#sun x spaniard? possibly?

[sinclairmaxwellao3]

Dousing Fires With Gasoline Ch.3 Quote

“I have it on good authority that today is someone’s special anniversary day.” Sun hummed, holding up a plate of cookies that he had painstakingly baked this morning, a bright smile on his lovely face.

“S-special day?” The mechanic queried curiously, all ration and higher levels of thought fleeing out of the window when the attendant entered the room, draped in a stunning two piece dress. A gauzy, thing made of tulle and silk with a skirt that fell to the bot’s ankle and the long sleeved, tight mid-drift top rising just high enough above the waistline that a hand’s width of Sun’s belly was on clear display. 

W-what day was it again?

Where was he? 

How could he be expected to think clearly when faced with a sight like that? 

Sun giggled, his cheeks turning pink at Solar’s obvious, brain-dead staring. 

“Kill Code told me that- that today is the anniversary of when you came to them here at the Celestial House. Your Gotcha Day!” Sun trilled happily, his smile bright and beaming, seeming to light up the entire room like a high-powered bulb.

[wileys-russo]

off limits (3) II a.putellas x león!reader

part one part two

back again! the next part might be the last? but there is more to come off limits (3) II a.putellas x león!reader

if it was team cohesion alexia wanted, then you were determined to give it to her.

you would be the most perfect of teammates, showing up early to training and working hard as you could, not allowing any of the brewing drama to affect your ability to play in the red and blue and to win.

on the pitch you would feed her any assists possible and take any passes she'd give you. the same went for playing alongside your sister, you'd take any ball she sent your way, any crosses aimed in your direction you were on in a flash.

however, to them thats all you would be, a teammate.

you went out of your way to avoid any sort of interaction with your ex girlfriend and captain that wasn't completely professional, and you avoided your older sister like she had some sort of disease, refusing to speak to them in any capacity that wasn't absolutely necessary or football related.

neither girl had properly spoken to the other since that night in anyway that wasn't professional either, the tension between them was simmering but palpable and not completely obvious to most of the team who weren't aware of any ill will.

the same could not be said for the uncomfortably awkward space you created for those who were aware that you and alexia were clearly going through some problems, which was the members of the team who'd figured out you'd both been dating.

or that there was clearly something wrong between the león sisters, normally attached at the hip and joking around in some sort of way at games and training. or posting together going out for walks or meals or spending time together on your days off, instead there was radio silence and everyone had picked up the two of you had come to a disagreement on something.

lucy had tried time and time again to get all three of you to speak with her about it to no luck at all, brushed off each time or sent away on a drill.

claudia and patri had tried to get you to open up again without any luck, both about your issues with alexia and the way they could clearly see you and mapi also were not talking. but again you dismissed them with a shake of your head, hurrying away to be by yourself.

after all, it wasn't affecting your performance on the pitch.

if anything your underlying anger with both women only spurred you on more, using football as a therapy of sorts. the free time in which you'd normally be sneaking off with alexia or messing around with mapi you spent doing extra shooting practice or meticulously studying past matches.

you were flying on the pitch, but you were leaving both of them behind in order to do so.

~

it was a thursday morning off for you. you had a photo shoot in the afternoon with a sunglasses company you were partnered with but beside that you had no plans. so you glanced up in surprise from your spot reading in the sunny corner of your living room when there was a knock on your door.

marking your place in your book you uncrossed your legs and padded over to the front door, glancing through the small peephole and frowning as you unlocked and pulled it open.

"hi, can we talk?"

~

mapi awoke as the warm morning sun bathed her face and she rolled over, expecting to be enveloped by her girlfriends welcoming arms but to her disappointment she was only met with an empty bed and cold sheets.

blinking tiredly the tattooed spaniard pulled herself up and rubbed the sleep from her eyes, head swiveling around the bedroom but unable to spot her norweigein lover anywhere her eyebrows furrowed deeper.

mapi called out for her, only rewarded with silence as she swung herself out of bed making her way around their shared flat, frown deepening as there was no sign at all of ingrid.

greeting bagheera with a scratch behind his ears mapi picked up her phone to call ingrid but the line only rang out to the girls message bank, mapi trying not to assume the worst or overthink as she made herself a coffee. but she didn't have long to spiral as she sat down with her breakfast and heard a key sound in the lock.

"good morning baby." her girlfriend smiled happily, closing the door after her as mapi was up and by her side in an instant. "where did you go? i woke up and you were gone!" she frowned after they'd hugged and shared a sweet kiss.

"i went out for breakfast." ingrid started, dropping her bag on the counter as mapi sat back down. "oh." the girl replied, trying to hide her disappointment at the lack of information or invite.

"...with your sister." ingrid finished, hiding her head in the fridge as she rummaged around for a moment. "oh." the spaniard repeated, this time a lot quieter as she sipped at her coffee, thoughts drifting as she stared out the window, hand bending down to gently scratch the cat which rubbed itself against her leg fondly.

"how was it?" mapi asked slowly as ingrid sat across from her at the table, having made herself a coffee as well. "it was okay, she misses you." her girlfriend murmured as she sipped the drink in her hands. "does she?" mapi asked skeptically, leaning back in her chair with a raised eyebrow.

"well she didn't exactly say it, but i could tell." ingrid sighed, a small smile tugging at her girlfriends lips at the brunettes forever present optimism. "mi vida she hates me." mapi chuckled, finishing her food and pushing her plate away with a sigh.

"she is very angry, but she has a right to be."

that made the defender frown, crossing her arms over her chest. "before you argue what would you do if it was the other way around? if she told you that you were not allowed to date me, and then i left you because of it." ingrid challenged, bagheera jumping up onto her lap.

"alexia left her?" mapi frowned quietly, her girlfriend giving her a look of disbelief. "please tell me you are joking. how did you not realise that from her behaviour?" ingrid shook her head as mapi could only shrug.

"i don't know. i just figured she was angry with me! i didn't think she would actually listen to what i said, she never does." mapi mumbled with a roll of her eyes as ingrid gave her a look.

"she has always listened to you love, she looks up to you so much its obvious for anyone to see. which is why she is so hurt by your response, then add in a break up in which she had no say and imagine how much pain she is in?" ingrid warned, guilt suddenly flooding the spaniards body as she sighed, burying her face in her hands.

"it is not up to you to say for either of them who they date, that is only up to them." ingrid warned sternly. "but she's my-" "no. she is her own person, and she deserves her own relationships without you adding in your negative opinion, which believe it or not actually means a lot to her. she was not wrong you can be very nosy, and very over protective." ingrid added on as mapi scoffed, but a harsh look from the tall brunette had her face softening.

"she is still your sister kjære, and she needs you. so you need to make things right with her, and with alexia!" ingrid finished as she stood, kissing her girlfriends head as bagheera pawed at mapi for attention, the defender scooping him up onto her lap with a deep sigh.

maybe she had really messed up here.

~

the next day you turned up to training early as usual, lucy was also early and so the two of you spent some time juggling to each other as the rest of your team mates arrivals trickled in.

"so how are you kid?" lucy asked, sending you a smile as you shrugged, flicking her the ball. "fine." you replied curtly, lucy abandoning any further attempts to coax you into being honest, sensing you were just not in the mood.

after breakfast with your sisters girlfriend yesterday your head was somewhat of a mess. ingrid had always been nothing but kind to you the entire time you'd known her, and had been easily welcomed into the family with open arms.

everyone saw the way she cared for your sister and the way your sister cared for her, in fact you probably spent just as much time with the norweigein as you did with your sister. the two of you shared a lot of common hobbies, hanging a lot one on one much to mapi's constant whining about being left out.

but her thin veil of tolerance for shopping only lasted so long, and so she was content to leave the two of you to your little bonding days. hours spent flitting from store to store, always returning to her home and showing her what you both bought as you'd stay for dinner and a movie.

so catching up with the tall brunette had been nice, and she had a way with her words that had you opening up to her for the first time about everything that happened, revealing exactly what was said and how it left you actually feeling.

ingrid had of course tried to coax you into coming back home with her to speak with your sister, assuring she would be there with you and would not allow you to be spoke to like that again. but you weren't ready, and she was not going to push you.

though it seemed she must have said something to your sister, as once the final whistle for training blew and you hung back for some extra shooting drills with sandra, you noticed mapi speaking with alexia.

you tried not to pay it any mind, the two walking away from everyone together clearly not speaking tactics for tomorrows game as they made sure they had no audience within earshot for their conversation.

after around a half hour sandra called it quits, patting you on the back for your efforts and retreating into the change rooms. you did some juggling for a moment to clear your head before you picked up the ball, also deciding you were done for the day.

though as you turned around you couldn't help but notice alexia and your sister walking back toward the few members of staff who were left, arms slung around one another and laughing at something, together.

the sight made your blood boil and you felt yet another knife stab you in the back.

the thought that neither of them were willing to apologize and try harder to fix things with you but were now best friends again as if your sister hadn't all but denounced their bond just a couple of weeks ago made you sick to your stomach.

so with a shake of your head you dropped the ball in your hands by the bag of them and stormed off back into the training facility. entering the change rooms there were only a few of your team mates left, most having left for the day already to rest up before the match tomorrow.

ingrid noticed your mood was off right away, glancing up from her phone as she waited for her girlfriend, watching carefully as your shoulders hunched over and you were quick to pack your things up.

normally you'd always shower before you left like a ritual, usually one of the last to leave because of this. so for you to be trying to exit as quick as possible she knew something was off.

pina who was sat at the locker next to you also noticed, frown forming on the younger girls face seeing you wipe away a few angry tears. "hey amiga what-" you shook your head furiously, cutting her words short and pushing away her hand which softly grabbed at your wrist.

ingrid stood to make a move toward you but was cut off as laughter sounded around the change rooms and the two causes of your bad mood entered, alexia shoving mapi for something she said as the shorter girl swung at her playfully, the two chattering away in spanish with large grins on their faces.

that was enough for you.

you slammed your locker closed with a force so hard you were surprised it didn't break, the loud bang causing everyone present to jump and look toward you in shock.

you zipped up your kit bag and pulled on a hoodie, slinging your bag over your shoulder and again brushing off pina who tried to speak with you.

having seen alexia and your sister had clearly made up and left you behind in their apologies your erratic out of character aggression all made sense now to ingrid who looked at you with a pained wince, understanding exactly why this would have hurt you further.

"hey hermana-" mapi grabbed you by the bicep as you tried to dart by you, holding you beside her with a frown. you pushed her off and sent both her and alexia a murderous glare, storming off out of the change rooms as mapi looked to her girlfriend with raised eyebrows.

ingrid sighed and beckoned her over to explain, knowing that if something didn't change soon things would only get worse.

~

on advice from her girlfriend to allow you some space to cool off, your sister waited until after the match before she approached you to try and talk.

alexia on the other hand without advice from anyone and worry for you growing with every day that passed that you refused to speak to her properly, did not.

you looked up from the floor as someone tapped your shoulder, pulling your headphones down to your neck with a cold stare up at the tall blonde stood in front of you.

"can we talk please?" alexia requested quietly, nodding for you to follow her as she lead you out of the change rooms and into one of the unoccupied recovery rooms.

"yes capitana?" you asked calmly, crossing your arms over your chest as you awaited what she had to say. "how are you?" alexia started, closing the door and moving in front of it, effectively blocking your exit with her own body.

"fine. but we have a match to prepare for if you are finished?" you replied impatiently, tapping your foot as the cold stare never dropped, making alexia's stomach tie itself into knots.

"cariño please i-"

"don't." you warned, feeling like someone squeezed your heart at the familiar term of endearment, something she no longer had any right to call you. "you need to remember to be professional with your teammates, capitana." you spoke bluntly, raising your chin as the older girl sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose.

"when are you going to drop this? just because we are no longer together does not give you the right to ignore me and act like a stubborn child." alexia warned, tone shifting causing you to scoff at her words.

"i am simply treating you as you treat a team mate. after all you can't have any problems with your girls, no?" you challenged, clenching your jaw in anger as you threw her words back at her with a bite.

"let me make this very clear alexia." you took a step toward her. "i am no longer someone you have any need to worry about beyond the field. i play well, i score, i work within the team to help us win, thats it." you started.

"unless i require the help or assistance of my captain, i owe you nothing. you left me without even giving me a chance to speak to you about anything, do not forget that." you warned, taking another step closer to her, the taller girl towering over you but you only found in her eyes a hidden fear of your next words to come.

"you acted like a child. you ran away the first moment things got tough. you left me there crying and hurt and alone when i needed you. and then you wait two weeks to speak with me? after you made up with my sister who hurled insults at you and at me in which you made no move at all to defend me." you poked at her chest with every sentence, the older girl allowing you to do so.

"so you do not get to tell me that i have no right to ignore you alexia. i warned you that if you left i would never speak to you again, so don't you dare make out that i am the problem here. you are a coward, i hope you and your best friend are very happy but stay away from me." your voice cracked at the end, betraying the obvious anger in your features as you wiped away a singular tear, shoving past the girl and leaving the small room, and again she made no move to follow after you.

your sisters attempts to fix things after a very successful 6-0 win had been met with the same icy demeanor.

"hermana we need to talk." she'd cornered you as you came out from the showers, crossing her arms over her chest as her eyes bore into yours and you sighed, making your way to your locker as she followed.

you didn't grace her with a response, only sat down and began to put your shoes on, mapi taking this as a silent agreement you were going to listen.

not wanting to do this in front of an audience she hovered around waiting for you, disappearing to the bathroom for a moment, frowning deeply when she noticed you'd already left on her return.

"joder!" she cursed under her breath, grabbing her bag quickly and sprinting out to the parking lot hoping she wasn't too late. thankfully for her you'd been cornered yet again though this time by pina and patri who were begging you come out with them tonight.

"the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else amiga!" pina tried, causing patri to frown and punch her rather harshly in the arm for the insensative comment. though the interaction had graced them with a small smile of amusement from you.

"so you will come?" patri begged, clasping her hands together as both girls pouted at you hopefully. "fine!" you agreed begrudgingly, admittedly missing the chance to bond with your team mates and friends with your voluntary self isolation.

both girls hugging you tightly and kissing your cheek you shoved them away playfully, agreeing for patri to pick you up later to assure you couldn't bail out on them.

though as they left and you slid into your car, looking forward to a few hours of time to yourself it seemed the universe had other ideas.

you jumped as someone suddenly opened your passenger door, sliding in and swiftly yanking your keys out of the ignition, your sister slipping them into the side pocket of her backpack and out of your reach.

"give them back and get out maría." you warned, jaw clenched and giving her the most fierce glare you could muster. but your older sister knew you far too well to ever be intimidated by you as she shook her head firmly.

"no, i meant it we need to talk." she started, dropping her backpack by her feet and crossing her arms staring you down. you let out a long and tired groan at the situation, head coming to rest on your steering wheel with a small thump.

"talk then." you waved for her to speak, closing your eyes and resting your head back on the seat, tucking your knees to your chest. "are you going to listen?" your sister asked, raising an eyebrow.

"no but you are welcome to talk." you kept your eyes closed, swearing and smacking her hands away as she pinched you sharply with a warning glare. "sorry i am too stupid to listen. just a selfish little girl who knows nothing!" you spat her own words back at her as she winced.

"you did not listen to me when i tried to talk to you, so why do you suddenly deserve that?" you asked, glaring right back at her unwilling to back down.

"pequeño-" "don't." you warned her at the nickname, causing her to sigh and look up at the roof, thinking about her next words carefully.

"i was very angry and i spoke without thinking. i said some terrible and awful things i didn't mean and i cannot say enough how sorry i am for them. and for pushing you and for yelling at you and not listening, for all of my behavior." she started as you glared out the window beside you, refusing to look at her.

"you know i love you more than anyone hermana, and as your big sister i have always looked out for you because of that. i thought that's what i was doing here and i was wrong, i know now that i don't get to say who you can and cannot love. it doesn't matter who it is, so long as you are happy and treated right thats all that should matter." mapi explained softly, a slight begging present in her tone as you again ignored her and stared out the window.

"what do i have to do to make things up with you? do i have to beg? because i will beg!" your sister warned seriously, clasping her hands together with a pleading look. "please don't." you mumbled with a roll of her eyes.

"i will! i'll do it!" mapi promised seriously and you heard her shifting around beside you. sparing her a glance you saw she had shuffled so that she was on her knees on the car seat, hands clasped together tightly still. "please? please, please, please, please? please, please-" your sister began to repeat over and over.

"ay dios mío. stop it!" your arm reached out to shove her but it did nothing as she continued, repeating the word over and over which grated at you.

"fine! just shut up mapi por favor. and give me my keys back!" you gave in with a groan, burying your face in your hands as she finally ceased her begging.

"i knew that would work." the older girl grinned happily, moving to sit back down as you shot her a glare. "i'm still annoyed with you. this is going to take time and i want to be left alone until i'm ready!" you warned, holding out your hand for your keys which your sister dropped into your palm.

"okay. and i will be right here whenever you're ready, because again hermana i love you, more than anyone." she promised sincerely as you hummed, sticking your key back in the ignition.

"i'm not saying it back, you can get out now." you nodded for her to leave as your sister sighed but understood, leaning over to kiss your cheek before finally leaving.

~

"see! don't you feel better already?" patri grinned, sliding in next to you and handing you a drink. "give me a few of these and we'll see chica." you smiled, clinking your glass against hers as a few more of your team mates arrived.

"how many people did you two ask?" you frowned, leaning in closer to the two girls who'd dragged you out in the first place who shared a look. "everyone." they both answered in sync as you sighed, fearing that would be the answer.

sure enough shortly after did your sister and ingrid arrive, but to your surprise mapi gave you your space, sending you a nod and a small smile before sitting at the other end of the table as ingrid came over to give you a hug.

"i'm proud of you elskling." the taller girl mumbled as she hugged you tightly, rubbing your back and kissing your cheek before joining your sister at the other end.

as another hour ticked by it seemed most of the team was here and you started to relax, assuming it was now far too late for your rule loving anti mid season drinking ex girlfriend to bother coming out.

of course though you spoke far too soon as you heard cheers and looked up to see she had arrived, dragging her younger sister along with her. or rather it would seem alba had dragged her here given the obvious look of displeasure on alexia's face.

she made no move to greet you which you were grateful for, hovering down the other end of the table. alba on the other hand sat herself right next to you, slinging her arms over both you and pina with a grin.

"vamos chicas! i think i have some catching up to do, no?" the younger putellas stole your drink, downing it with a wink as you couldn't help but smile.

despite your burning anger at her sister you couldn't find it in your heart to be mad at alba, the two of you had always gotten along well even if she was also none the wiser to your dating history with alexia.

and you were determined to have a good night, it was what you deserved.

"come on amiga, it's time to dance!" several drinks later and alba had grabbed your hands, dragging you along with her to where half of the team was already on the dance floor.

"hey chica, she's hot!" the younger putellas whistled as she spun you around and pointed to a tall brunette who was very clearly making eyes at you a few feet away.

"vamos amiga off you go!" alba suddenly shoved you in her direction when you did not expect it, your state of intoxication causing you to stumble as the brunette grabbed at you. "hola." she grinned down at you, helping you to steady yourself.

though they may not have been sincere pina's words from earlier echoed around your head. this girl was hardly unattractive, in fact as your taste in women went she really was exactly who you'd normally be drawn to.

glancing over her shoulder you saw alba, patri and aitiana gesturing for you to dance with her with eager grins as you shook your head. "lo siento, my friends can be...forceful in their wing womaning." you smiled causing the girl to let out a laugh.

as the two of you began to dance together and the alcohol rose to your head, your hesitations faded and you started to relax, grinding a little more into her and allowing the tall stranger whose name you were still yet to learn become a little more intimate in her touches, allowing her to kiss you a few times but pulling away before they became anything more.

what you failed to notice was two hazel eyes locked on you from across the room, alexia burning with a fierce jealousy that she knew she had no right to.

"hey ale, you alright?" lucy asked quietly from beside her, having noticed what the captain was staring so intently at. "fine." alexia mumbled, eyes still locked on you as now your sister took notice of what she was looking at.

though with a belly full of tequila and ingrid distracted in conversation with sandra and keira, there was no one to filter her next words. "ay capitana! stop staring and go get your girl then." mapi grinned drunkenly, lucy cringing at her words.

but if alexia heard them she made no move to acknowledge it, though it seemed she had as she suddenly stood, grabbing her bag and her keys ignoring lucy's attempts to stop her.

"should we get out of here bonita?" the girl murmured in your ear, her hand already having slipped just up the inside of your dress. "let me just go to the bathroom and we can leave." you grinned, kissing her cheek as she let you go, your friends watching on carefully as you stumbled away.

alba went to go after you, having just agreed with patri that you'd had your fun and a dance with the tall brunette but were too drunk to be leaving with her right now.

but as she saw a flash of blonde follow after you she turned back to the girls with a shrug, assuming her sister would take care of you instead.

you did your business and stood, the room spinning slightly as you shook your head, fixing your dress and kicking the stall door open. but as you right away saw the all too familiar figure leant against the counter clearly waiting for you, you scoffed and rolled your eyes which wasn't lost on alexia.

you chose to ignore her as she called your name, moving to wash your hands and take a moment to breathe, your head still spinning slightly as you'd stood too quickly.

"take a picture it'll last longer capitana." you snapped to the blonde who wouldn't cease staring at you, twirling her keys around her finger as she did, causing an irritating jingle to echo repeatedly around the bathroom.

"you can wave goodbye to your friend, we're leaving." alexia stated firmly, grabbing your wrist as you tried to move past her toward the door. "you wish." you laughed bitterly, trying to pull away as her grip only tightened. "let go of me." you spoke through gritted teeth in warning.

"no. you can hardly walk, i am taking you home before you do something stupid." alexia shook her head at your current state. "the only stupid thing i did was think you were capable of loving me, now let go of me alexia!" you spat venomously, unable to filter your words in your intoxicated state, a slight slur to them.

"it is because i love you that i will not let you go home with someone who couldn't care less about you and only wants to take advantage of you, you're too drunk to consent to anything. so we are leaving, now!" the catalan growled, both of your heads turning sharply to look to the bathroom door as it swung open.

"what is going on in here?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

part four

[dreamauri]

♪ — 𝗔𝗗𝗝𝗔𝗖𝗘𝗡𝗧 𝗟𝗔𝗡𝗘𝗦 carlos sainz jr. x fem! swimmer! reader (fluff) “. . . you are carlos' pool crush, he gets all nervous around you, but little does he know.”

( main master list | more of carlos sainz ) ( requests | taglist )

"Oh no." Carlos paused, backing out the door and closing it behind him. "What is it? What's wrong?" "She's here." The Spaniard looked at the camera man blinking silently. They were filming a new season of don't blink, which included pre-season training. And that training consisted of swimming.

"I can't swim in these." Carlos mumbled going back the washroom. "What? You chose them." "No I didn't, shh." He was wearing swim trunks with Charles Leclerc's face on, a joke between the two Ferrari drivers. But after seeing you doing your laps? Yeah, he's not going to risk embarrassing himself.

After returning with normal swimming trunks, Carlos hoped into the lane next to yours. You didn't have your swim cap nor swim goggles on, so he didn't have swim cap nor swim goggles on abandoning them somewhere. Safe to say he was influenced by you.

"My eyes are burning." He complained to the camera on the break, rubbing his eyes. "Chlorine doesn't like me." "I thought you had goggles?" Were you talking to him? He looked at you, pointing to himself to check you were talking to him. Unsure what to say next, Carlos feels nervous he'd mess up his image in your eyes. "I could ask you the same." He shrugged, a small smile on his face.

"I lost mine, and the ones I have don't fit me anymore. but I usually wear them. Chlorine does not like me." You mumbled, not realizing you repeated a sentence of his from 2 seconds ago. "Here." You handed him the spare. "You can use them if they fit." And they did. And for the rest of the workout, Carlos felt giddy. Like a girl who stole her boyfriend's hoodie.

"How do you do uhh, those turns, on the wall." "Flip turns?" You asked wiping your eyes to look at him. God bless Rupert for letting him share his breaks with yours. "Do you know how to do font turns in the water?" "No?" "I guess I'll teach you the way I was taught." You laughed smiling, an expression Carlos was sure would bring him enough luck to beat Max throughout the season.

"So curl around the lane rope, in a ball." And he did. "I'm going to roll you, and you're going to breath out of your nose. That's the most important part." But he didn't, quickly forgetting after feeling your warm hands on his calves and back.

"My brain hurts." He breathed in as soon as his head emerged. You laughed face palming. "I told you to breath out of your nose?" "I forgot." "How? I just told you." Man, he was putting 'book humour lessons' in his to do list now. That laugh was equal to a thousand suns.

Soon after, Carlos was able to do flip turns, and you challenged him to a 100 meters race. Which he gladly accepted, knowing you'd win anyways. And you did, even without goggles and going easy on him. "That was a good race, thank you." You reached your hand over the rope to shake his and Carlos gladly took it.

"I'm Carlos by the way." He introduced shyly. "Carlos Sainz, yes I know. F1 Ferrari driver." You chuckled smiling widely. "Pretty cool." It wasn't possible to fall for you even more. He watched as you climbed out of the pool.

"Wait your goggles." You looked back at Carlos who held out the item for you. "You keep them. They look better on you." Hes definitely blushing like a tomato. "I'll be seeing you again Mr. Sainz at the Spanish Grand Prix." You nodded before walking off into the women's shower room.

"I'm in love." Carlos mumbled, which unfortunately for him, the camera heard. "You don't even know her name, Mate."

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

"Is that . . . olympic gold medalist, Y/N L/N?" David Croft moved through the crowd. "Y/N! Hello. Such a pleasant surprise." He caught your attention quickly. "Buen día." [good morning] you greeted with a polite smile. "It's certainly a surprise seeing you here. How are you?" "I'm doing well, how are you?" "Well I'm doing good, thank you for asking."

"Which team will you be chearing for today?" "Uhh, no none really. I support all teams and drivers equally. I am rooting for Ferrari's 55 though. I think he deserves a home win." You nodded, a gentle smile covering your face.

"Thank you, Y/N." He shook your hand before moving on to Nymar. Your hands were in your pockets as you walked through the grid looking at your cars. Although this being your first time on the grid, you were not new to the sport.

"You never told me you were an Olympic champion." Startled by the from behind, you jumped turning around only to meet the eyes of the Spaniard through the peak of his helmet. "Y/N L/N, I remember the name now." He chuckled, you could see the smile in his eyes.

"That's a pretty race suit." You complemented standing beside the Spanish driver. "Why thank you." He bowed jokingly. "I was starting to think you weren't going to come." He'd been waiting for you all weekend just for you to show up on race day, which he would say was a good thing because he was on a front row start.

"I promised, didn't I?" You smiled, admiring his eyes through the helmet peak. "Let's make a deal. If you win, dinner is on me tonight." "Add your number to the equation and make it a date." You laughed nodding. "It's a deal."

So you waited, concentrating the whole race on the Ferrari driver. And when you did see him again, Carlos was holding home race trophy with a wide smile. "Where are we eating? Was the first thing he asked, exited about your little date.

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

youruser

liked by pieregasly carlossainz55 and 9M others youruser I think he liked the champagne 🍾 congrats @carlossainz55

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

"Can I drive?" You asked once you reached his car. He looked at you for a few seconds before tossing you the keys. Having dinner with you was much more fun than he expected and now, the two of you would be making your way towards where the Ferrari team would be celebrating their podiums.

"Just don't kill us." He laughed watching you observe all the unique features of an expensive sports car. "I'm a swimmer not a driver." You teased, before starting the car and taking off.

"OH JESUS."

[alcqraz]

★ summary — after yet another tough loss in the australian open, y/n finds solace within her boyfriend. ˖˙ ꔫ —★★★★ pairing: carlos alcaraz x fem!reader ˖˙ ꔫ —★★★ content warnings. n/a. carlos being a cutie patootie? ˖˙ ꔫ —★★ word count. 3.2k ˖˙ ꔫ —★ genre. fluff. it's carlos. what do you expect? ★ authors note: for the girls! i really need to write some x male!reader for myself... ben drabble coming next and then we go from there. also ugh, he's so cute i love him so much. after 6 decades, 4 redbulls and 25 million complaints, you shalt recieve whatever the hell this monstrosity is... i apologize, this is terrible. ⠀⠀⠀❛⠀⠀ @yungbludz ; @csainzcalcaraz ; idk who else to tag.

Bitterness was an odd sort of sensation. It wrapped around the heart within a warp of seamless, thick fog- the cold tendrils seeping into the crevices of positivity that she deemed to find after such a loss. It whispered to Y/N in moments where she stood in front of the media, rumbling off a number of responses given by her public relations manager. One for which she believed to have almost no effect upon her relationship with the public. It lingered, like some sort of lurking shadow amongst the thoughts that crowded her back of mind as the reality delved deep into her bones. As the media had swooped down as vultures and ripped her performance apart with each piece of mindless critique that, most of the time, could be said to have been terribly wrong.

She’d known the drill. Exchanging hands with the devil within every turn that crossed her path, with every early round exit that haunted her presence as she packed up to head towards the next tournament. One which would lead to the abiding taste of victory or once again; bitterness. It followed her every step, with every ground stroke, with every serve missed. It was only when the umpire would shout out the words- game, set match; followed by a name that was not hers, would she realize. It settled in slowly; similar to the dust that set on the shelves after being unused for far too long, and eventually did she finally feel the truth of it all. 

Australia seemed to disdain her existence as a whole. Y/N had decidedly chosen to believe so after a handful of upsets. Within the premises of a place far too beautiful to be spiteful, does she drown within her sorrows of the match. The Australian Open always rubbed like salt within her wounds, lost matches after lost matches, and she wondered to herself what she could possibly be doing wrong with her career. It was not as if it were common. Undoubtedly, Y/N would lose; just as the greatest to ever have played the game had done so before, but within the years that passed by, it only tended to happen with a good run. Perhaps losing upon the semi-finals or the finals could be regarded as a wider received upset, however the expectation that crawled upon her skin with every waking moment only pressured her further to go for a deeper run.

And yet, as the sun dipped lower upon the evening-lit sky, it sank deep within the horizon as such a carefully crafted and cared for gold coin slipping into the darkened waves of the ocean. Casting hues of colors that in any other situation, Y/N would find extraordinary. What was not to appreciate a good sunset for? But it was not the stunning beauty of the sunset that plastered her thoughts, and to her utter surprise and relief, was also not the stalling weight of the loss. Instead, her mind subconsciously drifted to the Spaniard that she knew would be waiting upon her arrival. 

Carlos was never one short of a support system for Y/N. In a sort of way, she wonders faintly what she would do without his constant encouragement and advocacy. Who would be there for her after such a loss? Who would be the one to woefully wrap their arms around her as she doubted her ability, the one who would whisper sweet nothings into her ears until she truly believed it? Y/N knew that she couldn’t escape it again this time, despite the need to potentially be alone for multiple hours before truly being in a mindset to talk to others without resulting in a bout of tension due to snappy answers. 

She knew that he would’ve watched the match. Sitting atop his hotel room bed in which she had fallen asleep in for many days beforehand, never daring to book a shared room due to the fear of being caught by, not his team, but others. News outlets, reporters- those who would do nothing less than to dwell low for an eye-catching title. Sprawled across the sheets, she could imagine him, his mouth pursed into a tight line; not at the loss, but at the disappointed glances the camera would’ve caught with ease. He never cared for her results, not in that sense, but in the sense of that he would not judge her for an early round exit such as today. The only thing that mattered to him would’ve been what she had felt- frustration, agitated, disappointed, seemed to all be on the table on this fateful night.

And in a certain light, she looked forward to those tender moments. The feeling of a ripple of being loved and appreciated within an ocean of critical and in times, cruel comments that had been made of her. For her tennis, her looks, her image; there always appeared to be something to grumble about albeit it be for the tiniest, most inconspicuous things. Carlos always shook his head, his head of grown hair shaking in such a way that was endearing to Y/N. He’d reach over, gently plucking the phone from his hands although unable to hide his pique of interest in what his girlfriend so… encapsulated. He’d learnt quickly that it was never good in instances as such. 

There would be some form of tension as the Spaniard would look up, an odd frown stretching across his face. It never fit him right- frowning, it just didn’t feel right, like a human in an animal enclosure. Unbelonging. Conceivably, it was because she was used to his bright, joyous and up-lifting grin, that goofy smile that could assault a ray of light upon the darkest of days. Seeing the opposite of it was unfathomable. There would be a mumble of words, half mixed with Spanish as he would set the phone down, an arm slowly easing up to provide a source of comfort. 

Arguably, the drive back to the exquisite hotel in which she had been assigned could be determined to be the longest and shortest drive she’d ever experienced. The driver made no attempt to start a conversation in any variation, instead decidedly for the better, kept his mouth tightly shut. Y/N had assumed that one not so nice glance, which- for the record, she did not mean to give, shut him up real quick as from a viewpoint, he looked fairly friendly. Like the sort of person to make small talk with strangers without making either party feel vastly uncomfortable. She’d never gotten out of a place faster in her life. Mumbling out a soft thank you, because if honesty was policy, it was the least she could do after such a drive.

She was thankful that at least the hotel had a welcoming atmosphere, the constant chatter of guests that could care less of her arrival. Or even better, did not recognize her for who she was. Her team had followed back within another car, not that Y/N had requested so, but it felt more of a moral perception. They knew what to leave things at, and she could come to appreciate having a group of people that understood. Within the dynamic lighting in the building, she could vaguely make out one of the tournament cars pulling into the entrance. 

Hauling the bag that slung across a singular shoulder, and quietly adjusting the hanging strap, Y/N stumbles her way back towards her room. The hallway stood eerily silent, the usual foreigner- or group of foreigners had either disappeared into the night, taken an early exit, or drunk on a dance floor. The latter, she had assumed. Notionally, it would’ve been far better than having to be questioned by the eyes of another guest, making polite small-talk as the elevator shuddered and picked up its pace. They’d wish her luck, not knowing the slaughter that had happened on court not even hours before. 

A part of Y/N wants to immediately head over to Carlos’s room. To drop everything and melt within his strong arms, to go home. But she knew better than to show up at his front door, sweaty, pissed off and with an arm load of bags. And so she resisted, grumbling a number of curses as she punched in the floor that her suite had been on, waiting as the elevator whirred to its heart's content. It feels far too long, the walk back grudging and slow, with every drag of her foot feeling as she were walking through puddles of wet concrete. Perhaps it was the exhaustion after a match dwelling down, or perhaps it’s the mental aspect of everything- Y/N never could truly pinpoint this feeling, despite the half-hearted attempts at understanding.

Her bags are carelessly strewn across the floor, allowing her jacket to fall upon one of the unused chairs of her suite. The room is big; far too big for a single person living in it, and whilst Y/N had admired the spaciousness of the area when she had first arrived, now it had felt more despondent than ever. Even showering felt enervating, too hot for a minute, then too cold for another, and she wonders how such an expansive hotel could reserve for a lavish waterfall in its lobby, yet not have enough for a capable showerhead. She had to admit though, she’d felt better after such a shower, muscles relaxing and the stench being wafted away within a moment's notice. It feels as if she’d done it a million times, coming back after a match, trying to take a relaxing shower before she was to be grilled by her coach for the next. It felt more of a simulation, as if things were repeating itself over and over again, like a clock resetting after every twelve hours. The only time that would differ would be around Carlos, the Spaniard making time feel irrelevant to the universe, until it was only them that mattered. Nothing else, nothing more.

It’s always for that reason she found herself back in this position, new comfortable clothing that hung loosely around her shoulders, hair up for it to dry faster. There would be no makeup involved, she’d known Carlos for long enough that she knew he could not care for what she looked like in these moments. Instead, worrying about further issues. It’s almost embarrassing how many times she found solace within him, as he would finally open that god damn door to his hotel room, that stupid smile that could light up the entire town, the way he never seemed less excited to see Y/N no matter how many times he’d actually seen her. He was so… how could he be so… she never grasped at how or why, never could comprehend. It never changed. 

“Y/N?”

Carlos peers curiously, eyes glinting with a sort of inquisitiveness no one else could replicate. That look, the one that Y/N could never get used to, one that shone like the moon upon a dim evening sky. “Estas bien?”His words cut through the uttered silence, his head cocking to the side like a mackerel. For a moment, she profoundly forgot where she was, taking more than just a second to process the Spaniard’s words.

Her eyelids flutter, open and shut, shut then open, as if trying to clear a haze that had clouded her vision. Deliberately, she let her head sway from one side to another, strands of hair falling from the elastic that held her hair together. “Oh, uh-” She stumbles over her words, as if she were suddenly at a loss, a lump forming cautiously within the midsts of her throat. “Yes, yeah- I’m fine, estoy bien.” The words feel jumbled as it comes out of her mouth, as if she hadn’t spoken in many years before advancing her way towards Carlos.

He looks around, protruding his head from the frame of the wooden door, as if he were searching for something, or perchance, it was looking out for her. When he had decidedly chosen that the coast could be deemed as clear, Carlos gently ushers Y/N in, a hand swiping behind her back and brushing her into the room. It’s far messier than her room, as well, Carlos was Carlos and old habits die hard, but it feels much more of a humble abode. The smell of Carlos wafts airly within the room, like a warm, familiar embrace, dancing lightly throughout the suite. It wraps around like a fuzzy blanket, easing the tension that spooked through her veins, allowing her to sink into a contraption of intimacy. 

Carlos’s mouth opens, as if he were to say something, but he hesitates wearily. Y/N is sure that it’s because he doesn’t want to say the wrong thing, that would rub her in the wrong way. The thought stings a little, knowing that Carlos felt as if he couldn’t say what he truly thought to her without the fear of retaliation. “No estuvo mal.” He says the words slowly, dragging across his tongue, syllable by syllable. “Te veías bien.”

There’s a hint of truth that comes with his words, Carlos didn’t enjoy lying, especially to her, Y/N quickly realized soon into their relationship. He knew of the pain of hearing those around him lying of how he played- good or bad. He discerned, to only speak of the truth. Yet he also, deep down, fathomed that she would not believe what he said despite the sincerity. Knew that it was a battle already lost, and there was not much he could do about it other than whisper caring endearments until the discomfort of the loss passed. 

“It didn’t feel good.” She responds, not quite a snap back to Carlos, but more of a defense mechanism to protect herself. 

“Losing does not feel good ever, yes?” His words are coated with an accent, one that she found more endearing than anything else. The attempt was enough to fill a crack of her heart with warmth, and it only grows further as Carlos takes a couple steps in to enfold his arms around Y/N, in a well meant attempt to shield her from any negative critiques or thoughts. “Pero eso no significa que no fuera bueno, ¿verdad?”

She knew what was to come. Knew the little spiel of words he had crafted carefully within his mind. He would remind her of the positives. Of how it could do more good than bad, and that it was just a single tournament in an ocean of others. She would come back, win the next title, and all would be forgotten as the media turned back to the bouts of adoration for her antics and play style. 

Carlos sighs, shaking his head in such a manner of disappointment. “Ven aqui.” He mumbles softly, his words barely breaking the silence that touched the room. He takes a few purposeful steps toward the bed, tugging her alongside him. His touch lingers, a gentle pressure that presses Y/N against the comfortable mattress in a way that feels tender and intimate, exuding a warmth and familiarity that only Carlos could convey to her. It’s a moment cuddled with unspoken connection, where every brush of his hand spoke volumes of the devotion he felt.

There was nothing she would want more, nothing that could comfort her in such a way that it made the whole world feel at peace. He could make her forget in a number of ways, but this- his body pressed up against hers, breath hot against her skin as he tangled them into a spooning position. It feels as if heaven were on Earth, the sensations greater than whatever pleasure tennis could bring to her. “Todo va a estar bien, si?” Carlos whispers, carrying not only a sense of warmth but tinged with secrecy as well. A sacred space that only withled the two of them, with no allowed space for others. A fleeting moment, that has Y/N’s heart thumping within her body.

“Maybe if you’re always here after I lose in straight sets.” 

Her response isn’t biting, it’s not bitter as she would’ve expected it to be. Perhaps it was because he found it nearly impossible to act so rudely towards Carlos. He smiles though, in an answer, his lips stretching lazily into that stupid, stupid grin. “Siempre estaré aquí para ti, amor.” Carlos says, lips just tracing over the lobes of her ears, and for a moment, Y/N shuddered at the touch- so intimate and close, so indescribable. His fingers lay on her delicate skin, one that had been soaked upon sweat just hours ago, and it feels as if the area had been set on fire. His touch warm and fascinating, his lips soft and ginger as he slowly bestows a kiss on her own. 

It’s a feeling Y/N would never be able to shake off no matter how many times it happened. The elusive tingle that tinged up her spine, then throughout her bones, every nerve as if it had been lit on fire. The way his hands slowly caresses her face, not intruding and not pushing for anything further, just to have her in such a way that only the luckiest woman in the world could imagine to have. And when he pulls away, it leaves Y/N yearning for more, eyes trying to convey a message of need and desire. But Carlos is quick to shake his head, and although dismay aligns across his features, he’s firm about it. 

“Descansa un poco” He murmurs, turning so that Y/N would lay on the mattress in a manner that he knew she’d prefer to anything else. Likewise, she was tired. In spite of everything- the match, the weight of the loss, the media that gawked, their smirks playing along their faces as she spoke, every word a better headline for them, in a fashion of twisting her own words and using them to stab her against the back. It was, perhaps, the worst part of tennis, one that Y/N wished she could evaporate with a snap of her fingers. But she could not, she did not have the power to do so, and it was not as if it would be of any use if she had tried. 

With a defiant huff of a breath, she tried to ease the restlessness that lodged between her bones, letting her eyes fall shut, easing into an acquainted darkness. With the pressure of Carlos around her, the soft breathing that snuck in and out, sweeping across her right ear, Y/N mitigates into a calming state of bliss. One in which she only found moments like these, where she did not have to shine as a radiant poster boy, where she could finally just let herself be. And during that interval where she felt not quite asleep, yet not awake either, she smiles to herself, knowing that for one, she could rest easy for the time being. That she was safe, within the consolation of home. 

[nerdieforpedro]

Wyrms and Soggy Milk

Chapter Three of Fire and Fury

Pero Tovar x Calista (fat/plus size OFC)

My entire masterlist and blog are for readers 18+ MDNI. I do not consent to my work being used in AI, recommended on TikTok, borrowed or plagiarized.

Summary: Arriving at the church was supposed to be a reprieve, it proves to be anything but. By the end of their continued troubles , Pero ends up confused and in a tub. Calista may have the advantage.

Warnings: (Dark Fic/DDDNE - violence and threats of SA) time-period misogyny, blood, mentions of some gore, insults, mention of sex work, way too much milk talk, unlawful use of scales (unsure if there's a lawful use?), Pero in a tub

Word Count: about 5.2k

Notes: I tried my best with writing fight scenes, I think the chapter ended up long because of it but they should make sense. It’s my second or third time writing one so I’m hopeful? 🤔 Let me know how it reads.

Main Masterlist/ Pero Tovar Masterlist/ AO3 Link

Meeting the Father

The sun hung low in the sky by the time they reached the church Pero and William had stopped by before heading into the forest yesterday. The trio had settled from their bickering as fatigue and hunger quieted them. Father Ignacio spotted them in the distance. He recognized the two men, but had never seen the woman before, she didn’t look like anyone from his flock from the nearby village.

As the small group comes closer, the priest is able to make out more details about the woman with the two mercenaries: this does not bode well for him. He was hopeful maybe she was older, but she appears young, full-bodied with a silver and light green dress stained with blood. Her hair is an unusual mix of the same mint green and black. What draws Father Ignacio is her lips, a vibrant bold pink. Such a color on a woman and given her clothing, he assumes that the two men have found a woman of the night to share for the night possibly, though there is something about her that doesn’t quite fit with the usual defeated look of those women. For one to enter the church, he must make it clear to Pero and William that no matter what they may have paid for, no such activity can take place under God’s house.

“Hey Father! I found him! I found Pero! You were wrong, though I’m not quite sure what happened after but we’re all okay I think.” William bounced up to the older gentleman and hugged him. Pero scoffed and Calista stood behind the Spaniard. She’s weary of men in robes, they tend to call her kind the embodiment of evil and try to hunt them. Not that any of their so-called holy relics to any more than make dragons itch. She feels vulnerable since she knows she’s weaker than normal. 

“I see that Will. Who is your lady companion? I don’t remember either of you mentioning a third person.” Father Ignacio’s eyes are fixed on Calista, those sinful lips, bright honey eyes that have what looks to be paint on her eyelids. Some of the noblewomen wore adornments like that on their faces. Draws men into temptation, makes them commit acts they wouldn’t normally. But she cannot be turned away, the sun is nearly gone from the sky now and darkness is taking hold of the heavens. Such horror would befall a woman like her if left alone. “What is your name my girl?” The priest didn’t mean for it to sound vulgar, but she brings it out of him. He’ll need to be far away from her but this woman proves captivating. The Father would rather not put too much distance between them. A healthy about, room enough for The Lord if you will.

“This is Calista. We rescued her from some wolves in the forest. She’s staying with us so we can see her into town. She got lost while traveling.” William explained and Pero nodded. Ignacio assumed that what the pale one said was indeed a lie, but one to likely preserve her dignity given who the priest believes she really is. 

“That will not be acceptable William. She’ll need her own room. This is the house of the Lord after all. Come. Let’s get the three of you cleaned and fed.” He smiles and William returns it, Pero does briefly and Calista doesn’t smile at all. They follow the older man into the inner part of the church past the congregation hall. He stops and points that William and Pero will share a room at the end of the long hallway they have turned down. Calista’s room would be in the middle of the hallway since normally there are men studying to be priests there but given the notoriety or the forest, few come to accept the call. 

“I would prefer to stay with my protectors, good sir.” Calista informed the priest, feeling the words were foreign on her tongue. He’s been watching her this entire time. She may be a young dragon and had limited experience in the human world but she knows how many men view women, especially men whose eyes follow her with such clear intentions. Instinctively, she crosses her arms to cover her chest, much of which is exposed from the low cut of her dress. Now he wishes to separate her from the group, such a basic tactic.

“I agree with the lady Father. She is our responsibility and should remain with us.” Pero steps between her and the Father. He knows men like this priest, who act holier than most but if given the funds, access and anonymity, they would live in a brothel. Father Ignacio takes a step back, the Spaniard is intimidating to say the least and the priest is sure that he has no qualms about spilling blood in a house of God. William is watching the exchange between the three and is trying to think of a compromise, it’s a bad one, but it’s better than being run out of the village for killing this man.

“Father. Pero. Let’s just sort this out.” His hands are raised as the pale warrior speaks. “Now, Father,” William turns to face Ignacio, “Miss Calista is under our protection. We can’t very well leave her unattended and unguarded, that would go against the agreement we’ve made to see her safely home.” He slaps his palms on the Father’s shoulders and smiles. “Now I believe, there should be two sleeping quarters next to each other because I know that’s what your true issue lies despite it not being a true concern at all.” The priest begrudging looks at Calista, then Pero, and back to Calista. He is not convinced that there will not be some sort of illicit activity happening, but it is also a fair alternative. He has lost this round, but the battle is not over yet.

“Fine young William. I shall show you all two rooms that should work and are side by side.” The older man huffs and walks down the long hallway and turns the corner. Neither William nor Pero realized the church was quite this large when they first came here though they’d only been in the vestibule and chapel, never any further. Calista’s head is swiveling side to side observing the tapestries hanging on the wall, gold and silver adorning the walls and various prayers etched in Latin. That part seemed strange, usually words aren't etched into the walls of churches. There's too many questions raised about these priests here to Calista, but she remains silent for now. She needs to keep playing the part of the helpless woman. She hated the role and that it was closer to the truth than she would ever admit. The four finally reached the two rooms that Ignacio had to offer. Each room had two twin beds, were clean, had a nightstand and two candles each that could be lit for light. There was a door in the middle connecting the two rooms, the priest said that he would be right back with a change of clothes for each of them. The three inspected the rooms and were satisfied by the accommodations. 

“I'm looking forward to sleeping somewhere soft.” Calista plopped down on one of the twin beds in the first room, Pero was finishing up a walk through of the second room, it was quick as both rooms were equally small. William nodded, sitting across from the young dragon on the opposite bed. He sighed and was trying to figure out better sleeping arrangements, this wasn't what he expected from a man of the cloth. He looked for the good in people which wasn't always there, no matter what their station or profession. Pero stood with arms crossed, scowl on his face per usual, except this time he was squinting his eyes at William.

“William, we can't stay here. I don't care what you told that priest. I know you're still recovering from what that gray dragon did but you saw how that bastard-” He raises his hand and Pero huffs. 

“Look, I know Pero. How was I supposed to know he was like this? He's a priest!” William laments, rubbing his temples. Normally, the church takes any and everyone who walks through their doors. Apparently, the two mercenaries have the unfortunate luck of finding one of the corrupt ones. Always their lot. One break, could they just get one break?!

“You can't trust any of them. They're all assholes. How are we getting out of here?” The Spaniard is set on leaving. Calista rolls her eyes and stands to pinch Pero's nose. “Mierda (shit)! What was that for?!” He quickly grabs his nose as she takes a step back, clicking her tonuge. 

“You two are ridiculous. Yes, he is disgusting, but there are warm beds and you're forgetting that I am a dragon - human form yes, but a dragon. It will be in that priest's best interest to leave me be. If he does not, he'll go meet the god he speaks of.” Her eyes flash jade to match the wicked smile that graces her face. Pero throws his hands up and sits on the bed opposite William where Calista once sat. 

“Do what you want, dragón pequeño (little dragon). You're clearly going to.” Pero still hates this entire idea. He'd sleep outside at this rate, and he always prefers a bed over the ground any day. Calista was about to make another remark, but there's a knock at the door. Father Ignacio is back.

William is the one who answers the door, he knows if Pero answers it, he might punch the father in the face to start. A forced smile is on his face as he greets the portly priest, hopefully for the last time tonight. “I brought changes of clothes for all three of you. You can wash up before eating.” Is what the older man leads with. Gods, he won't quit will he?

“Thank you Father. We're tired so we're just going to wash our hands, eat, sleep, then be up early in the morning. Want to get Calista safely to the village. Need an early start for that.” At this point, just having food and uninterrupted sleep are luxuries. Frowning, Ignacio nods and carries the clothes as he walks the trio to a small wash area where two seminarians are finishing up cleaning their hands before quickly leaving upon seeing the two mercenaries. Their eyes linger on Calista as it's rare for women to be in this part of the church outside of the nuns who visit on occasion and especially during the night. After washing their hands, sitting down to eat a meal was not the worst. Their bellies were full for the time being and the stew had a passible taste. The walk back to their rooms was unaccompanied by the good father. Pero insisted that Calista sleep in one of the twin beds and William sleep on the floor. He could use one of the mattresses. When asked why he would be the one to sleep on the floor, Pero snickered.

“You made a fuss about stopping in at the local church. Even though I told you we would have been better off to skip it. That's your bed.” At this, William sucked his teeth. Yeah he had told Pero that, but in all the other churches they've visited in their travels, only one other priest was filled with something other than the holy spirit.

“Fine. I'll just be happy to be on something other than the ground, though it won't be much better. As long as I can finally get some sleep.” Pero and William dragged a mattress off one of the beds in the other room and placed it on the floor. Calista gave William her blanket stating that she was still warm from the stew. 

“Don't complain you're cold later.” Is all Pero said before pulling his blanket over himself and rolling over to face the wall. William and Calista looked at each other and sighed, they exchanged goodnights, “Be quiet. I thought we were all supposed to be sleeping.” The three drifted off to sleep for a few hours. But one of them woke up. 

Getting out of bed, Calista thankfully retained her enhanced vision, able to see Pero and especially William so she wouldn't step on him. She exited the room and stood in the hallway. It was slightly cooler, but her body still felt so warm, from the inside out. She ate the same soup as the two men and neither one of them was awake. Was it because she's a dragon and not used to human food? She recalled where the mess hall was and assumed there should be a kitchen not too far from there, somewhere she could get something to drink, preferably water. She passed by one of the seminarians who directed her to the kitchen and walked with Calista, even pouring some water for her. He asked if she wanted to be escorted back and she declined stating that she won't be long, she misses her warm bed already. He gives her a slight bow and leaves which gives her pause, why would he bow? She leans against one of the counters, sipping the water slowly, she's hoping that will make the cool feeling last a bit longer.

“Your senses have become quite dull Calista. You have fallen quite far, you might be in what the humans refer to as hell right now. Quite ironic given where we are.”

Calista’s back straightens and she gags on her water, coughing as she spins to turn in the direction of the voice. It's a man who's a full head taller than her, but still shorter than Pero. His build is slender, but muscular. His voice is high pitched with every word wounding like a sneer. She knows it all too well, but what would he be doing here? It's much too soon, neither her nor Pero are ready to encounter him here. They're both still adjusting to their new forms. 

“Nothing to say to me sweet Calista? Where is that fiery spark that cut me before?” Setting the glass down, the young dragon slowly backs up, keeping her eyes focused on her would-be attacker. She knows he will, just a matter of when, she's still burning up, even after finishing the water. “Trying to leave me so soon. You want to run back to your new human toy? I wasn't aware that was your type. I could see how I would not be a match for you. That matters little, it only means I'll have to work that much harder to breed you.”

“To hell with you Acanthus! I will never allow you to.” Her eyes flash jade once more and she lengthens her nails into crimson claws. She'll need to fight to have a sliver of a chance to make it out. Focusing is so difficult. He closes the distance as she jumps back, only to be caught by Father Ignacio, he was not only a filthy minded priest, but a wyrm. A lesser dragon that can be under the command of a young, great or elder dragon. His facial features have contorted into a longer, more reptilian face with a long tongue that slides across Calista's cheek while his black claws dig into the flesh of her shoulders. She shakes side to side to try and free herself, but she's too weak to even escape his grasp. “Dammit! Dammit!” Calista tries to call for Pero, summoning him using the same mental command she used when he fought her mother, but she can't seem to connect with him. 

“Her skin even tastes sweet, Master. May I have a taste? While she is in this form? She is of little use to you in this form, yes?” Ignacio's speech has become subservient and simple. How did she miss it? What else has she not picked up on? Her senses are truly this poor? Did she miscalculate how much of herself she transferred to Pero? Acanthus smiles, his skin has a gray pallor to it, even in his human form that makes him look like a ghoul, matched with his yellow eyes and red lines on his neck, it isn't that far off from his dragon form. 

“I may allow you to do so my minion while I watch. She'll be begging for me afterward. This one is quite depraved and that's coming from me as you well know Calista.” Her eyes widen at the implication, she spits on Acanthus’ white and silver robes. “What makes this better is that you don't even know why you can't call your toy? Did you not notice the change in your body? I had the good father behind you add something special to your bowl of soup. A few of my scales for seasoning. You didn't forget what that does right?” His thin fingers cup her chin as she stares at him, realizing the gravity of the situation. Consuming his scales means that she's connected to him. Even for the week that he held her captive, she managed to avoid eating them, no matter how hard he tried. It was why she was so hungry, eating anything in his lair could have meant a loss of control. Maybe due to her essence bond with Pero, that's why she wasn't under his command, but it also meant that she couldn't reach him either.

Dreams into Reality

Tovar doesn't often remember his dreams. There's darkness and then he awakes, lives, sleeps and repeats. Tonight is the first time in a long time that he dreams. That damn dragon is in his dream, holding his head on her lap. Stroking his hair, never would she do something so tender. She hates him and he hates her too. He is aware that he needs her to stay alive, that much is certain. That disgusting priest pops up, leering at Calista, but Pero doesn't move, head still in her lap and neither does she. Fire begins to burn around them and they disappear, the next thing he knows is that he is standing. Calista is in front of him, but that dirty old man is holding her arms behind her. Why won't she break free? Pero knows she's strong enough, but she's crying. He hears a man's shrill laughter and Calista screaming.

Pero awakens with his head pounding, he notices a faint green glow in the room, it seems to be coming from his head, the left side where his scar is. “What the hell is this? Is this what happened before? Wait…” Pero looks over at Calista's side of the room and sees her bed empty. “Godammit this fucking woman! Get up William! She's gone and likely in danger!” Rising out of bed, Pero kicks Will's side and grabs his broadsword and small swords, arming himself before leaving the room. Will is soon right behind him still groggy. Tovar finds that he can't pinpoint where she is, just a general direction. “This way!” He starts off down the corridor but is met by two of the seminarians. “Choir boys out of the way lest I cut you both down!” Will draws his sword as he and Pero watch them change into large snakes.

“If I ever mention, setting foot in a damn church again. Punch me hard Pero and remind me of this moment.” Will lunges toward the first snake cutting its head off with ease, the purple blood that splatters on the wall eats away at the tapestry and stone. “Be careful! Looks like the blood is high acidic!” Pero makes short work of the other snake, lobbing its head off and having some of the blood splash on his cuirass, it eats through part of it, exposing the leather under the iron. The two men race toward the mess hall where they hear a scream and a crash.

The white dragon is laughing as he sees Ignaco bleeding from a severed arm. “Master, why will you not help me?!” He whines, Acanthus sits on the counter shaking his head. His master had promised him a taste of this dragon turned human, to play with her before he took her back to his lair. Ignacio almost had her. Calista had been pinned to the ground, but she was able to get in a fire breath directly in his face. It didn't hurt him much, but with her claws she was able to take an arm and use it to get a few hits to the wyrm’s head before it broke in half. The entire ordeal was entertaining to the white dragon. Watching his future broodmare fight filled him with an unwarranted pride, the mother of his hatchlings needed to be strong after all. 

Battered and bloodied, Calista didn't see a way out alive. Her best bet would be to end her life while killing this wyrm. If she tried earlier, Acanthus would step in and let the wyrm have her arm or no arm. If she did so after, she would risk trying to overpower the white dragon which she knew was impossible in her current state. it had been difficult enough in her full dragon form. There were no good options, but at least Pero might be none the wiser and would go peacefully in his sleep, maybe. He may have been a rude bastard, but he did try and help her for the little time she knew him. She could have been nicer, but it was too late to dwell on that now. “Maybe he wasn't so bad. Not a complete reprobate.”

“That right arpia pequeña (little dragon)? Only upon threat of death do you say something nice about me? Dragons have the same manners as humans then.” A silver blade met Calista a few inches away from her face, leaving her covered with purple blood. It didn't burn her nor her dress as both were naturally resistant. The wyrm fell to the floor convulsing in pain from the hole in its chest.

“Master…help me. I…my promise…” Its eyes alternated between Calista and Acanthus, ending on its Master as the light faded from them. Pero and William leaped to stand in front of Calista as she smiled, a genuine one at the both. Her focus quickly turned to Acanthus who wore a similar scowl to Pero's now.

“The two rats have come to play have they? No matter. I'll kill the pale one and separate your limbs from your body so you cannot pursue us mercenary.” Red and white flames gathered in his hands as he got off the counter.

“Why the hell are you calling me pale? You’re the one who looks like spoiled milk!” William shouts and Pero snorts. The white dragon answers with a fireball in William's direction, he rolls out of the way, but now the wooden counter is on fire. Pero uses the opportunity to try and slice Acanthus’ head off, but the dragon catches his blade with his hands, his surprise is that his hands are bleeding.

“It seems the bond you have with her is stronger than I thought. No matter. I'll still kill you.” He pulls Pero's broadsword down and breathes white flames in the mercenary's face. Calista threw up a jade barrier to protect him, it did but unfortunately it broke. William took the opportunity to sink his sword into Acanthus’ side. The white dragon growled and threw the pale mercenary off, his sword still stuck in his abdomen. “Filthy human scum!!” The villain's eyes turn white and flames simmer from his body. Calista recognizes the pattern on the flames, Acanthus is preparing for a large-scale attack. The young dragon pulls Pero by his chainmail and dives near William to huddle the three of them together and forms another barrier.

“Brace yourselves! I don't know if I can completely block it!” Calista raises the jade again. She's forgone her crimson claws and is focusing all her energy into the barrier. Pero places a hand on her shoulder and feels some of his energy fading, he leans his forehead on the back of her shoulder. Will huddles close to the both of them as the heat in the room intensifies and the flames off of Acanthus’ body are becoming brighter. All three of them close their eyes to prevent being blinded and there's a loud boom coupled with an explosion. 

They thought they would be knocked against the walls of the church, but there were none anymore. William was the furthest back so he ended up hitting some rubble on the side of the church. Only one wall far opposite of the kitchen was left standing, the rest had either been completely obliterated or were dotted pieces of smoldering stone embedded into the ground. William’s sword that had been stuck in Acanthus’ side was sticking out of one of the nearby stones, flung from his body. The sun was rising and Pero was face down in the dirt once more. Twice in two days. “Fuck…” His entire body ached but it at least felt like he had all of his limbs. His head is ringing and he can at least make out shapes though given how much rubble is everywhere it doesn't help much. There's some movement that he can make out followed by a deep growl. Pero assumes that's the damn white dragon but that when his sight finally clears upon hearing the word ‘bastard’ screamed with a wet gurgle. Acanthus has his hand on Calista's throat, her claws are much shorter but she's making cuts in his forearm, he's lifted her up off the ground. 

“Did you enjoy your last little bit of freedom? I think I will kill them both. I’ll figure out a way to end the one with the scar. That bastard burned my hands? How much of yourself did you give to him?” Acanthus bends his arm to close the distance between them. He sees the fear in her eyes buried underneath the hatred. “You care about one of their ilk? They vilify us despite us only bothering them if they trespass on our lands. Such a horrid fortune I have that you are the only viable female our clan has to offer.”

“Then go find another one asshole.” Calista continues to struggle, she won’t go with him willingly and not without a fight. “And yes I prefer Pero to you.” She laughs and spits blood in the white dragon’s face. “Will’s right, you do look like spoiled milk. A dingy shade of white.” He spins her around and throws her against one of the larger pieces of remaining stone. The young dragon gasps, coughing up blood as she attempts to move but cannot. Her body isn't allowing it. Pero is able to stand to his feet as his left eye glows a bright jade again, only this time, green flames have gathered in his right hand.

“Stay the hell away from her you soggy fucker!” Acanthus expects to be able to stop Pero, maybe even a burn this time as well. He did not anticipate being pushed back and needing to dig his heels into the ground. Their fingers were interlocked and their flames burning in nearly equal amounts. It was the first time Acanthus had appeared surprised during this entire ordeal. Neither of them were giving a quarter as the ground began to sizzle. “What's wrong? Is one of the filthy humans holding you hostage?” Pero taunts and hears the white dragon growl. 

Calista is finally on her feet watching the two men be evenly matched. It occurs to her that they might be able to kill him here. She focuses and circles behind the soggy dragon, putting all the energy she was left into her right hand, sharpening her scarlet claws. She starts running, building momentum to strike him from behind and hit him square in the chest for a final blow. In strengthening herself, Pero weakened slightly, enough for Acanthus to push the mercenary back and change the angle at which her attack was going to hit. She was going too fast and couldn't change her direction. Her claws went through Acanthus, but missed his core. Thankfully, it was a strong enough hit to have him cry out in pain. Tovar attempted to bash his face in, but a white barrier repelled them as the grand dragon held his hand over the hole in his chest.

“You bitch…the audacity to harm me?! Next time I will end you, all of you! To hell with breeding you, you'll suffer a slow death Calista.” Acanthus attempted to transform into his dragon form but found that he could not. “The hell have you done to me?!” 

Calista pointed to the back of her hand that was covered in his blue blood. Half of one of her magenta scales was missing. It glimmered within the hole in his chest, the scale itself was seeping into the surrounding tissue, weakening him. “Looks like you're on our level now, spoiled milk.” He screamed a string of curses while extending white wings from his back and taking off. Pero stood up and helped the young dragon to her feet. “Ran like a soggy bitch.” The Spaniard laughed at the woman's foul mouth.

“We survived. How did you know that would work?” He was curious if she'd planned that far ahead. Pero retrieved his sword and Will's then scanned the area for him.

“I figured if he could poison me with his scales, I could do the same. I didn't know if it would work or not. That was some favor with whatever gods there are.” Placing her hands on her lower back, she stretches and points to a large piece of stone where Will is slumped over. Tovar and Calista make their way over and are relieved to find William breathing. 

“Figured you'd half ass something again. Do you ever plan anything woman? You're the fucking dragon.” Pero scoffs and puts one arm of William’s over his shoulder as Calista does the same. 

“Oh? When's the last time you fought a grand dragon Pero? Or bonded someone's soul to yours? I'm new to all of this too. Stop your complaining and show me the way to the village. Maybe this time we can actually sleep in a bed for more than a few hours.” Calista rolls her eyes and walks side by side with Tovar to balance Will between them. They mainly bicker most of the way.

Once finally at the village, they decide the best course of action is to leave Will with a woman who he saved on one of their last jobs here. Her husband may have suspiciously died during said job, but unexpected things happen as a mercenary. Pero did offer her two gold coins to care for him, but she offered to do it for free. Instead, the money was used for a room at the inn. Tovar was surprised that Calista did not argue for a seperate room. 

“There's a lot we'll need to discuss and take care of Pero. No need to waste money.” Is what she told him which he was fine with. They have needed to talk about what changes both their bodies have been through since this entire ‘bonding’ process has taken place. 

What Tovar is confused about is why Calista is standing before him while he's soaking in his large bathtub on the floor. Naked.

Chapter Two. Chapter Four

[f0rever15elf]

They Were Roommates: Part 1

Modern!AU:  Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5  / Part 6 (coming soon) Pairing: Pero Tovar x fem!reader Rating: NC-17 Word count: 9,509 (I ain’t even sorry)  Summary: A dangerous night leads to an interesting living arrangement between you and one grumpy Spaniard. 

Warnings: Violence, blood mention, death mention, alcohol mention, food mention, reader in danger, oral (f receiving), vaginal sex, no beta reader, shameless use of the roommates trope

A/N: So this was gonna start out as just a fluffy little fic and then it turned into something a little bit steamier. I have lost all control of these characters, I’m sorry (not really). 

Masterlist |  Ao3

You should have run. You should have turned on your heel and gotten out of there as quick as your legs could have possibly carried you. You knew better than to go sticking your nose into things that could get you in trouble, Dad had raised you better than this. But Mom had raised you with that tender heart and soft soul, and ultimately they won out over your sense of self preservation. And now here you are, surrounded by a group of brutish looking men who all reek of the cheapest vodka you've ever smelt. The contents of your stomach churn as they banter, joking about all of the things they were going to do to you, and tears threaten to spill from your eyes as you do your best to keep your knees from knocking together. 

You should have walked the other way. 

But the man on the ground was being beaten. Five on one was hardly ever a fair fight, no matter how strong and rugged the one seemed. And so you had yelled out to get their attention, telling them to back off. And it got their attention alright. The new target was you, and they wasted no time in cornering you against the brick wall. 

"Please, please just let me go. You can have everything in my purse, and I won't tell anyone about this. Please..." You hate the way your voice sounds when you beg, but if it meant surviving, your pride could take the compromise. The one you could only assume was the ringleader barked out an obnoxious sounding laugh and shook his head. 

"No can do toots. We were getting bored with our little punching bag over there. You showed up at just the right time." The four other goons all chuckle and make various sounds of agreement, closing the circle in on your tighter. Your mouth is dry as the Sahara when you try to swallow and your ears are beginning to ring. 

"P...Please don't do this..." you manage to squeak out as the leader slinks up in front of you, bracing a hand by your head as he stares at you with feral eyes. You close your eyes tightly, trying to shrink away from the stink of cheap booze on his breath when a sharp crack from behind the leader breaks the tension. Your eyes snap open to see the man who they were beating standing there with a short piece of pipe clutched in his hands. In front of him, one of the men lay crumpled and motionless on the ground, red staining the ground around his head. Your stomach couldn't take it any more and you double over, emptying the contents of your stomach right onto the ringleader's shoes. Sputtering and gasping for breath you stand back up as the remaining four descend on the dark haired man, leaving you your opportunity to escape. Dark eyes catch yours for a brief moment before the man nods, swinging his pipe again. You decide that's your cue, and turn tail, taking off into the night.

----

The next morning, the blaring sound of your alarm rouses you from a restless sleep. Resisting the urge to chuck it through your window, you instead turn it off, slamming it back down on the bed side table. Sleep had eluded you in favor of nightmares of the men cornering you. Even in your dreams the smell of alcohol was sharp and nauseating. With a groan and a sigh, you toss back the covers and stumble into the bathroom. 

"...I look like shit." The reflection stares back at you with sunken eyes surrounded in dark circles, her hair an absolute mess. 'Death warmed over' is how your mom would word it, and to be honest, it pretty accurately describes how you're feeling this morning. Did you really need to go to work today? One more glance in the mirror and you decide that is a firm "No." Marcy would understand when you call her about it, you know she would. "I should get cleaned up, at least," you mutter, quickly going about your morning routine. 

The shower certainly helped, and with a little under-eye concealer the bags were mostly hidden. Mostly. Today was a me day, you decide, grabbing your purse and heading out the door. First order of business? Caffeine. 

The little coffee shop down the street was your favorite spot for a decent cup of coffee, and the owners were always so sweet. As the bells in the doorway chimed over your head, Samael, the owner, looked up to greet you, smiling as he recognized you instantly. 

"Well, well, well! Good morning to our favorite regular!" 

"Morning Sam. How are you and Anita doing?" You smile as you approach the counter, already digging out your wallet. 

"Well, today. A bit of a busy morning, but busy is a good thing! Will it be your usual today?"

"Please, with an extra espresso shot."

"Long night?"

"You have no idea." Sam just chuckles and shakes his head, ringing you up before going to make your order, muttering something about what it is to be young as he does. 

With your artificial energy securely in your hands, you make your way outside. The sun was shining brightly today, and a cool breeze kissed your skin, beckoning you to spend time enjoying it. The park it is. Lost in your own thoughts, you didn't even notice the man making his way towards you until it was too late. A hiss leaves your lips as hot coffee drenches the front of your blouse, causing you to jump back. "Son of a-! I am so so sorry!" You look up to see who had been unfortunate enough to wear the other half of your drink and your heart nearly stopped in your chest. "It's...you..." 

"Clumsy," he mutters under his breath before scowling back up to you. "You should be more careful." A heat rises in your cheeks and you clear your throat, readjusting your bag on your shoulder. He had an accent, you noticed. Spanish, perhaps? Regardless, it sounded wonderful coming off of his lips, and almost didn’t match the irritated look he wore. 

"I'm honestly really sorry about that, I wasn't paying attention." The man just grunts in agreement, slipping off his coffee soaked hoodie. 

"Clearly. Like I said, you should be more careful." He stares you down with dark brown eyes and you get the feeling he isn't just talking about the coffee incident. In the daylight, you could finally get a good look at him. Dark, curled hair stuck out in almost every direction on top of his head in an organized chaos. His eyes had a hard edge to them, the edge of a man who had seen too much. His skin had an almost golden hue to it, but the most notable feature was the scar that ran along his left eye, now paired with a blooming black bruise. His lip was split and a bruise was creeping its way along his jawline as well. "It's rude to stare." 

The comment sends a jolt through you and you jump, clearing your throat. "Right, I'm sorry I just...You...you're the guy from last night, right...?" You lower your voice as you ask, worried about someone overhearing, though you weren't sure why. He stuffs his hands in his pockets, staring you down with an intensity that made you feel only inches tall. 

"Maybe." 

"...Thank you, then. For..." you wave your hands, trying to complete your sentence, but the thought of what he had saved you from brought a sour taste to your mouth. 

"We're even." His matter of fact tone catches you off guard and you open your mouth to respond, but nothing comes out, so you close it, kicking the ground. The whole time, his eyes never leave your face. 

"Did you, uhm, get those taken care of?" you ask, gesturing to his face. 

"They'll heal on their own." 

"So, that's a no then. I have a cold compress back at my place. A-and I can wash your hoodie since I got coffee all over it. It's the least I could do." What are you doing? Inviting a strange man over to your place? A man whose name you didn't even know? A man who literally beat someone with a length of pipe right in front of you last night? If Dad could see you now he'd be reading you the riot act for sure. The mystery man just blinks, considering it for a moment. "And I could make us some lunch...?" 

"Sure." Ah, so the way to this man is through his stomach. That's easy enough to handle. You offer him a gentle smile and nod, turning to head back to your apartment, and he follows just behind you, hands still in his pockets and grumpy countenance still on his face. 

The walk is...strange. Not necessarily uncomfortable, but there was a palpable tension in the air between the two of you, and it was clear this man was not going to be initiating any form of conversation. Clutching at your bag, you clear your throat. "I don't think I ever got your name." You look up at him, curiosity in your eyes. 

"Tovar is what most call me." You nod, testing his name on your lips. 

"Tovar...Spanish, right? That sounds like a Spanish name," you muse, and he just makes a grunt of affirmation. Clearly, this man was the pinnacle of conversationalists. The corners of your lips perk up at your own little joke. You offer him your own name and he nods. "Are you from around here?" The look he gives you absolutely screams "what do you think?" and you felt that heat rise in your cheeks again. 

"Spain. The Eastern region. Moved here about a year ago." 

"Well, welcome to The States." You rummage around in your bag, pulling out your keys to let you both in. You kick off your shoes as soon as you cross the threshold and drop your keys in the bowl you keep by the door. "Home sweet home. Pardon the mess, I wasn't expecting to bring someone home today." The man called Tovar was silent, standing in the doorway with an awkward hunch in his shoulders. "You can come in, you know. Make yourself at home. Ah, and I'll take your hoodie." He hands it off to you without question before slipping off his own shoes, following your farther inside. He remains standing, looking over the pictures you have hung over your walls.  When you return from changing into a clean shirt and starting the laundry, he's found one particular picture that he's picked up off the bookcase to look over and you feel your chest tighten.

"That's my parents." Your voice is smaller than you were expecting it to be, and Tovar looks up at you when he hears it before looking back at the picture. "They passed away a couple of years ago. Car accident." He nods, setting the picture back down. 

"You look much like your mother." His observation brought a small smile to your lips as you turned to head into the kitchen. 

"Most people said I looked more like my dad. But I appreciate the compliment. How do some grilled cheeses and tomato soup sound?" He grunts again, coming to sit at the bar that runs along the side of your kitchen. Mulling over what to talk about as you get out everything for lunch, you decide it was best to jump in head first. "What did those men want with you last night?" You hazzard a glance over to him to see him staring at his hand he’s resting on the bar. When he doesn't reply after a moment, you gently call his name and his head snapped up, as if you broke him from a daze.

"The leader owed me money." Now you're really confused. 

"The big one owed you money, but you were the one getting beat up? Isn’t it usually the other way around?" The first sandwich sizzles in the pan as you flip it before looking back over your shoulder. 

"He called his friends to...deter me from taking what I was owed." For some reason, the way he said that made your blood turn to ice in your veins. 

"Ah." What else could be said? It suddenly felt hard to breathe in the little apartment so between sandwiches, you moved to open a window, feeling Tovar's eyes on you the whole time. 

"That... sounded bad, didn't it?" You look back at him as he speaks up, and you could swear you saw a nearly...sheepish...light in his eyes. But as quick as you saw it, it was gone, replaced with that glowering look he always seemed to have.  "I just did some work for him, and he's shorted me in the past so I didn't want it to happen again." You nod, setting a plate and bowl in front of him, for which he thanks you quietly before hunching over his food. Walking around the bar, you set your own food down and sit next to him as he eats like a man who hasn't seen food in weeks. You pick at your sandwich, thinking. 

"Tovar...what is it you do?" You feel his eyes on you again, electing to keep your gaze on your soup. 

"You're awful interested in business that is not yours," he grumbles before taking another bite.  

"Can you blame me? This isn't exactly a normal situation." 

He sets his spoon down and sits back in his chair with a sigh. "I do whatever I can to make ends meet. To get food to eat. To save for a place to live." You splutter into your soup, grabbing a napkin to wipe your mouth before turning back to him. 

"You don't have a place to live? You're homeless?" 

"I am." That matter of fact attitude astounded you. 

"What the...How can you be so...okay with that?" He just shrugs. 

"It's how I've lived for years since I left the Spanish military. No job, no family, no friends, nowhere to go. I came here to see if I could find something else." His eyes leave yours and he picks up the spoon again, playing in the soup. You sat in silence for a few minutes, trying to wrap your mind around this. He was homeless, probably struggled to ever get a good meal which would explain how voracious he was when you put the food in front of him, and had no one. Your heart begins to ache as it always did when you were met with someone in need. 

"I...have a spare room..." The words are out of your mouth before you're able to second guess them. The look of surprise on Tovar's face as he looks up at you makes your heart stutter for a moment. 

"Are you offering it to me...? I can't pay you yet, I have almost no money." You shake your head and wave him off. 

"I'm not looking to make a profit off you, Tovar. If you need a place to stay, you can stay here for as long as you need. Just help out around the house. The nights are gonna start getting colder." 

"Amiga, you are far too trusting." For the first time, a smile tugs at the corners of his lips, oh so slight, but you're sure it's there. 

"I know, and my dad is rolling over in his grave because of it." The laugh that leaves your lips is gentle and light and is the closest thing to music Tovar has heard in a long time. Perhaps things would be alright after all. 

---

It’s been almost two months since you invited Tovar into your home, and it’s nearing a point where you’re finding it hard to remember what living alone felt like. Life with him was comfortably simple. He never asked for much, and did as you asked in terms of helping to keep the house clean. Tovar kept odd hours, a by product of taking odd jobs to try and start amassing some semblance of savings, and it wasn't uncommon for you to come home from work to find the grumpy Spaniard knocked out on the couch with the TV on Telemundo. And every time it brought a smile to your face. When he was sleeping, his face looked so much less grumpy, the frown lines smoothing out as he dreams. You would drape a blanket over him and turn off the TV before heading to your own bedroom to sleep. 

What you weren't expecting was after a night of working late to come home to the smell of popcorn. "Tovar..?" You called out, confused. Normally at this time, he was either out on a job or passed out on the couch. 

"Amiga, you're home! Good!" He comes out of the kitchen, a large bowl of popcorn in his arms. You set your purse down by the door, walking over to him with that puzzled look still on your face. 

"Work held me a little late today. What's with the popcorn?" He hands off the bowl to you before grabbing two beers from the fridge. 

"A celebration is in order." 

"Celebration? For what?" 

"As of today, I am employed!" You blink as a slow recognition lights your face. 

"The security detail job got back to you?" The excitement in your voice is unmistakable and he nods, proud. 

"I start tomorrow." 

"Tovar, that's great!" He nods again, grunting as he moves past you to the living room. 

"So tonight, let's watch a movie together to celebrate." He plops himself down on the couch, spreading out and making himself comfortable, drawing a chuckle from your lips as you move to join him. It wasn’t often that he acted happy, usually staying quiet and reserved even when you knew he was excited about something, so this was a welcome change of pace. 

"As you wish," you grin as you set the bowl down before settling in next to him, pulling a throw over your lap. 

"What shall we watch?" he grumbles, flicking through Netflix. You shrug, popping a few pieces of popcorn into your mouth. 

"Dealer's choice, gruñón."  He rolls his eyes at the nickname you had for him before settling on some Spanish flick you had never seen before, remembering to turn on the subtitles for you. Exchanging the remote for his beer, he settles in, turning off the light on the side table and plunging the room into darkness, save the light from the TV. 

You aren't sure when exactly you fell asleep, You really aren't sure when you ended up leaning against Tovar, and you are EXTREMELY unsure as to when his arm found its way around you. The only thing you are sure of is that this grumpy man holding you to him while he slept was one of the most comfortable feelings you had ever had the pleasure of experiencing. At least, that is what your sleepy haze told you. When it finally clicks that you were cuddled up to your roommate, your heart leaps into a sprint and you tense in his arms. You shouldn't be doing this. You were roommates. Oh my god, you were ROOMMATES! This was crossing all sorts of lines! Wiggling slightly, you do your best to try and worm your way out of Tovar's grasp, but the movement stirs him just enough that he grabs you more securely to him, turning you so your cheek presses against his chest. 

"Hermossa..." His words are but a breath on the top of your hair and you freeze, the sound of his heartbeat strong and steady under your ear. Had you heard that right? Maybe it was just the rustling of fabric. Yeah, that was it, the fabric. Heat was rapidly rising in your cheeks and the tips of your ears were on fire, but struggling too much more to get out of Tovar's grasp would surely wake him, and you knew he needed to be well rested for his first day of work. And so you choose to stay in place, cradled against his chest, the sound of his heartbeat strong in your ear, the sound that slowly lulls you back to sleep. 

---

You thought the morning was going to be awkward, but Tovar never gave you the chance. The sun's golden light pouring through your curtains is what wakes you, alone, on your living room couch. Sitting up, you wipe the sleep from your eyes, your cheeks getting hot again as you recall what you woke to earlier that morning. "Tovar...?" You called softly, standing up to look for your roommate, but only finding a note on the kitchen table, telling you that he had headed in to work with an approximation of when he would be home. He must have tucked you in before he left, and this thought did little to cool the heat burning in your cheeks. 

You slap your cheeks quickly, letting out a frustrated groan as you make your way to the bathroom to get cleaned up for your day. You were friends, that's all. Roommates. Sometimes friends fall asleep on each other, no big deal. So why is it that whenever your mind wandered to the thought of being in Tovar's arms, your cheeks grew hot and your pulse quickened? Why was it that the only thing you could bring yourself to think of was how strong and sturdy he felt as he held you to him? Why was "hermosa" said in his sleepy voice the only sound you could hear as you tried to go about your day? Looking into the mirror as the steam slowly starts to fog it up, you had your answer, proudly displayed in the shine in your eyes.

"...Fuck...I'm falling for my roommate..." 

And so, you do the only thing you can think to do when you find yourself bogged down in thought. You clean. Today was an off day for you, so you had all the time in the world, and the countdown to Tovar's return from work was quite possibly the longest countdown you've ever been faced with. All the better to clean with, you decide, throwing on some music. Working from room to room, you clean every surface that COULD be cleaned; counters, cabinets, walls, baseboards, floors...The apartment would be SPARKLING by the time you were through with it, so help you God. Tovar would inch back into your thoughts time to time, and in retaliation to the errant thoughts, you scrub harder or faster, as if the scrubbing would cleans the thoughts away. So absorbed are you in your cleaning that you don't even hear the door open, or the keys clatter into the holder. 

"Scrub any more and you'll need to replace the tile." You nearly jump out of your skin, letting out an embarrassing shriek as you wheel around, brandishing the bottle of cleaner as a weapon. You're met with Tovar's bemused expression, eyebrow cocked as he leans against the door jam of the bathroom with crossed arms. 

"Jesus, Tovar, you scared the crap out of me!" 

"Thought you heard me come in," he shrugs. "All I can smell is cleaner, have you been cleaning all day?" 

"...Maybe." 

"Why?"  You open your mouth to respond then snap it closed, fidgeting, still on the floor. You couldn't just tell him it was because you had been thinking about him all day, you couldn't make things weird like that. You were roommates, just roommates. 

"Just felt like cleaning is all." 

"Amiga, you are a strange one." He holds out his hand to help you up, his face still disgruntled looking, and you take it. Your knees protest and you groan, stretching as you make it to your feet. 

"How was your first day?" You ask, moving past him, oblivious to the look on his face in response to the borderline lewd groan you let out. He swallows thickly, following you back to the kitchen. He grunts as he sits down, rolling his eyes. 

"I work with a bunch of idiots." You can't help but chuckle, unsurprised at his response. Tovar tended to find most people to be idiots. "But it's steady pay. Better than the odd jobs I was working." 

"That's good. I'm sure you'll be able to take care of any of the idiots at work in short order." You flash him a grin before ducking down to put the chemicals back under the sink. "I was thinking paella for dinner. I splurged on some saffron and seafood at the store when I went shopping the other day." You pop up from behind the counter just in time to see the surprise on his face before it falls back into the resting grumpy face he wears so well. 

"You know how to make paella?" His voice is incredulous, and you nod, grinning. 

"I learned on a trip to Spain several years ago, actually. I just don't normally cook it 'cause my paella pan is really big and well, seafood is expensive." He lets out a grunt, sitting back in his chair and nods. 

"If you mess it up, I'll judge you forever." 

"I would expect no less from you, Tovar." Pulling off your gloves and tossing them under the sink as well, you head back to your bedroom. "I'm gonna shower then get started on dinner." He grunts again, and you don't catch it as his eyes follow you all the way back to your bedroom. 

Fresh from the shower and dressed in a pair of sleep shorts and a tank top, hair still wet down your back, you make your way to the kitchen to start on dinner. Tovar is nowhere to be seen, so you assume he's hiding in his room. The man enjoyed his privacy. Paella had seemed so intimidating  to you at first, but after having someone walk you through the steps, you picked it up quickly, electing to stick to the more traditional rendition of the dish. After slapping the lid on the paella pan and setting a timer for it to simmer, you walk to Tovar's door, tapping on it. You were just going to tell him that dinner was about 20 away, so you were surprised when the door opened. The sight before you took your breath away. 

He was standing there, shirtless in some loose hanging sweatpants that hung low on his hips. His hair was damp, the occasional droplet dripping from it to roll down the expanse of his chest. Your eyes drifted down for a moment, taking in his muscular physique graced with scattered, faded scars. 

"It's rude to stare," he states simply, but the smirk is evident in his voice. You snap your eyes back to his, your face on fire. His eyebrow is arched and the smirk is firmly on his face. "What do you need amiga?" 

"D-Diner," you squeak out. "Dinnerintwenty!" The words run together before you turn and all but sprint down the hall to your bedroom, slamming the door behind you. You lean against your door, sliding down to hide your face against your knees as you attempt to calm your racing thoughts. The way Tovar looked had been positively SINFUL, and your mouth is dry at the thought of how those drops of water looked rolling down his skin. 

"Stop stop stop," you chant, smacking your cheeks again. "None of that, noooone of that." After a few more deep breaths, you're able to compose yourself enough to dart to the bathroom and rinse your face with some cold water before heading back to the kitchen to check on dinner. You notice Tovar has come out to take up residence on the couch, flipping through the channels. He's apparently elected to put a shirt back on, and you'd be lying if you weren't a little disappointed in that fact. He must have felt you staring, because he turns to look at you, eyebrow still arched, and you quickly avert your gaze to the dish in front of you, grabbing a fork to test the rice. Satisfied with the taste and texture, you grab out two plates, serving up a large portion for Tovar, and a significantly small portion for yourself. Two months, and he still ate like a starving man every meal. You had no idea where he managed to put it all. 

"Dinner's ready, Tovar." He grunts, coming back to the bar from his place on the couch to take his seat as you place down two glasses of white wine before hopping into your seat next to him. You watch him anxiously as he picks up his fork, heaping a large bite into his mouth. You worry your bottom lip between your teeth as he takes a few more bites before he grunts appreciatively. 

"It won't be winning any awards back home, but it isn't bad." The backhanded compliment was more than you had expected, and a wide smile crosses your face. Satisfied that he enjoys it well enough, you join him in eating quietly. Tovar never really talked while he ate, usually too busy stuffing his face to get a word out even if he wanted to, so dinners were typically silent. You couldn't help the feeling of pride when he helped himself to an equally large second serving. As he sat back down, his knee bumped yours and you squeaked, drawing his gaze. 

"What was that?" 

"N-nothing, just startled me a bit is all." You cram another bite into your mouth, hoping he would drop it. 

"You're jumpy today, amiga." He takes a few more bites before he continues. "Something happen?" 

Oh, you know, just came to a realization that I'm falling for my roommate who I still know so little about and I can't get the thought of you wet and shirtless out of my head, but yeah, I'm totally fine....

Is what you wanted to say. All you were able to say, however, was a simple "No." He nods, scraping up the last few bites on his plate before clearing both of your place settings. You down the rest of your wine in a gulp, hoping it would still your trembling nerves. Tovar loads the dishes into the dishwasher before turning to lean against the sink, arms crossed as he stares you down. "What?" You ask incredulously. He's silent as he stares at you with that grumpy, inquisitive gaze, sizing you up like some sort of quarry. "What is it? Something on my face?" you ask again, unable to bare the intense silence. Eventually, he just shakes his head, pushing off of the counter to walk past you. 

"I have work early tomorrow, so I'm going to sleep," he states, continuing down the hall. The sound of his door shutting is followed by you slumping in your chair, resting your head on the counter. You bang your head against the counter a few times before standing up to clean the kitchen. Once all of the dishes are put away and the counters wiped down, you head down the hall to your own room for the night. A sound coming from Tovar's room causes you to pause. It sounded almost pained, so you stop to listen, concerned he might have hurt himself at work and didn't tell you about it. After all, it wouldn't have been the first time he had done something like that. You can't help the little gasp that escapes your lips when you hear him moan out your name, the shock of it causing you to stumble back from the door, pressing up against the wall adjacent to his door. Wide eyes bore holes into his door as your name drifted through it once more, laced with the lewdest sounding moan you had ever heard. 

Deciding you had heard enough, and feeling rather embarrassed for such a blatant breach of privacy, you bolt for your door, shutting it quietly. Your heart is racing, thrumming loudly in your ears, and your cheeks burn so hot you feel like you could combust just standing there. There could be no mistake, your name had come from Tovar's lips mixed with the unmistakable sounds of pleasure. 

...How the HELL were you supposed to sleep tonight? 

---

The next week or so, you try your utmost to act normally around your roommate, still preparing meals, or covering him with a blanket if you come home late and find him on the couch. But every night plays out the same once you’re safely behind your bedroom door. Those lewd moans lacing your name in his gruff, husky voice. The thought of them caused the heat to pool in your belly every time, without fail. You'd find yourself seeking your own high, getting off to the thought of him over you, moaning your name in your ear. God how you want him. 

There were times where you thought you had built up the courage to tell him that you had heard him, but as soon as those dark eyes meet with yours, all thoughts vacate your mind and you end up a babbling wreck. This was going to kill you, you were sure of it. 

The desperation and desire does nothing but mount the longer this drags on, to the point where even at work you can't seem to manage to keep your thoughts off of the handsome Spaniard sharing your small apartment. Word from your manager saying you're able to head home almost an hour early is a welcome reprieve and your home is a welcome sight as you cross the threshold before immediately making your way to your room, kicking the door closed behind you. Or, mostly closed, anyways. That didn't matter, Tovar wasn't going to be home for several hours. You'd be cleaned up and calmed down by then for sure. 

Shedding your clothes, you sprawl on your bed, slowly dancing gentle caresses over your skin. The pads of your fingers ghost around your nipples before you squeeze both breasts. You let out a quiet sigh as your eyes slip closed. Your imagination runs wild as you picture Tovar above you, his warm breath brushing over your skin, raising goosebumps along it. You shiver at the thought of him whispering your name against the shell of your ear, yearning to feel his stubble scratching against your cheek as he drags kisses down your jaw. 

Your hand finally dips between your legs, spreading yourself and coating your fingers in your own arousal before drifting back up to twirl around your delicate bundle of nerves. Your hips arch up off of the bed under your ministrations, wishing it was Tovar's fingers drawing these moans from your lips rather than your own. His name slips out before you can stop yourself, completely lost in the fantasy of your roommate pinning you to the bed, the image of him in just those loose sweats urging you forward as the heat coils tighter in your stomach, your fingers moving ever faster as you pleasure yourself. "Fuck...Tovar...haaa..." You hiss between clenched teeth as you continue to work, drawing yourself ever closer. It's when you imagine him whispering terms of endearment to you in his native tongue that sounds so good on his lips that you lose yourself completely, tipping over that precipice of pleasure with a long keen of his name, back arched. 

You fall back against the bed, panting as the waves of your orgasm slowly abate, leaving you in a happy haze as you get up to go and clean yourself. You're a mess, aren't you? Unable to think of anything but your roommate pleasuring you, which is definitely not what he signed up for when he agreed to your offer of a place to stay. You ponder how much longer this living arrangement is going to last. He has a steady job now, a steady paycheck. That, coupled with what he already has saved...he would probably be off to find a place of his own soon, and that thought made you sadder than you would care to admit. You can always ask him to stay, but would that be too forward? There was no harm in asking, right? He'd understand, right? Tovar was a bit of a grump, but he was at least understanding with most things....usually. With a grumble that sounds a bit too much like your roommate's, you finish your shower, getting dressed before heading to the living room, nearly hitting the roof when you see Tovar sitting on the couch, playing on his phone. He glances up at you when he hears your gasp, that damn eyebrow quirked up again before his gaze fixes back on his phone. 

"I wasn't expecting you home for another couple of hours, Tovar." You try to make the comment sound offhand as you head into the kitchen to raid the fridge for dinner ideas. 

"Got off early." Oh God, his voice was gruffer than usual and the heat was already pooling in your core again. 

"Well that's good. You've been working late pretty much every night since you started." You settled on just grabbing two beers from the fridge, bringing one over to him after opening it. He just nods, taking a sip of his drink. 

"They let me off because apparently threatening to break William's arm for being an idiot isn't proper etiquette." Your mouth falls open and your eyebrows raise as you stare at him. He looks up at you and you see the glimmer of humor in his eyes, causing your shoulders to relax and a smile to cross your face. 

"Tovar, I never pegged you for a joking man." You chuckle as you make your way back into the kitchen, pulling out the takeout menus. "I don't feel like cooking tonight, come figure out where you wanna order from, what do you want?" You lean against the counter, flipping through menus with your back turned to him, doing your best to keep your mind from wandering to the man sitting on your couch. You jump a little when a hand finds your left hip, the other bracing against the counter as Tovar leans up against you. Instantly your face grows hot and your mouth goes dry at the feeling of him so utterly close to you. The hand on your hip feels electric and you struggle to keep your breathing under control. 

"What I want, hermossa?" His voice is low as he brings his head down level to yours. "Are you an option?" Your knees give then and there and if you hadn't been holding on to the counter, you would have hit the floor. Tovar's grip on your hip tightens and he presses up against you, pinning you to the counter as you tremble against him. "Well?" he nearly growls into your ear, and you squeak out an affirmative as his nose trails a line from your ear down your neck to your shoulder where he places a kiss at the junction before nipping it gently. A shudder runs through your body and you're sure at any moment your eyes would open as you wake from this delicious dream. There is no way this could be real. 

You could feel him pressing up against your backside through your clothes and you swallow thickly at just how big he feels. Your imagination had not prepared you for this. The fingers of his left hand dig into your hip as his lips attach to your neck, sucking and nibbling till a dark mark is left. The sound he makes after leaving his mark is proud and dammit your knees just won't stop shaking.  

"Pero," he whispers suddenly into your ear and your eyes open. You turn your head to look at him, confused. "The next time I hear you moaning my name, I want it to be my proper name." His eyes were so dark and lust blown, they caught you so off guard that you almost didn't put two and two together. 

"N...next time? What do you mean next-." You cut yourself off as you freeze in realization. "Oh my God...you...you heard what I was...earlier you heard..." Pero smirks wickedly and nods. 

"You should really close your door, hermossa, if you don't want to be heard." His hand that had been resting on the bar comes up to turn your head just a little more, gripping your chin to bring your lips to his in a firm kiss that you quickly find yourself melting into. For as gruff as he sounded, Pero's lips were so damn soft. You crane your neck to press deeper into the kiss, drinking him in as much as humanly possible as you press your backside against him. He growls into the kiss as you grind against him, his hand letting go of your chin to run his fingers down your body, slipping under the hem of your tank top. Goosebumps break out along your skin the feeling of his calloused fingertips running along the skin of your stomach. In a sudden moment of boldness, you grab his wrist and lower his hand, helping to slip his fingers under the waistband of your pants and he groans into your mouth. Taking advantage of the situation, you lick up into his mouth, desperation and a burning need tinting every single action. His tongue dances with yours as his fingers rub you through the thin fabric of your panties, drawing a whimper from your lips. 

He's the first to break the kiss, chuckling darkly against your lips. "You are a mess. Already so wet for me. Did your fantasy do me no justice to quell that ache between your legs?" All you can to do to respond is let out a high pitched whine at his lewd question, grinding down on his fingers, desperate for that delicious friction. 

"P-Pero...Please..." Your voice is a whimper as you open your eyes to look up at him, the desperation in them clear as day. He leans in, grabbing your bottom lip between his teeth for a moment, pulling back until your lip slips from between them with a gasp from you. 

"I like the sound of your voice when you beg, maravillosa." You didn't think his voice could get any lower than it was, and the sound of desire that laced his words would have hand you on the ground if he hadn't been holding on to you. His fingers slowly slip under your panties, rubbing your mound before parting your lips to coat his fingers in your slick. "So fucking wet for me." You whimper again, nodding as you cling to his arm, grinding down your hips. A jolt fires through you as he finally swirls the pad of his finger around your clit, and you let out a strangled cry, clenching your eyes closed. Pero chuckles in your ear, nibbling at the lobe before moving down your neck to suck another mark as his finger rubs the most tortuously slow circles against you. You were losing your mind and needed so much much. 

"I'll beg all you want, please, PLEASE Pero, give me more. I need more," you keen, bucking your hips against his hand. Thankfully, he obliges, slipping a finger inside of you with ease and you let out a content sigh, grinding down against his hand. He curls his finger against your walls, searching for the perfect spot that he knows will have you seeing stars. When you nearly scream, he grins against your skin, nipping at his latest mark before adding a second, then third finger, slowly thrusting them in and out of you, meeting the thrusts of your hips. The stretch of his fingers is delicious, the bump of his thumb against your clit with every thrust bringing you closer and closer as your nails dig into his arm. 

His lips trace along your ear still, and he whispers to you with that voice so low it draws a groan from your lips. "I want you to cum for me, hermossa. Cum and let me hear my name on your lips." He punctuates his demand with a nip at your ear and you lose it, coming undone around his hand. Your walls clench around his fingers as you throw your head back against his shoulder, your arousal absolutely coating his fingers as his name pours from your lips as reverent as a prayer. He coaxes you gently through your orgasm with slow thrusts before slipping his fingers from you. When he puts them in his own mouth, moaning deliciously at the taste of you on his fingers, you could swear you were about to cum again just from the erotic sight. Your hands moving on their own, you grab his wrist and pull his fingers from his mouth. Looking up at him with the most innocent eyes you can manage, you bring his fingers to your lips, taking them in your own mouth. You moan at the taste of him mixed with your own arousal, running your tongue along the digits. The light in his eyes turns absolutely feral and he spins you around, reconnecting his lips with your, one hand holding your hips to his, one hand at the base of your skull, crushing your lips to his with a passion that literally takes your breath away. Your arms wrap around his body, pulling him closer to you as you drag your nails down his back, relishing in the shiver that runs through his body as you do. 

When he breaks the kiss to trail kisses down your jaw, you let your head fall back to grant him better access, trembling in anticipation and he forces your legs apart with his knee, bringing it up to grind mercilessly against you. The whimpers he draws from you only spur him on further. 

"P-Pero I need you. Please," you beg shamelessly, all rationale replaced by the burning desire for the man who currently had you pinned to the counter. The growl against your neck goes straight to your core as Pero drops both hands to your ass, giving it a rough squeeze before hooking his hands under your thighs, hoisting them around his waist, holding you up against him. Your own arms wrap around him, tangling in the curls at the base of his neck as he turns, carrying you to his bedroom. The blood in your veins courses with such excitement that you couldn't help the giggle that bubbles out of your throat. 

Gracelessly, he tosses you on to the bed and you bounce, grinning up at him like some Cheshire cat as he strips out of his shirt. You take your bottom lip between your teeth as your eyes rake up and down his figure. Taught skin covered corded muscle, something you know he worked very hard to maintain given how often he used the gym at your complex. He joins you on the bed, crawling up to you with the most intense look in his eyes. His fingers tug at the hem of your tank, tugging it up. 

"This. Off with it," he growls and you nod, nearly ripping the offending article from your body as he watches approvingly. Reaching around you, he quickly undoes the clasp of your bra, tossing it to join the discarded clothes. A hunger for you shines in his eyes as he takes you in, the intensity of his stare bringing a sudden shyness to the forefront of your mind. You shrink in on yourself, bringing your arms up to cover your chest, but he is having none of it. He takes your wrists, pulling your arms away from your chest as he looks up at you. "Hermossa, do not hide your glory from me." The gentle command sends a rush of adrenaline through your body and you nod, arms relaxing in his grasp. He lays you back, rough hands running up your arms and over your chest where he massages your breasts, pinching the nipples just hard enough to cause your back to arch off the bed before they continue down over your stomach, finally coming to rest on your hips. The feeling was better than anything your imagination could have possibly dreamt up. "How many times I have dreamt of this..." 

He leans over you to press a fierce kiss to your lips that quickly migrates along your jawline, following the line of your neck down to your chest. His stubble rubs deliciously against your skin, raising bumps along its path. Your fingers tangle in his hair, hips bucking up against him as he takes your left breast in his mouth, alternating between sucking, nibbling, and lavishing it with kisses until it borders on sore before switching to rain the same attention over the other. A whimper of longing escapes your lips and he glances up from his ministrations with a predatory grin before he trails kisses lower, over your naval and down to the hem of your pants. Greedy fingers hook into the waistband of your shorts, yanking them off with a quick motion, your panties along with them. The cool air on your core sends a shiver rocketing through your body. 

"Such a beautiful sight," he mumbles, his hands grabbing your hips firmly as he makes himself comfortable between your legs. You do your best to still the trembling in your legs, but to no avail as he runs his nose up the inside of your thigh, his warm breath sending tingles across your skin. He repeats the gesture for the other side before letting go of one of your hips to drag a finger up your dripping slit, gathering your arousal on his finger. The gasp you let out is one of the most beautiful sounds he has ever heard, and he craves more. He wants to see just how many sounds he could draw from those pretty lips of yours, but his patience is wearing thin, his self control slipping. He presses the flat of his tongue against you, licking the whole of you before spreading your lips to suck your swollen clit into his mouth, running his tongue around it in quick circles. Your hands tangle in his hair, tugging on it and he groans at the feeling, his cock twitching in his sweatpants. Your hips buck against his mouth, and he lays his arm across your hips, holding you in place. 

As he continues his ministrations, begs and moans spill from your lips in an endless, nearly incoherent stream, and each time you say his name he drags his teeth lightly over your clit, sending an electric shock through your entire body. Your moans grow higher and higher in pitch until you are screaming his name, tugging harshly on his hair as you cum for him the second time, spilling over his tongue as he eagerly licks it up. He pushes himself up and off the bed, licking his lips as he watches you laying on his bed, chest heaving as you try to catch your breath from your orgasm, eyes hazy with pleasure. He quickly rids himself of his pants and smirks when he sees how your eyes widen at the sight of him. Opening his bedside table, he pulls out a condom, ripping it open with his teeth before rolling it on, hissing at the feeling before he crawls back over your body, connecting his lips to yours. The taste of yourself on his lips draws a moan from you as you pull him against you, wrapping your legs around his waist. With a bite to your bottom lip, you feel him pressing against you. You break the kiss and gaze up into his lust filled eyes with a gaze that surely rivaled his own in terms of need and want and he hesitates, watching you. You lean up, ghosting your lips across his ear and he shivers as you speak. 

"Fuck me, Pero." 

You need say no more as your words start a fire inside of him. He presses into you and your head falls back against the pillow, your jaw going slack at the stretch as he fills you. With shallow thrusts he works his way into you until he is fully seated inside of you, his own body trembling at the feeling of your heat totally encompassing him. He groans as his head falls against your neck when your walls flutter around him, the stubble and mustache tickling at your skin. 

"Te sientes como el cielo..." He mutters against your neck, your pulse racing under his lips. 

"Pero, fuck, please move. Please, I can't take this." You cry as he snaps his hips against you, lifting his face from your neck enough to watch your face contort in pleasure as he sets up a brutal pace, fucking into you hard enough to shake the bed. Your hands find his shoulders, nails digging into the skin there which causes his hips to stutter for a moment before he regains his pace. Mutters in Spanish pour from his lips in the most gorgeous song you have ever heard as he ruts into you. When his hand moves to where the two of you are joined to rub aggressive circles against your overly sensitive bundle of nerves, you scream his name in a way that has his stomach tightening. 

"Won't...last..." He grunts, but all you can do is nod and cry out. His face falls against your neck again, stubble scratching at your skin. His teeth find purchase against the soft flesh of your neck and that is all you need to come tumbling over the edge. Your walls bare down on his cock and he growls against your skin, pulling you through your orgasm before his hips slam against yours, the moan of your name on his lips as his own release washes over him. He stills inside you, panting against your neck as he tries to regain his breath. Your arms hold him to you for as long as you can, worried that when he pulls away this would all disappear and you would be standing in your kitchen as if nothing had happened. 

After a few moments, he slowly slips out of you, propping himself up on his elbows over you to look over your face. His face still carried that borderline grumpy look, but the edges were softened, gentle. His fingers lift to delicately trace along your jaw and your eyes flutter at the feeling, leaning into his touch. 

"Of all the times I have imagined this very thing, nothing compares to the actual feeling of you..." You open your eyes to look up at him, your heart swelling in your chest. You open your mouth to speak, but once again find yourself at a loss for words. He gives the smallest glimpse of a smile before getting up to clean himself off, coming back to join you in bed. He gathers you into his arms, pulling the blanket over the both of you. Once again you find your ear pressed against his chest, the heartbeat strong and steady.  Your mind begins to race at the thought of what had just happened, and Pero feels you stiffen in his arms. His fingers trace lines along your spine in an attempt to soothe you, grunting in question. 

"Please don't leave..." you whisper against his chest, so quiet he isn't sure he hears you. 

"What was that?" 

"Please...please don't leave. You have a job now and you're making money and can afford your own place and I know I said this was a temporary thing till you got back on your feet but," You look up at him with watery eyes. "But I don't want you to leave...I want you to stay here, with me." He looks down at you with an unreadable face, his fingers stilling on your back. 

"Maravillosa... I would not do such a thing to you." His gruff voice was still coated in the honey warmth of his own release, and it warmed you through. "I will go nowhere, I swear to you."  At his words, you let out a breath you hadn't realized you had been holding, relaxing into his arms to let your cheek rest against his chest. 

Pero Tovar is not a soft man. He is war hardened. A man of few words. His face always borders on a scowl when he is awake, but when he looks at you, his eyes soften just a touch, the crease in his brow smoothing ever so slightly. Pero Tovar is a grumpy Spaniard, but he is your grumpy Spaniard, and that is all that mattered. 

-----------

Translations:

gruñón : Grumpy Hermossa: Beautiful Amiga: friend Maravillosa : Marvelous or gorgeous Te sientes como el cielo... : You feel like heaven

Tag list:  @yespolkadotkitty​, @lackofhonor​, @cryptkeepersoul​ Tag list is open! Requests are open!

[flightlessangelwings]

A Better Man, Chapter 4 (end)

Pero Tovar x fem!reader

Word count: 2.2k

Warnings: mild violence, minor character death, kidnapping, protective!Tovar, fluff

gif credit: @thewaythisis​

~

The job ended up more difficult than Tovar expected. The target was harder to find and put up more of a fight than Tovar thought he would. Because of that, Tovar ended up taking longer than he wanted. He hoped that he would be gone a day or two at most, but when it took almost four days, the Spaniard grew more and more anxious. And when the target was tougher than he looked and nearly took Tovar down with him, he got a bad feeling in his chest.

Tovar rushed back as fast as he could, and he decided that he would stop at the orphanage first before he reported back to the magistrate. Something in the back of his mind told him that he was needed there. And as he rode through the town, Tovar noticed a column of smoke that rose from where he headed. 

With a growl, Tovar ran faster and prayed to whoever would listen that you and the children were ok. However, as he got closer and closer, his hope ran low and he realized that the smoke did in fact rise from where the orphanage once stood. He swallowed the lump in his throat as he moved as fast as he could, but nothing prepared him for what he saw when he finally reached your home.

The entire building was burned to the ground, and Lydia and all the children stood close by. She tried her best to comfort the children, who were all in tears, and even from a distance, Tovar could tell that she barely held herself together. Everyone seemed to be unharmed, but there was one person who was not among the crowd.

Tovar grit his teeth as he pushed past the crowd that gathered and his eyes scanned the area for you. He whispered your name under his breath and balled his hands into fists when he couldn't find you anywhere.

“Mr. Tovar…” a small voice broke him out of his trance.

He looked down to find that Luca stared up at him with big, sad eyes. The boy had bruises all over his face, and a cut on his arm. Right away, Tovar dropped to his knees and inspected the wounds on Luca’s face, “What happened?”

The boy sniffled once before he pulled himself together, determined to be brave and strong in front of the mercenary, “The… magistrate…” he dropped his gaze as he took in a deep breath, “He came this morning…”

Tovar furrowed his brows, “Are you alright?”

Luca nodded, “I’m sorry… I tried…”

The Spaniard didn’t know what to do. He was never the best at comforting others, and he had to also keep his own rage in check in front of the children. Tovar said your name, “Where is she?”

The boy looked up, and Tovar knew before he even spoke what his answer was, “They took her,” he couldn’t stop the sob, “I’m sorry Mr. Tovar. I tried. I wanted to protect her but…”

“Hush little one,” he squeezed his shoulders, “You did your best,” Tovar tried to reassure the boy, although it was hard for him to keep his tone more neutral, “Stay here, keep the others safe,” he clenched his jaw, “I’m going to get her back.”

*

The door to the magistrate’s large, lavish mansion burst open as Tovar stepped into the room with purpose. He held his swords firmly in his grip and wore a deep scowl on his face that he hadn’t had since before he met you. His glare only intensified when he laid eyes on the magistrate, who sat in a large cushioned chair on the far end of the large room.

“Oh look who’s back,” the magistrate mocked Tovar with a wicked smirk.

“You sound like you didn’t expect to see me again, señor,” the mercenary taunted right back, although his rage boiled just below the surface as he spoke. 

Tovar was correct; the magistrate genuinely did not expect to see him again. The job he sent him on was supposed to be a trap, and Tovar was never supposed to actually defeat the man. But he did not let the fear show on his face.

“Now you are aware of how dangerous I can be,” Tovar continued in a low growl as he gripped his swords tightly, “You will tell me where you have her and maybe I will spare all your lives.”

The magistrate’s guard immediately jumped into action, but Tovar was ready. Swords clashed as he fought them all off, fueled by his anger. Once all the guards were dead on the ground, the mercenary turned to the magistrate once again, “Now, tell me… Where is she?” He lifted his now blood-soaked sword as he stepped towards the trembling magistrate.

You heard the sounds of a fight echo from the hallway, and you knew you had to do something. The magistrate kept you locked in his bedroom, but when you immediately tried to escape, he added a chain around your ankle that tied to his bed. It had a little bit of give, but not much and you couldn’t go too far from the bed. 

He left you alone while he went into the main room to conduct his business, and you collapsed down in defeat at first. You wondered where Tovar was, and you prayed that he was ok. When the magistrate’s men grabbed you, one of your first thoughts was of him. You hoped that he survived whatever the magistrate sent him in to, since you figured that the job was most likely some sort of trap.

You let out a sob as you curled yourself up into yourself. You had lost your home, your freedom, and possibly the one person who held your heart all in one day. Yet, you still resisted against the magistrate, and you were even able to leave a scar on his face as you fought off his advances. 

But you lifted your head up when you heard what sounded like a battle within the walls of the magistrate’s home. Your heart pounded in your chest as you heard the clash of swords and the screams of the guards. That was when you decided you did not want to stick around to find out the cause of the battle, or to be the next victim.

You tried as hard as you could, but you couldn’t get the chain to budge. Frantically, you searched for something to smash against the chain, but everything you tried failed. With a frustrated sigh, you sunk down to the floor and stayed still for several moments until you heard the sound of heavy footsteps down the hallway.

The sound re energized your fire, and you had to figure out a way to defend yourself… and quickly. Your eyes darted around the room and landed on a large vase on the bedside table. Quickly, you got to your feet and ran around to the other side of the bed where the vase stood, and you strained to reach those last few inches for it.

Luckily, you grabbed it just in time as you heard the door rattle and burst open. You took in a deep breath and hurled the vase at the door without fully looking where you aimed. In your fear, your vision blurred slightly and you saw a figure dressed in all black quickly jump out of the way of your projectile. Tears filled your eyes as you crouched down and tried to make yourself as small as possible.

“It’s me,” you heard a familiar voice say your name.

You looked up to find that Tovar stood in the doorway with his sword in his hand. He had an intense expression on his face, and you could see small cuts on his body, but he didn’t seem to care about that. He only cared about you and your safety. When he said your name again, you let out the breath you held and you stepped towards him as much as you could before the chain yanked you back.

Before you tripped over the chain, strong arms caught you and held onto you tightly. You couldn’t help the tears that fell down your cheeks, only this time they were tears of relief instead of fear. You whispered his name as you both slowly sank down to the floor.

“Are you alright, querida?” Tovar asked as he pulled back enough to check you over for injuries. You had gotten some blood on your cheek from him, but he tenderly wiped it away.

“I’m ok,” you voice was hushed as you leaned into his touch. You looked into his eyes for a time before you spoke again, “You came for me.”

His features softened, “Of course I came for you.”

Suddenly, you gasped as you remembered where you were, “The magistrate…” panic laced your voice as you held tightly to Tovar’s strong arms.

“Shhh, it’s alright,” he replied in a calm a voice as he could, “He’s dead,” Tovar paused when you looked at him with wide eyes, “He can’t hurt you or anyone else anymore.”

Your breath caught in your throat and you clung to Tovar tightly as you crashed your lips against his in a desperate kiss. He wrapped his arms around you in a protective hold as he kissed you back with just as much need. Everything that was left unsaid between the two of you before he left was spoken in the kiss, and neither of you needed the words spoken out loud to know what the other felt.

*

The sun shined bright and high in the sky and you were outside to enjoy the beautiful day with the children. A few months had passed since the day Tovar rescued you from the magistrate’s mansion and not a day had gone by without the Spaniard on your mind.

It felt strange at first to move into the lavish villa that was briefly your prison, but the townspeople all came together and decided to use the building as the new orphanage. You had to admit, it was much nicer than where you used to be, and after a few nights you became much more comfortable within those walls. The children loved it right away, and wasted no time to make themselves comfortable.

“Luca, be careful with that please,” you called to the child who practiced with his new dagger. 

“Sorry,” he called over his shoulder when he fumbled with the weapon. He had gotten better with time, but you still couldn’t help the nerves whenever Luca held it in his hands. “I’ll be careful, I promise,” he gave you a smile that made your heart melt.

Luca meant so much to you, as did all the children, but ever since the day the magistrate took you, your bond became unbreakable. He practically threw himself at the men as they tried to take you, and he fought just as hard as Tovar would have. 

The scar across his cheek also added to the familiar feeling of the mercenary. Luca wore it proudly, and said it made him just like Tovar, who he admired so much.

Just as your mind wandered to the mercenary, a chord of little voices changed his name. You lifted your gaze to find Tovar walk confidently up to the villa, and he was met with the usual crowd of children as his welcome party. With a wide grin, you watched as he greeted each child by name.

“Did you watch over her, Luca?” Tovar asked as he brushed the boy's cheek playfully.

“Yes sir,” Luca beamed back.

Tovar then looked over Luca’s shoulder and met your eyes for the first time in weeks. He always missed you when he went away, and both of you worried for the other when you were apart. But now he was back and everything was right again.

You greeted Tovar with wide arms and he swept you up into his embrace as if you would float away if he let you go.

“I missed you,” you whispered into his ear and you felt him smile against your cheek. 

“And I you, querida,” his voice was low and you could feel his chest rumble against yours. 

Tovar stayed by your side while you, Lydia and the children got settled in the new space. Once he was sure you were comfortable, he left for short periods of time on mercenary jobs to help out. And you made sure he always had a place to stay whenever he came back.

“How long will you stay this time, Pero?”

He smiled at you, a warm genuine smile that was only for you, “I can spare more time now, querida,” his heart pounded in his chest when your face lit up, “It’s good to be home.”

You froze and your heart fluttered as you processed his words, “Home…” you echoed in a hushed tone.

His grip on you tightened, “And perhaps next time you can join me. See the world for a time before we come back home together.”

As you smiled through the happy tears that formed in your eyes, you nodded, “I’d like that very much,” you whispered as you closed the space between your bodies again. Tovar held you tightly, his whole world, his home, safe in his tight embrace. 

~

Notes: Thank you all so much for the love on this fic!! What was supposed to be a one shot ended up 4 chapters and over 11k words! 

[mudhorn-djarin19]

Princesa Chp.1 (Pero Tovar x f!reader)

Summary: A princess who ran away from home comes across and falls for the grumpy mercenary. What will happen between them and for her future of being a princess? Rating: Explicit Warnings: mutual pining, unprotected piv sex, fingering, language, use of the word whore/meaning sex worker during the time frame - Please let me know if I missed any. AO3 Link | Masterlist | Join taglist via here! More chapters to come will be linked here and taglist! ____ “The tavern we’ve settled up in for the time being isn’t far. You can ensure you’ll be safe with me and my friend. We have traveled all over and are skilled in many aspects. Is there anywhere specific you are trying to go to?” You nod and thank him before climbing up onto his horse with him. You had yet to tell him who you were exactly, just that you were a girl who needed help to keep moving. Little did he know that you were actually a princess of a kingdom not too far away. You had run away when your father told you that soon you were to be sent off to another kingdom and wed their prince. You grew up being a princess and having to do all the princess things but always hated, preferring to do what you mother called “unladylike things” one for example being sword fighting. “Thank you sir. I greatly appreciate the help. No, there is no where specific I am trying to go. Just need to keep moving.” You say. “I will explain more when we are in a safe enclosure.” The trip to the tavern wasn’t long. William leads you in and up to the room he and his partner had booked. Upon entering the room you see a man sitting hunched over in a chair, sharpening a sword. He looks up when he hears the door open, his eyes meeting yours, a scowl across his face.“I thought you said you were going for some food. Not a whore.” He grumbled at William. “She is not a whore. She is traveling and needs help. I allowed her to join us for the time being. Here.” William says tossing the man a bag of what you can assume is food. The man scoured as he took the bag, opening it and biting off a chunk of the bread inside. “This is my friend and partner Pero Tovar.” William states, motioning to the man.  “So who are you girl?” Pero asks, biting off another chunk of bread.You sigh, worried that once you tell them the thrush it’s all over. So you decide to wait. “I’m Y/N. I am trying to travel as far away from this area as possible. I have people looking for me and I do not want to be found.” “Why are these said people looking for you?”  Pero asks. “What did you do?” “Nothing. It’s my family looking for me. I ran away from home and wish to not return. I came across your friend William here and he said I could join you two on your travels. I can use a sword so I can be of help to fight plus traveling alone as a woman can be scary, I’d appreciate the help of two skilled men.”  You smile.Pero scoffs. “Fine. Just don’t get in our way of any jobs we pick up on the way.” “I will allow you to take my bed for the night miss. One of us will sleep on a cot on the ground.” William says looking at Pero stating in a way it’d be him. “Amigo…” He glares. “Like hell I will.” “I would hate to cause you the trouble to do that. Please I will be fine to sleep on the cot. I have done so before. These beds were yours originally before you picked me up, I shall not steal them from you.” You say. William hesitates for a moment before getting a second confirmation from you. He sighs and rids of his armor before crawling into his bed for the night. Not long passed before he passed out, leaving you alone with Pero who continues to sharpen his sword. “You said you can use a sword, si?” He asks, not looking up at you. “Yes I can. I am probably know where near as skilled as you but I know my way around.” You smile. “Who taught you. It is odd for a woman to know how to use a sword.” He says. “A family friend taught me in secret. My mother did not like the fact I wanted to learn but, I did so anyways.” You chuckle. He continues to listen to you talk, while he finished sharpening his blades, asking for yours then next and sharpening it as well. He has a harsh exterior and seemed scary at first but the longer you chat to him the more it seems it’s just his outer shell. A hard front he puts on. Nightfall falls quick and you shuffle some blankets around as you make a cot on the floor between the two beds as Pero sheds his armor and crawls into the other bed in the room. You're not sure how long had passed as you lay there shivering, failing to realize how cold it’d be tonight and how lacking in warmth a cot on the floor would be. “I can hear your bones rattling girl. Come here.” Pero speaks. “Wh-what?” You ask back. “Come here.” He growls.  You do as you’re told, crawling out from your cot and over to Pero’s bed. He lifts the blanket covering his bed up and scoots over to give you some room. You stand beside the bed and eye him in the moonlit room a bit concerned. “I am not going to do anything to you but keep you warm. We both need rest before we travel more tomorrow, now come on.” He says. Making note of his word you crawl into the bed next to him. He tosses the covers back over you both and presses his back against yours, so some of his warm body heat can radiate off onto you. You sigh in content as you feel much warmer and comfier already, silently thanking the new companion for his random kindness. It’s not long before you both are quick to doze off for the night. Morning arrives quicker than you had hoped and you are awaken by Pero grumbling beside you. You feel the bed shake a bit and Pero curse in his mother tongue before sitting up. “Amigo… what?” He glares at William who had kicked him awake. “I see you have taken a quick liking to our new companion here.” He says, eyeing you both. You roll over and sit up, rubbing your eyes to look up at William. “I was cold last night on the cot I had made. He was kind and offered for me to share with him to stay warm.” “Pftt him doing acts of kindness?” He eyes his friend suspiciously, silently asking him questions.The two have a silent stare down for a solid minute before Willam finally turns and starts to place his armor back on his body. Pero grumbles and crawls out of bed, following suit. You didn’t have as much armor as them to put on so you stayed wrapped in the warmth of the bed for a few minutes while they got ready before you finally emerged. Once everyone in your trio was set you made your way down and out of the tavern to their stables where Pero and William had their horses. “You do not have your own stallion do you hermosa?” Pero asks you. You shake your head. “No sir, I do not. I arrived here from where I came from just on my own two feet.” “You will need to ride with one of us then if that is okay with you.” William states. You nod and look at Pero seeing if he will offer for you to ride with him. He notices and nods. You step closer to him and take hold of his hand as he helps hoist you up onto his horse. He climbs on behind you, wrapping an arm around your waist to keep you sturdy. Once all were set you made your way out of the small village heading East. The sun was shining today making it unbearably hot. You’re glad for your lack of armor and lightweight clothes so you didn’t over heat. You wonder how Pero and William managed with such heavy armor and many layers. You tilted your head back against Pero’s chest and looked up at him. His armor warm against your hair. He looks down at you and raises an eyebrow. “How do you two survive in such heavy armor in this weather?” You ask. “We are used to it. We have traveled in many different weathers. We have just grown accustomed to adjusting.” He responds. You smile and nod, lifting you head back up to focus on where you are traveling to. The trip took two weeks before you arrived in the next town. Each night you made camp in a spot hidden as best as possible. You laid in between William and Pero each night for protection, Pero continuing to lay close to you to keep you warm with his body heat. Over the two weeks of travel you had gotten to know the two better, still being cautious on what you share about yourself. However, through this time of learning about the two you had found yourself falling for the grumpy Spaniard. Arriving into town William spots a tavern and leads you all over to it. You tie your horses up and make your way into the new town's tavern. After checking in with the host, William hands you a key, having booked two rooms this time so you have your own bed for the night. You thank him and all head up the stairs to the designated rooms which are across the hall from each other. You enter your room and the boys entering their own, all going to rest before one of them makes a food run. “Amigo, a woman shouldn’t be left alone. Not in a town we don’t know. I think it is best if one of us stays with her as protection if anything should happen.” Pero says to William as he shuts the door behind him. “Tell me… You normally despise anyone we bring into our duo for travels. What is so different about her? Is it because she is a woman? You didn’t treat the last woman who joined us this kindly.” William says. “I do not have to answer your silly questions,” Pero grumbles. “You want to bed her, don't you?” William smirks. Pero scowls at him and rolls his eyes. “She is different. There is something about her I am drawn to. Is that so wrong amigo?” “Not at all my friend. Just shocking to see you take so kindly to someone. Hell you don’t even take that kindly to me.” He chuckles. “I still think a part of you just wants to bed her.” “Si, maybe so partially. But, I will not treat her like those women I have been with previously. I don’t want to just use her. As I said I am drawn to her in some way.” Pero grumbles. “Pero I think the term you are looking for is attraction. Love perhaps? Have you never felt such a thing?” William chuckles. “No amigo. If you do not recall majority of the women we come across go for your pretty face. Not my scarred scowling mug. Plus I have not been with anyone who wasn’t a whore. I did not want them for more than what I was paying them for.” William shrugs his shoulders guiltily. “Perhaps this is a new beginning then. Go, you can be her protection. See if she warms up to you more. She already seems to have taken a liking to you. I will go for food again and bring you both some back” Pero nods and heads out the door across the hall to knock on your door. You answer it standing in nothing but your shift. “Yes sir?” You ask. “I figured it is not smart to leave you, a woman, alone for the night in a town we don’t know. I have come to stay in your room for the night and offer protection if anything may happen.” He states. You chuckle and shake your head. “I think I will be okay but I appreciate it.” You say, and notice a slight frown on his face with your dismissal of him. “However, please do come in. Even though I may not feel I need the protection, I would not mind the company.” You smile. You open the door farther for him to come. He steps in and drops his sword and bags down against the nearby chair. Quickly discarding his armor too, leaving him in just his trousers and tunic. “I just got out of the bath and was about to change.” You say. “My apologies. I did not mean to disturb. I can leave and come back later.” He quickly says. “You’re okay. You can stay.” You say as you start to pull your shift over your head. Pero’s eyes widen as he sees the material slowly rise up over your thighs. He quickly looks away as to be respectful. You toss the material down on the floor and chuckle as you notice him facing away from you. You walk up behind him and wrap your arms around his waist. Pero tenses at your touch. It’s not that he doesn’t want it but that he is taken by surprise. Most women he would be right down to do so but you are different. You are not the same as them. He doesn’t want to mess things up with you. Maybe William was right on the feelings he was feeling. “You don’t have to shy your eyes away from me.” “Hermosa… we just met recently. You are not the same as other woman I have been with...”  He says, not turning around. “Yes sir, I know.” You say. “However,I find you rather handsome and kind. I do not mind if your eyes look upon my bare body. In fact I’d like you too and I want to do the same to you... ” Pero tenses as you start to slide your hands down his torso. He grabs your hands to stop them.  “Don’t get me wrong, I find you absolutely beautiful and would love to bed you.” He sighs. “I have never been drawn to someone quite like I am drawn to you. I fear of ruining it. I don’t want to treat you like the other women I have been with.” You giggle and wrap your arms around him tighter. “I am drawn to you too sir. That is why I wish to share an intimate moment with you. You need not fear of ruining anything.” Pero sighs as he gives in, and finally turns around to face you, eyes flicking up and down your body. He smirks at the sight. “You are even more beautiful than I could have imagined.” You blush at the compliment and slide your hands up his torso, lifting his tunic with it. He pushes it off his body the rest of the way before untying his trousers, tossing them with the tunic on the floor. You take a second to admire his body, the soft muscle and scars littering his body. “You have such beautiful skin. Not a single scar littering your body unlike mine.” He says. You guide him back to your bed, turning him so the back of his legs hit the edge and he is forced to sit. You throw a leg over his hip, the other following as your straddle his lap, which entices a groan out of him. You run your hands down his body admiring all the scars that litter his torso, arms and even the prominent one across his eye.  “I think all of your scars are beautiful. How did you get this one?” You ask, gently touching the one on his face. “Fight with a knight. William and I were hired to help a kingdom for a small bit of time, me and a fellow knight did not get along so we dueled. I got side tracked and he hit me with a dagger. I am lucky my eye is still there.” “What about these?” You ask pointing to three marks in a row on his shoulder. “Fight with an animal.” You hum in response, realizing how many there are and how they all must have stories. He continues to watch you as your trace a finger over several different scars. A knock comes from the door and Pero grumbles, realizing it’s William. “William… with food.” He grunts, grabbing your hips to move you off of him to sit you on the bed next to him. He digs into his bag and grabs a pair of trousers, quickly pulling them on. He trots over to the door then and opens it, seeing William standing there with 2 bags. “Thank you.” Pero says, quickly grabbing the two bags and glaring at William who is smirking at him knowingly. Pero kicks the door shut quickly and walks back over to you, where you are still sitting on the bed. “Hungry?” You nod and go to grab your clothes, throwing on a tunic and skirt. You plop back  down on your bed then, Pero joining you and handing you one of the bags. Digging in you find that William had found some turkey legs and bread for food tonight. Much better than the scraps you had been eating for the past few weeks. You both quickly gobble down the meal before curling up into bed for the night. Pero at first jumping up to move to the chair, still not wanting to push any boundaries with you. “Come lie with me.” You say to him, grabbing his hand before he gets too far. He looks at you and you sigh in response. “Sir please. Also stop being so afraid of me. We have already been naked together and you already know how I feel about you.” He nods and crawls back into the bed next to you, laying on his back. He curses these feelings he has. Normally any other woman he would have conquered by now and moved on but, you… he doesn’t want to do that. It’s different. Once he is situated you crawl over and rest your head against his chest. His arm wraps around your torso, drawing you closer to him. “You said you wanted to bed me earlier, yes?” You ask. “Mhm. I did.” He replies, gently rubbing your arm. “Then why don’t you?” You reply as you press a kiss to his jaw. Pero groans and grabs your jaw, gently tilting your head up to look at him. “Positive hermosa? I don’t want you to regret anything.” You nod and place a kiss to his lips now. “Please.” With your confirmation he rolls you both over so you are on your back and he is hovering over you. He slides his hand down your breasts and torso, gripping the hem of your tunic to pull it up off your body. He pulls your skirt down next then sits back on his haunches to admire your naked body presented before him. “You are divine hermosa.” He says, leaning down to kiss your inner thigh.You whine at the contact, wanting more. He leaves a trail of kisses from your thigh up your torso, stopping at your breasts. He slides a hand up and cups the one, gently squeezing as he presses a kiss to the other. Slowly he takes the nipple into his mouth and flicks his tongue against it, while the hand holding the other gently pinches the other. You gasp at the feeling and slide your fingers into his soft locks. He moves his mouth down to trail kisses over your stomach and slides a hand down to your core. His eyes meet yours, confirming that this is what you really want. You give him a confirmation nod and he slides a finger into you. He hums in response at how wet you are already. He teases the single finger in and out of you a bit before adding a second. His thumb finds its way to your clit. His fingers continue to work your core, bringing you closer to your release. You feel your body jitter a bit as you get close to the edge, he notices this and promptly removes his fingers from you. You whine at the loss. “I want you to come on my cock hermosa.” He states. You nod in response and watch as he undoes his trousers, kicking them to the floor. He hovers over your body and fists his cock a few times before lining it up at your entrance. He eyes you once again for confirmation and once he sees you nod he slowly pushes himself into you. Bottoming out inch by inch. You both stay still for a few seconds catching your breaths and getting used to the sensation of one another. You reach up and stroke his cheek, a finger gently caressing the scar across his eye as you ask him to move. He does as told, slowly pulling out of you leaving only the tip before pushing back in. Normally he is rough in the bedroom but he wants to be soft with you and take his time. He continues to thrust in and out of you, one hand braced beside your head to keep him up, the other trailing down to work at your clit again. His mouth finds yours once again. “You feel so good hermosa. So warm and tight.” He says in between thrusts. “As do you sir. I feel so full.” You smile. It’s not long before you feel your release coming forth. “I am close.” You whine. Pero nods and works at thrusting in and out of you faster, as well as rubbing your clit faster. “Cum for me. I want to feel you cum on my cock like I said.” He smirks. That was all it took for you to let go, your release washes over you. He continues to thrust in and out of you as you come down from your high. He feels his release coming forth too. As much as he would love to breed you, he doesn’t want to risk it yet. It’s too soon so he pulls himself out, fisting himself a few more times and cums on your stomach. He flops down next to you, both breathing heavily. He rolls to face you, swiping a finger through the cum he released onto your stomach and brings it up to your mouth. You happily suck it off his fingers. Once both calmed down from the action he crawls out of bed and grabs the rag from the bath, get it damp and comes back to wipe his release off your stomach. He chucks it back into the tubs and crawls back into the bed with you. Wrapping an arm around your waist and bringing you flush up against his chest. “Were you satisfied hermosa?” He asks. “Yes sir. Very much so. I have only ever had one other partner before and you exceed that. Thank you for taking me to bed. I hope we can bed each other another time.”  You smile and kiss his cheek. “Of course. Stay with us and I will gladly bed you whenever you like.” He smirks. “Though next time I may be more rough on you like I prefer.” You raise an eyebrow and smirk back at him, amused. You curl into his chest and quickly doze off for the night. Happy to have progress whatever this new relationship with this newfound partner is. Pero keeps you wrapped in his arms falling asleep not too long after you. Happy but confused by these new feelings he had found with you. Whatever they are he will work through them and he hopes you stay with him and William for a while if not forever.

Taglist: @sarahjkl82-blog @ickleronniekinsemotionalrange @blackberries45

[wileys-russo]

Hi, can you please make another ficlet for team bonding. The story is so good!!!

y'all really do be going crazy in the asks for mapi x ingrid x reader can't blame you tbh i adore them

team bonding team bonding ficlet

if there was one thing you hadn't predicated with your insanely irregular sleeping schedule, was for it to eventually bleed into your relationship.

which is why it took you so by surprise to come home one afternoon, having gone out for lunch to catch up with an old friend who was travelling around europe, and find ingrid dead asleep on the sofa.

you almost thought she was joking, mocking your regular afternoon naps in the sun as she curled into herself on the end of the lounge, tall limbs bathed in the warm barcelona sun which shone through the huge windows of your apartment.

so you'd smiled and let out an amused chuckle, moving to the bedroom and abandoning your bag, your other girlfriend sprawled out on the bed, the spaniard engrossed in a tense game of fifa.

you shook your head as an angry string of spanish let her mouth, cursing patri who was playing remotely from her own apartment across town, forever competitive in every aspect of her life on and off the pitch.

"don't play for too long amor your eyes will go square." you teased, kissing her cheek a few times as she hastily blew you one of her own, her intense gaze never leaving the screen on the wall for even a second as she scored and yelled loudly in celebration making you smile in amusement.

though your smile turned into a curious frown as you left the bedroom and again still found ingrid curled up in the sun, glancing down as bagheera rubbed himself affectionately against your leg.

"hola bello." you smiled, reaching down to scratch behind his eyes as he purred, the small noise causing the norweigen to crack open one eye tiredly, wincing and covering her face with her hand.

"good morning vakker jente." you teased, a tired smile curling into her cherry pink lips at her native language as you moved to stand beside her, moving a few loose strands of hair out of her face.

still half asleep she stayed silent, exhaling tiredly and reaching up to tug on your shirt, opening her arms and shuffling backwards a little to make room beside her.

"holaa." you sang out quietly with a smile, giving in and laying down beside her, placing a soft kiss to her lips as she hummed, eyes fluttering closed again as her hands settled on the small of your back, drawing your body even closer into hers.

"what happened to 'sleeping in the middle of the day is a meaningless waste of time and energy'?" you grinned, your palm settling on her warm cheek as you stole another few sweet kisses, your girlfriend far too tired to do much more than accept them with a soft smile.

"shush." she mumbled, her hand covering your face as your body vibrated with amusement against hers. "so you now admit a midday nap is nice, no?" you teased, poking at her nose as she huffed. "you're a bad influence elskling." ingrid murmured, a small smile fighting its way not to spread across her face.

"you have to wake up mi vida, we have media in an hour." you reminded gently, moving your hand to slip up her top, tracing a finger up and down her bare side.

"mmm ten more minutes." she exhaled deeply, eyes closing again as she pulled you even closer into her taller figure if that was even possible. "okay baby, ten more." you laughed quietly, shuffling up slightly as her face tucked into the side of your neck, a few lazy kisses pressed to your jaw.

however your blissful peace didn't even last another five, the door to your bedroom opening and footsteps sounding as your eyes opened just in time to see a blur of blur of blonde hair, tattoos and a pearly white grin come hurtling toward you.

"maria!" you both groaned with a grunt as she threw her body down onto the two of you. "bon dia!" the defender sang out loudly, kisses pressed all over your tangled limbs, her warm lips eventually spreading their attack onto your faces.

"you are such a child!" you huffed, pushing her face away and curling more into ingrid who held on tightly. "hey! where was my invite?" mapi sat up, her lower half wedged inbetween the two of you as she scowled.

"you were too busy with patri yelling at your stupid game like the players can hear you." ingrid mumbled, her eyes still firmly shut as you laughed.

"ah! puta." you kicked at your girlfriend who sharply pinched the back of your thigh, mumbling about the two of you always ganging up on her.

"move, let me in the middle." the eldest of the three of you gestured with her hands, huffing impatiently when neither of you moved a muscle. "por favor mi amor's, move!" she whined now, pouting like a betrayed toddler making you roll your eyes.

you felt ingrids lips curl into a smile against your skin as she buried her face deeper into your neck, again neither of you moving, if anything only tucking in closer to one another. "bien!" she grunted, leaning down and starting to forcefully drag you away from the warm comfort of your girlfriends arms.

"no, maria!" you couldn't help but laugh, tangling your legs with ingrids as mapi grunted, hands locking under your arms and hauling you away.

your body almost falling off the couch she rolled over you and slotted herself into the middle, arms wrapping around your midsection and tugging your back into her front.

"see bebita? much better." the spaniard sighed happily peppering your face with kisses before craning her neck back to grin up at ingrid who opened her eyes with a sigh and shook her head.

"you are such a softie."

[koolkat9]

27, 4 or 14 (you can pick whichever one from those three) from the shipping ask with Nyo england and germany if that's okay with you?? I love love love ur writing!

I tried to use all of them, but I couldn't get 4 into it without making it drag out. Hopefully this is good!

Prompt: “Hey, I’m with you, okay? Always.” and “I’m pregnant.”

Pairing: Nyo England x Germany with a small side of Nyo!Frain

Word Count: 1580

Bundle of Joy

She couldn’t believe it. There had to be some mistake. She couldn’t be pregnant. She was a nation, nations couldn’t biologically bear children, but those two pink lines on three different pregnancy tests said otherwise.

“Ma chérie,” Marianne murmured, hand on Katherine’s shoulder, “It's okay, perhaps it's a mistake.”

“On all three-”

“Oui, I know...but let’s not freak out right away. I’ll call the doctor and-”

“We aren’t supposed...what does…How...” Katherine’s panicked rambling was cut short by a light slap on her face.

“None of that,” Marianne scolded, “now I’m going to call the doctor and we’ll figure this out. In the meantime be a dear and make us some tea.”

Katherine wanted to protest, but her growing anxiety over this new discovery far outweighed her anger. Perhaps some tea would calm her nerves. As she waited for the water to boil, her mind couldn’t help but go back to those pregnancy tests. She shouldn’t have been so shocked. All the signs were there. Her nausea in the morning, the fact her period was late, her tiredness despite getting a goodnight's sleep, headaches, all could be associated with pregnancy. Her mind then began to wander, would there be complications since she was a nation, would the child be like them or human, how could she raise a child with her nation responsibilities? All kinds of (negative) questions swirled around Katherine’s mind before they were interrupted by the whistling of the kettle.

Marianne was just bidding the doctor goodbye by the time Katherine returned to the living room. “You have an appointment at noon today. He wants to see you as soon as possible since...you know...this is a...special occasion.”

Katherine rolled her eyes. “How comforting,” she deadpanned. Taking a seat on the couch she tried her best to distract herself by sipping away at her tea. It worked somewhat, but it involved some willpower to keep the overhanging concerns away. At least Marianne picked up on her anxiety and began talking about the date she was planning with Carmen. Although The Spaniard had tended to be a thorn in Katherine’s side for most of the time she knew her, she found herself relaxing a bit as Marianne began asking her about which kind of flowers she should get Carmen. “You know as well as I that you can never go wrong with red roses,” Katherine suggested.

“Very true.” The French woman’s gaze drifted towards the clock. “Oh would you look at that, 11:30 already? Shall we head out?”

So much for that brief time of calmness. With a deep breath and a moment to collect herself, Katherine agreed, walking out of the door with her head held high. After all, she wasn’t 100% certain she was indeed pregnant.

---

“Well...there is a bun in the oven,” Dr. Dyer said, throwing down some papers.

Katherine couldn’t believe it. Her throat became dry and her nausea from when she first woke up had returned. Once again her mind began to race with so many questions and worries, she was almost too wrapped up in it to notice Marianne wrapping an arm around her shoulder.

“I know this is...rare...for your kind Ms. Kirkland, but I assure you everything seems to be going fine so far. You’re about a month along.”

“That’s good to hear,” she managed to get out through gritted teeth.

He gave her a soft smile as he handed her over a paper. “I know you're nervous and it's quite a surprise in more ways than one. You have a few options outlined in that paper. I’ll let you sleep on it, discuss it with the father if you feel you need to and I’ll call back in a couple of days to outline the care you’ll need.”

Though her eyes were fixated on the paper, Katherine couldn’t process the words on the page and those Dr. Dyer was saying. She nodded all the same. Marianne thanked the doctor and then led a dazed Katherine out of the doctor’s office.

“Kath-” Marianne began only to be cut off by Katherine’s panic.

“What am I going to do? H-How did this even happen? A look of horror crossed her face. ``How am I going to tell Ludwig?”

“Katherine, let’s focus on one thing at a time. Do you want to keep this baby?”

Her brows furrowed for a moment as she contemplated the question. It would be easier to just put this all behind them, but at the same time, she had to admit she missed having a child to take care of. “Yes...o-of course,” she eventually concluded.

“Okay. Now the next thing, let’s tell Ludwig. He’s the father right?”

“Of course he is!” How dare she assume otherwise.

“Okay...Okay,” Marianne said, putting her hands up defensively, “Just making sure. Then we need to tell him.”

“H-He comes tomorrow...I’ll tell him then.”

Marianne took hold of Katherine’s arm and began guiding her down the street. “Parfait. Don’t beat around the bush. Just be direct and I’m sure everything will be fine. Ludwig loves you oh so much after all.”

Katherine nodded, though her stomach dropped at the thought of telling Ludwig.

---

She hadn’t slept well the night prior. Anytime she closed her eyes she was bombarded with questions and fears of the future for this baby and herself. The worst of it all was the fear of Ludwig leaving her as soon as he found out. He always had insecurities about being a father. Even just looking after Peter made him anxious (even though he was so good at it). So what would he say to know he would be having his own child. Katherine heaved herself out of bed around nine to ensure she got to the airport for ten to pick up Ludwig.

When she met that familiar pair of blue eyes at the gate, for a moment everything felt normal. She ran up to him to hug him and he practically picked her up as they embraced. Seeing Ludwig again never failed to fill her with joy regardless of how bad things seemed. Unfortunately, that happy feeling didn’t last long as reality soon came flooding back as they headed to the car.

Ludwig started picking up that something was wrong. The car ride was quiet and Katherine had barely looked at him since they left the airport. He hated to push especially when he knew Katherine sometimes had a hard time opening up, so instead, he opted for small talk.

“It's a lovely day,” he mused, looking out the window. It was indeed. The sun shone brightly in the clear blue sky. The temperature was still cool enough to not be boiling, but also not too cold that you needed a thick coat (a sweater maybe). “Perhaps we should have a picnic lunch or even dinner.”

The Brit only hummed half-heartedly as she remained focused on the road. After a few more attempts at conversation, Ludwig gave up on the hopes of a response and turned to look out the window instead. He trusted Katherine would let him know what was wrong in due time.

---

It had been two hours since Ludwig had been picked up from the airport which meant two hours of having to watch Katherine stare at nothing before distracting herself with preparing sandwiches and other small things for their picnic lunch. All the while barely even acknowledging Ludwig.

As she placed the last sandwich in the basket, Ludwig finally had enough of the quiet. “Okay, Something’s wrong. What is it?”

He was surprised when Katherine sighed a defeated sigh. Was it going to be that easy? “I’m pregnant,” she stated plainly.

Everything seemed to come crashing down at those words. Ludwig felt his throat go tight and his head begin swimming with so many questions, the main one being, ‘How is this possible?’ He opened and closed his mouth, trying to think of some form of reply.

“I-I know…” She sniffed, “I know it's a lot. There are a lot of questions and barely any answers, but I can say this: I’m pregnant and it's yours.”

At the sound of his lover breaking down into tears, all of Ludwig’s worries seemed to quiet. “Hey now." He gently took hold of her shoulders, rubbing them slowly. "Hey, I’m with you okay? Always. I was just...shocked... but it's okay. We'll figure it out."

"I'm keeping it,” she said sharply.

"I figured as much. You always did want another little one.” He gave her a gentle smile, guiding her gaze up.

"A-Are you sure you're okay with this? Just a moment ago-"

"You know me. Always a worrier, always wanting to have a plan, but I know we'll figure it out. We always do. I’m...We...You’re going to be a great mother."

She looked to the side, wiping her eyes quickly. "And you’ll be a great a father.”

“And we’ll be doing this together. We’ll have the doctor, we’ll plan, we’ll read up on whatever we can. Whatever we need. Nine months can be a long while.”

A sliver of a smile spread across Katherine’s face. “Mhm.”

“Now how about that picnic?”

She hummed in agreement, before pulling him down for a kiss. Taking hold of each other’s hands and grabbing the basket, the lovers set off to the park. As they exited the house, Katherine pulled Ludwig down for one more kiss before whispering, “Thank you.”

[five-miles-over]

‘Aftermath’ Part 9: Be Prepared (Commodus x OC)

Summary: With the Senate officially dissolved, new alliances and plans form. The Emperor calls an old advisor, and two military minds come together to save their Republic.

Warning: Mentions of violence

Word Count: 2,203 

Read Part 1: The Impossible Dream here

Read Part 2: Proud of Your Boy here

Read Part 3: Point of No Return here

Read Part 4: Look Down here

Read Part 5: Beneath a Moonless Sky here

Read Part 6: These Palace Walls here

Read Part 7: Wait For It here

Read Part 8: Something There here

“I had hoped you might have learned some humility and respect.”

Petronius scoffed as Gaius led him out of his villa, having spent the night there after a long discussion filled with songs about the Republic and philosophical quotes. The estate was quite modest for a Senator, or rather a former-Senator. Lemon trees that emanated a sublime citrus fragrance lined the front of the sandstone building.

“Forgive me, Senator. A general is one who only knows to fight their enemy whilst looking them in the eye. He knows not of the art of flattery or the strategy of bending words with a slip of his tongue.”

Gaius sighed. Such is the nature of most military men, he thought, save General Quintus. That man had enough intelligence to save his skin when Commodus seized power for the first time. However, like all military men, his allegiance ultimately returned to the Spaniard at the crucial moment of judgment. “You crave for too much, General,” the older man replied. “It does not become a warrior to yearn for bloodshed so strongly.”

“I want him dead, that is all,” Petronius dismissed. “Rome has suffered enough under his wing.”

“And we shall save our motherland,” Gaius finished. “But we must arm ourselves with alliances and unite the forces under our cause. In the meantime, there may be a chance that Mania may take control of our Caesar before any other weapon can.”

As he reached the iron-gates of Gaius’s estate, he snorted. “With all due respect, Senator. If you are waiting for Commodus to lose himself in madness, then it is now that we must strike.”

Petronius continued, “He has no one left, Gaius. Even his own family had begun to fear him - his sister, his nephew…and possibly anyone else who happened to know Commodus as a child. If we killed him now, there would be no one too mourn for him, or defend him.”

“Humor me, then. How would you, a mere general who lives off the Emperor’s bread and salt, kill him?” Gaius smirked condescendingly.

“Bribe the servants to poison him.”

“Suppose the servants decide to tell the emperor,” Gaius countered. “You would be caught, and they would be rewarded.”

“Then we bribe the gladiators to attack Commodus.”

“He pays their entertainers well enough. Why should they complain or succumb to the influence of an outsider?”

With every counter-remark given by the old man, Petronius felt his temper dissipate bit by bit. Who was Gaius to lecture about the importance of saving Rome from a dictator when he himself, let alone his friends, could not bring themselves to take action? Even after the loss of their positions within politics, all the men were talking about the night before was the beauty of Gaius’s seemingly splendid mistresses. Certainly the wine may have loosened their usually-sharp tongues, but it was surprising, nay unacceptable, to see the state of Rome’s greatest minds.

Could those men not see that by lying low, they were putting the lives of Roman citizens at risk? That by refusing to rise to their call of duty, that they were only clipping the wings of the eagle that symbolized Rome and its greatness? It would only be a matter of time before the emperor, in a bout of madness, paranoia, and pure malice, would sever the talons of this eagle and leave it as powerless as a common fowl.

The general’s nostrils flared while the veins in his forearms throbbed furiously. “I do not care for your shrewd statements, Senator. I do not wish to contemplate upon your retorts, nor do I wish to indulge your appetite for wordplay. As I have told you, I am a general - I shall fight with my hands and not with my tongue. My hands are bound to serve Rome, and all it stands for.”

“Nevertheless,” he hastily added. “Since I have shared your bread and wine, as well as taken refuge in your home during the night, I shall revere you as any proper guest ought to. Fare thee well, Senator. I hope that you and I shall meet again.”

“Fare thee well, General.” Gaius watched as the young man vanished into the hustle and bustle of the public square. He certainly had a problem with the much-too-transparent ideologies that military men had, but in order for Commodus to receive his duly-deserved demise, the Senators needed the favor of the military. Perhaps he ought to the be the one to vouch for diplomacy in the midst of this clash of ideals.

The city was quiet compared to most days, even for a mid-morning. Possibly due to the games taking place today, the plebeians seemed to be missing from the streets. However, peddlers were still out selling their goods - a man clamored for people to buy his new stock of clams and oysters, freshly caught from the Mediterranean, while another advertised fine silks imported from China. Various hues in various designs, he said. A dark red one with a golden border caught Petronius’s eye, immediately remembering his sister’s favorite color.

Perhaps he could buy a bolt of the silk for her, possibly as an attempt to apologize for being away all night. Ever since his brother-in-law had passed away from the wars against Germania, he had sworn to guard his sister and her two sons with his life. Keeping such a vow felt almost effortless under the reign of Marcus Aurelius, but under his son, it was the contrary. She wept in Petronius’s arms the night that Senator Gracchus died, saying that she was glad that her husband received an honorable death instead of a false treason accusation. At that moment, he shushed her for fear that the other Praetorian guards would hear her, reporting them both to the emperor. However, if he could turn back time, he’d tell her not to worry, for the emperor would not live long enough to turn Rome into ruins. And with a warm hug, he would seal his promise to her.

———————————————————————————————————————————————————————

Boots clicking, Emperor Commodus paced the empty throne room with a strangely serene look on his face. He’d just come from the games, which never failed to amuse him. For those moments in the Colosseum, he felt as powerful as the gods themselves, taking life as needed, while watching lesser beings fight to survive. Sweat beaded his forehead while he walked, and he almost wanted to remove his laurel crown off due to the heat. Nevertheless, an emperor had to look his best at all times.

From an outsider’s standpoint, it seemed that Emperor Commodus took the Senators’ tongues along with their power. Silence was all those dry old men had to give him today as well. He needed to know what they could possibly be thinking of, nay, he needed to know about their plan to end his reign before they could strike. It was time for an old loyalist to join minds with him again.

“Falco, I’ve been expecting you.” The former senator entered cautiously, his leather sandals echoing against the smooth floor of the palace halls. He bowed before the emperor and stood upright. From the events of last night, it was with much skepticism that any of the senators thought that they could ever receive the emperor’s good graces. Perhaps his former loyalty has now manifested into a blessing. “How may I be of service to you, Caesar?”

Commodus gestured for him to be seated. “I take it that you, along with your colleagues, have heard my decision regarding the new…alterations in the governance of Rome. It must certainly displease you and your colleagues, does it not?”

Without flinching, Falco kept his wits near despite the presence of the temperamental Emperor. “Caesar, I cannot speak for those men. With all due respect, they are no longer my colleagues. All I know is that you are my Emperor, and that every decision you take must have been formed with necessary contemplation." Falco knew he was telling lies. To the Senate, Commodus never gave the impression of a man of thought, let alone the impression of a man.

And as for the Emperor, he knew better than to take the former Senator’s words by face value. Nevertheless, he did need an ally and it was only Falco who gave him advice when the rest of the Senate sided with Maximus.

“Thank you, Falco. Out of those men, it seems that you are the only one who genuinely cares for my welfare. Your priorities lie for the Empire, and for none else. That is why I wish to make you my main advisor. With no Empress and no Senate, I need a good man like you by my side…to rule, and to care for the people.”

Pretending to be stunned, brimming with gratitude, Falco rose from his seat. “Highness, your offer is…one of high value.”

“Join me, Falco,” Commodus extended his hand, which was accepted by the former Senator. “Join me, and we shall usher in a new age of Rome.”

———————————————————————————————————————————————————————

The Sun was ruthless to the troops of Rome today - many a foot soldier grunted with displeasure as they sparred with each other under the sweltering heat. General Petronius and Centurion Philomenus greeted each other with a familiar look, having seen each other at Gaius’s meeting last night.

“I sense tension in your fingers,” the general pointed towards his peer’s hand.

Philomenus chuckled as he glanced at his knuckles circling the hilt of his sword. “I…I thought about my sister. How she must be waiting for me, and how the heat is making her uncomfortable.”

“I empathize - I have a sister as well. Her husband was a legionnaire - do you remember Felix Cassius? No…well, the army is quite massive.”

The centurion picked up his weapon, twirling it absentmindedly. “Forgive me for not knowing him. I think it would take one eons to count every single life lost during the late emperor’s battles in Germania.”

Petronius gritted his teeth. “I wish the emperor’s son lost his life in Germania instead of the emperor.” Almost immediately, Philomenus tackled him to the ground with a sandy hand over his mouth.

“You monster!” Petronius gasped as he tried to catch his breath. “What in the name of Jupiter was that for?!”

“It was for daring to speak against the Emperor. We both know that punishment would be doled out on both of us - on you for your impudent tongue, and on me for listening to your talk of treason.”

“Men like you make me sick,” the general spat. “Was it not you who quoted the great Marcus Aurelius himself, having memorized his extensive writings? Do you not know that by punishing those who speak out against Commodus, you only encourage his tyrannical, anti-republic ways?!”

“Perhaps, but I do know when to keep my tongue in my cheek,” Philomenus retorted. “Did you not see what happened to the Spaniard who dared to challenge the emperor?”

“The Spaniard was once a general, Philomenus. He used to be one of us. If he could not complete his revenge, it would be our responsibility to finish it for him.”

Shaking his head, he took the general behind a wall while pretending to be very thirsty. “I do believe in the ways of the Republic, and that Rome’s golden age ended when the republic was seized by a pompous man pretending to be a dictator.”

“Commodus is not Julius Caesar, Philomenus - he has no military prowess of his own, aside from formidable swordplay.”

“Please, just know that he will not last long. The grain will run out, and the public who loved him so much will turn their backs on him. But while he’s in power, let him be happy.”

“You sound just like those blasted Senators,” Petronius grunted. “Those old men can afford to live off their ancestral wealth for their remaining years, but you and I are not like them!”

Philomenus yelled back, suddenly triggered by the mention of familial affluence. “I know that! My parents perished when I was thirteen, leaving my sister and I penniless with a pair of newborn twins.”

“I have worked a long way to come where I am,” he continued to fume. “I know what I have read speaks of a Republic, but what can I do?! What can we do, given our state?”

“Then join me,” Petronius coerced the other man. “Help me think of a way to kill Commodus, and together we can bring back the Republic Rome was always meant to be.”

“Here is what we’ll do- we will ambush him from the exit gates of the Colosseum. And when he enters without bodyguards, we will make our presence known and attack him,” Philomenus whispered. “I will keep our weapons under my tunic so as not to arouse suspicion.”

“Anger has certainly brought your intelligence into light. I admire your plan, but what will I do?” Petronius asked with a raised eyebrow.

The centurion smirked, “Stay alive, and keep your goddamn mouth shut for once.”

“Commodus must die….for Maximus and for the Senate.”

“No, he must die for Rome.”

[wander-yet-wonder]

Bitonto going back home

Chapter one - Battle of Bitonto

Fandom: Hetalia Pairing: Spamano (Spain/Naples), Frain (Spain/Bourbon France), PAST Spaus, (Spain / Austria) Word count: 2698 Rating: All audiences (possible mature content in later chapters) Warnings: Implied references as to how Spain and Naples's relationship is unbalanced and possibly unhealthy. Pee. (In a bucket in a closet and non-graphic but just so ya know) Summary: "It had been twenty years, yet the moment he saw him it was like the first time again. Every part of him remembered at once his inescapable entanglement with this man: The absence hadn’t removed his shackles; the chain had just gotten longer." Antonio reclaims his territories in South Italy after Austria had taken them in the war of the Spanish succession. Caught between the warring factions like a boat in a maelstrom is the kingdom of Naples himself. Read on AO3: X

Roderich was an absolute, absolute, nightmare to deal with when he was stressed. Romano had experienced this more than enough the past twenty years; whenever the man was giving a dinner party and had started preparing too late. The house would be a mess, food needed to be cooked and of course none of the guests could see the actual state they lived in. The days before guests would come over Roderich was furiously cleaning and barking commands and orders at Romano to help. At days like that, the only moment of reprieve he'd get was to go get water at the town square and mooch some tobacco of the boys there.

Today felt similar somehow. Roderich was unprepared, outnumbered, frantic. He'd managed to scramble together a meagre 6000 men. It would not be enough, and he knew it. He'd been commanding Romano to ‘bring him his sword, no not that one, the other one, God you're useless boy! Just go and pack rations and-‘ Romano had listened to him listlessly. He really didn't feel like doing anything, just making sure his civilians didn't get hurt in the squabble.

He'd been sent out to go deliver some letters to the captain of the guard but on the way back he stalled... Why should he go back to that house? To be shouted at? Instead, he bought himself roasted chestnuts and climbed the stairs in the old bell tower of the chiesa di San Francesco d’Assisi, finding a comfortable hiding spot with a view amongst the parapets. His eyes fixed on the horizon and his limbs tingled with anticipation. He was coming. He couldn't see anything yet, but he knew: 12000 Spanish troops were just beyond the horizon. A strange feeling took hold of him. He'd been so numb lately, so apathetic to all this mess. Spain had been too broken to even acknowledge him when he left; seemingly enthralled by France and just- tired and sick. When Roderich had taken him, telling him that Spain was in no shape to take care of him, Romano knew that was the truth. But the Austrian had overestimated his own state of mind. He was keeping his head held up high, a strong and composed front for anyone to see. But Romano had to live with him and had to witness exactly how thin that veneer was. By now he'd cleaned about everything of the kitchen floor- broken plates, blood, vomit. He started to feel like he was the only adult here. He wasn't even certain if Spain had ever even thought about him after he'd been led out of his house. Years had passed afterwards and that had just confirmed for him that Spain hadn't even really noticed he was gone. He didn't want it to- but it had broken his heart a little. So those garrisons beyond the horizon breathed new life into a piece of him that he'd so diligently killed. He'd come for him. Yet he wasn’t just yearning, the advent of Spain would bring war to his town, so he dreaded it in equal amounts. From his hiding spot, he could see the monks in adjacent cloister rush about supplies so it could be used as a hospital for the inevitable wounded. It never ceased to be curious to him that the seagulls and doves would just soar over it all and nest here with him in the bell tower, over Spanish troops, over stubborn Austrians, and over Italian blood to be shed. They were just, above it all. As long as he was up here, in a way, he could be above it as well.

When Antonio would eventually cross the hills surrounding Bittonto and reach the town, the image of Romano eating chestnuts in the bell tower wasn’t what greeted him. Roderich had eventually noticed his charge had been missing for too long and had him dragged back to the house and, after that, to the city wall's defences. Romano got outfitted in some almost offensively basic armour and had a musket pressed into his hands. At daybreak, he was made to stand next to Austria when their cavalries and Antonio’s were facing each other. Roderich stubbornly declared that the people of South Italy didn't welcome the Spanish and that Spain was to leave at once. He elbowed Romano and he repeated the words without much heart. The face of Romano, who was standing next to Roderich- supposedly to make Antonio feel like Romano no longer wanted to be in his care- spoke volumes: ‘Please Antonio don't kill too many civilians and I'll gladly return to you’. He looked like what he was: a defiant teenager being made to stand somewhere and say something by an overbearing parent. Antonio turned a hard gaze to his ex-husband and smirked as he rose to the challenge. He didn’t say anything and just stepped closer to Roderich, who in a moment of weakness fidgeted with the ring on his right hand that he was still wearing. Satisfied with the reaction Antonio spat on the ground and turned his back as they both drew back into their ranks.

Watching a battle like this take place was an incredibly tense affair. Romano was stationed at the city walls, near the Porte Baresana, and was gripping his musket as he watched the Spanish cavalry perform feints. Antonio was provoking Roderich, trying to get him to react, trying to get him to break formation. There was a certain art to this game of strategy but he could only see it in theory later back in the studies of learned men during peacetime, here in the moment however he could only count the seconds until he’d get pulled into the chaos of combat. It didn’t take long for Roderich to take the bait; the sun was barely peeking over the olive groves on the surrounding hills when the cavalry broke. It had started. Romano loaded his musket in case he had to defend himself, not knowing if that would be against Spaniard or Austrian and watched Roderich’s neatly lined up cavalry ranks devolve into a disorganised scrambling mess. It was poetic somehow; this was the effect Antonio always had on Roderich. So often had Romano watched how all the refined order Roderich portrayed to the world would come undone and unravel at Antonio’s smallest provocation.

Then, one by one he could see riders break away from the group and disappear into the hills. “Accidenti! They’re fleeing!” He shouted to the soldier next to him, but also just half to himself. Roderich’s army was crumbling and fleeing in the direction of Bari. Romano leaned further over the balustrade, trying to see what happened but a cannon fired, and the infantry opened fire, causing thick clouds of gunpowder and smoke to obscure the view of the battle taking place in the valley. He ran down the wooden stairs of the temporary scaffolding that had been put up along the city wall to go and find a better viewpoint, but the moment he got down, the city gate burst open and Austrian soldiers rushed in. Amongst them was Roderich on horseback, smeared with soot and looking like a cornered animal about to jump. He spotted Romano instantly and grabbed his shirt. Romano got pulled close against the horse. The boy was nervous to be that close to the large animal in such a chaotic environment, it could trample him if it got spooked. Roderich leaned close so he could shout instructions at him over the noise of the battle and the chaos in town.

“I’m going to get reinforcements- defend the down! I’ll be back soon I promise.”

In a moment of forced parental affection, Roderich patted his head and smiled at him. “I have faith in you, you can do it!” He then let go and turned his horse. When he galloped out, Romano saw that Guiseppe Antonio, Prince of Belmonte, the commander of the Austrian troops followed him. They were without a leader in here, no general left to instruct the Austrian forces still within the walls. Romano ran the moment Roderich was out of sight, to hide, to keep himself safe. He was so done with cleaning up the mess these two had made of themselves. He was so done fighting Roderich’s battles. Still the Austrian soldiers, despite being without a leader showed no intention to surrender. Jogging as far from the battle as his heavy, clunky, slightly too large, armour permitted. Romano found an empty garrison building he could wait out the siege in. To his joy, he found an abandoned bottle of wine and a supply closet, perfect. To the devil with courage: this wasn’t his fight. He was just a leaf in the wind being blown around mercilessly by the powers of Europe, he might as well lament his fate with a bottle in hand, getting drunk. It also hurt less if you get shot when you’re drunk, he knew by experience, it numbs everything.

Halfway through the bottle, Romano got up to piss. A little unsteady, he made his way to the window and peeked outside to see if it was safe to find an alley or latrine. Oh, fuck no it wasn’t, soldiers were running around, and bullets were flying, he’d have to find an alternative. He searched the building a bit but didn’t dare to go too far from his supply closet: A stray bullet going through the windows could still hit him. He crawled on all fours to another door and opened it. It was another supply closet but this one was filled with ammunition… Oh, and a bucket thank god. Romano crawled in and closed the closet door. He stood up and unbuttoned his fly, let out a sigh of relief and started. As he was doing his business he started casually looking around at the closet, and then a great idea came to him. Great ideas tend to strike when you’re in the bathroom (or in this case a closet?), especially if they’re coming from that place of ‘not quite drunk but definitely beyond tipsy’ state of mind. There was a way to end this stupid battle without having to fight either the Spanish or the Austrian soldiers. With a shit-eating grin, he tucked himself away and took two kegs of gunpowder under his arms. He cracked the door open just enough so that he could look outside of it. Once he saw a clear line, he took a sprint and found the cesspit behind a block of houses. He tore open the barrels and dumped them in. He paused and then threw some water on it as well, can’t have that stuff blowing. He made the same run five more times, dumping round musket bullets, gunpowder and lint into the cesspit and then dumped a wheelbarrow full of manure on it to hide it. Exhausted he wandered over to a tree and sat down. Night had fallen and the fighting had seized. He sat there and almost fell asleep from exhaustion, but he eventually got cold and dragged himself home. The armour clattered to the floor and Romano stumbled to his bed. He passed Austria’s empty room, the bigger and more luxurious one. For a moment he contemplated sleeping there, but he knew he’d be uncomfortable doing so. He just took the down feather-filled pillows and then went to his simple cot.

The next morning, he dragged himself back to the front line, in armour, to see how the situation was progressing. The highest-ranking soldiers were discussing strategy in rapid German and Romano stifled a yawn. They had already started giving commands for the soldiers to take positions and the fighting to resume when a young Italian mercenary working for the Austrians came sprinting towards them. “Stop! Stop wait! We are all out of ammunition!” Confused murmurs rose through camp. Accusations were thrown left and right, but yesterday had been chaos, everyone had been shooting everything and no one had exactly kept count. After a tense silence they realised there was no way to salvage this, they had to surrender. Romano showed no emotion, even feigned some surprise but oh, his relief was immense. His plan had worked.

Romano removed himself from the command tent and marched himself back into the city centre, sitting on the steps of the Cathedral, waiting. He could see the white flags rising on the watchtowers and there were some very tense minutes of silence before, with an utter cacophony, the Spanish army poured into the streets. They were not killing or plundering to his great relief. Then he saw him, slowly emerging out of the crowds. He saw Antonio before the other saw him. On horseback he rose above everything, first, he could see a glimpse of him and as he approached, he was revealed to Romano like the sun slowly emerging from the clouds and equally radiant. The moment those green eyes locked with his Romano felt his chest contract with a painful surge of emotion. Antonio looked better than he’d seen him look in fifty years, gone was the sickly crumbling empire, and returned to him was that brazen, youthful Achilles. It had been twenty years, yet the moment he saw him it was like the first time again. Every part of him remembered at once his inescapable entanglement with this man: The absence hadn’t removed his shackles; the chain had just gotten longer. Their eyes met and Antonio smiled. Of course, he’d be smiling, he’d won after all, always getting his way, that man.

Romano threw his hair out of his face and looked up at the other with a defiant smirk. He was the first to speak and threw a casual and uninterested sounding greeting at the occupying nation. Anything to hide that he was trembling.

“Ciao, so… what have you been up to? Haven’t seen you around these parts for a while. Was the food bad last time or-”

He couldn’t finish his little charade of uninterested chatter because with a loud clatter of armour Antonio had swung himself off his horse and landed in front of him cutting him off with the sheer noise the metal made. Before he knew it, strong arms pulled him to his feet and into a tight embrace. Romano initially stiffened but slowly allowed himself to ease into it. He would’ve given a lot for this embrace in the past, had it come earlier. Had it come before he had learnt to know better than to have expectations. He tried to draw back because if he stayed there longer he would lose control of his volatile heart but found he couldn’t. The strong arms tightened when he tried, and he found he wasn’t as much embraced as that he was captured. His cheeks flushed red in frustration, instantly recalling that this was the way things were again: Everything was on Antonio’s terms, it was imitated on his terms and it didn’t end until he had gotten what he wanted.

“Mi Nápules, don’t be so cold- I came back for you! I tried before but I wasn’t strong enough yet. I should run into that cathedral behind us right now and thank God on my knees for returning you to me.”

Still, the grasp did not relent. Antonio’s eyes were firmly on the Romanesque cathedral behind Romano’s back as he kept talking.

“Of course, Roderich isn’t completely defeated yet, he’s regrouping in Bari.”

He squeezed harder, possessively, it almost hurt.

“Technically you’re still his territory. I suppose you should still aid him in the next phase of the battle…But I don’t think you want to. Come let’s go pray and go home, your house here! I want to see it!”

And like that it was all decided for him, while he was muzzled, any opinion he’d might want to express muted as his face was pressed into Spain’s shoulder. When he could finally breathe again, blinking against the light of the returning, bright Italian sunlight he was already being pulled along into the cathedral so God himself could seal his fate and seal this reunion.

[imaginepirates]

Norrington x Navy!Reader

Alright, I know I'm totally late to this one, but this is a drabble for @undyingf1delity, who I apparently can't tag. :( Anyway, it's Norrington x a crossdressing reader. He finds her out and all that. Message me if you find mistakes in the text; it's late where I am and I'm tired. Also, I'll fix the formatting later. Sorry you have to scroll through this all.

3100 words

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The deck gleamed under the late morning sun, the light bouncing off and back into your eyes as you tried to work. You strode across the planks to the foremast, taking the rigging in both hands and hauling yourself up. The winds had changed during the early morning, and it was your job to loosen the sails. From your spot in the ropes, you could see far out over the wide expanse of never ending sea that covered the horizon. 

You’d done the job a thousand times. There was nothing special about the job; you’d done it in wind, rain, and storm. You’d only served in the navy a year, though it felt much longer. A mere midshipman, you could run around with bare feet and keep your hair out of the horrible wigs the officers wore. It was easiest to shimmy up masts and rigging without shoes, so without them you went. 

You climbed to the foreroyal yard, wrapping your legs around the mast to keep yourself in place. One of the most frightening places on the ship, the foreroyal yard was one of the highest points on the ship. You loosened the halyard, careful not to let the rope didn’t slip. By loosening the halyard, the sail below you would lengthen, allowing more wind into the sails. The captain wanted to push the ship to a faster speed so you might reach a harbor before nightfall. 

The ship had been sent out hunting for pirates, but there was a need to reload water, and you were to stop at an island not far from where you were. A little cove would provide all the protection needed, and the captain decided it would be a prime place for the crew to get proper sleep. Once within the cove, the ship wouldn’t leave until morning.

Captain Norrington was a young man, but he was as strict a captain as you’d ever had. His ship was the third you’d worked on. No others had been captained by such an unexperienced man. So far, he hadn’t made any mistakes, but there was still time. Everyone onboard was waiting for a good reason to judge him; many of his officers were older than he was, and none felt he deserved the honor of his title. He was new to Jamaica, having come from England.

The crew spoke truly enough behind the poor man’s back.  English waters were different from those of the Caribbean. England didn’t have the hoard of brigands that sailed the tropics; a menagerie of Frenchman, Spaniards, Dutch, and Colonials. Each pirate and crew was different, bringing forth a great challenge for the civilized people of the world.

You scurried down from the top of the mast as the ship pulled alongside the island. It was a lush green mass of swaying trees and ocean foam breaking against the rocks. The entrance to the cove was a gaping archway of rock. It hung suspended in the air like a bridge made for titans. If you had time, you thought of climbing up to it. The cove was well protected from the ocean, surrounded on all sides by sheer cliffs. The opening you passed through was the only place for water to get in and out. 

You were dismayed at the thought of having to climb the cliff across from you for water. Loaded down with barrels, the hike up was sure to be torture. Going down, too, would be a challenge. The combination of gravity and barrels full of water could prove deadly if people weren’t careful. 

You could see your thoughts reflected on the faces of the men around you. Their faces dropped as they beheld the cliff, shoulders drooping. The captain stepped out on deck, ordering men to drop the anchor. The heat, you noticed, wasn’t agreeing with him. There was sweat dripping down the back of his neck, though he made no move to wipe it away, and his heavy coat couldn’t possibly be helping his condition. 

Arthur knocked your shoulder with his. “Staring again?” He whispered in your ear.

“Bugger off.” A flush came to your face, and it wasn’t the sun. 

“Come on, admit it already. You’re head over heels for him.”

It was true that Norrington was attractive, and you weren’t the only one that thought so. The difference was that everyone else who held the opinion was male. 

There were a few others who knew. Arthur had served with you on the Dolphin. The two of you had become fast friends, and had stayed as much ever since. Benjamin had too, and Henry from your time on the Spring Tide. There were others, but they were few. Thankfully, they’d kept their mouths shut for you. 

“Alright, dammit. He cuts a fine figure, but he’s a cold man. I haven’t seen him smile this whole time. Even Captain Ross smiled, and he was a salty old sailor.”

“Right, right.” Arthur knew you were serious, but he liked teasing you. “But you have noticed that he looks back, right?” 

There was a rumor that the captain preferred men, and it had been brought to your attention more than once that he had his eye on you.

“Back to work, gossipers!” A lieutenant snapped. You and Arthur shared a look; there was a reason you called that particular officer the Crab. 

You walked down to the lower decks together. You grabbed a barrel between you and resumed talking. Arthur was still twiggish in his features, with gangly limbs that lacked the strength of other boys his age. His skill in the rigging more than made up for it. You were a bit thankful. Even by the age of sixteen, you hadn’t grown into yourself, and you were the weakest of the lot. It helped to have Arthur around to help you, and it was good to know things went both ways. Neither of you could lift a barrel yourselves. 

“Do you suppose we’ll find natives on this island? I’d hate to be eaten.” He looked behind his feet to see if he was about to step on anything. You’d made him be the one to walk backwards. “Though, I might not mind if it was before coming back down with all the water in these things.”

You snorted. “I don’t think I should like to be eaten at all, heavy barrels or no.”

“Now Harry, don’t lie. We both know hauling these will be the death of us. Didn’t you see how narrow the path was, and how sheer the cliffs?”

Harry was the name you’d taken on when you joined the Navy. You had been from a poor family to start with, and when your parents had passed, you were left with nothing. You had no older siblings to support you. Your best option had been to join the service, though it was hard work, and harder to conceal your identity. 

Sunlight blinded you both as you brought the barrel into the light of day. Already, there were dinghies being dropped into the water and loaded. There was grumbling from the entire deck, but the captain supervised it all with a stern eye, sparing not the slightest pity on his crew. You sometimes wondered if he felt anything at all. 

By the time you got to the base of the trail, the sun was at its height. It looked down on each man without forgiveness. You and Arthur were paired to haul a barrel, and you could see his mouth moving in a silent prayer. 

“We haven’t got all day,” the Crab sneered. 

Arthur bounced his eyebrows. It was a sign that he wanted to make a snappy remark, but knew he shouldn’t. The thought didn’t always stop him, but it did then, and you were thankful. The last thing you needed was for someone to break Arthur’s fingers before the lifting even began. 

The Crab glowered, but strode off to terrorize some other poor souls. Whoever made him an officer deserved a clubbing. 

The way up was hard, but you made it, panting heavily. Sweat had blinded you and stung at your eyes. Even when your shirt had become plastered to your back, you couldn’t have pulled it away, hands glued to the barrel. Things were made even harder by your chest binder. 

Being a girl was far from easy. You’d sewn yourself a sort of corset to wear over your breasts to hold them flat to your chest. It made breathing a bit harder, though you were well used to it. Unfortunately, it felt more constricting when doing anything truly grueling. You wanted to unlace it once you reached the top of the cliff, but you still had to roll the barrel to fresh water, and even after you’d have to escape prying eyes. 

The water wasn’t far. Rolling the damned wooden thing was so much easier than lifting, it felt like you were doing nothing at all. Only a couple hundred feet away was a small lake, and men had jumped in to fill the barrels, though you thought it was more likely that they were eager to cool off. 

Once your job was over, you snuck out into the woods instead of joining the boys in the water. You desperately needed to unlace the front of the corset, and getting wet would only let people see it through your shirt. Alone, you untied the front of your shirt before tugging on the laces underneath. 

You didn’t hear the footsteps behind you. “Midshipman,” a voice called. “I don’t recall excusing you.” There was no mistaking the deep voice. 

You panicked. The captain was standing right behind you, and you didn’t have time to tie up the corset again. “I-I’m sorry, sir,” you faltered. 

“Face me when I address you, boy.” 

You nearly cried out. Your hands had begun to tremble, and you hoped that keeping your shirt together with them would keep Norrington from noticing anything. “Yes, sir,” you croaked. 

Your hopes had been in vain. It took a moment for anything to dawn on the man, but the way the fabric of your shirt draped across your breasts left little to the imagination. A look of alarm and confusion spread across his face, and you feared the worst. 

“Explain the meaning of this, midshipman.” His voice was hoarse, and you could see the way he was forcing himself to look at your face. 

“Sir, I...” 

You were cut off by shouting from the lake. Someone wanted to know what further instructions the captain had. You breathed out a little, hoping he’d respond to their summons. 

“You will explain this in full detail later.”

“Sir.” You nodded. He left you then, and you took the time to hastily tie things back up. 

Things had begun getting dark, and the general consensus was that everyone should stay the night on the island rather than risk the path down in the dark. The men sprawled out in the grass, each making a patch their own. There were few places a sailor couldn’t turn into a bed. You noticed that Norrington had disappeared into the trees for privacy, and wondered whether or not to follow him. 

Just as the thought passed through your brain, the Crab stalked up to you. “It seems the captain wants a word with you,” he hissed. A sickening grin was plastered across his face. He was a sadistic man, and no doubt he wanted to see you punished. 

You got to your feet from where you sat in your own patch of grass and brushed off. Then, you followed the lieutenant into the tree line. Not far in, you found where Norrington had hung up his coat on a tree branch. He sat against its trunk with a small bible in hand, squinting a little to read it. 

He looked up as you walked toward him. “Leave us, Lieutenant,” he instructed. He read another line or two before looking up again. He sighed, got to his feet, and stepped closer. 

Alone, you felt vulnerable. With what he knew, and the fact that he was the stronger of the two of you, he could do as he wished. It wasn’t a thought you wanted to face. 

“Midshipman,” his voice had a certain tightness to it, “Am I correct in assuming that you are in fact a woman?”

You nodded wordlessly. 

“And that such an act is illegal, as well as an insult to the hard working men here in the navy?”

Though the words were like a punch to the gut, his tone didn’t convey any hostility. In fact, it sounded like he didn’t mean his words at all. 

“Yes, sir,” you said meekly. 

“I’ll have to report this and see to a fitting punishment.”

Your head dropped. Your first thought was that you’d have to leave the service, and then you’d have nothing. A tightness grasped at your chest that had nothing to do with your corset. 

Norrington tilted your chin up with a knuckle. “Why are you here, midshipman?” He whispered. 

You stuttered a brief account, trying to get it over with. You could feel the tears that wanted to escape your eyes, and you wanted nothing more than for him to dismiss you. 

He listened in silence, his jaw working with each word. He pinched the bridge of his nose when you finished. “It’s late. We’ll deal with this in the morning.”

You turned about swiftly, but you caught the way his eyes had softened. There was emotion in him after all, but it wasn’t likely to help you much.

Getting the barrels downhill the next day was the most excruciating task of your life. It took four men to each, and you had to lift them all the way down the steep switchbacks. There was grunting and groaning all around. Even getting up the courage to begin took nearly all your energy. The day was hotter than the one before, and there was a general feeling of dread in the air. 

You’d loosened the corset just a little. It wasn’t enough to be noticeable, but it helped you breathe easier. You, Arthur, and two others hoisted a cask full of water, and it sent you staggering sideways. There was no way you could get so much weight safely down the cliff. 

You and Arthur were on the same side, just next to each other. At first, it made for good entertainment and sharing of commentary, but you eventually became too tired to talk. The two of you walked backwards, and you always had the feeling you would go off the cliff. To make matters worse, Norrington was right in front of you. Whenever your foot hit a rock, he steadied you by the shoulders. 

You were about three quarters of the way down, your shoulders were screaming, when one of the boys on the other side of the barrel fell. He’d likely hit a rock, but the transfer of weight was so unexpected that his partner dropped their end. You did, too, and Arther, but he was spritely enough to vault it before it crushed his legs. 

You, however, fell to your knees and tried to support the barrel with your shoulder to stop it from rolling down the hill. Shouts echoed off the cliffs. You were having a terribly small effect against the barrel. One moment, your leg was scraping against rock, and the next, it was suspended in midair. 

Before you could fall to your death, the barrel slowed its rolling. Norrington had his entire weight braced against it. He was on his knees, his shoulder digging into the wood. You rolled back to your feet to help him. For a moment, you were side by side, and your bodies touched from your shoulders to your hips. In an instant, there were men helping. The barrel was promptly picked up again, and you were lifted to your feet by the captain. 

“Thank you,” you breathed. You moved to continue lifting, but a firm hand pulled you back. 

“You’ve nearly just died. Walk with me.” Norrington’s hand felt heavy on your shoulder, but you were more than willing to take up the offer. “Besides,” he said, “you can’t lift when you’re shaking.”

You hadn’t noticed the tremors wracking your limbs. Someone said something about your being in shock. The captain turned you back towards the path, leading you down. He left you upon reaching the bottom. You climbed into a lifeboat, and everyone around began to talk at once, though you understood none of it. Your brain wasn’t focusing, and every time it was, it was looking two boats away to the figure in the deep blue coat. 

When you were finally summoned to Norrington’s cabin, you felt like you could burst. Already, your mind was running through every scenario it could think of. You opened the door cautiously before stepping in. 

“Sit,” said Norrington. You did, and he continued. “I presume you know why I called you here. I’m sorry for doing so on such a taxing day, but I felt that it was better to get things over with.” He stared up at you a moment, and not for the first time did you wonder if you would be hung. 

“I’ve reviewed the situation, and I’ve come to my conclusion.” He was stiff as he spoke. Stiffer than usual. He sighed, his frame collapsing somewhat. “Nothing will be done. You have not directly disobeyed my orders, nor have you shown excessive rowdiness or cruelty. You preform your tasks admirably, midshipman. I have no reason to take action against you.”

You were visibly relieved. 

“You are dismissed, midshipman.”

Half way to the door, you stopped. “Y/N. That’s my name.” When he didn’t respond, you went to leave. Your hand on the doorknob, he spoke. 

“Y/N?” You turned. “I think you’ve heard some rumors.” A blush was creeping up his face from his collar. “There is a bit of truth to them.” He paused, and you held your breath. “I’m glad to know about this. I thought I had started fancying men.” A tight smile adorned his face. 

“Sir, what do you mean to say?”

Instead of answering, he rose. He was tall, and crossed the distance between you in only a few strides before he towered over you. He leaned down slowly, his face hesitating an inch from yours. Then, he planted a soft kiss on your lips, his hand cupping your face. 

Before you could respond in kind, he pulled away. “You should be getting back to work.” 

He dipped his head, but you could still see the flush there. Boldly, you quickly pressed a chaste kiss to his lips. He stared at you then.

 Coming back to himself, he said, “Though perhaps you could join me for dinner?”

The smile didn’t leave your face for the remainder of the day. 

[witch-of-letters]

“An Eternity With You” (Ezio Auditore x Reader)

Vampire and Werewolf AU

Author’s Note: I’m continuing with re-posting my old fics (due to me having changed my blog’s name months ago). This fic was born out of my desire to see Ezio as a vampire (and psst, in my head he still is ‘cause to lose that handsomeness due to ageing...you can finish this thought, lol)

Narrator’s P.O.V.

The so-called ‘war’ between Assassins and Templars has been going on for hundreds, if not thousands, of years now. A lot of blood has been spilt by both sides, and it would continue to be sprayed wherever the two factions would encounter each other in an attempt to make their ideology the dominant one in a chaotic world. Alas, they both shared a secret that if somehow revealed to the unaware people, would start another devastating war between supernatural creatures and humans. No one was ready for such a revelation.

If anyone dug deeper, they would immediately notice that one of the factions consisted of powerful vampires, and the other, of trained werewolves. There exist people, to whom that secret is revealed, though they are few and far between. Usually, only those that are initiated into the Orders are given an option, and not actually forced to accept such a heavy burden. Unfortunately, it’s unknown to the Assassins how the Templars tame their inner beasts. Had anyone told them how it’s done, they would have a huge advantage over their mortal enemy, but no Templar has been willing enough to reveal any of their closely kept secrets. Once someone is initiated into the Brotherhood of Assassins, they are given an option to drink the Blood of the Ancients, as it is called, and become an immortal vampire with seemingly unlimited powers. Many refuse such a gift though, for they think that living a very long life as an ‘undead bloodsucking fiend’ would prove to be full of loneliness and ultimately without giving any closure.

But they are always assured that they can still have families. As miraculous as that sounds, it’s true. Vampires can still procreate, even though their bodies are technically ‘dead’. Children born from such unions are called ‘true vampires’, and those who have only one vampire parent, are born as humans. It is unknown why it is so, only that if it happens, these children become ‘The Untouchables’ - people, whose blood is absolutely useless to the vampires. Their blood does not satisfy the cravings, and it is impossible to turn them into full vampires, only heal them to full health. And unfortunately, you were one of them.

Having been a Master Assassin for over ten years, you didn’t really struggle with keeping up with your vampire brothers and sisters within the Order. You were more than capable of taking down hordes of guards, and full-blooded and older vampires within a blink of an eye, or that’s how people who have seen you in action described your impeccable skills.

You were originally from Spain, a Mediterranean country with a scorching sun shining down on people’s heads, and a wonderful if not a bit spicy cuisine. You weren’t a full Spaniard though…Your mother was from an Italian vampiric family that once lived in Napoli but was destroyed by the Templars in a huge fire. By having ties to both Spain and Italy, you secured yourself a huge and very useful, if not necessary, amount of contacts. This didn’t go unnoticed by the Italian Brotherhood.

Ezio Auditore, a Master Assassin whose whole family consisted of ‘true vampires’, decided to track you down at the urging of both his dear Uncle Mario and the always stoic Niccolo Machiavelli. At first, he was very frustrated because no matter how close he got, you were always one a step ahead of him, and managed to elude his keen senses. But on one beautiful warm day, you ultimately made the decision to hear him out.

He had initially thought that your so-called ‘impeccable skills’ were just a myth made by bards and the like, but once he personally saw you in action, he quickly changed his mind and offered you a place within a still recovering Italian Brotherhood of Assassins. You wanted to accept his offer but had to refuse to join it. You explained to him that even though you worked mostly in Italy, you were still a part of the Spanish Brotherhood, and therefore couldn’t accept the transfer from one country to another without the Grand Mentor’s permission. He seemed disappointed but understood your reasoning.

A few months later, you received a letter telling you to come back home to help The Brotherhood deal with the growing Inquisition’s forces in both Central and Eastern Spain. Without hesitation, you sent that very same letter over to Ezio but not without adding a note, telling him to come there with you. Soon enough, he arrived on a horse to your location and proceeded to inquire from you the details of that mission. You told him that you didn’t have anything else to tell him about it, other than it taking place in Barcelona, your place of birth. During the time you both spent there, you hopelessly fell in love with each other. If one was called forward to describe your love in words, they would say that it was pure and full of empathy. The deep bond between you was indescribable, however, only shown through your passionate kisses, meaningful looks, and comforting embraces.

The mission had gone smoothly, or so you thought…Once you had dealt with the Inquisition’s forces, you were invited to a celebration within the Spanish Assassins’ headquarters near Madrid. Ezio sensed that the invitation was fishy, and so did you but it was necessary to keep up appearances, and so to the party, you went with a stomach full of dread. At first, everything seemed normal and quiet, but once Ricardo, the Head of the Spanish Assassins, lead you into the meeting room, your fellow ‘brothers and sisters’ jumped out from the shadows and proceeded to stab you with sharp daggers and hidden blades. Since the attack was unexpected, you were in shock, and couldn’t call for help. When it was finally over, they left you all alone in the dimly lit room, struggling to move, and whimpering. Blood pooled from both your mouth and the stab wounds. You thought that that was it. You were going to die, betrayed by your once called friends and mentor.

Ezio wasn’t very far when it happened. Having followed you from the shadows, he immediately noticed your sudden disappearance from the party. He proceeded with searching for you, and ten minutes later he started smelling blood in the air - your very distinguishable blood. When he had finally found you in that room, he was shell-shocked by the sight in front of him. You, the love of his life, were lying in a pool of your own blood. He didn’t have the time to ask any questions from you though, he had to save your life. The heart, that was once loudly thumping against your ribcage, was on the verge of stopping completely, and you were starting to see black spots in your vision. Your vampire lover quickly bit into his wrist and placed it in your mouth. Since you were very weak because of the huge blood loss, you struggled to swallow the thick liquid with a metallic taste. Ezio helped you by putting his fingers on your throat and pressing it up and down. Once his wound healed, he picked you up and went back to your place of stay. Swallowing his anger, he decided to stay with you rather than going on a rampage against your betrayers.

When you woke up, you felt that something was wrong. You felt a strange thirst for something, your vision was much much clearer than before, and you felt even more powerful. Letting your eyes roam around the room, you spotted your love sitting in a not-so-comfortable chair staring ahead of himself. Your sudden movement woke him up from his stupor, and he was by your side in a flash, even though to you it seemed like he had just run over to the bed you were lying in. He started explaining to you what had happened two nights before, and once you had heard enough, you stopped him with a hand motion. The only question that was on your mind was: How did you become a vampire?

It was impossible for an ‘untouchable’ like you to become one, even if one wished it to be true. The man before you provided you with an answer that he himself had received from his long-time friend, Leonardo. He said that only if a vampire truly loved someone (and in your case an ‘untouchable’), his blood was potent enough to turn them into a full-blooded vampire with all the powers that come from such a gift. You were shocked, to say the least. Not knowing what to do, Ezio embraced you with all his might, not afraid to hurt you with his strength. You spent a few moments together in such a position.

When you sensed that the sun would soon come up, you stood up from the bed and went towards the curtains that were blocking the daylight from lighting up the room you two were in. Vampires didn’t enjoy walking under the sun, and because of that, Ezio quickly ran to your side and grabbed your arm in an attempt to stop you from opening them. Ignoring him, you pushed the curtains aside and let the sunlight caress your smooth skin like a loving mother would caress her child’s face with her hands. Surprisingly, it didn’t hurt. At all. You both looked at each other in amazement. Unbeknownst to you, Ezio thought that you had become a thousand times more beautiful than you were before. The sunlight illuminated you as it would do to a goddess. You asked him how that was possible, and he explained to you that you were a ‘daywalker’ - a vampire who could walk in a broad daylight without any harm. Putting his arms around your waist, you stayed on the balcony to watch over a beautiful sunrise together, as only a true couple would do. Now you knew, that this was not the end, but only the beginning of something wonderful…

Tagging: @sassenach-on-the-rocks // @iceboundstar // @tarjanisfrye // @assassins-and-hidden-blades // @mavriarch // @one-who-hunts-eagles // @tarjanisfrye // @bangtansugababy // @imagines-of-the-creed // @marshmallow--3 // @ass-sass-sin-o // @lefrenchfrye // @unreadpoppy // @kisstheassassins // @kittitt // @theswordofeden // @storminwomanform // @fanfic-reblog-central // @deejayers // @assassins-n-templars

[anak-ng-heneral-blog]

your soul will not betray

I haven’t written Rusciang in A LONG-ASS TIME but here! 

Fifty one-sentence fics (well, more than one sentence for many of them) for fifty prompts, nicked off and inspired by this Chrom x Avatar fic called honeysuckle memories.

Title is from Don’t Be Afraid by Lee DeWyze, the song I listen to whenever I used to imagine a Rusciang 1890s wedding. 

Finally, have a refresher in case you’ve forgotten my Lunasona, Leriang Sentido. That said, enjoy!

#1 - Ring

Camaraderie was born in their nightly circles around the cookfire after dinner, until they couldn’t tell where one comrade ended and another began.

#2 - Hero

There was nothing grand, or sweeping, or romantic about the entirety of what they went through. What stood out was every small, ordinary, unpleasant moment they endured just for the right to live another day.

#3 - Box

Most people had a box of their favorite expletives. Rusca had a fucking baul.

#4 - View

He exchanges seats at the breakfast table with Jose, so he’s face to face with the new girl who doesn’t laugh at his jokes.

#5 - Strength

“Eduardo Rusca.”

“Leriang Sentido.”

“I know you,” he says, because it’s impossible not to by now. “You’re Rafael Sentido’s sister.”

Something flashes in her eyes, and if he were standing, he thinks he would have stepped backwards. “No, you don’t know me. I’m Leriang Sentido.”

#6 - Ice

“It’s just so rare that someone can resist your charms,” Jose says a week in, clearly enjoying the show.

Rusca is glowering at him. “Well, she’s a rare person, I’ll grant you that.”

#7 - Dance

“Maybe instead of breaking down her walls, you should try to understand why they exist,” Jose had advised him. So he spends today staying out of her way, trying to find vantage points where he can watch her.

By nightfall, she’s the one who’s watching him.

#8 - Promise

“You swear not to tell anyone about this,” Rusca says through gritted teeth, as she squeezes aloe sap onto the sunburn marks on his back.

“I swear,” Leriang says, and he thinks she might be smirking but his neck burns too much for him to turn and check.

It’s the first of many secrets they will keep together.

#9 - Wait

He likes to think he’s quick on his feet. She likes to inform him he’s just rash, and impatient, and por dios, por santo, Rusca, I told you so.

#10 - Candle

He doesn’t mind studying by candlelight, but he tries to read everything he needs before sunset so it takes longer to deplete his stash.

The following night, she runs out of candles.

He discovers he doesn’t mind studying by moonlight.

#11 - Talent

Somewhere in the Academia was a piece of paper detailing the weekly outcomes of the ongoing bet on Rusca and Sentido’s shooting scores.

#12 - Talk

They get to know each other best on the nights they’re on patrol; their feet trace the perimeter, their words map out their souls.

#13 - Dream

“If it weren’t for the war, I’d be a baker,” he confides. “I’d run my father’s panaderia and eat as much as I’d sell. And you?”

“If it weren’t for the war,” she replies, “I would know.”

#14 - Mask

I’m literally wearing somebody else’s face, Rusca thinks with a scowl as he trudges his way to the river.

#15 - Run

He admired the sight of her when she ran, all clean lines and sure steps and braid flying in the wind, but he never fully appreciated the reality of it until she was running to him.

#16 - Storm

They say like called to like, so maybe it was the rushing water of the river that called her tears to the surface, the current of emotion sweeping them both away.

#17 - Farewells

She had been terrified of the idea of her brother dying, which is why she had refused to say goodbye, and later regretted it. Now she’s twice as paranoid, because bidding Rusca goodbye so they would regret nothing if they died meant accepting that was a possibility.

#18 - Fall

He got tossed off his horse’s back when he was a young rider, and he remembered the shock of suddenly being aloft, the thrill of almost believing he could fly, and dreading the bone-crushing thud of the landing he knew would eventually come.

Being in love with Leriang was much the same.

#19 - Wings

If she only allowed it, her heart could probably soar above the mountaintops and leave the misery of the trenches behind—and that is the precise reason why she doesn’t.

#20 - Temptation

Jose is away for the night, and he’s miserably proud of his effort to resist inviting her into their hut.

She undoes it all by coming anyway.

#21 - Midnight

“Mahal kita,” she says after several minutes of silence, testing the words out on her tongue.

He responds with a resounding snore, and she lets out the breath she’s holding.

Maybe that’s just as well.

#22 - World

American, Spaniard, Filipino—they sweated and cried and bled out when they died all the same. To Rusca, it didn’t matter what color your balls were if they didn’t keep you alive in the trenches.

#23 - Laugh

He laughs in the face of death. Some people feel like he’s stupid, he’s annoying, he’s disrespectful, he’s crazy.

“That’s fine with me,” he tells her when she points it out to him. “The important thing is that they no longer feel fear.”

#24 – Cover

They cut through the chaos of their invaded campsite back to back, and though this is the closest to the enemy they have ever been, neither of them are afraid.

#25 - Fire

One moment she was a girl with a long, thick braid, the next she was a human candle with a burning wick.

#26 - Drink

Leriang teases him all the time about his habit of pilfering the heneral’s unfinished drinks; he retorts that maybe military brilliance rubs off on people that way and he’s not taking any chances.

#27 - Music

He’s heard her sing, of course, but he prefers the arpeggio of her laughter.

#28 – Gravity

The first time she met Gregorio del Pilar was also the first time she saw Rusca in that crisp white undershirt she liked so much, and the distinction in how the two images appealed to her was the only reason Del Pilar figured in the memory at all.

#29 - Formal

She imagines him, just the one time, in the white dress uniform Roman and Luna wear to cabinet meetings.

#30 - Eclipse

She slides up his body slowly, slowly, until the crown of her head blots out the sun completely and her lips, wet with his arousal, crash down on his.

#31 - Silk

In her hands, she thinks of him as silk wrapped around steel; in her, he thinks of her as silk enveloping velvet.

#32 - Body

They were never more aware of each other’s anatomy as that time during roll call when they belatedly realized they had accidentally exchanged uniforms.

#33 - Sacred

They are married in naught but their uniforms and flowers picked from the summer fields, bound by the two things they believed most in—duty and hope.

#34 - Forever

“Mahal kita.”

“Mahal kita.”

“Mahal kita.”

“Mahal kita.”

“Mahal kita.”

“Mahal. Kita.”

“Mahal.”

“Kita.”

#35 – Highway

It’s a long ride to Cabanatuan, and already Rusca has finished off three pieces of suman, cussed out the Spanish, led the regiment in a ribald marching song, cussed out the Americans, none too quietly declared that he loved her (no less than seven times), cussed out the Kawit brigade, and made the heneral laugh and Koronel Roman frown disapprovingly and Joven blush and Kumandante Bernal roll his eyes and Jose turn to her and ask what a nabo was.

She loves him, but dear God, can’t they just get there already—

#36 - Red

Red like the sky over Cabanatuan, red like blood, red like the traitors’ clothes.

#37 - Overwhelmed

He could say that he ran out of options, that they outnumbered him, that the wise thing to do was cooperate until he could get away from his captors (all true), but the fact was that he just didn’t know what else to do.

#38 - Silence

About the bodies of Heneral Luna and Koronel Roman, everyone had a story to tell, but as for the whereabouts of Kapitan Rusca, no one could give her an answer.

#39 - Journey

For many nights, Leriang didn’t know whether to wish he had not gone at all or that she had gone and perished with them.

#40 - Hope

Until there’s a body to bury, her hopes refuse to die.

#41 - Whisper

The younger Nable Jose girl is soft-spoken, but she might as well have been shouting the words in Leriang’s face—RUSCA’S ALIVE, RUSCA’S ALIVE, RUSCA’S ALIVE.

#42 - Lock

As the Nable Jose girl fumbles for the key, it hits her like a full chamber of bullets that this door is all that stands between them now.

#43 - Fever

In his delirious haze, this is what he lets slip: “Leriang.”

In his wildest dreams, this is what he doesn’t expect to hear: “Yes?”

#44 – Breathe

Leriang’s heart might as well have stopped beating and Rusca’s ribs are too broken for a full breath, but the moment that their hands touch again is the one where they both return to life.

#45 - Search

They shot Jose in the middle of a busy plaza, with dozens of townspeople milling about under the bright noontime sun.

Huddled close in their unassuming little hut in the middle of the night, she’s sure someone will come for them too.

#46 - Forgotten

There were five candles on the stoop when she wakes on Undas morning.

“Your brother too,” he explains.

#47 - Lies

By chance, they see Aguinaldo one last time before the country falls to America.

In the thick of the crowd they grip each other’s hand tightly, both holding the other back from putting a bullet through the president’s false heart.

#48 – Unknown

“What will you do now? He asks one evening as she carries in the last of their wares. The smell of the bread he made himself comforts him after years of being followed by the stench of death.

He knows though, that the absence of it disorients her. “I suppose we’ll find out.”

#49 - Cold

“Cold,” Rusca would tell the man who had come asking him what Pangasinan had been like decades later, remembering the hard stone floor beneath his knees and the steel shackles around his wrists as he prayed for daylight.

#50 - Memory

She urges him to do the interview. “So the whole world can remember,” she reasons. “And we can finally forget.”