justplummy
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Not because it was good. Not because it made you cry. Because it made you believe.
Details in the tags.Bookmarked by justplummy
14 May 2026
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"Tell me every terrible thing you ever did, and let me love you anyway."
It had been years. He was supposed to be dead— and in every official sense, he was. Buried under a new callsign and a carefully constructed identity, he had become someone else entirely. So of course you didn't recognise him. Not as the lieutenant you couldn't stand. Not as the man you had once lost.
But Ghost recognised you instantly.
The moment you stepped into the room, it hit him-sharp, disorienting, impossible to ignore. And yet, he said nothing. Did nothing. Because acknowledging you, even for a second, would unravel everything he'd spent years holding together.
Pretending you meant nothing now; that was going to be the hardest mission he'd faced since the day he left you behind.
Bookmarked by justplummy
14 May 2026
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Nobody told you touching Simon Riley was against the rules.
They probably should have.
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30 Apr 2026
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The mission is simple: keep watch, stay alert, be professional. But in the dead heat of Al Mazrah, professionalism lasts about as long as the night does.
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12 Feb 2026
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The Golden Prince left you at the altar. Now you belong to his brother.
Simon Riley—the Ghost of the North, the man who has never lost a battle—takes you as his bride to save a dying alliance. Not because he wants you. Because this is what must be done—for the sake of both kingdoms, for the fragile peace neither side can afford to lose.
He looks at you and sees the enemy. Your father’s name is written in northern blood.
And now you stand in his hall, soft and lovely and utterly out of place—a southern bride draped in silk, a political offering in the house of a man who has every reason to hate you. He is certain you are a trap. That your kindness is practiced. That your innocence is only another weapon dressed in white.
But certainty is a fragile thing.
Because Simon watches too closely. Because every silence between you feels sharpened at the edges. Because in a marriage built on old wounds and older ghosts, even the gentlest touch can begin to feel like a threat.
Now you are bound to a man who does not trust you, trapped in a court that does not want you, and learning far too quickly that peace can be just as dangerous as war.
In the North, love is not a gift.
It is something far more ruinous.Bookmarked by justplummy
11 Feb 2026