We need to get you some clothes." You throw yourself from his grasp with all your might. "Maybe some apple bottom jeans."

"Jeans?" He looks confused. 

"And boots with the fur."

"With fur?"

"Really just anything to keep you 'packages' to yourself."

"Oh? So you don't want 'Physical Intimacy'?" He teases. 

"Um I..." 'Screw it. Baizhu and I are just friends with benefits.' You pull Dvalin closer and kiss him. His lips mold into yours and you poke your tongue into his mouth. He lay you down as his tongue overtook your mouth.

"I... cannot feel my legs."

"Stay right there, I'm going to get some food." He kisses your head.

"Wait!" You grab one of his horns and gently rub your thumb over it.

He lets out a breathy moan and grabs you wrist. "Keep that up and this little snack I'm getting you will be an intermission instead of aftercare."

"Did you want this?"

"It was nice, especially the feeling of your nails scratching along my back. I'll be honest, I'm willing to do anything to keep you here."

"Okay, thanks for getting me some food."

"Of course darling." He kisses your lips, and slithers out of the tower. 

10 minutes later you're feeling a bit better, that was until a certain high pitched Bard showed up.

"Dvalin! Please answer me. I know that you're up here! I'm sorry about what happened about a month ago." Venti pleads voice cracking like he's holding back tears. 

"Hi Venti..." You say apathetic.

"What are you doing here? How did you get back here?"

"Wouldn't you like to know." You snark. 

"Don't get smart with me! You turned Dvalin against me."

"I thought you'd want him to be free, and happy."

"I do. But I also want him to be safe. You are nothing but trouble, and I don't want him around you. End of story" 

"Why don't you give me one more- ow! Fudge nuggets! Anyway Venti," You limp your way over to him. "That's not really for you to decide, now is it?" You taunt.

"What gives you the right to talk to me like that?"

"What gives you the right to demand the respect of your people. You're a drunkard, Zhongli is a deadbeat, and Ei is a dictator. Not only that but the Tsaritsa endorses the exploitation of children, allowing Arlecchino - one of her Harbingers - to groom them into the perfect soldiers. They're exploiting orphans - who only have them to trust in - for their army. What good do you Archons do for your citizens?"

"Shut up!" He pushes you to the ground. Your delusion starts to glow seafoam green.

"You don't protect them. So get off your high horse you fake wannabe dei-"

"SHUT UP!!" He screams as the structure around you shakes and the air in the environment grows warmer. 

"Heh, I knew you were full of hot air."

"SHUT! UP!" He screams in your face as his hands come to wring your neck.

"GET OFF THEM!!"

"Dvalin?/!" Venti and you shout in unison. Him in horror and you in joy. Dvalin drops the food and charges at venti. 

"What have they done to you?" Venti whispers. 

"I chose to become this Venti."

"They've clipped your wings."

"You mean these?" Wings spring from his back.

"You know what I mean! Your powers are drained in this form! Why would you do this?"

"I need them that's why."

"No! I'm putting my foot down. I hate to do this but this obsession you have with them isn't healthy!" Dvalin charges at him and he dodges. Venti summons his bow (the skyward harp) and shot at you. You try to block but nothing happens. The arrow doesn't pierce you but it does knock you out and blow you far off.

When you wake up you're somewhere you haven't been before. Inazuma.  

"Okay. This isn't good. Why couldn't I block the arrow? Was it because it was Venti's?" You look down to your delusion and see it was seafoam green instead of a gold color. "Does this mean I've resonated with Anemo? I shook hands with Zhongli and resonated with Geo, Venti pushed me so..." You hold your hand out and several small wind currents form around you. You bring your other hand up and they all form into a big gust of wind shaped in a pair of wings. "Interesting. Okay... where exactly am I? This looks a bit like Ritou. Maybe I could get across to the beach."

"Outlander! Freeze!"

"Shit!" You start to jump across to the beach on your wind currents. You run through the hills of Inazuma.

"Okay I think I'm safe now. Where on earth did I go?" You run to the north end of Narukami Island.

"Hello?! Hello?" You call out as you look for anyone who could help you. 

"Hm? Hey cutie!" Itto shouts at you. 

"Aw, aren't you sweet."

"Heh. Nah, you're just adorable. Hey! You wanna beetle battle with me."

"I don't know how. Maybe a big, strong man could teach me." You flirt.

"Course I could." He wraps his arm around your shoulder. Maybe you should feel a bit bad about flirting and sleeping around but you were promised debauchery. You wrap your arm around him as he leads you to where his gang was, though you didn't get too far with Kujou Sara and her forces on you tail.

"There you are! Surrender your Vision and the blondie." She demands.

"Oh yeah, the sus girl made me twinsies with the twins."

"The Raiden Shogun has ordered any interlopers to be deported from Inazuma immediately, and if they have a vision we are to seize it form them. This... person?" She looks to you for confirmation, to which you nod. "Is under arrest for fleeing Ritou."

"So typical of a cop to be a rude bitch. Actually that's not really fair. Chevreuse, Wriothesley and Cyno are technically cops and they'll probably be considerate. Come to think of it The knights of Favonius are cops and Jean was extremely considerate. It's just the archon simps- well, no Xiao was pretty nice."

"Less talking more fighting!" Itto shouts in a frenzy. He and Shinobu have to fend of the Tenryou Commission. 

"Sorry!" You lift your hand and the gusts of wind lift the enemies off the ground.

"Now we're talking! Looks like the playing field just got a bit more even." Itto taunt.

"On my command!" Sara yell as she readies her bow. You quickly start to twist and turn your delusion to try and get in back to Geo.

"Don't do this to me. I need Geo right now." You whisper and it started to glow gold again. You quickly jump in front of Itto to block Sara's shot. You then start to pelt her with a slew of jagged spall toward the cops.

"Retreat!" Sara's companions cry.

"Cowards! get back here!" She furiously runs after them.

"Oh my gosh! That was awesome dude! Oh hey, what should I call you?" Itto cheers.

"Babygirl." you respond without missing a beat. "It's this affectionate nickname where I come from. If not that you can call me Gen with a G. Last name Z.

"It's nice to meet you Z." Shinobu greets from beside Itto. 

"Please, call me Gen. We're friend now... or something more." You mumble that last part.

"Yeah yeah yeah, formalities and such. How'd you do that? You went from Anemo to Geo in a split second!" Itto praises. "It was awesome. Does that me you have like, Anemo and Geo inside you."

"Well I don't know about Geo but Anemo and Dendro have definately both been inside me."

"Huh?"

"Uh, not the point. We should get going before the cops show up again."

"Oh right. Well Gen in thanks for you saving us I'll treat you to the Biggest bowl of Ramen I can afford."

"I don't think I'll be able to finish all by myself, but we could split it." 'Please if there is any good left in this universe or the one I come from let Itto and I do the lady and the tramp thing! Please please please-'

"Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry!" Itto apologizes.

'I love you universe!'

"Looks like Heizou was right. Caught you right where he said you would be."

"I'll handle this Itto. You just get everyone out of here." You order.

"No way! I'm not leaving you behind Gen!" He argues.

"Loyal to a tee, I see why Ayato likes you." You smile. Tenryou soldiers flinging themselves at you.

"Itto we have to go." Shinobu pleads.

"But-"

"Trust me! Go."

"I'm coming back for you!"

"Thank you." You smile. The Arataki Gang ran as the cops jump and overpower you. 

Sara bounds your wrists and ankles, and throws you over her shoulder. "Dang bound again. If I had a nickel for everytime I've been bound and it wasn't sexy, I'd have two nickels. Which isn't a lot  but it's weird that it happened twice. Weirder still that the only two times I've been bound have both been very unsexy. 'This would be arousing if you hadn't been an asshole earlier.' You thought. 'Okay... I guess this is a little hot.'

"Hey do you want to hear something cool? According to the Babylonians, Asushunamir was this super rad person who wasn't man or woman and they were given the gift of prophecy and healing. Also the Norse had this other dude who's portrayed as really really hot and they were gender fluid  but mostly went by he. The gender non conforming have a pretty sweet gig being hot and getting people out of trouble."

"Please stop talking. Besides it doesn't matter who or what you are. Man, woman, or something in between, all obstacles in the Shoguns path to eternity must face her wrath. No amount of strange tales will spare you."

"Bring it on that tyrant is going down!"

"Brave or foolish I do not know. May I ask you something?"

"Go ahead."

"I've been hearing rumors about you. They say you are not so much man or woman so... how do you work in bed if you don't mind me asking." 

"Well~ you could find out for yourself~"

"I'll have to pass on your oh so generous offer." Sara retorts sarcastically. 

"I'm a power-bottom if you must know! Nah that's a lie I'm submissive and breedable, even if I never get pregnant."

"Well... here we are. The Shogun is just inside. She will decide your fate." Sara unbinds you. 

"Bye Sara. Raiden Shogun! You better get your Bitch ass out here!" You storm through the halls.

"Who dares to insult me?" The dumb little puppet shows it's face.

"I mean the real Shogun! Come on out Ei!" As you taunt her a purple rift rips through the air and Ei pulls you into the plain of euthymia. 

"Why is a long haired hooligan in my presence. What's your name?"

"Gen. Now let's talk about something more previlent. You suck! I don't care if you have big boobies! You're a bad mom and a bad leader!"

"Excuse me?"

"You abandoned your son and say that you want to give him freedom. How is that freedom? You cast him out without anything to defend himself with! And on top of all of that he was basically a naive baby with no survival skills. How dense can you be? You are the cause of at least 25% of Teyvats major problems. Do you have any idea what He's doing out there right now?"

"Wow... you really want to die don't you?"

"Can you stop being so egotistical? There's more to this world than you ya know! I get you're sad because Makoto died, and you feel like you have no purpose. You don't feel worthy to be the Electro Archon, right? Well Miko doesn't think so. She and sara are keeping this entire nation afloat while you bitch and moan about having to do work."

"How do you know all of this?"

"Because I'm not from Teyvat."

"Obviously. You are the adored one. The one Celestia fears. That doesn't explain-"

"No!" You cut her off. "I'm literally not from this world. I've seen this twice before. I got in after beta and I have to look up past events off Youtube, because Hoyoverse is a bitch to the Genshin community. I get they want people to pay for gacha but just have them be a normal world quest or a side story or even a playable movie! Kingdom hearts did that with their mobile game! It was a bit confusing but that's kingdom hearts for you."

"...what?"

"Nothing. Point is you need to get off your ass and work. Your people are dying. They're slaughtering each other in droves. Eternity doesn't mean everything has to stay the same. Makoto wouldn't have wanted that Ei. Eternity can exist through Inazuma's preservation. Their culture and heritage and customs all play a part in Inazuma's identity. If those things can keep Inazuma thriving then Inazuma will be eternal."

"...you've seen this play out before. Is there ever a way for me to reach perfect Eternity."

"not a perfect stasis no. But from where I'm from you and Makoto's Legacy is secure. Inazuma is eternal to my people." 

"How would I even go about trying to fix things?"

"...wait that worked?"

"What?"

"I never thought I'd get this far. (A/n: SpongeBob reference!) I was just trying to sow the seed so that the twins wouldn't have to go through so much bullshit to defeat you and make you see the error of your ways. I was trying to buy time more than anything."

"Okay... so what do we do now?"

"I have no clue..."

"Um when you said twins... you wouldn't happen to mean two blonds in strange clothes similar to yours, did you?" 

"Is the puppet fighting them? Did your puppet take Thoma and they're trying to protect him?" You deadpan.

"Yes?"

"yep, that's them. Let 'em in they might be able to help." 

She does as you instruct and the twins come barreling in. "What the Fu-"

[siren-serenity]

helloOoo can i req for eli and daniel x f!reader childhood friends to lovers but make it separate (if it's not too much to ask :D) please && thank u 😸💐

a hopeless romantic all my life

characters: eli jang, daniel park, fem!reader warnings: bullying in daniel's part, swearing, eli's past is revealed a/n: - THE WAY I SQUEALED SO LOUDLY WHEN I SAW THIS REQUEST AKJSLKJADSFJKLFADKJLSJLKADFS - whenever i read eli's backstory + hostel i just want to cry T-T - DANIEL IS SO CUTE!!!! - i hope i did the childhood friends to lovers trope justice! - feedback is appreciated!

"Who's that girl over there?" Zack tilted his head, pointing with his chin to a remotely familiar student. Daniel squinted his eyes out of habit before they sprung wide open in half-surprise, half-delight. Leaping out of his chair (and getting yelps and shouts in response to the shriek of the chair), Daniel practically dashed over to you, arms open.

"Y/N!" He squealed, glomping you in a hug before realizing two things. 1. he was in a new body. 2. HE WAS IN A NEW BODY

"Get off me!" Within seconds, he felt a deathly grip on his wrists, and his vision blurred before his body collided with the floor. Daniel let out a groan, internally slapping himself for being so incredibly stupid. "Who the fuck are you?"

...It's definitely strange being on the other side of things. To Daniel, you were his childhood friend, his sword and shield, his protector against the many, many bullies that tormented him throughout his life. He was chubby and to society, he was only a piggy to command. But you? You were the first to see him as a human, and even a friend. You were a miracle!

A miracle who's...currently chewing him out.

"Who the heck do you think you are?! What kind of person just randomly glomps someone else? A stranger no less!" You spat out, whacking him on the shoulder for good measure. Daniel only gave you his cheesy smile but you didn't even blink or blush.

Did he think you would believe his next statement? Nah. But is he going to try? Yeah!

What could personally go wrong?

"I'm Daniel Park! Remember? From school?"

You blinked. Once twice.

"In your fucking dreams!"

Huffing, you walked away. Seriously? You were just trying to find the principal's office, not encounter some weirdo in J-High? God really doesn't like you.

In almost a dazed-like fashion, Daniel made his way back to his little friend group, barely acknowledging the shouts of confusion and the wild shaking of his shoulders (thanks to a combination of Zoe and Zack.)

"Who the hell was that?"

"What was that all about?!"

"Danny, who is that woman???"

Even Jay, who was quiet most of the time, was gesturing wildly between Daniel and the mysterious girl. Heartbroken - he genuinely thought there could be something between him and Daniel...only to be crushed in such a way.

"She's..." Daniel let out a silly sigh and everyone knew. "She's...somebody close to me."

His eyes fluttered. His cheeks flamed with bright red. Daniel's face was placed in the palm of his hand and he leaned into it.

Everyone knew. She wasn't just anybody to Daniel Park.

She was his crush.

Eli dashed through the streets, not giving two shits about the way he was absolutely dirtied with mud and sweat and the glares people sent to him. His eyes were wide and they scanned all over the streets for any trace of his baby girl.

YennaYennaYennaYennaYennaYennaYenna

"Up! Up!"

Eli halted in his footsteps, almost falling to the ground before running through the narrow alleyways. Teeth bared and hands itching, he would show no mercy to whoever took his baby girl.

"Yes, baby," An oddly familiar voice laughed. "Up it is!"

Yenna's laughter responded in kind.

"YENNA!" Eli roared, dashing the moment he saw his baby girl. He rudely snatched it out of the unknown person's hands, frantically scanning her for injuries. Her yellow dress was muddy, but fine nonetheless. She had bits of dust on her knees and arms, but no scratches.

He almost fell to his knees upon realization, letting out the breath he didn't know he was holding in. Eli buried his cotton-candied-colored head into Yenna's body, hands squeezing her tight.

"You're fine," He murmured, more to himself than to Yenna. "You're fine."

"Erm- sir?"

Shit- he forgot all about the nice lady that helped Yenna. Jumping to his feet, Eli gave the woman a strict 90 degree bow.

"Thank you so much for taking care of Yenna! I don't know how to repay you, I don't have money, but please! From the bottom of my heart, thank you-"

"E-Eli?"

That voice...he couldn't be.

Eli's shoulders trembled when he slowly unfolded from his bowing position and his breath was taken away from him for the second time. His eyes grew wet from unshed tears and the hand not holding Yenna came up to caress your cheek, shaking.

"Y/N..." He breathed out and you nodded, with a sweet grin that never failed to make his heart pound.

"Is that you?" You opened your arms and like the old times, Eli eagerly hugged you, careful to not squish Yenna in the process. The babygirl babbled, grinning as she grabbed onto your clothes. "Eli, it's been so long!"

He nodded and just hugged you tighter. It's been so long indeed...the last time he saw you, he was still the scrawny survivor of the alleyways, with his messy black hair and underfed body.

"I've missed you."

Eli Jang's confession was soft, but you heard every word.

His heart jumped when you just pulled him closer, trying to melt his body in yours.

"I've missed you too."

Before Heather, there was you.

[ramsayxme]

Chapter One / Chapter Two / Chapter Three / AO3 Link

TW: emotional, physical, and sexual abuse. period sex, knives, cutting, rape, forced oral sex, forced anal sex, manipulation, ramsay bolton things. ramsay goes a little feral in this chapter.

Chapter Four: A Losing Game

You weren’t sure how many days had passed, but you knew Ramsay had lied. He didn’t come see you the next day, or the day after that. You were served cold soup and bread three times a day, sometimes only twice. Servants came in to give you more firewood, which was the only comfort you had. You desperately needed a bath and you wouldn’t dare submerge yourself in the stale water from days ago. You were fighting the cold off enough as it was, you didn’t need any additional threats.

You started your menstrual cycle this morning and your sheets needed to be changed. You wrapped a blanket around yourself as you walked to the door, pounding on the large wooden slabs. “Please, can someone help me? I need my sheets changed.” You felt humiliated having to ask for this. You were met with nothing but silence on the other side of the door. Feeling defeated, you walked back to your bed and sat down on the soiled linens. You almost felt hurt that Ramsay hadn’t come to see you. Had he forgotten you? You didn’t want him to forget about you. It felt wrong to admit it, but you liked the idea of him thinking about coming back from a hunt to be with you.

Your mind drifted off, imagining Ramsay dismounting his horse in the stables with his brain swimming full of ideas of what to do to you. Your thoughts were interrupted by the door clamoring as it swung open and a very disheveled looking Ramsay stepped inside before slamming the door shut and locking it. He wore filthy leather, caked with mud and blood. There were scratch marks and chunks missing from his leather outer coat. His trousers were stained with blood and his hair was messy. His hands were dirty, his fingernails darkened. “Hellooo, my lady.” His voice was still pleasant, almost a sing-song tone.

“Ramsay! You’re back.” You realized you sounded almost excited. He walked over to you with arms stretched out. You stood up and quickly embraced him, he stunk of iron, dirt, and sweat. You flushed red in the face realizing that not only were you being so obvious with your lust for him, but knowing that he would now see your soiled sheets. His strong arms embraced you tightly as he sighed. “It’s nice to know someone missed me.” He whispered. He pulled back from the embrace. “Ah, I see your red flower has blossomed this month.” He nodded at the sheets. You felt your cheeks turned rosy.

“Yes, My Lord, I asked for new sheets but…” your voice trailed off. Ramsay led you to the bed by your hand. He motioned for you to sit down on the bed. “I have servants bringing you fresh sheets, fresh clothes, and fresh water for a warm bath. I had a feeling you were neglected while I was gone. Nobody will treat you as well as I do, dear girl.” He smiled as he began unlacing his filthy clothes. “I need a bath as well, perhaps we can share the bath after I’m through with you.” He didn’t look at you while he finished undressing. You suddenly felt your heart race in your throat. You felt very ashamed of your cycle and didn’t ever let anyone near you during it. The mere thought of Ramsay even seeing you bleed was enough to make you want to crawl into a hole for the rest of your life.

“But, My Lord, I can’t…” you searched for the words to say. “I can’t…” Ramsay chuckled as the last bits of his clothing fell to the floor and he set his knives on the table, except for one that he kept in his hand. “What, you think a little blood is going to scare me away? Have you forgotten what I do for fun?” He chuckled, walking confidently over to you. His body was pale and naked, and rather dirty. He sat down on the bed, and you pulled your knees to your side, attempting to shield yourself from him. You did not want to do this, not like this. Ramsay grinned at you, his dark hair was still somehow perfect even though it was messy.

He placed the knife on the bed and then his hands on your legs and brought them back towards him, opening them so he sat in between your legs. You pressed your clothing down between your legs, covering yourself. “My Lord, I’m embarrassed, I don’t want you to see me like this…” you couldn’t look at Ramsay. His head cocked to the side. “If I want to see you, I’ll see you. It’s not up to you, and it never will be.” He stated, yanking your dress up to reveal your naked lower half. The inside of your thighs were bloody and slick. Ramsay stared as he gently ran his index finger across the blood. You hid your face in your hands. This was nearly unbearable. You felt utterly humiliated. You had never envisioned this.

“Why are you hiding from me?” Ramsay whispered, his hand still tracing up and down your blood covered thighs. You muttered from inside your hands, “I don’t want this. Please. Not like this.” Ramsay leaned forward, kissing your hands on your face. “I do want this, though.” He forcefully grabbed your hips and yanked you down so you were lying flat on the bed. He pulled your legs on either side of him so he was kneeling in between your legs. “I’ll tie your hands behind your head if you can’t keep them down.” He threatened. You whimpered as you brought your hands to your sides. Ramsay tore your dress in half instead of pulling it over your head. His hands quickly found your body, harshly kneading your bare skin on your stomach and chest.

He picked up the knife and effortlessly nicked your collarbone with the sharp blade. It stung and you felt warm blood trickle down your chest. “See? I don’t mind blood.” Ramsay leaned down and licked the blood that had freshly poured from your wound. He licked it up to the cut, and sucked on the open skin. You whined in an argument as he brought the knife to your throat. “Ramsay, please stop, I-“ he interrupted you. “Do you want to argue? There’s a game I have called the losing game. We can play it if you like! The rules are simple…you argue with me, and I get what I want. I always win! It’s quite fun...”

He rested the blade on your neck. You didn’t answer him, swallowing your rebuttals. Ramsay went back to your wound and licked it once more before dragging his lips down your chest. He removed the knife from your neckline and dragged it down, the tip of the blade barely pressed against your skin. He dragged the blade to your belly button and then set the knife aside. Ramsay lifted and spread your thighs, fully exposing yourself to him. You felt your eyes fill with tears as he stared between your open legs. You truly had never felt more humiliated. You began to blink your tears down your cheeks.

Ramsay noticed your tears and stuck his bottom lip out. "Poor girl. You're quite shy, aren't you?" A cry escaped your lips as he quickly plunged two fingers into your bloody slit. You wanted to cover your face, but you definitely didn't want to be tied up like this. You gripped the bedding. You admit, you did enjoy the feeling of his fingers sinking into your extra sensitive core, but you were too distracted with the burning of your cheeks to pay much attention to the feeling. Ramsay slid his fingers in and out of you a few times before pulling them out and showing them to you.

They were slick with blood and perhaps a small amount of arousal, it was impossible to tell. He grinned wildly as he admired his fingers, his eyes wide as he wiggled them towards you. In an instant, the hand that was just inside you was tightened around your neck. You gasped as Ramsay quickly choked you. The blood from your neck wound mixed with his bloody fingers. Ramsay chuckled as he mortified you. He reached down with his other hand and plunged two fingers into you, watching you squirm and writhe under his chokehold.

"It feels good, doesn't it? You know, your humiliation just turns me on even more, my dear." He growled, his fingers curling inside you and instantly making your cheeks flush. Your tears kept rolling down your temples as you lie in the bed. Ramsay leaned forward and licked one of the tears, humming with pleasure. "I like tasting every bit of you." He whispered in your ear. Your eyes rolled to the side, an attempt to avoid him. He pulled his fingers out of you and raised them to your face. "Every. Bit." He grinned wickedly as you watched him put the two fingers in his mouth. You winced, squeezing your eyes shut, your face bubbling with discomfort.

Ramsay was clearly loving this. He watched you squirm with a smile on his face. You trembled and began to cry harder as you watched him suck the blood from his fingers. He groaned with pleasure as you struggled underneath him. "You make such pretty sounds when you're miserable, do you know that?" He asked you as he plunged his fingers back inside you. You whined, your body was in combat between arousal and shame. There was something dark and possessive in his eyes as his stare burned through you.

He pulled his fingers out and immediately began rubbing his hand on his cock. His teeth were grinding tightly as his eyes widened, his beaming face telling you everything you needed to know. Ramsay was downright enthusiastic about getting to fuck you while your cunt was bloody. He lined up the head of his cock and placed it between your folds. Before he pushed his length inside you, he exhaled. "I am going to enjoy this."

Forcefully, his cock plunged into your soaking cunt. Not only were you slick with blood, but you were regrettably quite aroused. Your sore and swollen insides were being massaged by his cock and you couldn't deny that it felt amazing. You mewled as he began pumping in and out, his eyes glued to his cock. His eyebrows furrowed and his jaw hung slack, something you hadn't seen before. Ramsay was enjoying himself so much that he was being swallowed by pleasure. His eyes shifted up to you, where he met your gaze. His facial expression did not change, his mouth slightly parted and his eyes desperate. He licked his lips softly. You felt your core heat up as a moan escaped his lips as they parted again.

You almost felt proud, knowing that your body was bringing Ramsay so much pleasure that he had let his guard down, allowing his tough exterior to almost melt away from the sensations. Your heart fluttered at the sight of a softened Ramsay. You wondered if perhaps you could be the woman to break him? Before you could indulge in any more thoughts, the familiar smirk broke across his face again. "I'm feeling selfish, love." He groaned. Your stomach quivered when he called you 'love'.

He pulled his cock out, leaving you empty. "Roll over for me." Ramsay commanded, his cock twitching and dripping. You didn't dare disobey, and you rolled to your stomach, feeling blood trickle out of your cunt. Ramsay growled at the sight of the bloody sheets, and just as you adjusted to being on your stomach you felt his cock between your ass cheeks. He grabbed both of your wrists and held them down by your hips as he forced his cock into your ass. You screamed, your body completely unprepared for this. The blood and arousal allowed him to shove inside you, his cock completely stretching your asshole.

You scream and fight, any attempt to get out from underneath him. "Ramsay!! Stop!" He just growls with affection in return, his cock beginning to pump in and out of your virgin asshole. From the groans and grunts coming from behind you, Ramsay is clearly enjoying this. He lets go of your wrists, one hand grabbing the knife next to you, the other hand snaking under your hips and sliding three fingers into your cunt. "Stop, My Lord, please..." You whine. "Say stop again, and you'll wish you hadn't." He groans, the knife pressing into your spine.

With your hands now free, you reach up by your head and grab onto the bedding. You bury your face in the blankets, allowing yourself to fully cry. He pulls his fingers from your cunt and he wipes the blood across your back. Ramsay tosses the knife on the floor as his hands move to work at your ass cheeks, kneading and squeezing. He bucks his hips hard, you feel like your entire backside might rip in half. You hear his breathing get jagged, and his strokes get quicker. One more deep plunge into your ass, and his cock starts leaking cum. He groans as he slowly fucks your hole through his orgasm.

He pulls out, leaving you aching and sore. You immediately roll back over in an attempt to shield yourself from any more penetration. Your lower core is throbbing and leaking. Ramsay is out of breath and covered in beads of sweat. His eyes are soft with orgasmic haze. His forehead dripping with sweat as his curls clung to his skin. He grins at you while your eyes fall to his waist. His cock is bloody, and blood trickles down his legs. He stands up and takes a deep breath. "Well, that was lovely, wasn't it?" He walks over to a pile of spare blankets that were placed in the room at some point during your sexual encounter and wraps one around his waist.

You notice his pale and toned chest glistening with sweat, but you are too broken to feel much about it at this point. Your asshole aches and your cunt continues to bleed. You're covered in blood from the nick on your collarbone and you feel washed up and abused. Apparently while Ramsay was savaging you, the servants had crept in and prepared fresh bath water for you and him. He walked over to the steaming tub, dropped the blanket, and climbed in. He sighed as he sunk into the hot water. "Are you waiting for something, love?" He uttered as he stared at you, still on the bed. "Come join me."

You slid off the bed and meekly sauntered to the bath, aware of the blood dripping on the floor from your naked body. Ramsay smiled as he held a hand out to help you climb into the tub. You stepped in and he helped you sit, placing you between his legs so you could lie back against his chest. You trembled as his arms wrapped around your waist under the water. The hands that were just abusing you were now caressing you as if you were a fragile prize to be won. He held you close and nuzzled into your neck as he pulled you back to rest on his body.

"You're very good to me." Ramsay whispered, peppering a kiss on your ear. You felt anger boil within you. "You're not good to me." You muttered. You felt his chest heave as he exhaled a chuckle. "I'm not? I believe I have saved your life multiple times. I bring you fresh linens. I feed you. I bathe you. I watch over you." his voice lowered as he spat the last words, "I pleasure you." You didn't have the strength to argue with him, you knew it wouldn't change his mind either way. You exhaled, allowing your body to slowly sink into Ramsay's chest. His hands were gently brushing across your body under the surface of the water, cleaning your skin from the blood. The water was quickly darkening from Ramsay's filthy body and yours.

It was alarming how safe you felt in Ramsay's embrace. You were too exhausted to question it, but you still knew it was unnerving. This is the man that hurt you, but yet he cradled you as if you were the only thing that mattered in the seven kingdoms. He was gently rising and falling with his breath as you rested on him, feeling his strong heartbeat pumping through his chest. "You know, love..." He started, his hand came out of the water to move your hair to the side so he could whisper to you. "Perhaps someday I'll marry you and you can give me an heir. Would you like that?" He cooed in your ear softly.

Without thinking, you nodded. Somehow, the idea of being Ramsay's bride settled your stomach. You feared him all the same, but knowing that you could belong to him made you feel... at ease. "Yes, My Lord. That would be wonderful." You were surprised at your own words. Ramsay squeezed you gently. "Good." He whispered, his lips lingering on your ear. Your brain swirled at the idea of him abusing you and then comforting you for the rest of your life, but somehow it seemed better than the alternative; being flayed alive. Perhaps you would grow to enjoy Ramsay's antics. Perhaps Ramsay would calm down once he fell in love and created a baby with you. You smiled at the thought, but deep down knew you were being foolish. Ramsay? Calm down? Never.

Chapter Five