#“pray tell me why you kept begging for you mother to bring me back them” “big mistake” CAN ANYONE HEAR ME? HELLO? I LOVE THEM

[swifty-fox]

yo you post your fics on AO3? if so please share your user babe

omg yes I do! you can check my swiftywrites tag but

Masters of the Air:

Kingdom for a Kiss - WIP (34k written, 19k Posted) Long-form Postwar exploration of Clegan's relationship and their trauma. Updates weeky. Mature rating will be bumped to Explicit later

“I wasn’t the one all but begging to be shot by the guards for months on end there Bucky.” Buck shakes his head, laughing sharply. His anger was a living thing now and he aches with it “Nah, nah, not me. No, I was the one dragging your crazy ass back from the brink time and time again. Trying to convince those fucking Germans your sorry carcass was of more use alive than dead, trying to keep the men busy and motivated while you fucked about. You're welcome by the way.” He jabs a finger in John's direction, who stares at him taken aback. “So’s I don’t see much of a reason why I should let you come up into my home and cast your judgments around.”

Bucks chest heaves, great gulps of air like he’s once again racing through snow-covered German trees. He can tell he’s shocked John into silence, the other man's eyes darting back and forth. Buck averts his gaze, brushing his hair back from his face. That’s twice now he’s lost himself at the people he cares about. Twice now he’s bitten a hand reached out in kindness.

Gale takes a deep breath to compose himself, tucks the jagged angry edges of himself back to face inwards. “You said you would write.”

Little Beast: Ongoing. Porn with a bit of Plot modern au of Burnout John and Priest Gale. 9k of them fucking and arguing. p2 is in the drafts and will be part of a series of stories. NSFW to the max

“It’s such a shame you’re cooped up in here like Rapunzel there Buck.” John drawls lazily. He makes a show of looking around “Is Mother Gothel nearby?” 

Buck has to fight back against another smile, wouldn't give him the satisfaction or the encouragement “Father Huglin is away at a conference today.”

“All alone without a chaperone.” 

press your tired hands against my lips darling: Finished. 3K word re-write of the Bucks final conversation in the cockpit. Loose prequel to KfaK but with some minor inaccuracies Mostly SFW

Gale takes John's hand, brings the scarred knuckles to his mouth and holds it there, turns their hands over til he can place his lips to the pulse point at John’s wrist. It’s not a kiss, there’s no press or pursing of lips, but tender nevertheless, intimate in a way that makes Gale shudder. Cautious of whether John will even allow this.  

“I ain’t prayed in a long time,” Gale says whisper-soft. He feels John’s pulse skip a beat, “but I prayed every day you were safe and alive and coming back to me. Every morning, and every night.”  He lets himself cry again, tears hidden against the scarred skin of John's hand. 

The Old Guard:

in another life maybe you and i would be walking down an aisle in white: Finished Joe/Nicky (18K) Art Professor Joe & Art Conservator Nicky reconnect after ten years. This one is uh. Sad. Mind the tags. It's an incredibly personal piece to me and probably one of my favorites .NSFW

Dear Joe, you have always been the brave one and I wished every moment for even a drop of that. Perhaps that is why I claimed you as mine, out of a desperate need to have even an ounce of what made you, you. I desired you but I would not, could not ever let you in. I loved you and kept you and hurt you, keelhauled you against the impenetrable ship that was my heart and when the ragged pieces were left behind I still asked of you your silence.  

It is no wonder our love was left in bloody tatters on that lawn. 

Make me a Saint: Finished (8k) Nicky and Nile mete out some justice to a corrupt priest. NSFW for violence. Mind the tags. As of right now, my most popular fic

“ I was a priest before your bible was even written old man ” Nickys voice thunders in the tiny room, crackling over the walls like fire. Even Nile flinches at the sudden volume. He takes another step forwards, bracketing Father Marcus’ arthritic twisted feet with his own.

His voice does not shake.

“I preached the word of God before your language was even invented . I have known the church for longer than you can comprehend. I have seen great men and evil men take up the word of the Lord and I have seen them all rendered dust. I have seen you and I have judged you, Father Marcus. The Church may practice restraint but I do not. The diocese may have turned a blind eye I but I do not. The courts may have found you innocent but I do not . 

Calcification of a God: Finished (4K) Nicky has a lil Menty B and then Joe gives him a bath. Mostly SFW if I recall correctly

“I think,” Nicky says “If I were God, it was you I modeled humanity after. I think if I were God I would have left my throne in heaven to walk beside you and I would have been richer for it”

Yusuf chuckles “Death makes you sentimental my darling.”

Wolfstar:

Oh Captain, My Captain!: Finished, 1.6k Drabble of Wolfstar cuddling and reciting poetry. SFW

He cups the back of Remus’s head, presses him further into the safety of his body with a hand on his mismatched, misaligned rib cage and rocks them slightly. Remus grunts slightly. Sirius hides the teeth of his smile against the follow of his own neck and allows the curtain of his hair to cover them both for a moment. He listens to the two of them breath, always slightly out of sync, out of rhythm. Remus quick and labored, Sirius racing to catch up only to find himself charging ahead only to drop back behind when he tries to slow down. 

“ If I vibrate with vibrations other than yours, must you conclude that my flesh is insensitive ” That doesn’t fit quite right, so he tries another, brow furrowed and fingers tracing the knobs of Remus’ spine like the knots on a tree, with reverence and a little hint of greed. 

#swiftytalks #swiftywrites #my fics #wolfstar #clegan #joe x nicky #the old guard #masters of the air #just thought i would take this chance to compile all the links

[ffxivtribehydrae]

#5 Barbarous

For FFxIvWrite2023 Characters: Khan and children of Hydrae

Crackling flames cast shadows across the forest floor, dancing creatures reenacting a journey from a time long ago. Among furs, intricate carpets and decorated pillows sat children of a variety of ages, listening in on the words of the tribe’s first Khan, clinging to whatever within reach in fright but wide, curious eyes urged for the tales to continue.

“Escaping the creatures of the wild, I thought I had overcome my journey’s challenges! But little did I know… The scariest was yet to come!”

Around the iloh the rest of the tribe enjoyed the evening dinner, half listening to the story or chatting among one another. Story telling was popular among the children, especially now that there were so many of them. The youngest, Dusk, having just seen his fourth winter.

“Unlike the welcoming Qestir, humble Uyagir, or wise Malqir whom I met along my way, reaching the eastern territories of the Azim Steppe showed me how our own kin could just as well be as brutal as any wild beast!”

“Do they looked like beasts too, Bolgue!?” Dusk chirped in his question to his uncle, it was a miracle he was sitting still to listen, but Auro’usk clung to his arm with such strong anxiety to the tale that he kept the youngest in place.

The storyteller didn’t miss a beat, “Why, at first glance of course they do not! They look just like us, but their minds are dirty with greed, souls stained by blood of their brothers and sisters, and bodies marred by unrighteous fighting!” Bolgue would never once cease his enthusiastic motioning hands, despite bowl of food in one hand threatening to be wasted with every move. “And it was while I wandered the early morning, Nhaama’s watchful light having gone to rest, when a tribe found me all alone. I thought I would be welcomed as warmly as before, but no!”

As the story met a dramatic pause the children murmured and begged for the story to continue, to be taught about the world beyond their safe haven that was the borderland’s forests and mountains.

“It was the Kharlu, I learned, and they brought me to their camp, a massive gathering of poor souls who lost their homes in blood to their ranks! And they lived for the war, as though the lands of the Steppe belonged to them and not its people- prepared to battle with the similarly minded Jhungid with borrowed power…”

Again the children gasped in anticipation and whined for the conclusion of the story. Was their Khan forced to fight? How did he manage to get back home? Did he get scars? What other tribes did he encounter?

The shower of questions met no answers; those were stories for another day.

“Although it was some terrible suns spent under strict rules of this lowly tribe, I was assigned as belonging to the Kharlu against my will! But there was a woman of the Bolir- merchants like us, frail but determined to survive, to flee, and to live the life she chose… We conspired… We plotted and planned and endured the wicked ways of this massive tribe. Until the sun rose on the day of the battle- we fled in the chaos! And watched the savages from afar, prayed for the involuntary warriors, and thanked Nhaama our plan succeeded, that we were blessed to pick our own fate. Dorgene then followed me home; she chose our peaceful living were she was free to practice her trade away from the cruelty of the Azim Steppe.”

The happy ending brought smiles and excitement to the gathering, Bolgue’s children cheering a little louder as they recognized the name of their mother.

“And one day, all of you will also face the dangers of the outside world,” he suddenly spoke in a more serious tone, bringing the youngsters to a silence as they listened with worry about what he was about to share, “When that day comes, remember to always be wary, there are those of our kin who wants nothing more than to harm others, out of greed, or lesser purposes. Remember this well.”

In chorus the children nodded, hummed, and promised to remember their Khan’s lesson. Some were frightened about their time to come; others were excited about the day they’d be set free into the world.

And very few would go further beyond expectations, for better or for worse.

#ffxivwrite2023 #Story Time! #about story time #Dusk Hydrae #Auro'usk Hydrae #for being mentioned #but this is way more just a general tribe story #Hydrae talking shit about other tribes isn't unusual #especially warring and battle happy tribes

[komotionlessqueenmm]

Imagine # 847

Gif NOT mine. (Tumblrs crediting me, but it isn't mine. Click my name at the bottom of the gif and you'll understand.)

If this gif is yours (or you know who's it is) please let me know, so I can give you/them credit.

Gif credit goes to - Unknown.

Year posted - 2021

----

"Get back here (Y/n)." Perseus huffed at his daughter, who was in the midst of storming out of their little house. "(Y/n)!" He shouted her name when she ignored him, sighing to himself when she mounted her horse and left. "That girl." He grumbled under his breath, rubbing his temples with frustration. "Father?" Helios approached his father, who smiled down at him. "Come on Helios, let's go back to dinner." Perseus rest his hand on his son's shoulder, unaware of (Y/n) watching him from a distance, a bitter scowl on her face. "He will always favor Helios." She hissed before ushering her horse on, journeying out into the world, to her sanctuary.

Upon arriving at her destination, (Y/n) dismounted her horse, leading him to a small nearby stream. "Stay here Ajax." She muttered as she pet his mane, knowing he'd stay regardless of if she commanded it or not. Afterwards she turned her attention to the narrow crevice in the cliff, the entrance to a complex system of tunnels and caves, one she knew all to well. She entered the system and began her journey to the central cave, the place she built into a second home for herself, and shrine to the Gods.

Shrugging off her bag she knelt before the next statue lining the far wall, praying to one God at a time for several years, hoping one day one of them would send her a sign that they were listening to her. "Great Ares God of war... Uncle." She bowed her head, in respect. "Show me a sign that you hear my prayers, and gift me with the strength to endure my father, and the neglect." (Y/n)'s eyes glossed over as she thought about her last encounter with her father, raising her head she looked to the statue of her uncle. "Help me quell the war within my heart." She begged before rising from her spot, she reached for her bag, and left an offering at Ares feet.

She froze upon the sound of wind whipping behind her, a new presence entering the cave, their curious eyes upon her. "You pray to me." Ares stated with a small tilt of his head, having been unaware of her existence as his niece, until she called out to him. "Yes." (Y/n) nodded her head, keeping her back to him. "Why?" He asked as he observed the room. "I have prayed to the Gods for many years, one at a time, and you were the next in line." She pointed to the statues before her, finally turning to face him, unable to look him in the eyes. "Why do you pray?" He asked with genuine curiosity. "I have no one else... The God's have been abandoned by humans, and I know what it's like to be abandoned, and so I looked for comfort with the Gods... But no one has ever answered until now." She spoke softly, though Ares could hear her plain and clear.

"Why don't you look me in the eyes?" Ares asked as he peered down at his niece, who kept her head bowed down, casting her eyes to the dirt covered floor. "I don't want you to see the damage inside them." She murmured softly, her words striking something within Ares's heart. "Look at me dear niece." He spoke softly as he tilted her head back, looking into her eyes finally, and seeing a familiar pain within them. "You are the daughter of Perseus." He stated. "I am." She muttered as her eyes glossed subtlety. "Tell me what you know of abandonment." Ares all but demanded, releasing his hold on her jaw, following her as she moved to sit at a small table. "When my brother was born, our mother died in childbirth... And ever since then, I have been forgotten by my father, in favor of Helios." She held her head up a bit higher, her anger bubbling back up again.

"It's been years and nothing has changed, well not for the better atleast. I've been neglected for so long, forgotten in favor of his precious son. When Helios turned two, I gave up on the prospect of earning my father's love back. I ran away for a short time, I found this place, and over the years built my shrine, and began praying to the Gods. Hoping that one day one of you would show me a sign that I'm not alone, that you're listening. It's all I've ever wanted." (Y/n) picked at a bit of the table that was splintering away. "I run away from home often, and I come here. I fought with my father again today, and I came here. He didn't even try coming after me, he never has..." She spoke quietly, unaware of how Ares's anger with Perseus only grew. "What is your name?" Ares asked gently. "(Y/n)." She smiled softly at him, chuckling at the curious look on his face. "It's a strange name I know, I was named after my wet nurse, and she was from a far way land." (Y/n) explained with a smile, her explanation making Ares smile as well.

"It's a lovely name." He complimented genuinely, grasping her smaller hand in his. "Come with me (Y/n), back to Olympus, where I will care for you as if you were my own." Ares offered with a smile, which widened a little at the sight of her excitement. "Really!?" She gasped as she sat up straighter. "Yes." He squeezed her hand softly, a laugh erupting from his chest when she practically dove into his chest, hugging him as if her life depended on it. "Please uncle please take me away from here." She pleaded with tears rolling down her cheeks. "Is there anything you want to take with you?" Ares asked as she released her hold on him, allowing him to stand to his full height. "Ajax." (Y/n) responded without hesitation. "Who is Ajax?" Ares asked as (Y/n) began leading him out of the cave system. "My horse, he was the last gift my mother gave me before she died." (Y/n) explained, pointing to the stallion in question when they exited the cave. "Very well." Ares smiled before transporting them all to Olympus.

---A month later---

Again his search was in vain, he could find no sign of (Y/n), or even Ajax. With a defeated sigh he cast his eyes to the horizon, unable to bring himself back home to Helios empty handed again. "Father I need your guidance." Perseus muttered plainly, afraid he'd never find her on his own. "What is it my son?" Zeus asked as he appeared behind Perseus. "It's (Y/n)... She's been missing for a month, and I cannot find any trace of her. I need your help." Perseus explained, frowning when Zeus smiled. "We will find her, come with me." Zeus offered Perseus his hand, transporting him to the Grey Sisters. Perseus scowled at the sight of them once more, though he stepped forward as Zeus encouraged. "Ah Perseus comes back to us." One of the sisters pointed out as she held the eye, shrinking back when she noticed Zeus behind him. "And he brought Zeus with him." She hissed, the other sisters shrinking back upon hearing her words.

"I need you to tell me where my daughter is." Perseus demanded, the sisters giggling simultaneously. "The daughter of Perseus wants nothing to due with him anymore, she has found a new father to take his place." The sister with the eye snickered sinisterly. "What is that supposed to mean?" Perseus growled in anger. "You neglected her for to long young Perseus, she turned her back on you the way you did to her. Your brother Ares took your place, and took her to Olympus to care for as his own." The sisters laughed again, only further angering Perseus, who turned that anger to his father. "You knew." He accused, despite the confusion in Zeus's eyes. "I knew nothing of this." Zeus argued, whisking himself and Perseus back to Olympus. When they reached Olympus they barged into Ares's hall, to find him laughing as he taught (Y/n) how to fight with a sword. "(Y/n)!" Perseus exclaimed as he rushed to her side, freezing in his tracks when Ares stepped between them, shielding (Y/n). "Get away from her." Perseus hissed at his brother, who only smiled at him. "I was going to say the same thing to you." Ares taunted only angering Perseus more.

"(Y/n) come here." Perseus demanded as he glared at his brother. "No." (Y/n) shook her head, sheathing the sword Ares had gifted her with, she moved to stand beside her Uncle. "What?" Perseus frowned at her. "I'm staying here with Ares, you can go back home. Be with your favorite child, and leave me here with my chosen father." (Y/n) hissed at Perseus who bowed his head in shame, knowing well how wrong he had treated her. "You are my daughter." Perseus muttered as he looked to her with sad eyes. "I haven't been your daughter in a long time." She turned her back on him, walking away. "She'll be safer here." Ares mused casually, glaring at his father before looking to Perseus. "She's already happier." He added making Perseus feel even worse. "If you're truly happy here (Y/n)." Perseus began, drawing (Y/n)'s attended to him. "Then I will leave you be, but know we'll always be waiting for you to return to us." He promised, though his words held no weight to her. "You'll be waiting in vain Perseus." She stated emotionlessly, the use of his name stinging to Perseus.

Perseus left the hall and waited for Zeus to join him, shameful tears welling in his eyes, for having pushed his only daughter away so much, that she turned her back on him. "How long were you planning on hiding her from me?" Zeus asked Ares who placed a comforting hand onto (Y/n)'s shoulder. "I wasn't hiding her, you just never noticed." Ares retorted before turning his attention solely to (Y/n), the daughter he never knew he wanted. "I am sorry Perseus." Zeus tried as he exited the hall, feeling sorry for his son. "Just take me back home, Helios needs me." Perseus wiped away the tears within his eyes, turning to Zeus with a hard face, trying to bury the pain he was feeling. "Very well." Zeus nodded before sending Perseus back with the wave of his hand. A sigh escaping the old Gods throat, while laughter and swords clashing together could be heard from within Ares's hall.

#imagine #gif imagine #extended #Ares #Ares imagine #Ares x reader #ares greek god #ares god of war #ares greek mythology #wrath of the titans #Wrath of the titans imagine #wrath of the titans x reader #Zeus #perseus #edgar ramirez #Edgar Ramirez imagine #greek gods #Greek gods imagine #greek mythology #Greek mythology imagine #Greek god of war #platonic #platonic reader #platonic relationship

[vermillionflames]

Wedding Night

Gaara x Female Y/N

Word Count: 2,244

Warnings: arranged marriage, virgin sex, oral sex, unedited smut

I was nervous. My heart had been racing all day thanks to my wedding day anxiety, and the unsolicited advice from literally every single woman attending did not help. Neither did my father’s look of sympathy as he gave me away. My heart, having beat so fast it ran out of fuel, had dropped to the pit of my stomach the second we got into the carriage to take us to our home. This was the first time I was truly alone with my now husband, and it was dead silent. I was convinced he had fallen asleep with his eyes open, bored out of his mind, while my mind was reeling with all the scenarios that could happen.

The Kazekage was many things, but not a charmer. That much I was certain.

The carriage stopped and a guard opened the door. Not acknowledging me, again, Gaara got out first. A second guard presented his hand to help me exit as he continued towards the door. Lovely.

The house was massive, and right in the middle of the village. My face became hot realizing how easy everyone had access to it. Not only did it seem unsafe, the lack of privacy was a waving red flag.

Then I noticed his siblings standing in the door frame. We would have witnesses to our consummation.

I tried not to dwell as I followed Gaara inside.

His siblings vanished from the porch and then the door shut with the wind.

“We have the place to ourselves tonight,” he spoke in a low, monotone voice, “They reside here as well and will be back tomorrow afternoon. Hopefully they don’t bother you the same way they bother me.”

“Was that… a joke,” I tried to crack a smile but I was so anxious it didn’t translate through my face.

For the first time all day he really looked at me. The silence was heavy. My shoulders slouched and my face dropped after a few moments, he was disappointed with his bride.

“Come,” he turned around and started up the flight of stairs, “I’ll show you to our room.”

Not having separate rooms detracted half the advice I had been given early, but I was glad I wouldn’t have to deal with being alone when I went to sleep my first nights in a new home.

Gaara opened a door on the second floor and led me inside. The room was nothing special. A king size bed in the middle of the left wall, wearing deep blue sheets. Across were two armoire closets, made of cherrywood, and a door that seemingly led to a bathroom. It was bare, unlived in.

I turned to look at him by my side.

“I don’t have much skill when it comes to decoration,” Gaara said, meeting my eyes, “You can change everything to suit your liking.”

“O-okay,” I answered.

We stood there in silence, staring at each other, yet again.

My face got red as I realized it was about to happen.

“Um,” I stuttered, “Shouldn’t the sheets be white,” I looked down at my feet, embarrassed.

“If you want white sheets we can have them delivered in the morning,” he replied.

My brows furrowed in confusion, “I mean, like, for the blood.”

“What blood,” he asked, stepping closer he grabbed my hand and lifted my arm, “Are you injured?”

“No,” my heart shot up from my gut to my throat, “For the consummation,” I spoke too loudly for my liking. He placed my arm back down at my side.

“You are…,” he looked at me, “A virgin?”

I wanted to crawl into myself and die.

“Yes,” I whispered.

“That is good to know,” he walked towards the bathroom door, “I was hoping we could wait. I know everyone wants you swollen with my child by tomorrow, but,” he opened the door, “I think it best we get to know each other a little more. Your clothes should have been put in the closet on the right, I’ll be in here until you're changed into your pajamas.”

I was relieved at his idea to wait, though part of me just wanted to rip it off like a bandage. Then I got sick again knowing that I have never owned pajamas in my life… and that I sleep naked. I stalked to the closet, hoping there would be something that resembled sleepwear or that my mother had packed my belongings and threw me a bone. Inside all I found were tiny lace pieces and short satin dresses. Obviously, my ninja gear had been omitted from the move since I was no longer allowed to be in active duty, but nothing besides lingerie was inside the closet.

I threw open the single drawer at the bottom, praying for a miracle. It too had nothing but sexy underwear, and I wanted to faint when I saw leather straps. Who did this?! My shock made me lose my grip on the drawer and it fell onto the ground with a loud crash.

“Y/N? Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” I answered too quickly and too loud.

What was I going to do? I couldn’t sleep in my wedding robe. I looked at all the dresses, concluding they revealed too much for a sexless night.

“There’s, um, there’s no pajamas in my closet,” I called to him. The door unlatched and opened as Gaara walked to me.

“I’m sure they just hid it from yo…” he trailed off taking in the mess on the floor, “There has to be something here.”

Gaara picked up a black strap off the floor, “What even is this,” he asked, tossing it aside. “Is this supposed to make me horny,” he picked up a tiny, lace thong, “My sister must have gotten your size wrong.”

I spit out an embarrassed laugh.

Eyes narrowed, he shuffled through the mess on the floor. “Why is there nothing but underwear in this whole closet?!”

“Can I just wear something of yours,” I asked.

His face softened, “Of course. What’s mine, is yours.”

His closet was full of clothes and pajamas, so I had plenty of options. He handed me a large black t-shirt and red drawstring pants. I nodded in thanks.

Gaara went back to the bathroom while I changed. I threw the shirt over my bare chest, swimming in its size. Then began the mental debate of panties. The ones I had worn with my wedding robes had meant to suck me in and were too tight for sleep, so I removed them. I picked up the pait Gaara had thrown aside earlier and put them on, not wanting to be bare underneath his pants. His pajamas were too big for me, but they were comfortable and warm.

“I’m done,” I called as I climbed into the bed. Gaara emerged from the bathroom, having also changed into pajamas, which matched mine. He flicked his wrists and the lights went out. I felt him climb into the bed next to me and settle. The quiet lulled me to sleep, where I dreamt of my husband touching my body.

Something in the night startled me awake. I ripped my eyes open, seeing the bare wall. In my sleep I had turned onto my side, my back facing Gaara… only... He had also turned onto his side and had his arms wrapped around me. His hand had wandered up my shirt and was now resting under my breast.

I squirmed to try and move myself, but he only tightened his hold around me. Panicking, I grabbed his arm and pulled it down, forgetting how strong I was. His shoulder popped and I felt him wake up. His hand remained too close to my boob, which he noticed. He flipped himself over mumbling an apology.

“Wait, Gaara,” I turned, poking his shoulder.

“Hmmm,” he grumbled, half asleep.

“I want to,” I blurted out. I blushed at my confession, but honesty was the best policy.

“Want to what,” he asked, turning onto his back.

“I want to consummate our marriage,” I whispered, regretting how I worded it.

Silence was my answer.

“Um, nevermind,” I moved to lay back down but Gaara sat up and grabbed my face, bringing me in for a kiss. His lips were soft and warm, the kiss was nothing like the one we shared during our ceremony. My body tingled in response. I whimpered when he pulled away, wanting more.

“Are you sure,” he asked, holding my face in his hand.

“Yes,” I whispered.

“We’ll go slow,” he promised before kissing me again. His tongue licked my lips asking for entry. I parted, not really knowing what to do. I just knew I wanted him as close to me as possible.

Gaara laid me onto my back, continuing the kiss. He paused to look at me, I fidgeted under his eye. He smiled, genuinely smiled at me, before continuing the kiss. He sucked on my bottom lip, a feeling I won’t soon forget, before trailing kisses down my jaw and neck. His fingers played with the hem of my shirt, his shirt. Tickling my stomach and hips before pushing the fabric upwards.

“I want to keep it on,” I gasped, not ready to be fully naked in front of him, despite the lack of light.

“Okay, Y/N, but anything you keep on, I get to keep on and we can’t make love unless we take off our pants.”

His choice of words shocked me. Make love? We hardly knew each other. Still, I nodded in agreement.

His hands moved to the waistband of the pants I was wearing and slowly pulled them down. He cocked his head to the side, recognizing the thong from earlier.

“I guess Temari did get your size right,” he winked.

I took a deep breath as his fingers looped around that waistband and pulled down. The most private part of me was now bare to him.

“If you want to stop at any point, please tell me. You can shove me to the floor if you want,” he waited for me to acknowledge him before continuing. I didn’t trust my voice so I nodded.

One second he was staring at me, the next his head had fallen to my core. I soon realized what he was doing. His tongue licked up my folds, making my yelp. I had touched myself before, but my fingers never felt like this. I felt him smile with pride as his licks made me squirm and gasp. I kept my hands at my side, gripping the sheets. The pleasure increased when Gaara wrapped his mouth around my clit and lightly sucked, continuing the tongue laps. The bed beneath was soaked from how wet I was.

On instinct, my hands went to his hair and pulled him closer to me as I begged for more. My embarrassment and anxiety from earlier had vanished due to my lack of need for his touch. I didn’t want him to stop, and I told him that too.

I felt one of his fingers enter me, making my volume increase. He pumped his finger before releasing my clit from his mouth.

He looked up at me from his position at my hips, our eyes met and my body came undone.

“Do you still want to,” he stood at the side of the bed when my orgasm stopped rippling through me.

“Yes,” my voice was so heavy with desire I didn’t recognize it.

“Shirts still on?”

I blushed but nodded.

“Okay,” I watched Gaara remove his pants, revealing a long, hard cock. My body hummed in excitement as he climbed back on top of me.

“Y/N,” Gaara grabbed my face with one had, forcing my concentration on his eyes and not his member, “Remember what I said about stopping me?”

“Yes,” I answered too quickly.

He smiled, “Good, now look at me.”

I kept eye contact as he entered me. My face slowly shifted into one of discomfort as more went inside. It wasn’t painful like I had been warned, but it was a new sensation that was extremely uncomfortable.

Gaara groaned when he was fully sheathed. He didn’t move his hips, opting to kiss my cheeks while I got used to his size.

“Please,” I finally asked, “Give me everything.”

Gaara growled in approval before moving his hips backward, slowly he thrust in and out of me. I moaned, moving my hands to grab his back and hold him to me. He took my expression and noises as cues. Once I had gotten louder, and wetter, and quickened his pace, causing me to scratch down his back.

“More,” I begged, and he laughed.

“Tonight, this is as much as you get. I don’t want you to be too sore,” he angled himself to hit a particularly pleasurable spot and I cried out.

We were both sweating, moaning messes when I felt my orgasm approach. Gaara must have felt it too because he quickened his pace enough to meet me. We came together, which is something the old hags told me would not happen. Gaara laid on top of me for some time before flopping over.

“Are you alright, Y/N?”

“Yes,” I was still catching my breath, “That was so much better than what I was told would happen.”

“Oh?” Gaara sat up, massaging circles into my tummy, “Just wait until we become more accustomed to each other’s bodies.”

#gaara scenario #gaara fanfic #gaara x oc #gaara fanfiction #gaara x y/n #gaara x reader #naruto x reader #gaara oneshot #sabaku no gaara #gaara of the sand #suna no gaara #gaaraxoc #gaara headcanons #kazekage gaara

[darkdevasofdestruction]

An Angel and A Demon ~ Pyramid Head x Reader

Update 2: My laptop restarted when I was in the middle of writing this, and trust me when I say it, I am positively pissed off, and I want to end my days, that's how bad of a day this was.

And I didn't leave the house.

That says a lot about today...

Update 1: But, without further ado, I was half-way writing this story, and I received this ask, and let me tell you...

helloooo, i absolutely adored the fanfics you wrote about kazan and danny🥺 could i request one where pyramid head is just really whipped for and in love with the survivor! reader but he doesnt know how to announce it to them so he brings her random ,,gifts" in and outside the trials and protecting her bc well, im pretty sure he cant speak so he doesnt really have any other options on how to express his feelings??

I live for it.

Bless you for sending me this, it's the reason I'm still sane right now.

I love you, baby-cakes.

Update 3: I want to kill myself so bad. Just smash my head on a wall until it explodes or sth. I was so happy with how this imagine turned out, only fuck fucking tumblr to just fucking delete EVERYTHING just as I was about to put the last gif and hit POST NOW.

--------

For the 5th time writing this :

FUCKMEDADDY - but this time - FUCKMYBRAINSOUTPLEASEIWANNADIE

Thanks.

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Hell - What was that place, anyway?

Some would describe it as an infinite ocean of flames and lava, where it's eternally melting-hot, and a bunch of hooved, horned, tailed red demons torture you with acid, with their red pitch forks, or boil you alive in their cauldron for soup. Or maybe you just get tortured by Stalin, who knows?

But never would have anyone thought that 'Hell' could look so...Normal. Well, normal in a very demolished, desolate, ravished way, but still...Normal, by human standards. Albeit, the never-ending loop of madness, anguish, agony and desperation of getting killed in different gruesome ways or fleeing for their lives and feeling a myriad of emotions pumping adrenaline through their veins so badly that their anxiety-meter skyrocketed to abnormal levels.

All this darkness, this hatred, this...Everything...It changed all the survivors. They became selfish, stubborn, rude, some even went as far as to sacrifice their fellow survivors in trials, just so they could survive. It was a complete mayhem that defied all kinds of reason, normality, morality or even ethics. Everyone became devoid of any laws that used to bind them to their humane sides, and now, you weren't sure if the killers were saner than the survivors or not.

But even in this abyss where you couldn't even see your hand in front of your very eyes, there was a little star - A beautiful angel radiating brightness and warmth, someone who was somehow able to guide everyone's straying souls with her benevolence.

In reality, she was merely a survivor, not the little lantern from an angler fish's head, but she treated everyone with such an untainted kindness...It was beautiful, and yet, unrequited for most parts. Everyone was still putting their own lives above all - And who could condemn them? - Perhaps their cowardice, for the girl preferred to save her fellow survivors as much as possible, even if that oftentimes assured her place on the hook, to be a sacrificial lamb for the Entity.

On the other hand, she rarely ended up on the hook - Most killers prefer to kill her themselves, instead of letting her become pray for the horrible Entity who tortured so many of them for refusing to cooperate - The Trapper, Evan MacMillan - He knew the best, with those hooks digging into his flesh, impossible to extract. He was the first to protect this girl. It wasn't much, but if he had to, he'd rather give her a swift, painless death, than seeing her without that serene, angelic smile on her face, as the Entity feeds on the last bits of her soul's beauty, the last parts of her humanity.

The other Killers were confused at the Trapper's actions, but little by little, they began to understand why this girl was so precious and special - And this domino effect hit Rin Yamaoka next, with Y/N stopping in the middle of a chase and taking off her jacket, just as Rin was about to butcher her with her katana, and she smiled, extending it to her. 'You must be cold' she said, realising that the Spirit was merely wearing a few bandages, not even her school uniform, or her kimono.

The ghost girl was shaken up by this, and told the others at the killer camp, but they just shrugged it off - Rin was a little girl who faced close to no kindness, they weren't surprised she was so taken aback by such a feat. That is, until Adiris, in a particularly terrible day, when everyone at the camp was staying away from her, as her profane censer wasn't able to cover the stench of rotting flesh - Y/N came over, taking out a small yet elegant glass bottle with pink liquid on it, spraying some on her - And now, The Plague smelled of roses and vanilla - 'You can come to me for perfume whenever you want, I always carry some with me!' she grinned at the Babylonian High Priestess, before leaving back to the survivor's camp site, leaving the ancient God symbol to stare with her mouth agape at the girl.

These words began to spread, and it was no surprise when the killers saw Susie clinging and begging her Legion friends to spare Y/N, for she was there to hug away her worries more than once, to tell her sweet words, to play with her hair and play the guitar whatever songs she wanted to hear, to get reminded of her home - She was so home sick that she freaked out, but now she was better, thanks to Y/N - 'I know you miss home, but sometimes, home is where your best friends are, and all three of them are here!' she tried to encourage the cute pink-haired girl who could only squeal and hug her new friend.

Even Ghostface wasn't exempt from falling to her charms, and they would often take silly selfies and mess around, making fun of the old horror movie tropes and doing lots of puns and pranks - So much that she even got his trust to be told about the Danny/Jed thing, and how he began his killer profession - 'You're a very talented photographer, Danny! You deserved all that recognition you got, both as a journalist, and as a killer!'

And very soon, Y/N found herself in the crushing arms of an overprotective Anna, humming her mother's lullaby together with walking through the forest, Y/N making flower crows for all the female killers at the camp site, and little by little, she somehow managed to worm her way under everyone's skins.

Y/N was the survivor with the highest survivability percentage, and maybe the Entity sometimes got pissed off, but at least she still got killed sometimes, so who cares? Well, that was soon to change as soon as a new Killer was added to this sick game - Pyramid Head, the terror of Silent Hill, as Cheryl, the new Survivor, called him - or The Executioner, as he was known now. He was ruthless, merciless, grotesque - He had his own criteria of killing, his own moral compass, ethics, conscience and understanding of the concept of life and death. Nothing that could compare to the visions of humans, clearly - Everything was gravitating around Divine Retribution and Justice, but the from the outside, he was nothing but a killing machine.

He would kill everyone and anyone that crosses his path, without fail.

Y/N felt like her fortune ended completely the second she found herself in the new, overly cramped map, with Pyramid Head as the killer - She couldn't help but run around like a spazzic meerkat, trying to find and fix as many generators as possible, without having to get face to face with the walking hazard...

Only to run past a stuck Pyramid Head.

Slowly backtracing her steps, she saw the mountain of a man with his metal pyramid stuck in the frames a low window which he tried to walk over. He was trashing like a raged bull trying to attack a matador, but it was clear he was getting nowhere with this.

"H-Hey, u-uhm...Need some help?" she asked in a soft, careful voice, almost like a meek cat trying to test the waters, but in return, he started groaning even louder from the wrath he wanted to unleash upon the whole world. "Okay, uhm...I think I saw a can of vaseline in one of the chests around. I'll go fetch it and I'll come back for you. Don't move." she said, only to then realise how horrible that sounded, considering the situation, and it only seemed to anger the killer. "...I'm sorry, ignore me, I'm an idiot." she slapped herself pretty harshly before bolting out of there trying to find the chest.

However, Y/N cursed herself for not having perfectly memorised the whole map by heart already, since she found the vaseline can after the 3rd chest, and then, it took quite a while to find the bloody window that got the killer stuck - And by the time she got there, she was dead tired. "Okay, I'm here, I found the vaseline! Let's try to get you out of here." Y/N muttered as she put her feet on the low window pane to get to his level. "If it's not too much trouble, could you please hold onto me? I can't balance myself with both hands occupied, and I'd rather not fall." she explained as she opened the vaseline can, only to shiver as she felt two big, strong hands getting a firm grip on her hips. It was almost...Endearing, were she not too busy trying to get the killer unstuck. She kept massaging the metal edge, trying to push and pull, also praying to whatever deity that existed in her human world that she had her tetanus shot done on time - Until finally, she was able to get hear a loud screech, like a pop, and the killer got unstuck, and in the process, he stumbled backwards, while Y/N fell down on her butt.

"Ouchie..." she muttered, rubbing her back and sides to take away the pain surging through her body. "Are you okay?" she asked, almost intuitively, without realising it at first, until she heart a low grunt that brought her back to reality. "O-Oh...! You have glass shards stuck in your side! And you're bleeding too! Hold up, let me help." she hurried to his side, while the killer merely stiffened, feeling her delicate, slender fingers tracing his body, while he heaved and slouched his shoulders from the repressed wrath. "It may sting a bit, and I'm really sorry, but I promise it will be better soon." her voice was so motherly and warm, which also resonated in her actions, as she gingerly took a water bottle and imbued some tissues with it, to wipe away the blood smearing down his skin as she extracted the glass shards, and then..."This is grandma's marigold ointment. It's really good, and it smells nice." she explained as she carefully smeared a thick layer of the yellow ointment on the biggest wounds, while the little ones were covered by smiley-flower patterned plasters. They were cute, and colourful, and they never failed to make her smile. "Okay, there we go, all better! I hope you'll feel better very soon!" her voice got a tiny bit more cheerful and upbeat.

It made the Killer think about a trillion things, as he stepped in front of her, towering over her like the Empire states building next to a smiling pomeranian. What was with this girl? Why did she help a killer? And why did he feel so...Warm inside? He could sense a foreign kind of luminosity, a naivite and innocence that he only witnessed in children and animals. This woman in front of him was untainted by the darkness and evil of the world.

It didn't matter how many hardships she's been through, or how much sadness she had to endure - Her soul remained as pure as any snowdrop, as the first snow of winter, as the fleece of a baby lamb who let out its first 'meeeeh' to its mamma sheep.

He couldn't allow this human to be maimed in any way - Not by the world, not by the Entity, and certainly not by him. - Screw the Entity, Pyramind Head kills by his own rules, and now, he was blessed to be faced with a human who bore no real hatred for her peers, or for the world, despite the horrible situation she was thrown into.

He didn't understand, obviously, especially as he remembered the myriad of abominations that lurked through Silent Hill, all of them created by the torment of humans - The very torment that distorted their own reality, which resulted in him needing to solve the purpose as The Executioner - Eradicating the world of all evil.

"Th-This sword is so heavy...H-How can you carry this around like that...?! Your muscles must be so strained and sore...Y-You really need a massage, I'm sure." she stuttered as she tried to lift the much taller and heavier sword from the ground, only for the brute to simply bend and pick it up with extreme ease, putting the girl to shame with her complete lack of strength. "Hehe...You're really strong. I'm embarrassed now." she chuckled softly, scratching the back of her neck.

Before she could leave or do anything else, Pyramid Head picked her up by the throat, careful not to hurt her or restrict her air intake - I mean, how else was he supposed to carry her so he wouldn't hurt her with his metal head or sword? - and it was pretty clear she didn't feel any malevolence from him, as she clinged on his forearm, trying to keep herself up, only to be dumped on top of the hatch, as the killer pointed towards it, so she would leave.

"O-Oh...! Thank you so much! You're really kind! I really appreciate this...I-I know it probably doesn't matter much to you, since you'll be doing this over and over again with all the survivors...But I really appreciate you for your kind gesture, and I appreciate you for being so nice with me. Thank you. Take care!" her dazzling smile lit the whole place up, but he couldn't talk, nor could he tell her how he should be the one thanking her for showing him that, despite the hundreds and thousands of years he had to roam the 'Earth' and execute the injust, miracles still existed.

As soon as she reached the survivor's camp, everyone cheered for her, asking how in the world could she have escaped the wrath of the butcher. "Oh, but he wasn't that bad. In fact, he's much more humane than I anticipated! I think he has a beautiful, blooming heart!" okay, she's lost it - the other survivors thought - but even so, she's always been a bit...Out of it, so who cares?

It took quite a while for the other three survivors to reach the camp, all bloody, in fact, like the new killer, who dragged himself with the same menace to the Killers' camp. "How the hell did you manage to survive?!" they yelled at her in utter shock, seeing that she got out of there unscratched. "Oh, you see...I found the hatch." she shrugged simply, not wanting to give away that the person who massacred those three was a soft one and he basically threw her down the hatch to her safety.

As she took a twig to roast a marshmallows, she noticed how Pyramid Head was standing much farther away from the rest of the killers - She knew that silent killers were bound to stay away from the more obnoxious one, remembering how Michael Myers almost killed Ghostface and The Legion at least a dozen times - But this time...He seemed kinda...Lonely? So Y/N took the matters into her own hands, roasted another marshmallow in another twig, and when it was done, she went to the killer's camp, calling out the lonely one's name - She has no idea why, but he actually followed her, pushing her further deep into the forest, until he was sure nobody was going to hear, see or interrupt them...

"Hey. You seemed pretty lonely out there...I thought you could use a friend. Thank you again for what you did at the trial...Here, this is a marshmallow. I don't think you've had many before...Cheryl told me of that horrible place you had to live in...So I hope this will make your day a bit better!" Y/N extended one of her hands towards him, so he could take the marshmallow - And a long, black tongue erupted from underneath the pyramid, snatching away the fluffy marshmallow and gulping it in one go.

What the hell was he turning into?

A towering man built of pure muscle, wrath and divine justice, with a pyramid representing the evil of humanity burdening his body, and a sword taller and heavier than the average human being constantly dragged in one of his hand...He now was a slave to a cute, innocent girl who was putting flower plasters on his minuscule wounds that would heal in a heartbeat regardless - He saved this girl who was now offering his these soft, squishy things that tasted overly sugarly, just like her upbeat and cheerful personality - If he could eat her, he was sure she would taste even sweeter than this - A sickish kind of sweet, that is.

She was indeed a beautiful angel in this tragic hell. But he didn't wait to snatch the second marshmallow either.

"Ah...! You liked it, didn't you? Well...Next time, I promise I'll give you more!" she grinned at him the same way a princess would to her chivalrous knight who saved her. The since he couldn't talk, silence took over them - It wasn't an uncomfortable one, per se, but it made it feel as if the conversation was over. "W-Well...I'll guess I'll see you around! Take care and I hope to see you again soon!" she waved cutely, trying to turn around back to her camp, only to feel a rough hand on her shoulder, turning her around and urging her to stop and wait for him and he went deep into the forest, leaving her alone and undefended by the potential malevolent forces of the forest.

When he returned, however, he stepped right in front of her, creating the perfect shade as he towered over her - Then he kneeled in front of her, so he would reach her eye sight, then he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and put a beautiful pink flower - As pink as the blush that started creeping on her face - He wanted to see her luminous face better, to highlight her dazzling smile and her glimmering eyes as the warm, silver light of the mother moon caressed her face.

Y/N felt her heart picking up the pace - It was beating so much faster than ever before - But this time, it wasn't out of fear or anything negative...It was something good. Something she never felt in her life, especially with her human acquaintances from back home. None was as chivalrous and gentle with her as this butcher of tormented souls - The bringer of justice, the merciless Executioner who was supposed to end the life of every living being that would cross his path.

It was insane how every Yin finds its Yang, even if that comes in the form of a little lamb of a small, frail girl, and a huge abomination of a brute man who knows nothing but death, bloodshed and carnage. It was truly crazy how opposites attract, and here she was, holding the killers large hands and gingerly putting them on her face, leaning into his touch - She felt safer now than ever in her life - Now, in the arms of an ancient killer.

An Angel and A Demon brought together in a perfect union.

As she leaned down, she touched the metal of the pyramid where she anticipated his forehead would be with her own forehead, and closing her eyes, she finally felt herself calming down. There was no need for words, actions spoke louder than anything, and she appreciated it...She appreciated him.

"Thank you." she whispered to him, knowing that yes, even though nobody else would hear it anyway, it was much more intimate than anything she ever experienced.

She was hooked.

Hope you liked my completely shameless pun, I couldn't stop it, especially after the pain I went through trying to write this...3 freaking times.

Yay.

#dead by daylight #dead by daylight x reader #dead by daylight imagine #dbd #dbd x reader #dbd imagine #silent hill #silent hill x reader #silent hill imagine #pyramid head #pyramid head x reader #pyramid head imagine #red pyramid #red pyramid x reader #red pyramid imagine

[zodiakuroo]

Un(holy) Trinity

Pairing: Dabi x Fem!Reader x Shigaraki

Content: 18+ dubcon/noncon, threesome, manhandling, rough sex, corruption, degradation, humiliation, breathplay, stepcest, breeding, blasphemy and sacrilege, elements of mindbreak and god complex (?) 

Word count: 4.1k

Notes: my first threesome and idk how to feel about it but here it is! If it’s bad I can blame it on the fact that I just had my wisdom teeth extracted and am currently in a world of pain :) also i’m on bedrest and incredibly bored so if anyone has requests or thirsts or just wants to chat... yeah

also if this banner is shit i’m sorry i rushed and made it on my phone cause i just rly wanted to to post

This is part 2 to my other fic Love Thy Brother which you can read here 

Now the serpent was more cunning than any beast of the field which the LORD God had made. And he said to the woman, “Has God indeed said, ‘You shall not eat of every tree of the garden’?” - Genesis 3:1

Twelve days.

Twelve days since you lost your virginity.

Twelve days since you lost your virginity to your step-brother, no less. 

The night that it happened, you lay awake in your bed dreading the aftermath of the horrific incident. How could you face him again? How could you face your family? How could you face God? 

You were too cowardly to face the rest of your household. The Todoroki family welcomed you into their home only for you betray them by sleeping with Touya. Ever since you were little, your mother would say she had a sort of sixth sense that meant God would always tell her when you’d been up to mischief. It sounds silly but there was no explanation for how she would always catch out in lie or know things that you never told her. You feared she would take one look at you and know the sin you committed. And so you chose to make yourself scarce, taking extra shifts at work and choosing to study at the campus library rather than at home. Your siblings seemed to notice how busy you suddenly were, often remarking how they missed you around the house. That just made you feel more ashamed. 

As for God, you felt like you needed to do whatever necessary to prove your faith. You wanted Him to know the extent of your shame and remorse. You were weak in spirit, making you an easy target for someone as devious as Touya. You prayed and begged for forgiveness until your knees hurt but no matter what you did, the guilt was inescapable. You realized it was because, irrespective of the regret and remorse you felt, you couldn’t deny that you enjoyed what happened. You liked the way Dabi made you feel and you hated yourself for it. But no matter how much you liked it, something like that could never happen again. As penance, you banned yourself from bringing your hands anywhere near your groin. After all that temptation is what brought you to this point in the first place. But the thread of your self-control is thin and withered so at night when you’re certain everyone is asleep, you’re humping your pillow like an animal and biting down on your lip trying to keep from moaning his name. At least you weren’t touching right? 

Dabi, by some God-given miracle, made himself scarce as well. It wasn’t uncommon for the noirette to disappear for days at a time doing heaven knows what only to arrive back at home like nothing happened; so no one really questioned his absence. Perhaps he  felt the same way you did and was avoiding facing you and the other Todorokis.

Yeah right. 

Shame? Todoroki Touya doesn’t know the meaning of the word. 

In any case, you had become used to a Dabi-less house and so lulled into a false sense of safety, slowly but surely reverting back to normal. That’s why as you make your way downstairs, prepared to go to your church, the sound of gunfire and explosions from the living room doesn’t alarm you. Probably Natsuo or Shouto playing one of their video games, you thought. But when you get to the bottom of the stairs you’re met with unmistakable dark locks. Not just him. The back of another person’s head, one with pale blue, shoulder length hair. Before you can stop yourself, you let out a gasp. Neither of them react, seemingly too focused on their game. You don’t waste any time feeling relieved, choosing instead to make a silent escape. 

You could only dream of being so lucky. 

“Oi!” Your step-brother calls without turning around. He hasn’t seen you, you think. If you move quickly you can still get out of this. “I know you heard me, brat. Get over here before I drag you over here.” He still doesn’t bother to turn around but the sharpness in his tone lets you know that you’d be smart to listen. You take a second to steel your nerves and make your way over to the couch, trying your best to look as intimidating as possible. You scowl at both men but they are so engrossed in their video game, they don’t even acknowledge that you’re standing right there. “Aren’t you gonna say hi? We have company.” 

We?

The company in question is Shigaraki Tomura. He’s been to the house before although he’s never even so much as glanced in your direction, too busy with his phone or playing games with Dabi. Despite your hard expression you can only manage a meek “Hello Shigaraki.” 

He responds by finally looking at you, with a sleazy grin, a pair of crimson eyes, surrounded by creases meet your own. “Sup.” 

Beer cans litter the coffee table, one of them being turned into a makeshift ashtray while both have smouldering cigarettes perched between their lips. “You’re not supposed to smoke in the house.” 

“You’re not supposed to smoke in the house.” Dabi mocks you with a nasal voice. 

You simply roll your eyes, not interested in continuing this interaction any further.  “Whatever. I’m leaving now.” You state with as much firmness as you can muster. You spin on your heels but are kept in place by long, slender digits wrapped around your wrist. 

“Where are you off to anyways?” The game paused, both boys now looking at you. 

Out of habit, you answer truthfully. “Bible study.” 

Shigaraki and Dabi burst into raucous laughter. 

You should have lied. 

“Nah you’re gonna hang out with me and Shigaraki for a bit.” 

“Dabi, I have to leave.”

“You don’t have to do anything except what I tell you and I’m telling you to sit.” 

Before you can protest you’re being hauled on to the couch, squeezed between the two of them. 

“Nice necklace.” Tomura snorts, hand reaching out to grab at your crucifix but you swat it away. His gaze is unnerving. It makes you wonder if- no. He promised he wouldn’t. 

Just like that, their game is resumed, as if you were never there. A few rounds pass, no words exchanged between either of them, only curses muttered under their breath. “Dabi, can I please go. I’m bored.” 

Wrong choice of words. 

“You hear that Tomura? The princess is bored.” His fingers are still moving rapidly over his controller. 

“Really now? Come on then Todoroki, let’s show her a good time. I’ve seen how she likes to have fun.” 

His comment on your necklace suddenly makes sense, but you still can’t believe it. “You didn’t…” you whip your head back to look at Dabi. 

”Sorry doll, you made your Nii-san so proud, I just had to show you off.” Dabi smiles shamelessly, lighting himself another cigarette. 

“You’re fucking sick Touya.” Tomura says, however his tone is not one of disgust but rather of admiration. 

“You promised...” Your voice breaks. You’re humiliated beyond belief. 

Both of them laugh at you again, discarding their controllers. “Told you, it’s adorable how stupid she is.” Dabi remarks to his friend, as if you’re not sitting right next to them. 

You try to force your way off the couch but get pulled into Dabi’s lap, one of his arms hooking around both of yours, securing them behind your back. You squirm in his arms but he stills you with a hard slap on your inner thigh. “Be good okay? Don’t embarrass me.” He nuzzles into your neck. 

Shigaraki flips up your dress exposing your white lace panties. He runs his thumb up and down your clothed slit, he fabric slowly becoming even more transparent. One severe jerk to the top of your dress and the straps are torn clean off, revealing the matching bra. “Yo, Touya. I thought she was a good girl.”

Dabi peers over your shoulder to get look. “Who’s all this for babe? You screwing the preacher or something? Or were you hoping I’d do something like this?” He tugs down your bra until your breasts are spilling over the top of it.

“Dabi…” Your choke on your plea when he sinks his teeth into your neck. He bites down so hard you’re positive he’s left a mark.

“Who?” 

“T-Touya-nii.” You whimper. 

“Better.” 

Your destroyed dress is discarded somewhere across the room and you find yourself on your hands and knees with Shigaraki kneeling on the couch in front of you and Dabi behind you. 

“Go easy on her alright Tomura. It’s her first time sucking cock.” He chuckles. 

Your eyes go wide. “Wait...” you mewl but neither pay you any mind.

“And you.” Dabi yanks a fistful of your hair. “No teeth. No puke. Or I’ll let my boy ream your little ass as punishment.”

“Yeah. What he said.” Shigaraki mutters, pulling his semi out of his sweatpants, rubbing his tip against your lips. His is not as scary as your step-brother’s but him staring down at you like this, makes him seem every bit as intimidating. 

Pre-cum dribbles from the swollen tip. You’re not entirely sure you want that in your mouth but you’re also not sure if you have a choice so you open up hesitantly. 

Dabi’s right. It is your first time doing something like this. You don’t know what you’re supposed to do but as it turns out you don’t have to do much, not with the way Shigaraki starts thrusting his quickly hardening member into your mouth.

“Move your tongue slut.” The man in front of you grunts. You do your best despite the heavy intrusion to obey his command, moving from side to side, swirling around the head when he pulls out of your mouth. He looks down at you with cruel vermillion eyes, panting as he strokes himself in front of you, spreading your saliva across his shaft before sliding deep into your mouth again.

Behind you, Dabi spreads apart your cheeks, squeezing the flesh in his calloused hands. “Remember what I said. Be good and I’ll give you a reward.” He pulls your panties to the side and lets out a whistle at the sight of your dripping slit. “She’s enjoying it. Make her take it deeper.”

You can’t possibly fathom how much deeper he can go when his head is already nudging at your tonsils. You try to swallow the saliva building up in your mouth, making your cheeks hollow out around Shigaraki’s shaft. Seems like that was the right thing to do as his hand flies to the back of your head. “Shit. Shit. So good.”

Dabi’s breath wafts over your pussy. He spreads your lips apart and you feel his hot tongue lick up the juices leaking from your hole. You squeal around Tomura’s dick. You want to pull off but his spindly fingers hold your head in place.

“Told you angel. Good little sisters get rewards.” With that he takes your clit between his lips and suckles on it gently while one of his fingers circles your entrance. Knuckle by knuckle he slides into you, making you keen. You arch your back trying to shift your hips backwards against his hand, silently urging him to find that special spot he showed you last time. He establishes a loose rhythm. Hot wet muscle and cold metal of his piercing circles the sensitive bundle of nerves, before applying suction while his fingers work you open.

The sensation is overwhelming, a form of heavenly torture and your thighs quiver barely able to hold you up while you use your last bit of mental strength to focus on suppressing your gags. That mental strength all but evaporates when the digits inside you graze that rough patch embedded in your walls. It’s so pleasurable your reflex is to run from his fingers. Luckily for Shigaraki, that means you move forward, taking him further into your mouth.

“This where you want me? This your spot, angel?” Dabi taunts you. Shigaraki holds you in place while two of your step-brother’s fingers drill your cunt, hitting that spot over and over again. Garbled moans and cries leave your mouth and reverberate around Tomura’s cock, proving to be too much for him ultimately. 

“Shit Stop!” Don’t wanna come yet.” He pulls out your mouth so that a string of your drool drips down to your breasts.

“God! Touya-nii!” You sputter out.

“Still with the God shit?” He uses your hair to force you to look at him, neck twisted at an awkward, uncomfortable angle. “God ever make you feel this good?” His fingers thrust into you harder. Your whole body feels like it’s on fire.

“Ngghh-N-no –oh! Oh!” is your incoherent answer.

Dabi forces you back down, shoving you face first into the cushions. “See? Fuck him. Give up on god. Give up on everyone except your big brother cause no one else can make you feel this good.”

You’re so pathetic. The way you’re rocking yourself in unison with the motions of his hands. The way your tongue hangs out of your mouth, impeding any sort of intelligible verbal response. The way you’re mindlessly nodding along to whatever filth is coming out of Dabi’s mouth.

“C’mon Touya. Turn her around. Wanna try out that sweet pussy you’ve been bragging about.” You’re reminded that you aren’t alone. No, your brother’s best friend is right there to witness exactly how pathetic you are.

“Yeah in a minute. I’m still having my fun.” Dabi answers, face pressed against your mons before working you with his mouth once again.  

“Man! Come on!” Tomura whines.

 “I said in a minute.  Not my fault you can’t last.”

It’s amazing how they can bicker like this right now, as if you aren’t on your hands and knees for them, gummy walls still pulsing around his fingers. However, it’s not long before Dabi’s focus is back on you taking you to the brink of orgasm. He slows his fingers, keeping you balanced on that razor thin edge. “Should I make you cum angel?” His voice is dripping with fake concern. “Dunno… what’s in it for me?”

“Anything! Touya-nii please!”

“Anything? You gonna obey me? Do whatever I say like a good little angel? You gonna worship me?” You can’t tell if he’s being serious or if he’s mocking you.

Probably the latter. And you deserve it too.

Your faith was the thing you deemed more important than anything and anyone else but Dabi, all too easily, convinced you to disregard that. Made you lose all sense and give into lust by showing you mindblowing pleasure, only magnified by your awareness of how deeply sinful this all was. That’s the extent of the power he has over you. The story of Adam and Eve is one you know forwards and backwards and yet you were so easily tempted forbidden fruit and left completely corrupted.  Yeah, he’s definitely mocking you.

“Any- fuck- anything” You’re wiggling your ass, goading Dabi into finishing you off

“Cum in my mouth. Angel, give it to me” That’s the final straw. You explode around his fingers. Despite your walls, clamping around him, he manages to piston into you, hitting that squishy spot with astounding accuracy. His unyielding stimulation makes it feel as though the high won’t end. You’re not sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.

Eventually, it does end though, his fingers drag out against the pull of your swollen pussy. He licks you clean making sure he gets every last drop of your cum, both inside and out, on his tongue. The ball of his piercing catches onto your rim making you yelp. He soothes the sting with gentle laps of his tongue.

“Tastes so sweet angel. So sweet knowing I’m the only one to ever fuck this pretty pussy.” He snickers before adding “So far.”

“Yeah, can I fuck her now?” Tomura was turned on before but seeing the way you fell apart at the hands of your brother? His minimal patience has run out. All he can think of now is being inside you.

 “You heard him babe. Turn around.” He spanks your ass. You try to turn around but thanks to your shaky legs you nearly fall off the couch. Dabi catches you before that happens and he dutifully sets you up on all fours, held up by quivering limbs. You hear heavy breathing from behind you as Shigaraki taps his head against your puffy clit while you twitch in place.

“She wants this so bad. Had no idea your Christian little sister was such a whore.” Shigaraki mutters. He holds you still as he buries himself in you, breathing becoming more erratic with every inch until his hip bones are digging into your soft flesh. He’s so deep. You feel so full. You squeeze shut your eyelids, savouring the stretch. 

Calloused fingers press into your jaw, making your eyes shoot open. “Pretty angel, did you forget about me?” Dabi looms over you, making a show of spitting in his palm and using it to stroke himself. He slips his thumb into your mouth, pad pressing down on the plush pillow of your tongue. “Gonna stuff you nice ‘n full angel.” All you can do is blink up at him with teary eyes, pupils blown wide with desire. 

Shigaraki begins thrusting into you, hips moving at a brutal pace. Dabi isn’t far behind him, replacing his thumb with his cock and you don’t waste time waiting for him to tell you what to do. You close your lips around his shaft, engulfing him in the wet heat of your mouth.

Unlike his friend, Dabi starts off slow. His piercings drag across your tongue and you taste metal and the salt of his pre-cum. It takes some time for you to get used to taking him in your mouth, the jewellery an added obstacle. 

You feel so full. 

Shigaraki is bottoming out with every thrust, it’s so lewd the way it makes you squelch around him. Dabi’s shaft is rubbing your throat raw and still, you make an effort to take him deeper. He keeps one hand on the back of your head while he fucks you mouth.

He looks so ethereal, so euphoric, letting out little moans and whispered expletives. The sounds he makes are divine, so heavily contrasted by everything you know about him. It leaves you star struck. He recognizes the adoration in your eyes and responds in kind with a cocky smirk. He remembers how you looked at him when you first met. Disdain and judgment. Now you look at him like he’s your only salvation. 

It’s sad actually. How you’re so desperate for someone to tell you how to live. And what a sweet, adoring little follower you are. Wasted on religion if you ask him. So soft and pliant, perfect for your big brother to mould and corrupt into his personal fuckangel. 

“Angel, Nii-san’s gonna fill you up. And you’re gonna take it yeah?”

Your whole life you aspired to this holy standard of perfection in the hopes of escaping eternal damnation. But you’re beyond absolution now.

“All of it down your throat.”

It’s okay though.

If heaven doesn’t feel like this, you’re not sure it’s worth all the effort to get there. 

He holds your necklace behind you like a leash, twisting it around his fingers. Between the way he’s basically strangling you and the way your swallowing muscles contract around his cock means that you’re not getting much air into your lungs. Your head is spinning, from being both oxygen deprived and cock drunk.

“Your God doesn’t want you anymore.” The clasp snaps and he dangles the charm in front of your face. The mould of Christ nailed to the cross taunts you.  What was once a symbol of divine love and God’s boundless forgiveness and sacrifice is just a reminder of how far you’ve fallen into depravity, creaming around Shigaraki’s cock as he ruins your cunt while your Nii-san claims your throat “You’re filthy.” Touya sneers at you as he holds himself in your throat, watching you cry and choke around him. “Dirty fuckin angel.” He grunts as he floods your mouth with the taste of his cum. It’s not exactly pleasant but you try to swallow it all down. There’s just so much. That means he’s pleased with you right? You want him to be pleased. Good girls get rewards he said 

“It’s okay.” He muses as he pulls out of your mouth. “You have me. I’m better than God and I Iove you when you’re nasty like this.” He empathizes his point by dragging his wet, softening cock across your face. “Nii-sans perfect little angel.”

It’s so pitiful how the small praise makes your heart bloom and makes your hole flutter.

You’re coughing up Touya’s cum while your body shakes with Shigaraki’s thrusts.

“What about me hm? I’m fucking you. What? You don’t like it?” Tomura’s going harder now, determined to get his fair share of your attention.

“Shig-Shigaraki – shit. Slow down!”

You’re ignored by both of them once again. If anything, Shigaraki starts fucking you harder

.”Yo’ dustpot. You better pull out. That hole still belongs to me.”

The warning falls on deaf ears, Tomura is too far gone. “So warm, she’s squeezin’ me. Fuck. Fuck.’’ No thoughts, just your tight cunt.

“Gonna do whatever I tell you?” Dabi’s talking to you now, cerulean eyes boring into yours.

You nod still staring at him with absolute devotion.

“Touya-nii’s will be done? Huh? Has a nice ring to it.”

When you don’t respond he grabs you by your cheeks forming an open mouthed pout. “Say it.”

“Touya-nii’shhh will be done.” The words come out distorted but he’s satisfied

“Oh yeah? Then be good angel slut and come on his cock for me.”  

You’re pushed over the edge, coming for the second time. Your walls clamp down around him as you sob out both their names in the form of incoherent babbling. It hits you as hard as the first one. You’re so caught up in your high you barely register the vice grip on your hips, the frantic humping against your ass. “Tight. Fuckin tight! Gotta breed! Breed this fucking hole.”

His hot, sticky cum floods your walls with, your throbbing cunt milking him for everything he’s got. He ruts against you a couple more times before removing himself completely.

You hear the familiar click of a camera. He’s sorry (not really) but the sight of your fucked out hole leaking globs of your cream and his cum was too hot for Shigaraki to not add to his spankbank. 

“Thanks for that little sis.” Dabi is resting on the couch, head thrown back smoking a cigarette.

“Yeah thanks sweetness.”  Both men, tuck themselves back into their pants

Everything feels so surreal. You cautiously move you hand between your thighs. Feeling your sore abused cunt in an attempt to grasp the reality of what happened.

Wait a minute. 

It’s too much, that too sticky to be just your arousal down there. The more you squeeze, contracting your pelvic floor, the more it seems to seep out of you. 

“You… You came inside.” You murmur as your eyes well up with tears. Whatever daze you were in seems to be broken by this revelation. Instead it’s replaced by fear of what the consequences of this might be. 

Dabi smacks his friend upside the head. “You fuckin’ dumbass. I told you not to.”

Judging by his grin, Shigaraki doesn’t register the insult. He’s too busy basking in the afterglow. “Aw, don’t cry babe. You were gripping me so tight, I thought you wanted it. ‘S’okay, your Nii-san will get you a plan B”

“Fuck no. That’s your jizz inside her.” He scowls, eyes focused on the cum that’s leaking out of your spent pussy.

“C’mon Dabi don’t be like that. I’m broke right now.” Shigaraki pleads.

Touya huffs and rolls his eyes.  “You can get yourself a morning after pill right? Tomura will pay you back.”

“Yeah babe. I promise.” He gives you a dopey smile.

It doesn’t take a genius to figure out he’s lying. Yeah, you know better now. You just nod as you pull up your panties, cringing at the sticky, wet sensation against your cunt.

 “Me and Tomura are heading out. Make sure you clean all this up before anyone gets home.”

“B-but Touya-nii-“ you snivel.

“No buts. Clean up or you won’t be sitting comfy for a week. Are we clear?”

“Yes Touya-nii.” You reply defeated.

“And do it properly. Fuyumi has 3 brothers, she knows what a cumstain looks like and I don’t wanna have to do any explaining to her.”

You only nod, trying (and failing) to blink away tears.

Dabi rewards you with a chaste kiss to your cheek. “Best little sister in the world.” And he leaves you with that.

#tw dubcon #tw manhandling #tw noncon #tw stepcest #tw pseudoincest #tw sacrilegious #tw blasphemy #tw mindbreak #dark fic #dabi smut #dabi x reader #dabi imagine #touya x reader #touya smut #shigaraki smut #shigaraki x reader #mha smut #mha imagines #bnha smut #bnha imagines

[221bshrlocked]

As Sweet As Honey, As Tempting As Death

Pairing: Pero Tovar x Fem!Reader

Words: 18524 (holy fuck this really got out of hand)

Warning: Angst to Smut to Angst to Sort of Fluff. Biblical verses that may or may not be used in a blasphemous context. Incorrect use of a rosary. Dub/Non-con elements due to sex pollen so proceed with caution but just know that both characters have been pining after each other and that the issue is resolved in the end. Some form of voyeurism. Penetrative, Unprotected Sex. Dirty/Sweet Talk. Spanking. Hair-Pulling. Oral (female and male receiving). Creampie. Slight Choking Kink. Fluid Exchange Kink because Tovar is filthy. Overstimulation. Squirting.

Summary: During the two years with William’s company, Tovar has been nothing but hostile towards you, constantly remarking about your religious lifestyle and how ‘unskilled’ you are during battle. But when you get hurt trying to save him, Tovar reevaluates his antagonistic behavior towards you and shows you some kindness. Thoughts of him apologizing are set aside, however, when he finally accepts that he will never have a chance with you upon hearing your prayers. Things take a turn for the worse when he realizes that the knife you were stabbed with was laced with an aphrodisiac and that there is a chance you might die if it isn’t worked out of your system properly. Does he ignore your cries for him and potentially leave you to your death or does he aid you and live with the knowledge that you will hate him forever once you come to your senses?

A/N: This is born out of some sick part of me that finds it really hot and intense when one character is sexually frustrated and horny but is bound by their religious beliefs. I would say I don’t know what about this really specific “trope” that gets me going but I would be lying. I’m straight up projecting my own thoughts on this fic and I do apologize if this offends anyone’s beliefs. Hell, it offends my own beliefs but- like, there is no going back. Please let me know how I am doing in the comments. Thank you and enjoy. This is not beta’d and I apologize for any mistakes you find. I just really wanted to post this fic so I’ll go back in later to correct them.

With each passing day, the roughness became a little hurtful, a little more unbearable. But with each insult and passing grumble, you had to remind yourself that life wasn’t fair to everyone, and certainly not to him. It has been almost two years since you’ve joined William’s company and you would have brought it up to him had you been assured that a certain Spaniard wouldn’t bite your head off at the sentimentality. A deep sigh escaped your lips before you could control it and you shut your eyes in an attempt to drown out the deep, sarcastic chuckle emanating from the man behind you. 

“Already tired princesa? Should we stop for the night to allow your highness to rest?” Tovar murmured something beneath his breath and you were sure he was only continuing with his insults in his mother tongue so William wouldn’t warn him again. You, on the other hand, had to bite your lip to refrain from pouting at the snarky comment. The last thing you wished was for Tovar to see your hurt. Not that he would care.

You kicked your horse to slow down and turned the other way just as Tovar passed you, ignoring the way he looked at you as you fell in step with another mercenary, one who’s only been with your group for a month. You smiled at him and nodded when he asked you how you were doing, politely excusing yourself as you looked down at the small book falling apart at your touch. Your eyes scanned the small pages of the Bible, and you prayed for guidance when you sensed a pair of angry eyes throwing imaginary daggers at you from ahead. 

As the sun set deeper into the sky, you helped William set up camp and ignored the teasing remarks Tovar continued to throw your way. The Irishman noticed how hard you were trying to ignore his old friend while also working on the tent and he instantly came to your aid and whispered a joke to you, not shying away from looking at his friend when your laughter rang through the forest. William watched as Tovar narrowed his eyes at him before cursing the two of you as he left to keep watch for the night. When everything was as it should be, you walked around with water and ensured that everyone was hydrated. You were standing with the newest member of the company, Thomas, asking him if he needed anything before you turned in for the night. He shook his head but held onto the wineskin, reluctantly turning towards Tovar before meeting your eyes.

“Would you prefer it if I bring it to him?”

“Thank you Thomas but that won’t be necessary. I’ll take it to him.” You held out your hand and waited patiently for the young man to give it to you, smiling at him and moving to walk past him when he held out his hand and grabbed your arm.

“Why do you not meet him with similar hostility?” You hadn’t expected for him to ask you such a question, and you know very well that Tovar could most certainly hear you when a few leaves broke underneath his feet as he tried to subtly move closer. 

“For if you forgive men their trespasses, your heavenly Father will also forgive you. But if you do not forgive men their trespasses, neither will your Father forgive your trespasses.” You tilted your head to the side and smiled at Thomas before patting his shoulder. “Good night Thomas. Make sure you get enough rest.” You didn’t wait for an answer, turning away and heading towards the tree bark where Tovar was standing. You prayed that he would accept the drink and not create any problems but as soon as you looked up and saw the way he was looking down at you, you knew it wouldn’t be so simple. It never was with him.

“Good evening Tovar, would you like some w-” You aren’t able to finish your question because Tovar instantly cut you off with a growled order, spitting down to prevent you from coming closer to him. 

“¡Váyase!” It’s not the first time Tovar yells at you to leave him alone, and you’re sure it won’t be the last, but you swallow whatever you wish to tell him as you nod and leave the wineskin at the roots of the tree. You step away from him without once meeting his eyes and Tovar is sure you won’t say anything else so he looks down at the water you left him only to find you turning around and meeting his gaze head-on.

“Buenas noches.” You offer a smile that Tovar knows is forced and conveys no warmth or affection and he clenches his jaw when he sees you return to sit next to William near the fire. He watches the two of you interact for another moment before he turns around and stabs the tree with his knife. 

“Mierda.” 

Your eyes seek Tovar a few more times throughout the night before you move to your tent, and you ignore William’s teasing remarks when he catches you looking longingly at the grumpy Spaniard just before entering into your shelter. 

“It is a bit ironic isn’t it?” William asks as he moves towards his own tent and he offers a supportive smile when you shrug and look at your feet shyly. 

“Things would be a lot easier if we had control over whom our hearts choose.” You nod at him before bidding him a good night and moving into the safety of your tent. You take a few deep breaths and remove your weapons from your person, setting them down beneath your blankets as you bring your Bible out of your pocket once more to recite your nightly prayers. 

You were never one to question God’s decisions but if there ever came a time when you would, it would be now. You wanted nothing more than to know why Tovar couldn’t stand the sight of you. William assured you early on that it took a while for Tovar to warm up to new mercenaries they met along the road but it was completely different with you. What started out as whispered remarks about your abilities became loud and shameless insults about, not only your lack of skills, but your way of life as well. You weren’t sure if it was you that he hated or your religion, and it didn’t come to matter anyway because in the end, he would need to deal with his maker, not with you. 

But as much as you prayed for guidance and begged for patience, it seemed that the Almighty was electing to leave you on your own when it came to dealing with the man that was Pero Tovar. And no matter how hard you asked for Him to allow your heart to close towards the Spaniard, your prayers were never answered. Instead, you were left with a gaping hole in your heart that you came to realize would only be filled if the man who hated you with every ounce of his being learned to love you. It was a humorous thought and you shook your head at the wishful thinking before turning off the candle you always kept with you.

A few hours later, you wake up heaving and sweating, hands instantly grabbing for the sword beneath the pillow when you hear someone call for you from outside the tent. Rubbing the sleep from your eyes, it takes you a few moments to recognize who was standing not five feet away from you.

“It’s your watch princesa...unless you want Th-”

“I’ll- I’ll be out in a minute.” You cut him off and flinch when you hear how hoarse and broken your voice sounds. It takes Tovar a few seconds to respond and you manage to hear a quick ‘bueno’ before he’s moving away. Moving around the tent, you quickly find your coat and put it on, grabbing your weapons and the small book near your pillow before moving out of the tent. You spot Tovar sitting near the fire but elect to say nothing, walking towards one of the water basins and throwing some across your face to freshen up before moving past him to where you would keep watch. Tovar bit harshly into the bread and couldn’t hold back from following your every move, his eyes sweeping over your form and landing on your backside. He barely managed to keep his moan quiet, his mind running away with thoughts of taking you over and over again until you only remembered his name. Until you couldn’t walk without feeling him on every inch of your skin.

He shuts his eyes and tries to remember how you sounded not ten minutes ago when he came to wake you. He could vaguely hear you whimpering inside your tent and almost came in to make sure you weren’t in danger. But he wouldn’t, couldn’t even if he tried. He had no right to do so. And then you spoke so heavily and he almost lost his bearings because he now knew what you sounded like just as you woke up. And he was certain your little sighs and moans would haunt his dreams in the coming nights. 

As if you hadn’t plagued his mind enough for the past two years.

The moon was still illuminating the night sky when Tovar woke up from his slumber and he walked away from the company to try and have some privacy, afraid he would give away his heart’s desires should he remain near the fire and continue to look at you. His ears pick up a faint sound coming from the edge of the trees and he takes his sword out as he approaches the voice, only to find you kneeling down on the floor with your own weapons attached to your back. For a moment, Tovar couldn’t breathe, his eyes taking in your beauty as your eyes remained shut and your lips moved softly. It took him a few more moments to notice the tears rolling down your cheeks and his frown grew when he realized that someone must have said something to you. He sheathed his sword away and was about to announce his presence when he finally heard what it was you were saying. One look at the book in between your knees and his anger came back a hundred fold. Of course you were praying. Tovar shook his head and was about to leave when he registered the words falling from your lips.

“I am weary with my groaning, all night I make my bed swim.” Tovar hisses beneath his breath as his mind conjures up images of your hands twisting your nipples and fingering your tight cunt while he watches you bring yourself to pleasure and drench the covers with your juices. He swallows the lump in his throat when you continue to pray and call for your God. 

“I drench my couch with my tears, my eye wastes away because of grief. It grows old because of all my enemies.” You’re sniffing through broken words and Tovar hates himself for growing hard at the sight of you. He knows he shouldn’t be thinking of you in such a way, especially during this intimate moment. Lord knows the blasphemous thoughts he has are enough to bring him to the depths of hell, but here he was, cupping himself through his breeches as you prayed your psalms and asked for guidance. There was no forgiveness for him, not now, not ever.

“I will lift up my eyes to the hills, from whence comes my help? My- my help comes from the L-Lord, who made heaven and- and, oh god, and earth. Please God, I beg for your forgiveness. The Lord is your keeper...the- the Lord is your shade at your right hand...the sun shall not strike you by day, nor the moon- nor the moon by night. Christ, have mercy on me please. I do not mean to have such vile, unholy thoughts...it is not my- intention to...to act upon my dreams. Please, God...preserve my soul.” Tovar’s ears perk up at the sudden shift in your prayers and he maneuvers himself around with stealth to take a better look at you. 

And the twisted, sick part of him swears in gratitude for catching you at such an hour because he’s never seen a more beautiful sight than you in this moment, on your knees, hands clasping at your chest, eyes filled with unshed tears, and breasts heaving with neediness. 

You were magnificent. 

“Lord, I know you can hear me. Please, answer my prayers. I know...for the desires of the flesh are against the Spirit, and the desires of the Spirit are against the flesh, for these are opposed to each other, to keep me from doing the things I want to do. Forgive me Lord for I have sinned. I have allowed Satan to make a home in my heart, I- I cannot...I am unable to fight him without your help. For-forgive me...forgive me.” Tovar’s eyes widened in surprise when he heard you, his heart threatening to escape his chest when your words finally sank into his mind. There was no mistaking the implications behind your words. You were having unholy thoughts of a man, and you were asking your God to forgive you for wanting someone. For wanting to be intimate with someone. 

But then Tovar recalled your interactions with Thomas and William, and his heart grew heavy with anger because it wasn’t him you were thinking of. It couldn’t have been him. He’d managed to drive you away, and now you were thinking of someone else worshiping you, kissing you, touching you, perhaps even laying with you and coaxing the sweetest of sounds from your lips.

“My spirit...do you not know that you are the temple of God and that the Spirit of God dwells in you? If anyone defiles the temple of God, God will destroy him. For the temple of God is holy, which temple you are.” With those words, Tovar leaves you and returns to the camp, unable to listen to any more of your confessions, especially when he knew they were aimed towards someone else. He recalled what you said last and swore to himself, because he would never...could never tempt you to break your own religion, your sanctity. There were countless times where he wished he could reveal to you his feelings but tonight’s prayers reminded him why he will never have you the way he wished. It was not out of fear of, what was it, God’s destruction, but out of care for your own being, your soul. He cared for you too much.

It’s hours later when the company is moving closer to the city and you focus on the road ahead of you to try and ignore the way your heart skips a beat when you hear Tovar’s soft chuckle at one of William’s stuipd jokes. It was amazing how only the Irishman managed to make him laugh and you wished you could hear it more often but it was not possible and certainly not beneficial to you. You were snapped out of your thoughts when William called for you and asked you to slow down.

“You are sure he is in the next town over?” William inquired after the bounty you were currently looking for, a man who stole one of the local lord’s shipments that arrived from the Near East and was now recruiting more thieves to keep him safe. You took out the note which your contact sent you and showed it to William, about to suggest how you should carry out this bounty when Tovar snatched the paper from your friend’s hands to read it over before throwing it haphazardly his way.

“I would love to know how you came about this information princesa? What did you give your little amigo? Gold, or perhaps it was that honey you searched for everywhere, sí? Or maybe, just maybe...it was something far sweeter than honey.” Tovar knew he shouldn’t be taunting you any further, and certainly not with implications about your sanctity. Thankfully, William snatched the wineskin from your horse and smacked Tovar in his face, growling at him something in Spanish that caused Tovar to look to the side and frown at the floor. 

“I do apologize Y/N. You were saying?”

“I- umm, there was a...my God, I am sorry. The only thing I wished to suggest was to perhaps catch them outside of town so we wouldn’t cause any serious damage to anyone’s home or business. Now, if you’ll excuse me.” And with that, you squeezed the sides of your horse so he could gallop ahead and once you thought you were far enough, you took out your prayers and flipped through the pages. 

Tovar grudgingly followed you to try and apologize for his hurtful comments when he saw you praying again. 

“Lord, how they have increased who trouble me! Many are they who rise up against me. Many are they who say of me, “There is no help for him in God.” But You, O Lord, are a shield for me, my glory and the One who lifts up my head. I cried to the Lord with my voice, and He heard me from His holy hill...I- I will not be afraid of ten thousands of people who have set themselves against me all around. Save me, O my God.” You turn your head around when you feel a pair of eyes watching you, shaking your head when you find Tovar and William making plans while the rest of the company follow behind. No, he didn’t care.

“Why have you not apologized to her?”

“She was praying amigo, I- I cannot distract her when she...when she is having her moment with her God.” Tovar murmures and ignores the sarcastic laugh that erupts from his friend’s mouth.

“You truly are a piece of shit work Tovar. If you care for her this much, why not tell her? Or better yet, stop acting like an imbecile and treat her with kindness. Lord knows she’s too nice with you.”

“Mind your business, sí? You know nothing of what you speak.” Tovar warns his friend with a glare before he kicks his horse and races forward past you and the other men, not caring of how he’d managed to give himself away to William. You look up from your book just in time to see him swiftly moving past you and you’re worried for a moment, turning around to gauge William’s reaction, only to find him avoiding your gaze and pretending to focus on the trail ahead. 

The company reaches the edge of town long before noon and you listen to William as he lets everyone know of the plan. When everyone is sure of their position and part, you go with William and Tovar to the innkeeper and inquire after men that could offer their aid to you since you are to travel throughout the night by yourself and have heard of stories of bandits around these parts. As you wait around for an hour or so, Tovar can’t help but glance at you nervously, a part of him trying to come up with something to tell you that wasn’t filled with venom. You catch his eyes a few times and he turns away when you smile awkwardly at him, ignoring the way William rolls his eyes and nudges him. 

“I do not think they will come.” Tovar comments to himself and you are about to reassure him when you spot the man in question heading your way along with what you assumed were his new recruits.

“Greetings friends, and what a beautiful afternoon to you, my lady.” The man doesn’t give you a chance to step away from him, leaning down and taking hold of your hand before bringing it to his lips. You force a smile and nod towards him, completely missing the way Tovar was mentally killing the disgusting thief with a thousand daggers. 

“We understand you require assistance traveling through here?” The man speaks, his eyes occasionally turning towards you and shamelessly dragging over your figure. You pretend to not notice his actions and clutch the weapon around your back more tightly. 

“We do indeed. And we are willing to pay handsomely. The only problem is, we must leave now if we are to catch our employer before he leaves for his travels.” William speaks his lies with ease and you silently pray that the other men are as dumb as they look.

“And may I ask why your schedule is hurried?” The thief’s voice is much harsher and he stares between the three of you quizzically. 

“It’s quite embarrassing if I do say so myself but,” you gulp before stepping towards Tovar, intertwining your fingers with him before leaning forward and kissing his cheek. You feel Tovar’s hold tighten around your hand but you say nothing, instead throwing your head on his shoulder and wrapping your other palm around his hand as well. “It is slightly my fault...you see, we- oh god, we were wed three weeks ago and our wedding night lasted for- l-longer than we intended. I should say longer than I intended. And we realized too late how much time we lost so- so this is why we need to leave right immediately.” It takes every ounce of control in William not to laugh at the look on his friend’s face and he maintains a neutral expression when the men in front of him glance towards each other and blush.

Tovar, on the other hand, wishes for God to strike him down this instant because you are not only holding onto his rough hands, but you kissed him without thought. It’s embarrassing how hard he is quickly becoming underneath his clothes but the way your lips touched his scruffy cheeks caused his heart to skip a beat. He tried his hardest to rid you out of his thoughts but here you were, pretending to trip over your words as you lied to the men in front of you about how much time he supposedly spent between your thighs.

“Lucky man,” Tovar hears the man whisper to him as he winks and he’s one moment away from taking out his sword and swinging it. But then you’re raising his hand to your lips and kissing his knuckles and Tovar all but loses it. Against his better judgement, he turns to look at you and gulps when he finds you smiling up at him with a dangerous glint in your eyes, one that is filled with false hope and wishful promises. His nose flares when he sees you staring deeply into his brown orbs and he instantly turns away, not because he is afraid of you seeing how darkened his pupils became at your touch but because he refuses to see rejection on your expression when you finally notice how hideous he is, how disgusting the scar on his eye must appear up close. 

“Well then, in that case, lead the way, sir-?”

“Oh no sir, my name is William.” William cuts him off and turns to the two of you. 

“And I am Y/N, and this here is the love of my life, Pero Tovar.” You cheerfully respond and ignore the way Tovar clings onto your fingers. He forces a quick smile before he walks behind William, all the while trying to pretend he isn’t losing his soul to the touch of your soft skin on his. He quickly glances at you, his jaws tensing tightly when he finds you completely ignoring him and pretending to look elsewhere.

You can feel the anger shedding off of Tovar and you hope he wouldn’t completely bite your head off when you are alone again. But more importantly, you pray to God that he doesn’t feel your pulse because if he could, then he would know. He would know of everything, of your feelings towards him, of your desires, and finally, of how much you wished you had his last name. William looked towards the two of you a few times and decided to keep quiet until after this ordeal was finished. One glance at the way you refused to let go of his friend’s hands and he knew you were as much in love with Tovar as he was with you.

“Idiots.” William whispers to himself just as he reaches the edge of the forest. He motions with his hand as soon as he spots the three horses tied to the trees and you let go of Tovar’s hands to let the men know that you have arrived. Tovar clenches his fist tightly, already missing the touch of your palm against his own and how safe he felt with you at his side. He clears his throat and walks awkwardly towards the horses, pretending to check on the pouches hanging around. 

“Oh lovebirds, you should have stayed on your honeymoon.” Your smile falters as soon as the man and his friends remove their weapons and surround you. Turning around, you catch Tovar's eyes before he’s running towards you, his sword in one hand and his expression holding a thousand emotions. William whistles from behind you and you immediately hear the faint sounds of horses galloping through the woods. Unsheathing your daggers from their holsters, you plant your feet to the ground and dare one of the men to come forward. 

By the time the rest of the company arrives, you’ve already killed two of the men and are finding it difficult by the moment to fight the one in front of you. There were more of them than there were of you, something you hadn’t anticipated when you accepted this bounty. You’re trying your hardest not to get distracted but it has been a while since you’ve seen Tovar fight and as much as you hate to admit it, he looks absolutely breathtaking, with his eyes full of rage and his lips glistening from sweat and from how hard he’s biting them. 

“The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not w-want. He makes me lie down in green- green...GOD, green pastures. He leads me besides the still waters. He- he...William watch out- he restores my soul, he leads me in the paths of righteousness. For His name’s sake.” You’re reciting your prayers to ground yourself, swearing when you throw one of your daggers towards one of the men about to attack William from behind. You’re still trying to hold off one of the larger thieves from killing you when you spot the main bounty treading towards Tovar with a large dagger of his own. 

“No, Tovar!” You’re not thinking clearly as you manage to slit your attacker’s throat before running towards Tovar in time to catch the sharp edge of the weapon into your shoulder. Falling back onto the ground, you look up at the man and find him smiling disgustingly at you, already bringing out his other sword as he chases after you. You can’t find it in yourself to stand up and look away, silently praying to God in anticipation of what’s to come. 

“Yea, though I walk through the- the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for You are with m-me. Your rod and...and- Your staff, oh God...they comfort me.”

But nothing ever happens and you reluctantly look up in time to see Tovar holding a knife to the man’s throat. 

“Drop the knife amigo, or I will make you taste your own blood.” Tovar snarls out, all the while looking at you with something in his eyes that you're not quite sure of. The man listens to Tovar’s warning but doesn’t drop his smile, looking at the wound on your shoulder before turning to Tovar just as he ties his hands to his back.

“You are not truly married are you?”

“Cállate...hijo de puta madre.” You struggle to get up, frowning when Tovar swears at the man as he swiftly wraps his arms with rope, perhaps harder than needed. 

“This should be fun then.” You ignore the man’s remarks and look around, finding most of the wanted men either dead or tied to some tree. You catch William’s eyes and nod when he asks you if you will be alright.

“I don’t think I’ll be able to accompany you to the sheriff, William. Perhaps it’s best that you leave me here.” You groan in pain and ignore the way Tovar’s eyes are sweeping over your form. 

“It will take me a day’s journey. Tovar, you will stay with her.”

“No, William that’s not necessary. Please, I’ll- I’ll be fine.” You respond immediately, completely missing the deeper frown that takes over the Spaniard’s features. 

“We’ll be in the inn. See you amigo.” Your eyes widen in surprise at the response but you say nothing, instead walking around to collect your weapons in order to place them on your horse. Within minutes, the company is leading away whoever is alive and taking note of the few that were killed. You remain standing against a tree, holding onto your shoulder as you pray softly for relief. 

“You cannot ride to town like this. Come here.” Tovar grabs your wrist and brings you to a large boulder, pushing onto your other shoulder until you’re sitting down before he brings a small pouch from his horse.

“This will hurt a bit querida.” Tovar gently speaks to you, completely throwing you off with the tone of his voice and distracting you enough to pull out the knife. You scream in pain and reach for his thigh, digging your nails into the muscular flesh just as he throws away the dagger and takes out the wineskin.

“I do not need such vile drinks.” You spit out at him in anger, unable to hold back from crying as he murmurs something before he pours the expensive alcohol on your shoulder. You’re turning away from him and sniffing violently, trying to hold back from swearing at how rough he’s being.

“Vindicate me O Lord, for I have walked in my integrity, I have also trusted in- in...please, no more, it hurts.” You start praying but can’t continue when you feel Tovar ripping a part of your shirt in order to wrap the clean gauze better around your shoulder.

“Cállate...or better yet, keep praying for your God hermosa. Maybe he’ll reach down and help stop the bleeding. We both know you won’t thank me for this.” Tovar is trying his hardest to ignore the way you’re marking his thighs and he shakes his head when his thoughts become more unholy by the second. He imagines you sinking your nails into his skin under other circumstances but he’s brought back to the moment when you obey him and resume your prayers. 

“I have also trusted in the Lord, I shall not slip. Examine me, O- O Lord...and prove me, try my mind and my heart. Ahhh careful!” You’re crying again and it breaks Tovar’s heart to know that he is the reason behind your pain. He wants nothing more than to ask you why you stepped in front of him and took the dagger into your shoulder but he knows you’ll either lie or ignore his question should he inquire. He’s trying to finish swiftly so you aren’t left in the wood alone, or at least that’s what he says to himself so he doesn’t think of how soft and sweet your skin looks beneath his touch

“Stop your whining and take it. We wouldn’t be here if you hadn’t- hadn’t...mierda. No importa.” He grumbles again and looks up at you momentarily, only to find you staring at him with doe-like, innocent eyes. He swears he sees some form of affection pass through them but the expression is gone as soon as it comes and he forces himself to focus on your shoulder once more. He’d already cleaned it and wrapped the gauze around it, but he wants to make sure that the knot isn’t too tight or too loose. 

“For, for your lovingkindness is before my eyes...do not gather my soul with sinn- nghhh-” You moan in pain when he swipes his fingers over your bruised clavicle and the sound shoots straight to Tovar’s cock, causing him to clench his jaw tightly to prevent himself from acting on his desires. His eyes unintentionally hone in on the rosary around your neck and he gulps when his mind instantly imagines his hand wrapped around your throat and grasping onto the beaded chain as he fucks into you mercilessly until every living thing around knows who’s making you scream with pleasure.

“Lo siento.” He whispers to you as he meets your eyes again, and there’s a multitude of confessions in those two words but you choose to ignore them. You choose to ignore the way he looks at you with those hopeful eyes. You choose to pretend that you aren’t wishing for him to lean over and mold his lips with yours. You choose to ignore...so you wouldn’t have to leave him forever. 

“Redeem me and be merciful to me...be merciful to me. Be...be merciful to me.” Your repetition doesn’t go unnoticed by Tovar and he clears his throat before he stands up and helps you back onto your horse. The two of you ride back into town in silence, with Tovar occasionally slowing down to ensure that you aren’t close to unconsciousness. When you reach the edge of the forest, Tovar hops off of his horse and removes his belongings, taking the leather of his saddle and handing it to you before he speaks.

“I will find some lodging with the innkeeper, sí? And you can look around for someone to keep these two until William returns.” He rubs anxiously at his beard and waits for your response, nodding when you look around before replying to him.

“Yes.”

The Spaniard turns around and he only walks ahead ten feet before you’re calling for him. He turns around at the sound of his name and raises his eyebrows.

“Thank you. For caring for me.” You gulp at the intensity of his gaze and barely manage to hold contact with his brown eyes as he flashes you a quick, shy smile. You hadn’t expected to be at the receiving end of such an expression and you held onto the leather between your fingers tightly to try and ignore how fast your heart began to beat. How had you never noticed those dimples before? 

“De nada hermosa.” Tovar is backing away immediately and trying to ignore how his heart is violently beating at his chest from your words. He never thought the day would come where you would thank him for anything and hold such an amount of affection in your tone. But he quickly remembers the events of the last hour or so and shakes his head in irritation.

Why had you taken the dagger instead of him? 

You continue to watch him until he enters the inn, sighing heavily when it finally occurs to you that you might be having dinner with him alone tonight. Slowly making your way through the town, you thought of who you could possibly ask to care for your horses when you spotted a barnhouse just behind the church. When you reached the open door and looked inside, you shut your eyes in gratitude before getting off the horse and approaching the priest brushing a horse.

“Good afternoon Father,” you smile when the older man turns around and nods towards you.

“Good afternoon.” He says nothing else and you wait until he is finished with the task at hand before asking him if you could tie the two horses in the corner.

“My name is Y/N, and I am a- well, coin for hire...Father. And I was wondering if you would be kind enough and direct me to someone who could care for my friends here until the rest of my company arrives?” You nervously pick at the rosary around your neck when you notice him looking at the bible peeking out of your satchel.

“There’s no need, child. You can leave them here and I shall care for them.”

“Oh Father I couldn’t possibly ask you to-”

“Good thing you are not asking then.” He cuts you off with a smile before leading you out of the small barnhouse. 

“Are you otherwise occupied at the moment?” You ask him just as he moves to enter the church.

“I am not.”

“I- I wish to confess.” The older man notices your nervous stance and nods gently before asking you to follow him into the church. You follow behind him, not realizing that Tovar has already made reservations for the both of you and has come out in search of you. He spots you right before you enter the building, his eyes hardening almost instantly when he sees the priest speaking to you before you are both gone out of his sight. 

He walks towards the church but refuses to enter, instead waiting outside until you are finished. Not a few minutes pass and his patience wears out and he murmurs something beneath his breath as he enters the house of worship. You are nowhere in sight and he can’t help but marvel at the religiosity of the space, his eyes shifting instantly to the large cross hanging above the altar. Clearing his throat, he quietly makes his way to the front of the hall and looks up, taking a deep breath and shutting his eyes as he reluctantly falls to his knees. 

It has been long since Tovar spoke to the Almighty but he forces himself to ask for His guidance, if he can call it that, and hopes that he would one day be able to receive it. The moment ends as soon as it begins, however, when Tovar hears the faint sound of sniffling coming from the confession cubicle followed by the familiar sound of your voice. 

He knows he shouldn’t go near the private room. He knows that he has no business listening in on you confessing your deepest thoughts to the holy man. But he can’t stop his feet from carrying him towards the cubicle.

“I- you must know by now what I am required to do in my line of work Father.” Pero hears your soft voice through the quiet sniffles and he clutches the strap around his shoulder to prevent himself from walking into that room and pulling you into his arms. 

“Yes, but you know as well as I that you must voice your sins to me so God could forgive them.”

“I know. I am not sure where I could begin if I am being honest. I do not claim to have any excuses but I want you to know that I try not to kill anyone, not unless I have to. I have killed three men this morning. They were poor souls that stole and killed and needed to be stopped. It does not excuse what I have done but it is what happened.” 

“Let me ask you this, child. Do you kill out of anger? Out of jealousy? Out of hatred?”

“No, no never. I have never hurt anyone in my anger, at least I hope I haven’t. I killed them because they were going to kill me and my friends. I- it...it couldn’t be avoided.” Tovar wants to laugh at your innocence but he remains silent as he listens to the older man guide you through your troubles. If he had a priest like him back home, maybe he would have never strayed from God. 

“Then you have not sinned in the eyes of God. As long as you know the difference, then you are safe from the powers of satan...what else do you wish to confess?”

“There is...there is this man.” At that, Tovar’s eyes widen and he steps closer to the wooden panel to listen more closely. “And I- I have...I have dreams of him. Wicked dreams, images that do not escape me even when I wake.” Tovar bites into his lower lip when he feels his cock harden beneath his breeches and he fixes his clothes quietly before leaning his ears into the flimsy barrier.

“I dream of him almost every night Father and I pray to God every waking moment so he could take them away from me. But they only increase, so much so that I wake up sweating and heaving throughout the night. I do not wish to have such thoughts of him because-” You halt in your words and Tovar hates that even in your confession, you are choosing your words carefully.

“I do not want these dreams and I do not wish to think of him in the ways that I do. But I- I cannot help it Father. I don’t know what more I could do.”

“St. Paul writes in his first letter to the Thessalonians, ‘For this is the will of God, your sanctification: that you should abstain from sexual immorality.’ My child, sexual immorality does not only cover the physical actions of the body but the emotional and mental thoughts as well. It is better for you to come forward to this man than to remain in this sin.” Tovar almost growls at the response, hating how the priest validates your beliefs further. 

“That is not possible Father...as much as I wish it, I cannot.” 

They both remain quiet for a few moments and Tovar almost loses his mind when the silence extends. He shuts his eyes and clenches his fists tightly before running out of the church to the barnhouse, multiple curses falling through his lips when he realizes that he will never have a chance with you, especially now that he was certain you were thinking of another man. Unable to hold back any further, Tovar throws his things to the ground before moving to the back of the barnhouse. He stands behind a large tree and makes quick work of his breeches, hissing in anger when he finds himself painfully hard and already leaking precum. Throwing his head back, he spits onto his hand before taking his cock roughly in his palm. Pero moans when he squeezes the crown of his hard dick, his mind finding it much easier to conjure up images of you writhing beneath him in bed now that he knew of your dreams. 

He wishes you had been more detailed, no matter how wrong and inappropriate that would have been. He pictures you sweating and heaving on your hands and knees as he drives his cock deeper into you with every thrust. Tovar’s groans grow louder as he increases his pace and he shivers in need when he imagines you begging for him to take you, to touch you and kiss your tits and perhaps fill you with his seed. The thought of you letting him rule over your body brings him closer to his pleasure and he cries out pathetically as he cums onto the ground, your name like a sweet benediction on his lips as he continues to rub his cock. Pero finally opens his eyes and looks to the blue sky, hissing in regret and feeling a sense of disgust settle into his stomach. He quickly fixes himself and silently asks for your forgiveness, for violating you in his mind and for listening to your confessions. Breathing in the clean scent of the grass, he moves back to the barnhouse and washes his hand quickly before taking his satchel and walking to the shop in front of the church to wait for your return. 

Unbeknownst to Pero, the priest in fact chooses to ask you a more personal question than necessary, inquiring after your strange answer as to why it was not possible to approach this man you speak of.

“He does not love me as I love him. He- he cannot stand the sight of me. I am not sure what I had done to deserve such hatred from him but- it is what it is, Father.”

“You love him.” It was more of a statement than a question and the priest can’t help but shake his head in sadness as he continues to listen to you.

“I do. I love him dearly.” You wipe the tears as they fall down your cheeks, looking towards the light coming through the small window before returning your gaze to the ground again. 

“Hmm...Ask, and it will be given to you; seek, and you will find; knock, and it will be opened to you. For everyone who asks receives, and he who seeks finds, and to him who knocks it will be opened.” 

“Father?” You look towards the barrier between you and the priest quizzically, hoping he would explain his response further.

“I will give you an absolution Y/N, but- I cannot help but think that you may have been asking God for the wrong thing. You ask Him to take away these dreams yet you never pray that this man returns your love or, at the very least, become less hostile towards you?” There is almost a humorous tone to the older man’s words and you raise an eyebrow in curiosity because he was right. Granted, it is the last comment you expect from a man of God but it wouldn’t hurt to listen to him.

“N-no.”

“You are correct in wanting to rid yourself of these thoughts, for they are most unholy and they will only lead you to eternal hellfire. But you might find it in your best interest if you pray that God opens the eyes of this man. Ask to know the truth of his feelings and why he chooses to be the way he is. And you shall know the truth, and the truth shall make you free.” You wait for a few moments before you ask him to give you the absolution. When you walk out of the church a few minutes later, you find it much easier to breathe and you can’t help but think about the priest’s suggestion. Maybe you have been going about this all wrong?

You spot Tovar in the shop in front of the church, but not wanting to bother him, you turn around and move to the barnhouse to brush your horse. Leaning against your horse, you kiss its neck and comb through its hair as you try to push the pain in your shoulder aside. Ignoring the sting of your muscles, you pick up the brush and proceed to massage your horse all the while replaying the priest’s suggestions through your mind. 

When Pero looks up and sees the priest standing at the front of the church and speaking to a young girl, he lets go of the cloth in his hand and moves out of the shop, scanning the street for you. When he doesn’t find you anywhere, he slowly approaches the priest and waits until the young girl leaves before he clears his throat.

“Padre.”

“Yes?”

“There was a woman who entered the church a while ago. She is dressed like me. Have you seen where she went?” Pero is uncomfortable but he tries his hardest to not turn away from the priest’s piercing gaze. He is unsure how you managed to speak to him but he quickly remembers of the barrier between the two of you. But he frowns when the priest doesn’t respond and instead stares at him for a while.

“She is in the barnhouse.” The older man narrows his eyes at Tovar before he turns around and walks back into the church. Tovar is confused and a tad bit annoyed but he thinks nothing of the weird interaction. He scratches his beard as he approaches you, about to let you know that your room would probably be prepared when he finds you whispering to the large animal. He stands at the foot of the door and leans back, finding it calming to watch you interact with the horse.

“He shall send from heaven and save me, he reporaches the one who would swallow me up. God shall send forth His mercy and His truth. My soul is among lions, I lie among the sons of men…” Tovar sighs in irritation when his mind chooses to misunderstand your words yet again and he shakes his head as he swears at himself. 

“My soul is bowed down. They have dug a pit before me, into the midst of it they themselves have fallen. My heart is steadfast, Oh God, my heart is steadfast...ahh, ah- gah…” Pero snaps out of his haze when he hears your cries right as you drop the brush from your hand and fall to the ground. He is beside you in an instant, turning you around and resting you against the wall. 

“Pero…” His expression eases almost instantly when he hears his name on your lips. You’ve rarely used it and he finds himself wishing he could ask you to repeat it over and over again.

“Let me look at the wound-” He asks as he tries to loosen the knot to check on the wound but he senses a shift in your demeanor as soon as his fingers trail over your skin. You gasp at the touch of his hand and move away from him, unable to control the stabbing sensation in your stomach when you feel heat radiating off of his body. Tovar misunderstands your reaction and he looks away shamefully before he steps back. 

“How can I help?” He tries to remain neutral but he is hurt that you think he would ever touch you inappropriately without your consent. 

“I- I umm, the- the lodging.” Your throat suddenly feels dry and you look up in time to see Tovar’s eyes taking in your heaving chest. Struggling to stand up, you grab your belongings and tighten your hold around the small Bible in your satchel, unsure of what to say as the man in front of you continues to stare at you.

“Sí,” Pero responds quietly before he moves out of the barnhouse, ignoring the sounds of harsh breaths emitting from behind him as he makes his way to the inn. You try to catch up with him but eventually fall behind, and you can’t find it in yourself to ask him to slow down so you opt to keep your eyes on him as he moves through the crowded market. When it becomes too difficult to walk, you move towards a stand and rest on it, finally realizing that the dagger must have been laced with a poison. You’re not sure how long you stay leaning against the wall until a pair of hands shake you to consciousness.

“Hermosa, can you hear me?” You open your eyes and find Tovars’ handsome features laced with worry. It occurs to you that the poison might have a hallucinogen because there was no way on earth that this man would ever feel such worry towards you. 

“T-tovar...I- I’m not feeling too good.” You whisper right as your eyes flutter closed but you’re instantly awake once more when you feel Tovar lean down and take you up in his arms. You’re struggling to breathe but force yourself to look at the Spaniard as he rushes through the street. 

“Stay with me querida, por favor.” His voice is frantic yet caring and you don’t take notice of what you’re doing until you feel his eyes on you again as he comes to a halt. 

“Why- why do you hate me?” Pero can’t breathe for a second, not when your hand is skimming over his cheek while the other one rests above his heart, the same one that breaks when your question finally hits his ears. “I- I wish you didn’t...so I could show you how much I- oh, n-no...so we would-” You don’t get to finish your sentence though and Pero watches as you clasp onto your shoulder when it begins to bleed again.

“Mierda,” he hisses as he resumes running towards the inn, not bothering to provide an explanation to the innkeeper as he rushes up the stairs and into the room reserved for you. The man comes behind him and quickly asks him how he could be of service when he sees Tovar undoing the gauze and swearing when the wound appears more inflamed than before. 

“Do you have a healer in this town?”

“Right away sir.” Pero wets a towel before bringing it to your forehead just as the innkeeper fetches a young boy to call for someone. You’re writhing violently and Tovar blames himself for not being careful earlier in the day. It feels like hours have passed by when a knock sounds through the door and in comes the priest.

Anger rises in Tovar’s chest as he walks up to the priest, prepared to draw his sword and kick him out. 

“I did not ask for you, I need a-”

“I am a healer son, of all ailments. Please let me pass or your friend will not have much time.” The priest speaks with patience and he waits until Pero moves to the side before he brings out his tonics and ointments. 

“What caused this?” The priest asks as he removes the gauze completely and attempts to clean around the wound before he decides which ointment was best. 

“A dagger, we were...after some men and I- I was not...she took it instead of me Padre.” The priest grows silent at the odd remark. He is about to ask if the weapon was laced with anything when he notices a strange green substance forming on the edges of the wound. He instantly recognizes the poison and shakes his head. 

“S-save me oh God, for- for the waters have come...come up to my neck. I s-sink in deep mire where- where...where there is no standing. I have come into d-deep, oh god...deep waters. Where the floods overflow me.” You whisper through a haze, vaguely aware of a gentle hand treating the wound on your shoulder before it ceases to move. 

“May god have mercy on your soul…” Pero almost loses all control when he hears the priest’s prayer. 

“Will she die?” He steps forward and asks just as the older man begins to apply a heavy tonic onto the wound. You’re hissing and groaning for a few moments before your frown relaxes just as the priest applies new gauze to the wound. 

He waits until you’ve calmed down before he collects his things and asks Tovar to meet him outside. When they both leave and lock the door behind them, the Priest looks away from the angry Spaniard.

“Padre, please, tell me. Will she die?”

The priest is about to answer when he hears you crying through the door.

“My eyes fail while I- I...please, God...while I wait for my God. Oh God...my sins are not hidden from You, oh Lord...my prayer is to You. Oh God- please...T-tovar- I need...please...deliver me out of the mire and let me- not...not sink. Hear me Oh Lord…”

Pero tries to ignore your cries but he feels his heart give out with each whimper that escapes your lips. And then you call his name and ask for him and he all but loses it, hands shooting to the knob to turn it. He stops, however, when he feels the Priest pull him back.

“It is not wise to go in there my son.”

“Let go of me.” Tovar snaps at the older man, rolling his eyes when he feels the hold around his shoulder tighten.

“There will be many consequences to your actions if you go in there...the dagger that she was stabbed with...it, well, it held a dangerous...aphrodisiac.” Pero’s eyes widen in surprise and shock when he registers the words of the priest and he steps back from the door while looking to the floor.

“If you can go in there and care for her without touching her, then by all means,” Tovar gulps when the priest motions for him to walk right through the room, eyebrows furrowing in frustration when he listens into your pained noises, “but I must warn you to not lust after her beauty in your heart...not let her allure you with her eyelids.”

“Take your proverbs elsewhere Padre, they will not find seed in this heart. How dare you think me of such actions when she’s not aware?” Tovar angrily points at his chest as he continues to pace back and forth, trying to calm himself down as he continues to hear you moaning through the door. 

“Draw near to my soul and redeem it...deliver me because- because...oh Pero. Pero, please. I need you, please. I want you...I crave your touch...your- your lips. I need to feel your skin against mine. Please...pl- oh God, please.” 

“If not for your sake then for hers. You shall not commit adultery. She is a child of God.”

“Was it not her God that allowed for this?” Pero yells at the priest as he moves across the hallway and kicks the wall. He waits for the priest to respond and huffs sarcastically when he doesn’t and remains silent. 

“Answer my question Padre, will she die if- if she remains untouched?” 

“I am not certain...but you must think of your soul as well, no? Whoever looks at a woman to lust for her has already committed adultery with her in his heart.” The priest approaches Tovar reluctantly, immediately stepping back when he sees his shoulders tense at his words. 

“Padre, for your sake, I need you to reserve your gospel for someone else. I do not care for my salvation, and if you must know, I have committed adultery a thousand times with her in my heart. I have no need for your absolution nor do I seek God’s forgiveness.” He isn’t sure what brings him to such a confession but he watches the man of God nod silently as he moves away with disappointment written on his features. 

“Then there is nothing more for me to tell you except this...if you do not walk in there and- aid her, she might not make it through the night. But, if you do, then you will have to live with the consequences of your actions. I cannot give you, nor her, my blessings for such immoral activities. May God have mercy on your souls and guide your heart.” Tovar turns away when the priest walks past him and down the stairs. He grasps his sword tightly to try and ground himself, but then the faint groans ringing through the small room bring him back to reality. 

He’s ashamed of how many times he’s thought of this moment. But not once did he think he’d ever refuse to lay with you. Yet here he was, forced to make a decision that would ultimately hurt both of you. If he doesn’t help you, he might lose you forever and he would never forgive himself as long as he lives. But if he does help you, he’d risk losing your trust and your company, and would perhaps never see you again. He’d have to live with the knowledge that you hate him. But you would be alive and well...

There was no doubt in his mind what he needed to do. 

Tovar looked down at his hands and blinked in regret. The last thing he wished to do was to willingly hurt you. But he couldn’t let you die, especially when it was him that the dagger was meant for.

Taking a deep breath, he musters up enough courage to turn around and unlock the door, not bothering to look at you as he enters the room and shuts the wooden barrier behind him. Taking his weapons off of his person, Tovar clears his throat and slowly turns to look at you, his eyes taking in your desperate form as you fisted your hands into the sheets and stared at him with heavy-lidded eyes. 

“P-Pero...god, I- you’re here. Please, I n-need you. You- you’re too far, please, need you, want you...want to feel you. Your- oh Christ, your skin, your l-lips...your tongue- your hands...need you, inside me...please.” Pero almost chokes on his saliva when your desperate words hit him and he remains grounded in his spot as he licks his lips. His cock twitches in his breeches when he notices your disheveled clothing, and he realizes that you must have tried to take it all off but couldn’t tug hard enough. He looks at your exposed neck and clenches his jaw when he sees the rosary nestled perfectly between your sweaty breasts.

Fuck. He knew he didn’t have a chance in heaven but looking at you now, with your body calling for him, he realized there was no chance in hell for him either. Not with what he was thinking of doing to you.

Slowly approaching you, he stood above your shivering form and gently brushed your hair aside, hissing in anger when he found you hot to the touch. There was so much he wanted to say and he figured this was his chance considering how you would probably not recall this night when you wake up the following day.

“Hermosa, I- perdóname. Forgive me for everything I have done to you...and for everything I will do to you tonight.” Tovar’s heart clenches when you take his hand and bring it to your mouth, kissing and nipping and the skin of his palm and wrist until you couldn’t take it anymore. It breaks him knowing that those gentle touches are born out of a hazed necessity and not because you wanted to kiss him. 

“Please...be merciful to me.” Your words echo from earlier through the tense silence and Tovar hates how he longs to hear you pray for him instead. Stepping away from you, he holds his hands up and shushes you as you start to whine again, whispering sweet words down to your aching soul as he strips himself of his garments. You find it difficult to wet your throat and attempt to take off your clothes as well, almost breaking into tears when you continue to struggle with the long-sleeve shirt and your trousers. 

“Here, let me.” You feel your skin crawl with ants when Tovar begins to undo the laces and buttons of your garments, and you find it hard to look away when all you are met with is gentleness and determination. At some point, you swear his hands are shaking and your hazed mind mistakes it for rejection but there isn’t enough consciousness left for you to apologize to him so instead, you grasp on his forearms and dig your nails into his muscles as he rids you of the dampened fabrics hugging your shaking body.

Tovar tries his hardest to not pounce on you as soon as more of your skin is revealed to him and he silently prays for patience when your touches turn rough. He throws everything onto the chair near the bed and returns to you, inhaling deeply when he sees how soaked your chest band and undergarments have become. He’s standing in nothing but his own breeches and he can’t help it when he fixes himself through the fabric, smiling to himself when you whine at the not-so-subtle movement and mirror his actions. He growls when he sees you cup your mound and rub harshly to try and relieve some of the pain. 

“No.” The single command shoots straight to your aching cunt and you instantly remove your hand from your heated skin, looking up at him and silently begging him to take you right then and there. “No, you do not touch yourself when I am here. Your pleasure belongs to me. Your noises...they belong to me, your arousal...every last drop of it, belongs to me. Sí?” You nod frantically and sigh in relief when he moves onto the bed, a little annoyed that he is yet to take off all of his garments. He gently parts your thighs and kneels between them, smiling to himself when he sees your flesh responding so easily to his touch. A part of him feels horrible for what he is thinking but he can’t help but fill his chest with pride at the thought of knowing that no one else has touched you like this, let alone seen you so wrecked and positively...sinful.

“Magnífico,” your hold on the sheets beneath you tighten as more words of his mother tongue roll off of his lips and you bite down on your hand when he pushes your legs up towards you to open you up for him a little more. It’s absolutely filthy what Tovar is doing and he is aware that he should be more gentle with you, perhaps move slowly since you have never had such contact with a man before, but he can’t bring himself to hold back, not when you were looking at him with those pleading, innocent eyes. 

He leans down and shuts his eyes as he pushes his nose into your undergarment, moaning lewdly when he fills his nostrils with the scent of you. 

“Dios mío...your smell querida, it’s as sweet as honey.” Tovar mumbles against your heat, smiling devilishly when he notices your eyes widen with embarrassment at his comment. In the blink of an eye, he’s fingering the edge of the flimsy material and violently pulling it off of you, throwing it behind him haphazardly before he sinks in between your thighs again. He doesn’t give you enough time to prepare for him as he hungrily licks at your wet pussy. You briefly think you should feel ashamed for what he’s doing to you, or perhaps beg him to not be so forward and filthy with his sounds. But the thoughts roll away when he growls against your slit and your back arches painfully off of the bed when you feel his tongue licking into your heat. You aren’t sure how to convey to him the immense pleasure he is bringing to you so you settle for grabbing his hair and screaming his name over and over again. The sting his scruff is offering you soothes the pain in your muscles and you silently pray for him to become a little more aggressive with his touches. 

Tovar becomes a crazed man when he hears the way his name falls from your tongue like a prayer and he grabs your hips harshly before bringing you closer to his mouth. He continues to look at you as he tongue-fucks your cunt, unable to comprehend how this moment was real. He closes his eyes again to savor the taste of your juices flowing so easily into his mouth and moves one hand to your backside, squeezing and slapping your ass as he zeroes in on that bundle of nerves. Your hold on his hair tightens but Tovar enjoys being at the receiving end of those rough touches. He continues to lap at your cunt, occasionally switching to sucking on your little nub until you let go of his hair and grab at the sheets. 

Pero feels you coming on his tongue but he can’t find it in himself to stop, wanting to commit every single moment to memory. He momentarily moves away to nip at your thighs and just as you’re beginning to come down from your high, he shoves two fingers past your slit and returns to mouth at your clit. 

You try to sit up on the bed but one hand across your navel pushes you back down again. You aren’t sure if you want him to stop or keep going but you feel that familiar tug at your lower stomach again and before you know it, you’re hitting that delicious peak once more. You aren’t aware of what happens when you fall back down again though. All you can feel is your body shaking and your chest heaving as Pero refuses to let you close your legs. 

At some point, he finally shows you mercy and removes himself from you, and it takes you a few moments to open your eyes and will yourself to look at him. Your lips part in shock when you see Tovar licking his arms like a starved man, not realizing what has happened until you look down and see the soaked sheets beneath you. You’re mortified and attempt to close your legs but Tovar stops your movements with a dangerous smirk, raising an eyebrow as he looks down and sees his chest also soaked with your juices. You turn away from him and try to hide behind your arm but he’s falling on top of you and removing your hand before he turns your chin so you could finally meet his gaze. 

“My delicious little princesa...don’t shy away from me cariño. I want you, all of you...whatever you wish to give me.” A small part of you is aware that he is only speaking those words to put you at ease and help you through your predicament, but a more desperate corner of your mind tells you that he meant every word he said and that you should trust him. You’re aware of how dangerous this could be but you can’t find it in yourself to care as you lean up and kiss his chapped, plump lips. Tovar is taken aback from your forwardness but he meets your motions with as much vigor, lapping and sucking on your tongue until he feels your hips meet his shallow thrusts. You moan lewdly when his clothed cock pushes against your heated core and Tovar takes this chance to shove his tongue into your mouth, not caring for how messy and how unskilled you were. He would teach you tonight, even if it was the only night he would spend with you. 

When your fingers tangle in his hair and pull it on, Tovar growls and pushes up away from you. You have a few seconds to prepare for the onslaught of his hands as he attempts to rip the chest band off of your body. He is silent when you are finally naked to his eyes and you feel self-conscious from how quiet he’s grown. You move to cover yourself but Tovar is taking hold of your wrists and slamming them above your head, eyes boring into your hazed ones before he descends on your breasts. You throw your head back when you feel his tongue swirling roughly around your nipple, arching your back further into him when he pinches and twists the other one between his calloused fingers. You’re torn between begging him to slow down and screaming for him to take whatever he wants. It seems that Tovar knows what you crave though because he nips at the hardened peaks until you’re writhing beneath him. He looks away for only a second to take in how absolutely wrecked you look before he takes the other nipple in between his lips and sucks on it, groping the other and not caring for how wet and messy he’s left you. 

His treatment of your body only makes you more needy for him and as you’re about to beg him to give you his cock, Tovar pulls off of you before swallowing your moans again, keeping both of his hands on your tits and playing with them as you gave yourself over completely to him. It creeps up on you without warning and you’re screaming his name as you feel your cunt clench around nothing. Tovar pulls off of you and watches as your body shakes with pleasure at his ministrations, smirking when he sees the rosary sliding against your heaving chest. It’s almost taunting how it looks back at him but he pays it no mind. He swears in his mother tongue when he looks down and sees your cunt contracting violently and gushing more arousal. You’re finding it difficult to breathe as his fingers trail down to your thighs and push them further so he could take a better look at you.

“Did...did you just-” Tovar isn’t able to finish his question because the look you’re giving him is anything but innocent, and your little nod is the perfect boost for his ego because he’d just managed to make you cum from only touching your tits. He’s distracted when he sees your hands inching towards the tent in his clothes and he doesn’t stop you when he feels the warmth of your palm seeping through and engulfing his cock. You’re tugging and squeezing with curiosity in your eyes and Tovar loses his patience, slapping your hands away as he just manages to take the last article off. He’s kneeling in between your legs and smiles to himself when he sees your widened expression at the size of him. 

“Don’t worry princesa, I’ll go slow...for now.” Goosebumps erupt on your skin at the implications behind his words and you’re snapped back to reality when you notice that Tovar stretched his hand and kept it against your lips. 

“Escupe,” you have no clue what he just said but when he opens your lips and shoves his fingers into your mouth, you get an idea of what he wants. Reluctantly, you spit in the palm of his hand and grip the sheets tightly when he keeps his gaze on you and spits on the same palm as well right before spreading the mixed juices across your slit. You’re turned on by his forwardness and brace yourself for what’s to come, already feeling your stomach burn with need when he takes longer and touches himself. You watch as he coats his cock with your juices, mind slowly falling into a haze when you see how he tugs and rubs the aching tip of his dick. 

“Are you ready for me mi amor?” He’s massaging your inner thighs, eyes keeping you captivated as you nod and inhale deeply in preparation for him. Tovar sighs as he takes your hand in his before he slowly inches his cock into your cunt. The two of you are hissing and Tovar thinks he’s died and gone to heaven with how tight you feel around him. He nudges further into you and continues to whisper in Spanish when he feels your muscles tense.

“Relax for me querida, please. I could make you feel so good. Relájate. Don’t want to hurt you mi cielo.” He leans down and gently rubs at your neck, licking and kissing down your shoulder until he feels you ease around him. Moments later, he can feel you twisting beneath him and he realizes that you’re telling him you’re ready. Without a warning, Pero snaps his hips and sheathes himself fully inside you, his cock twitching at the whines and whimpers you were whispering in his ears when he broke your barrier. He’s trying his hardest to remain still so he doesn’t hurt you but then you’re wrapping your arms around his neck and molding your lips with his. It should not have been like this, he thinks. But he let’s his selfishness take over because if this were to be the only time you’d ever let a man touch you, then he was glad it was him and not someone else. Someone whom he knew would never feel this deeply towards you. 

“Please...move, I need- I want...it hurts. I want you to move Pero...oh god, Pero..Pero, you’re so...so hard for me. Feel so full, oh Christ, feels so good.” There’s something about hearing you moan his name along with the name of your God that makes him feral and he sits back up again, taking hold of your hips and ensuring that your eyes are on him before he pulls out and thrusts his cock back in. You dig your nails into the bed when you feel every ridge and vein passing against your walls, biting into your lower lip to stifle your moans. 

“Fuck...eres perfecto.” Tovar wanted to savor every moment, to commit this to memory so he would revisit this night time and again until his life on earth was finished. But he couldn’t hold back, couldn’t go slow even if he tried, not with how tight you were clenching around him and how wet you became the harder he filled you with his cock. You were a sight to behold, face scrunching up in pain and pleasure, some drool rolling from the corner of your lips as you sighed and begged him to take whatever he wanted from your body. 

“Better than any fucking dream hermosa...mierda, I- I could spend an eternity between your thighs and never wish to leave. You’re, fuck fuck ah f-fuck...you’re so much better than what I imagined. So sweet, so warm...and so- goddamn- tight.” He pronounced every word with a harsh thrust of his hips and you cried out as he took his pleasure and coaxed another orgasm out of your pussy. You grabbed his forearms when you felt your stomach flutter, and threw your head back when Tovar noticed you coming undone once more. He picked up his pace, switching his attention from your facial expressions to where you were joined. Letting go of one hip, he spat on his thumb before laying it on your clit and rubbing furiously to prolong your peak. You barely managed to open your eyes, turning to look at him as he continued his assault on your skin. Your chest tightened at the thought of never being with him again but you forced yourself to not think of the following day. There was tonight, and you would take everything and give him all that he wanted. After all, there was no truth behind his words, just the heat of the moment. Or perhaps it was him speaking of his triumph over you, someone he’s loathed for wasting her time on what he called a ‘false God.’ 

“P-pero...yes, oh- Pero, Pero...fuck, please.” 

Pero held your gaze as he let go of your waist and fell on top of you, one hand quickly wrapping around your throat as he pushed agonizingly slowly into you. There was something different in his eyes and you weren’t sure if it was affection or despise but you looked away from him instantly, afraid he’d see how you feel about him. Tovar misunderstood your fear for disgust and he snarled in anger as he tightened his hold around your throat until you turned to him again. He met your lips with an aggressive kiss and continued to push his cock deeper into you until he felt your nails digging into his back. He swore when they trailed down his muscles to his backside, forcing him to thrust a little quickly. 

“Who knew princesa...that you were nothing but a filthy fucking whore. Begging to be fucked...to be filled over and over again. Shit, this cunt, so tight and wet for me...you’ve no idea how much I craved this...craved you, to touch you, kiss you, mark you as my own...my whore, my innocent whore.” His words should have hurt, but you found yourself growing wetter just from hearing him call you his. But it was the twisting of the knife to hear him confess of how he craved you. You knew as well as he that this was far from the truth. But you found yourself ignoring the heartache just to enjoy him and the sensation of his skin sliding against yours in the throws of passion. 

“You’re getting close again cariño...fuck, I could- ahh ahh, could feel you swallowing my cock sweetheart. Come on, cum for me. Cum for me one more time, let me feel you coming on my cock like the good little girl you are. Please, mi amor…” It was almost as if your body had a mind of its own because at his words, the familiar knot in your navel untwisted and you arched into him as you came with a silent cry, hand grasping to the one holding your throat and pushing down on it to make him grip you tighter. 

Tovar shuts his eyes and nuzzles into the crook of your neck, refusing to reveal any more of himself to you. You’ve rejected him several times and he couldn’t bear the thought of thinking him more of a monster as he reached his pleasure. 

“Oh god, oh fuck, I- mi amor. Te amo más de lo que nunca sabrás. Ah, god f-ffu…” Against your better judgement, you let go of his hand and push them into his hair, forcing him to look at you right before you met his lips. He’s growling and almost sobbing with want as he fills you with his seed, never once halting in his movements as he pushes his cock deeper inside you. You lose yourself into the kiss, unable to put together a coherent thought as you feel warmth spread where you are joined. This kiss is more desperate, and you’re not sure if it’s because of Tovar or because of you. 

His chest tightens painfully when he looks at you and sees tears in your eyes. He’s not sure if you’re crying because of him and he’s about to ask when you push him off of you and onto his back. Maybe you’ve finally come to your senses and wanted him t-

Tovar chokes on air when you slither between his legs and take his cock between the warmth of your hands, not giving him a chance to say anything as you lean down and take him in your mouth. “Hermosa, you- oh fuck, you don’t have t- oh gah.” He’s twisting your hair in his hand when you try to take him as far back in your mouth as you could. It’s messy and filthy and you’re inexperienced but he finds your attempts to pleasure him the most beautiful sight in the world. He can see cum and saliva rolling down the corners of your mouth and he grows harder at the thought of you tasting yourself and him on your tongue. 

He swears you might be the devil incarnate when you take him out of your mouth and kiss the underside of his cock. It’s such an innocent gesture but his cock twitches, and then you’re licking across the protruding veins and he all but loses it. 

“Shit, you l-look so beautiful mi amor, mouth full of my cock. Can you taste yourself? Go on, tell him how we taste...please, tell me.” You continue to mouth and nip at him, occasionally massaging the base of his cock and biting into his thighs when his hold tightens around your hair. 

Tovar feels his cock harden the more you give it attention and he begrudgingly pulls you off so you could answer him. 

“Tell me mi amor.” 

You’re not sure why you choose those words and you hope he understands the implications behind him without you needing to bare your soul to him any further

“As tempting as death…” 

The words are an arrow piercing his heart and he shuts his eyes for a few moments to collect his bearings before he’s roughly pulling you off of him and bringing you to his lips.

“Ven aquí y bésame! I want to taste us.” He shoves his tongue into your mouth and hums in approval when he can vaguely taste his seed and your arousal mixing with your scent. He’s not sure what brings him to do this but Tovar pulls back far enough and he maintains eye contact as he spits into your mouth, biting into his lower lip as he watches you make a show of swallowing his spit. You part your lips and breathe in his natural musk before you lean over and kiss his jaw. Momentarily distracted by your sudden need to show him affection, Tovar doesn’t notice you moving up his chest until your lips are trailing up the scar across his eye. He shakes in need when you kiss it over and over again, whispering quick apologies and wishing you could have been there to prevent him from being hurt. 

Tovar is no longer able to discern what it is you’re feeling. One minute you’re hiding yourself and turning away from him, and the next, you’re worshiping his cock and his scars as if he was yours. He decides to blame it on the poison and the wound-

The wound.

Pero pushes on your neck harder than he intends and he apologizes when he’s met with a shocked, hurt expression.

“Lo siento mi amor…” He whispers kindly to you as his eyes take in the wound on your shoulder, sighing in relief when he sees that the Priest covered it well. Little amount of blood managed to seep through the coverings but it wasn’t enough to alarm him. “I needed to ensure you aren’t hurt, forgive me hermosa.” Tovar explains again and watches as you visibly relax against him. 

“Come here,” you obey him as he pulls you into his arms and lays behind you, telling you to rest before the poison takes hold of you once more. You feel rejected, wishing you could tell him that the fire in your stomach and your lungs is returning already. But he’s done so much for you throughout the night and he deserved more than this. More than you. It wasn’t his duty to aid you through such a circumstance and yet he took it upon himself to do so.

Tovar wraps his arms around you and hopes you don’t pay any mind to his already hardening cock. He wants to slide into your cunt again and fill you up, but he doesn’t want to take more advantage of you. Not when you were hurt and vulnerable.

You try to get some shuteye, and you do for a little while, but you’re no longer able to quiet down when you begin to feel your skin crawling with ants. You’re sweating again, and your breaths are coming in quickly when you finally wake up and feel the pins and needle pain jabbing in your lower stomach. It’s your little whine that breaks Tovar’s daydreaming and he’s turning you around to take a better look at you.

“What’s the matter mi amor? Did I- did I hurt you?” You’re shaking your head violently at him as you’re turning in his arms and before he could try to figure out what it is you want, you’re getting on your hands and knees, ass in the air and face turned to him with an expression that he’s never seen before. 

He gulps at the sight before him and looks at you, rubbing at the scruff of his beard before his eyes widen in shock when he sees your hand reaching down and swiping across the mess seeping out of your cunt.

“I need you Pero, need you to- fuck me. Please, fuck me. Mark me and fill me up with your seed. Want you to use me for your pleasure, use me however you want. I- I can take it. Just- need your cock.” The sound of your pleas is music to his ears and Tovar is moving to kneel behind you in the blink of an eye. He kisses your lower back as his hand pushes down between your shoulder blades until your face is flush against the dampened sheets. You shiver when he trails his fingers up and down your back, smiling when he nips and kisses your round ass cheeks. Tovar bites into the skin of your backside and lightly spanks you when you try to jump away from him.

“My pretty girl wants me to fuck her again. You’re so wet for me hermosa, so ready and needy. Tell me, tell me how much you crave my cock.” He takes hold of his dick and swipes it between your slit, chuckling to himself when he sees the way you’re looking at him.

“Pero, don’t- please don’t tease. I burn for you, ‘ve dreamt of- oh I, I need your cock inside me. I really need you to fuck me, to- to-” You’re tripping over your words and Tovar knows he shouldn’t blame you for your lack of coherence but he’s living for how crazed you are. He pushes his cock into your fluttering walls and doesn’t miss how awfully tighter you feel around him this time around. You’re shaking with lust but only scream his name when you feel the palm of his hand landing on your ass one time after another as he fucks you without remorse. You lose count of how many times he spanks your ass and you don’t care because as soon as he stops and slips his other hand down to your clit, you’re seeing stars and groaning as pleasure courses through your veins. 

Tovar hisses at how tightly your cunt clenches around him and he’s suddenly in need of feeling your skin against his. Shoving his hand into your hair, he violently pulls on it until your back is flush to his chest. 

“That’s it querida, scream for me. Scream my name mi amor, so- fuck ah ah shit, so everyone knows who fucks you like the filthy whore you are. Go on cariño, sing for me. Feel me, pray for me. Dios mío, I’m- I won’t last mi cielo. You’re too good, too sweet, my heaven. Everything my heart desires...yearns for, lives for. Oh fuck, oh god- go on mi amor, cum for me. One more time, please. Need to feel you squeeze my cock one last time...just once, please. Fuck ah fuck I-” Tovar bites down on your shoulder as he thrusts into you, his rhythm forgotten as he fills your womb with his seed. You’re a quivering mess in his arms, relishing the harsh touch of his scruff on your heated skin. He moans your name when he feels you contracting around him, one arm wrapped around your chest and cupping your tits while the other is twirling around the rosary on your neck. 

You lose all sense of reality and time as Tovar slowly pushes you to your side, his cock somehow still hard in your cunt. You’re both heaving when Tovar takes the rosary from around your neck and holds it in the palm of his hand. 

You’re dozing off again but a harsh pinch to your nipples brings you back and you’re turning around just in time to see Tovar licking the beads that go around your neck before he drags the rosary down your skin. You’re not sure what he’s playing at until you feel the individual beads twirling in the mess of your combined juices. He’s rubbing your slit with the necklace and collecting your mixed arousal and your eyes widen in horror at the filthiness of the action. Tovar’s hand moves from your breast to your neck, aggressively turning your head around so you’re looking into his eyes as he brings the rosary back to your mouth.

“Open your mouth querida...and taste us.” You silently obey him and let him push the holy object into your mouth. You’re unable to hide how thoroughly you’re enjoying this and Tovar leans forward to lick in your mouth, smiling devilishly when you try to chase his lips as he tries to pull away.

“Sleep mi amor, you need to rest.” Tovar takes the rosary from your lips and throws it around his own neck. You turn in his arms and nuzzle into his chest, silently praying that he doesn’t regret this the following day. 

“Please be here when I wake up.” You murmur in your sleep and Tovar’s heart breaks into a million shards when he realizes that things will be different once the two of you awake the following morning. 

He’s not sure how much time passes but he spends every second looking at you, memorizing your calm expression and how at ease your muscles feel under his touch. He doesn’t want to go to sleep, not when he knows this would be the last time he’d be able to be near you in such a manner. When he tries to move to get a drink of water, your arms wrap tightly around his chest and bring him closer to you. He’s smiling to himself and brushing your hair aside to kiss you, laying his head back in irritation when he notices that the darkened skies are turning a lighter shade of pinks and blues. 

Tovar shuts his eyes and doesn’t bother to wipe the tears away when he remembers the events of the night. He’s torn himself into bits to ensure your safety and although he was of sound mind when he walked into this room, he never thought it would hurt this much to leave you. 

When the chirping of the birds rings through the morning light, Tovar takes a deep breath and turns to you, kissing you one last time on your forehead before he loosens your hold on him. You frown for a moment in your slumber but remain unmoving as he dresses and leaves the room. He’s holding fast to the rosary around his neck as he walks to the barnhouse when he sees the Priest unlocking the doors of the church. 

The older man takes one look at Tovar and nods in understanding. 

“Is there anything I can help you with my son?”

“Thank you but no Padre.” Tovar walks to his horse and whispers his good mornings to the animal, sighing deeply when he hears footsteps approach him.

“Is there anything you wish to confess?” Tovar snorts a laughter before he turns around and attempts to hide his sarcastic remarks. “How long do you have Padre? Because I assure you, I have not confessed since I was a little boy.” Tovar is thankful that the priest understands the implications behind his words because he smiles and pats him on teh back before heading towards the church.

“My door is open should you change your mind.” Pero nods at the older man before he returns to attend to his horse, his mind recalling every second he spent worshiping your body and how sinful his name sounded falling from your lips.

It’s not until the sun is shining in the middle of the sky that you finally come to your senses. You open your eyes and look around the room for a moment, unable to recollect how you became in this room. When you take in a deep breath and smell the musky and heavy scent of something alien to your senses, memories of the previous night come crashing into your mind and you sit up instantly. You’re frantically looking around but there is not a single sign of Tovar. Removing the sheets, you flush at the sight of the mess that meets your eyes before you cover yourself once more.  

It was no dream then. He was here, in your bed, pleasuring you all night long.

Images of the Spaniard hunched over you and driving his cock into your cunt flash into your mind’s eye and you’re hiding in your pillows when you remember what he’s said to you and what you moaned for him in return. 

But not everything that comes through your hazed memories was pleasant and you remembered some of the things he’s whispered to you, and the last request you asked of him. You wished him to be here, even told him so and he was gone. He chose to leave you alone after laying with you. 

A loud knock came through the door and you tiptoed to the barrier to ask who was calling on you.

“Miss, I was told to bring you a hot bath. You want me to come back another time?” A young girl half-yelled from the hallway and you thanked God you didn’t have to walk around the rest of the day with the stench of sex and god knows what else sticking on your skin.

“No, no. Now is perfect thank you. Just, please give me a moment to collect my bearings.” 

Tovar remains in the barnhouse all day long, not trusting himself to leave for fear of seeking you out. He dozes off at some point, and dreams of your sweaty skin sliding deliciously against his as you ride his cock and cum around him. He dreams of your lips softly caressing his own as you beg him to take you over and over again. He dreams of your soft hands massaging the pain away as he kisses every inch of your skin. He dreams and dreams until the neighs of the horses wake him from his sleep. He sits up immediately to inspect them only to find your beast beating down its hooves as it nudges its head outside the barn windows. Looking outside of the door, Tovar is planted in his place as he watches you make your way into the church. There is a hurry in your footsteps and he can barely make out the expression painted on your beautiful features. He ceases to breathe when he notices your furrowed eyebrows and the way you wipe frantically at your cheeks.

You’ve been crying. And he is sure he is the reason for your tears. For your regrets. And for your broken vows. 

Tovar is incapable of moving a muscle and he knows very well he is the last person you probably wish to see. Grabbing his belongings, he struts back to the inn and ascends to his room, pausing for a moment to look at your door before he pushes into the one across and slams the wooden barrier behind him. 

Back in the church, the Priest can only stand aside as you kneel at the altar, crying and begging God for forgiveness. 

“For...for I acknowledge my transgressions, and my sin is always before me. Against You, You only, have I sinned, and done this- this...oh Christ, this evil in Your sight. Hide Your face from my sins, and blot out all my iniquities. Do not cast me away from Your presence, and do not take Your Holy Spirit from me. Please...my Lord, my God...a broken and a contrite heart, these, O God, You will not despise. Forgive me, have mercy on me. I have sinned before You and I- I have no one else to comfort me. Oh God, I- from the depths of my heart, I beg for Your forgiveness and I ask for Your guidance. I cannot lie to myself any longer, nor can I hide from him. He is my...my everything. Forgive me, f-forgive me.” You’re openly weeping in your hands as you stand and move towards the exit, coming to a halt when you see the Priest standing near the candles.

Walking towards him, you wipe the tears away and look to the floor as you come to a stop in front of him.

“How are you feeling this morning?” His voice is kind and calming and you silently thank God for sending you such a messenger. 

“I cannot lie to you Father, I have seen better nights.” You smile nervously at him and he returns the gesture, nodding in silence before he asks you to walk with him. 

“As much as it pains me to admit this to you, I- I cannot bless your relationship with this man.” You nod in affirmation as he brings you to the door of the church and stops. “I understand that last night was a difficult trial for you, and in a way, for him as well. But you know now, that it has become a temptation...should you, should you choose to go to him.” You can tell he is both sad and uncomfortable by the words he’s speaking to you. 

“I understand Father. But, I- if there is a slither of a chance that I could be with him, I must take it. I must. Forgive me.” You gulp nervously before you move past him and out the church, wiping the tears from your eyes as you make your way back to the inn. As soon as you walk in, you head to the innkeeper and ask him if he’s seen Tovar. He trips over his words and avoids your gaze, quickly telling you that he saw him ascend to his bedroom not too long ago. You thank him before heading up to his chambers, silently begging for your heart to slow down before you knock on his door. 

Taking a deep breath, you raise your hand and knock three times, furrowing your eyebrows when you are met with silence. Knocking once more, you wait with patience and begin to feel nervous when Tovar doesn’t respond. You’re about to try one last time when the door swings open and causes you to almost trip as you back away. 

Tovar’s furious expression melts away at the sight of you, and he barely holds back from pulling you into his arms and comforting you. 

“What do you want?” You wince at his tone and feel your chest tighten when he doesn’t move to let you in. 

“I- I wish to s-speak with you. If- I mean...if that is alright with you.” You’re stuttering again and Tovar finds it endearing that you’re somehow nervous in his presence when, not hours ago, he was pulling the most beautiful sounds from your mouth. Reluctantly, Tovar steps aside and lets you into the room, waiting for you to halt in your steps so he could remain as far away from you as possible.

“Speak,” he knows he should be more kind, a bit softer at least. But he can’t bare his heart to you again, not when you’ve come here to reject him, or perhaps tell him that you couldn’t remain in the company anymore. 

“I- about last night...I wanted to- that is, I’ve been...I was wondering if you- oh God.” Tovar can barely understand a word you’re saying and his impatience is growing by the second so he does the only thing he is capable of.

“You don’t have to say anything princesa, I know.” He pulls you away from your thoughts with a gruff response.

“Y-you do?”

“It was nothing, a mistake. We will not speak of it to anyone, sí?” Tovar snarls the words at you and it takes everything not to break down in front of him. So he’s known of your feelings, and he called what you’ve done last night a mistake. Who knew that rejection could hurt this much.

“Oh. I- I see.” Your voice breaks as you continue to ring your fingers nervously, unsure if there was anything left for you to say. Tovar is confused by your body language and he almost steps towards you to take your hands in his own and comfort you, but he stops himself. 

“So all of what- what you said to me was, it was just in the heat of the moment?” You can’t stop yourself from asking him as you look at him with hope in your eyes. There must have been some truth to them. There had to be. You don’t realize you’re stepping closer to him until the next few moments pass by. 

“You, I- I gave you everything that I am. Everything that I’ve kept for- for decades. And you’re telling me there isn’t a single ounce of affection in that god-forsaken cold heart of yours? I- what more do you want from me? I have nothing else that isn’t yours. Please, I- oh god...” Tovar is shocked at the turn of events and he doesn’t stop you when you begin to beat his chest until he sees how much you’re hurting your own hands. 

“Hermosa what-”

“I’ve given you my body, my- my heart...my soul. And you- you stand there and mock me with how little I matter to you.” You know you shouldn’t admit any of those affections to him and yet you’re incapable of hiding any longer. Tovar’s arms are suddenly tightening around your shaking form and you find yourself calming when you breathe in his scent. 

Tovar wholeheartedly believes he is dreaming because he is sure you would never say such words to him. He gives you all the time in the world to take your frustrations out on him, softly shushing you and rubbing at the back of your neck when you begin to sob again. You’re not sure how much time passes and when you finally pull away, you’re met with a soft pair of brown eyes that carried the weight of so many secrets in them. 

“Hermosa, I-”

“I’m sorry, that was...you didn’t deserve this. I- I should go.” You’re about to slip from his arms when Tovar pulls you back in and molds his lips with yours in a chaste kiss. You let him walk you to the bed and sit you down, never once letting go of him as he keeps his skin on yours. 

You want to ask him a million questions when you finally pull away, but your eyes shift to the beaded necklace around his neck and you recognize it immediately. Rubbing the rosary between your fingers and his chest, you look into his eyes once more and understand what he was silently telling you. What’s been hidden in those venomous words he’d thrown at you ever since you joined the company. 

“Pero.”

“Mi amor, forgive me. I never wished to hurt you so. I- I hoped that you’d one day return my feelings but- I...mierda. I tried to come to terms with your vows and I failed. I’ve been selfish and… last night was, it was- it was the best night of my life. But I knew that you would regret it once you woke up and I couldn’t be there when you looked at me with mistrust. I wish I could tell you that I regretted it...you weren’t yourself and it was, it was against your will. But I wouldn’t take back a single moment. Not one. You were finally in my arms querida and it was everything I’ve prayed for.” Your heart is beating violently at your chest and you swear he can probably hear it.

“Pero, I- I want you. I’ve wanted you for so long. I can’t remember a time when it wasn’t you.” Your confession is enough to break down all of the walls he’s built ever since you came into his life and he’s smiling at you before he remembers how you came to this moment. You frown when you watch his smile fade and he turns away from you.

“No hermosa. I- I cannot do this to you. Last night was...forced. I cannot tempt you to break your vows again. I love you Y/N. More than you will ever know. I cannot be the one to come between you and your God again.” You cease to breathe when you hear him admit that he loves you with immense ease. And you decide then and there what you want. 

“Pero, I do not see a life for myself where you are not in it. Where I am not sleeping in your arms every night. I cannot lie to myself anymore. I- I love you. You have my heart. Believe me when I tell you that I choose this for myself.” Your words ignite a fire in Tovar’s chest and he almost cries at what you were willing to do for him. 

Silence grows between the two of you before Tovar breaks it. 

“Marry me.”

“W-what?”

“Marry me hermosa. Marry me and you do not have to disobey your God, and I- I will be with you until the day I die.” His exclamation is beyond shocking and you’re not sure what to make of it because as far as you can tell, he is right.

“Tovar, I- you must understand that you need to be baptized to marry me?” You’re not sure why you ask him such a question but you want to be certain he understands what he is walking into. 

“No I do not cariño, I’ve already been baptized when I was a young boy.”

“You’re Catholic?” 

“By birth...but you know as well as I that I have not practiced in a long time. I- I can try to if you wish me t-”

“I could never force you to do something your heart does not long for. As far as I know, and in the eyes of the church, you need only be baptized.” You shrug, your mind already running with thoughts of how the Priest in the village would react when you return to him alongside Tovar. 

“So you will marry me?” Tovar is beaming with joy at your rationale and he’s squeezing your hands, praying you would end his agony and agree to become his wife. 

“Yes, a thousand times yes.” You jump into his arms and meet his lips once more, savoring the natural taste of them and moaning against him as he deepens the kiss and twists his tongue across yours. You feel his hands skimming down your form and you sigh when he grabs your backside and pulls you into his lap until you’re straddling him.

“Tell me mi amor, is it a sin if I make love to my future wife?” He’s kissing down your chin and nipping at your neck, making it difficult for you to form a coherent thought yet again. 

“Hmm, I’m not- oh God...I don’t know Pero. But- I...I’m sure it’s nothing I can’t confess about later.” You squeal when Tovar turns the two of you around and pushes you beneath him. There is a dangerous glint in his eyes and you twist your fingers in his hair to bring him closer to you. 

“In that case,” Tovar looks up towards the ceiling and you raise a curious eyebrow at him before he returns his attention to you once more, “forgive me Father, for I am about to sin.” 

Translations (please message me to correct the Spanish): Princesa - Princess ¡Váyase! - Go away! Buenas noches - Good night. Mierda - Shit Cállate - Shut up. Hijo de puta madre - Son of a bitch. Querida - Sweetheart Hermosa - Beautiful No importa - It’s not important or it doesn’t matter. Lo siento - I'm sorry. De nada - You’re welcome. Padre - Father Sí - Yes Perdóname - Forgive me. Magnífico - Magnificent Dios mío - My god Cariño - Dear/Honey Escupe - Spit (imperative form) Mi amor - My love/My sweetheart Relájate - Relax (imperative form) Mi cielo - My heaven Eres perfecto - You’re perfect. Te amo más de lo que nunca sabrás. - I love you more than you’ll ever know. Ven aquí y bésame! - Come here and kiss me!

Biblical References (because I can’t not footnote and I am shameless) Matthew 6:14-15, Psalm 6, Psalm 121, Galatians 5:17, 1 Corinthians 3:16-17, Psalm 3, Psalm 23,  Psalm 26, 1 Thessalonians 4:3, Matthew 7:7-8, John 8:32,  Psalm 57,  Psalm 69, Proverbs 6:25, Exodus 20:14, Matthew 5:28,  Psalm 51

Tagging some people who showed interest in this fic: @blueeyesatnight @purple-mango @mouthymandalorian @namay @kesskirata @starlightmornings @pedro-pastel @the-ginger-hedge-witch @pedropastelpascal @mothandpidgeon @romanosgirl1978 @littlebopper96 @fan-of-encouragement @feelmyroarrrr @metalarmsandmanbuns @tremistqueen @sebastianruinedme @im-not-great-at-making-up-names @a-bang-for-your-bucky @queensoybean @kat-r-in @blackmarketmummy @fleurdemiel145

#Pero Tovar #Pero Tovar/Reader #Pero Tovar x Reader #Pero Tovar Fanfiction #Pero Tovar smut #Pero Tovar angst #Pero Tovar Fluff #The Great Wall #Pedro Pascal

[therealvinelle]

What do you think the Cullens would do if some person they were talking to, out of nowhere just quite literally exploded in front of, and on them? Kinda like in that movie Spontaneous. Would they lose control and slurp up the mess on the ground, (and themselves) or would their bloodlust be curtailed by shock of wtf just happened?

I'd say something witty about how this is a strange anon to receive, but holy jesus you've sent me down a rabbithole.

Here's a trailer to the movie Spontaneous. It looks amazing. Kevin Feige wishes this had been his plot for Infinity War.

Here's a trailer for the movie Spontaneous Combustion, which I found by accident while searching for your fic. This looks amazing too. Can't believe Marvel didn't buy the rights to this guy.

I'm serious, people, you definitely want to watch these trailers. I just about died laughing.

So, on to your ask.

In the spirit of your ask, which implies a level of randomness, I thought the people blowing up should be random too. So, being in the mood to procrastinate through spending way too much time on tumblr things, I wrote a program that'll generate for me random Twilight characters.

Unsure whether the explosion should kill vampires or not, I generated an answer. The answer is yes, any generated vampire dies.

Without further ado:

Alice watches Vladimir blow up.

Alright, alright.

The first question to be answered here is why Alice is in Vladimir's presence in the first time. In canon they only meet once, at the end of Breaking Dawn.

For the sake of simplicity, we'll have Vladimir blow up then.

The Cullens and the witnesses are all celebrating being alive, when Vladimir suddenly explodes.

For the sake of the ask, Alice is sitting closest to him when this happens and making conversation.

Her first thought is utter shock. Not just that he blew up, but that she didn't see it coming (she wouldn't, because I randomly generated him. No decision was made). Her second thought is horror.

The Cullens just confronted the Volturi, now mere hours afterwards their allies are blowing up.

Holy fuck, Aro has a gifted ace up his sleeve, and he's using it to kill them remotely.

Panic ensues, not just for Alice, but among all the witnesses. Some of them refuse to leave, Bella has to shield those 24/7, though given the belief that her gift is psychic that doesn't make them feel very safe.

The others decide to go after the Volturi and beg for mercy, assuring them they never meant to challenge them.

Aro, of course, is very confused, but agrees. Why, yes, he does have a vampire who blows people up. Yes, yes he does.

Bella watches Aro blow up.

Oh I'm dying laughing at this one. And wishing I'd put this down for Carlisle, that would be even funnier, but alright.

Bella is walking about post-Breaking Dawn, minding her own business, when suddenly Aro appears in front of her. He looks around himself, utterly surprised by his sudden deplacement, and then blows up.

Bella has been living in terror of this man for years.

In Volterra he had his servant torture her and Edward and then made ominious threats, then a few months later the Eclipse disaster unfolded, finally we have Breaking Dawn where he showed up to murder her and everyone she loved.

Her shield may be powerful, but for as long as Aro was alive her family was never truly safe.

His untimely implosion changes all of that.

I imagine after a long moment of incredulity, Bella burns the rubble, just to be sure, then tells her family the joyous news.

Carlisle gives the guy a funeral. It's weird.

Carlisle watches Vassilii blow up.

Close call, due to my not switching out the names we almost had Angela. In which case Carlisle have stood there, covered in blood and in shock for several long seconds, before bringing out the bleach and gasoline for a crime scene clean.

As it is, Carlisle is minding his own business when suddenly an immortal child dressed like a medieval Eastern European appears before him. It says something in a foreign language that might mean "hi", he doesn't know but he says "hi" to it back, then the child blows up.

Carlisle stares at the rubble for a very long time, wondering if he is perhaps losing his mind. If, perhaps, Aro was right about animal blood being a slow suicide, and Carlisle has finally hit the limit for how long a vampire can go on without human blood.

He burns the rubble and prays for the child's soul, as an immortal child is doomed anyway, and keeps his silence about what happened. In part because there's a solid chance this was all in his imagination.

If Aro ever touches his hand again, and sees the immortal child that he burned a thousand years earlier resurrect, travel through time, all in order to blow up in front of Carlisle, he... well there comes a point where you say "nothing to see here" and refuse eye contact with the universe glitching.

Edward watches Randall blow up.

Randall, for the ignorants, is one of Carlisle's friends that came to witness for the Cullens in Breaking Dawn.

Suddenly he appears in front of Edward, says hi and how do you do, and then he blows up.

Edward tells Carlisle, who is saddened by this, and they try to piece the guy together. They fail.

Edward sends a somber thought to this noble man who agreed with Edward that the Cullens are awesome enough to be worth dying for.

Emmett watches Mary blow up.

Emmett will never admit it, but it's the coolest, raddest thing he's ever seen.

Esme watches Eleazar blow up.

Oh boy.

The Cullens are visiting the Denali. Irina has not been dead for long, but given the crystal clear memory of vampires, and the loss they already suffered (Sasha's death traumatized them) it doesn't really matter how long it's been, the Denali are devastated anyway.

The whole coven is as fragile as it can possibly get.

Then, Eleazar goes to join Esme in the kitchen, and explodes all over her and the kitchen.

The remaining Denali and the Cullens are called to the kitchen by the sound of Esme's screaming, and find her in hysterics, surrounded by gray rubble.

The Denali are near catatonic with grief at this point, while cooking has been ruined for Esme. One moment you're making food, the next people are exploding all over your kitchen.

Yeah.

Esme is not okay.

Jasper watches Nahuel blow up.

It's a shameful moment in his life.

But, hybrids are edible.

And that blood was splattered all over him.

Jasper has the worst control fail of his life, worse even than when he failed with Bella because this fail means he can't be around Renesmée anymore.

It's miserable all around.

The one highlight here is that it didn't happen when they were headed to the Volturi trial together.

Rosalie watches Emmett blow up.

Jesus christ, random Twilight character generator, just when I thought you were just going to give me boring results.

Not only does Rosalie lose the love of her life, the guy who kept her together, the one good thing she had going for her who made her life worth living, but he did so right in front of her, blowing up out of nowhere.

There's no explanation to be had, no culprit to be found, no reason for it. She had no goodbye, just as she can have no revenge.

She will never have closure.

Renesmée watches Renée blow up.

We go out on a high note, my god. Well done, generator, I'm laughing.

Renesmée is curious enough about her grandmother to go to Florida. She was going to watch from afar, but finds herself talking to the woman who raised her mother.

It's all going well until Renée suddenly explodes all over Renesmée.

Renesmée's first thought is nothing, she's in shock.

Then...

Well, she was controlled as an infant, so I don't think an adult Renesmée would lose it unless under extreme circumstances, like if she encountered a singer.

More, though, Renesmée might have any reasons of her own not to drink human blood, but she has been raised with this being a big no-no.

So she shouldn't.

However...

Is she ever going to get a better chance?

Ethically, she could easily argue this is the right choice. No one will be negatively affected by this, at least not directly.

The human is right there, already dead, and there's no body so while Renesmée does have to clean up the gore. Hell, if she laps up the blood on her clothes and the ground she will be cleaning up. Why waste perfectly good blood?

If Renesmée Cullen is ever going to have human blood, this is it.

It will come down to how much she respects her grandfather, and how important she believes Renée was to Bella.

-

Bonus, because I'm having way too much fun with this:

Bree watches Atheonodora blow up.

Bree is minding her own business when suddenly a vampire unlike any she has ever seen before, one with hazy eyes and odd skin, appears before her. They stare at each other. Then the woman blows up.

Bree takes this to mean that exploding is apparently something vampires just do sometimes, runs off in a panic and, sobbing, tells Riley.

Riley, having no idea what to make of any of this, tells her it was those evil yellow-eyes with their witchcraft and sorcery.

#twilight #twilight meta #twilight renaissance #jasper hale #alice cullen #edward cullen #esme cullen #emmett cullen #carlisle cullen #rosalie cullen #renesmée cullen #renée dwyer #bella swan #aro #athenodora #bree tanner #vladimir #nahuel #randall #mary #vasillii

[authornina]

Dalonte “DALY” Dennis: (TEK)

***THIS HAS NOT BEEN THROUGH A TYPICAL EDITING PROCESS; ALL SHORTS ARE ROUGH DRAFTS***

Daly shook his head listening to his sisters go back and forth about dumb shit. It seemed like they always waited until he came around to bring up niggas. He never intruded on their personal lives because he’d instilled enough in them to know what to do and what not to do. He had been on his own with them since he could remember. Daly was only ten years old roaming the streets looking for food to feed them. Life didn’t give him much of a choice to live another way. His mother left everything up to him, so he had to do anything to survive. At first it was just he and TJ, then two more girls came, and his mother literally dropped them off home to him. Daly cared for infants alone being just a baby himself.

They were on their way to the airport to pick up the baby of the three, Erie. She went away to college four years ago and this would be her first time back in Philly since graduating. They visited her a lot, but they were all happy to have her in the same state as them again. He was so proud of Erie for sticking it out and finishing college. At first, she would beg to come home. She even threatened to drop out several times. Daly spoiled Erie the most so during each one of her breakdowns he flew to Atlanta where she attended Spelman to talk her down.

All three of his sisters even being raised by him like straight niggas turned out to be great women despite their foul ass mouths and no-nonsense ass attitudes. People always said how pretty they were until witnessing one of them in action. Daly was a cool brother to have but he sometimes was too hard on himself thinking he could’ve done better with them and their emotions. He didn’t know how to raise children let alone girls but over the years he learned so much about women, more than he actually wanted to know. 

TJ was the oldest and she owned a popular hair salon. She was the wildest and most outspoken. Daly had to bail her out of jail several times, primarily for domestic disputes with her lovers. She was openly bisexual and came out to him when she was sixteen, saying if Daly didn’t accept her for who she was, he could kiss her ass. Of course, no matter what he loved his sister. TJ was five-eight, with tan skin covered by tattoos. She had them everywhere. None of them knew their fathers and Daly assumed she was biracial off her features and TJ didn’t like that. So, the long curly black hair she once had as a girl which made her ambiguity more apparent was shaved off and she chose to wear all types of colorful wigs. She was beautiful either way with her natural hunter green eyes and freckled rosy cheeks. Despite her lifestyle and appearance, TJ went to church a lot. She’d been that way since she was just a child. Always telling Daly she had them all covered on the prayer tip, so they were good. She believed the Lord protected her big brother the many nights he had to go out and do what needed to be done for them. TJ had a huge and loving heart she just didn’t have the patience for bullshit.

Ta’Kia, whom everyone simply called Kia was the calmest when considering the three of them. She didn’t bother anyone unless they bothered her. It was a different story if she knew you though, you wouldn’t be able to shut her ass up. She went to college in state at West Chester where she met her white boyfriend that she stressed out regularly. Kia was also fair skin and four-eleven of feistiness. Daly knew whoever her father was had to be black. She had 4C hair and to him that meant straight nigga. He learned all about the different types of hair black women had over the years. He didn’t assume they couldn’t have loose coils in general, but his sister came from nigga nuts with the shit that sat on top of her head. Kia kept it in all types of natural styles. She was the earthy vegan type. No man-made chemicals could touch her person and she only ate what she grew. She wore very little clothing often, even when it was cold with beads around her waist, lots of rings on her fingers and she had two nose rings and a septum. Daly didn’t know where the hell that aesthetic came from but again, he supported his sisters through whatever.  

Then there was Erieon, Erie for short, Daly’s baby. TJ and Kia didn’t give into her spoiled ass the way he did. If you asked them, their little sister was selfish, stubborn and plain old evil. Erie had a bad attitude, worse than all of three put together and never liked to admit when she was wrong. The only person she didn’t get out the way with was Daly. Erie was the surprise baby and the most beautiful little dark doll he’d ever seen when his mother first dropped her off. He fell in love with her the moment he had to take her on. By then he’d become an expert at caring for infants. Erie stood out because amongst her sisters she shined like chocolate satin. While her sisters rocked baldies and bushes, Erie loved box braids, and any other type of style that hung pass her butt in individuals. Everything about her was gorgeous. She was the most regular physically but personality wise, Daly had a time with that one. Sometimes he thought she had some mental health issues but seeing Lake go through so much and learning what he could, he swore his sister wasn’t that damaged. Couldn’t be. He simply gave her whatever she wanted and hoped it never went further than having temper tantrums.

When Daly was just a child, if it weren’t for Hassan, he and his sisters would be separated and spread out through the system. It was one of the reasons Daly was so loyal to Lake. Hassan made sure they never had to worry about being taken from one another. The house they lived in, he bought it and fixed it up. They had food and clean clothes every day. When his mother would try to come and interrupt the peace they finally had, Hassan made sure she didn’t any longer. Whatever bad shit people had to say about the late Hassan Porter, he and his sisters were blinded by the fact that he was the only adult to give a fuck about them. Even his mother’s sister didn’t offer a helping hand when she knew how they were living. Hassan didn’t ask any questions or want any answers. He saw a problem and fixed it. Never made Daly feel ashamed or embarrassed either.  

Once at the busy airport, they didn’t even have to park to meet Erie inside. She was sitting outside on her luggage with an obvious attitude.

“Here her ass go with the bullshit,” Kia said getting out the car. She hugged her resistant baby sister while Daly kissed her cheek before getting her stuff. TJ didn’t even get out the car because she was the least interested in what had her mean ass mad already. 

“What’s wrong, Erieon?” Daly asked once they were all back in the car. 

“Nothing.” 

“Erie! Stop bein’ a fuckin’ brat!” TJ turned around to her sister who was in the back seat now with her arms crossed and face balled up. “You always do that like somebody supposed to know what you thinkin’.” 

“Leave me alone.” 

“Erie, what’s wrong?” Daly asked her in a gentle tone making TJ and Kia roll their eyes.

“The flight was just annoying. I don’t like being around people.” 

“I’m sure people don’t like being around your evil ass either,” TJ said. “I’ma pray for you on Sunday demon.” She held the cross around her neck then pulled out a little bottle and splashed Erie. 

“Don’t put that saltwater on me!” 

“You need Jesus!” 

“TJ, stop,” Kia laughed. “Stay sprinkling people with your lil holy water.” 

“She think cause she got baptized that she still not going to hell,” Erie said, wiping her face. “Newsflash, you eat pussy, that’s a sin!” 

“Yo!” Daly yelled. “I don’t wanna hear that shit. All y’all shut the fuck up!” 

Why did he say that? All hell broke loose. They started shouting obscenities his way and he blew his breath wishing he went alone to begin with. Daly loved his sisters to absolute death, but they were a damn handful. How anybody dated one was beyond him. Man or woman. 

“Wit your big head ass!” TJ mushed him. “Don’t be talkin’ to us like that!” 

“I’m stayin’ with you TJ,” Erie said. They were the two who got along the least, but her sister was the most freeing to be around and let her do anything. Even though she was going on twenty-three, Kia and Daly treated her like a baby.

“Then you better act like you know, I ain’t for the walkin’ around my shit with no attitude! And I don’t clean up after grown muhfuckas.” 

“Why you don’t want your own shit?” Daly asked.

“Because I don’t wanna be alone,” Erie said low. “TJ lays with me when I need her.” 

“I can lay with you,” Daly said.

“You never be home.”

Erie saying that made Daly feel bad. If he wasn’t there often it’s because he couldn’t be and when he wasn’t, they had to take care of each other. They didn’t intentionally make him feel bad about it, they simply were dealt a shitty hand. No mother and their brother couldn’t be around due to the fact that he was the provider. It all affected each of them in different ways. 

“I lay with you too.” 

“Kia, your bed bout as big as this back seat. Then you like to sleep on the floor,” Erie said, and they all started laughing. 

Daly gave his sisters the range to live much more extravagant, but Kia didn’t want to. She liked her open space loft, mattress on the floor, no curtains, plants from wall to windows, three pairs of shoes and garden full of natural foods. TJ wanted to work for her own money, so she started a business. Erie was the only one who happily ran through his pockets like no tomorrow. He was okay with him being their backup plan if they ever needed or wanted it.

“Says the homeless one,” Kia rolled her eyes.

“By choice,” Erie retorted. 

After Daly took his sisters out then dropped them all off, he stopped at his old apartment. His phone was ringing off the hook and the only calls he returned were Lake, Wreck and Roddy. Mansion called him about fifty times. When those went unanswered, the texts started. 

Mansion: I know you with another bitch, since you wanna ignore me for her. Stay there, and don’t call me ever again with your hoe ass! 

Mansion: Bitch ass nigga! You really wanna cheat on me? And I bet she don’t look like shit! 

Mansion: I was fuckin’ somebody else anyway!

Mansion: I’m gettin’ a abortion!

Daly ignored each one. Mansion would say anything to get him to argue with her. At first it was funny, but now, he was a little tired of the constant back and forth. It was childish but that’s what he got for messing with a twenty-one-year-old. 

“What?” he asked, finally answering for her.

“Put your bitch on the phone.” 

“I ain’t wit no bitch.” 

“Right, you a hoe ass liar! Come get me right now.” 

“Fuck no! Go tell the nigga you was fuckin’ to get your crazy ass.” 

“I was just sayin’ that,” Mansion whined. “I love you.”

“Obviously,” Daly responded sarcastically and they both started laughing. “You gotta chill bro.” 

“My anger just get the best of me, you know I would never step out on you.” 

“I’m not comin’ tonight, I got shit to do.” 

“Like what?” 

“Shit.” 

“You lyin’.” 

“When the fuck do I ever have to lie? If I’ma be with another bitch, I would tell you.” 

“See that’s what I’m talkin’ bout, the disrespect! I’m not about to let you play in my face with no ugly ass hoe!” 

“Who ugly, Mansion?” 

“SHADIA!” she screamed, and Daly hollered. His on again off again girlfriend for years grinded Mansion’s gears. “You need to tell that dog face bitch you love me and it’s over.” 

“I told her that.” 

“Then why she still feel comfortable to go around talkin’ about my nigga? Why THE FUCK is she postin’ you on her Instagram?” 

“I don’t know.” 

“You know because you keep givin’ that hoe hope!” 

“Ion give nobody shit,” Daly looked at his phone beeping. “Hold on, I’ma call you right back.” He didn’t wait for a response to click over for his sister. “Yea TJ?” 

“Come get Erie before I fuck her up!” 

“What she do that damn fast?” 

“I comes the fuck in my room and her ass changin’ shit around in MY HOUSE!”

“You got it ugly in here!” he heard Erie yell in the back. “Everything don’t gotta be green!” 

“DALONTE!” TJ shouted. “Come get your sister! NOW! Jesus be a high ass fence for Erieon…” she started her prayer for forgiveness then Daly heard a bunch of ruckus. He hung up on everybody tired of dealing with women for one day. It wasn’t even five o’clock yet. He got all the bags out of his trunk and went inside the apartment building. 

When he put his key in the door Tracy was standing right there with an attitude. Out of all the bitch fits, he was least interested in hers. He didn’t tell his sisters about their mother staying there and that’s why he moved because it would upset them. TJ mostly. She hated Tracy to no ending. 

“The fuck you standing there for waitin’ like you caught me cheatin’ or something?” 

“Because you leave me in this place, alone! I ain’t got no phone, no communication to the outside world—” 

“Man, fuck outta here,” Daly said, closing the door. “You lucky you got this.”

“I want to see my children, Dalonte!” 

“They don’t wanna see you.” 

Daly’s mother was a rehabilitated crackhead and ex-prostitute. He wouldn’t have offered her a place to stay but she was currently pregnant and had the nerve to tell him she wanted to do right for her baby. 

“Well it ain’t they choice, y’all is muthafuckin’ kids to me! I don’t care what we been through! I am your mother!” 

“You ain’t shit, Tracy.” Daly took all the bags in the kitchen. “Here, all the shit you wanted. Fuckin’ prenatal vitamins,” he threw them at her. “I know your ass ain’t do none of this shit with us! You want my sisters to see this shit?” He started pouring all the stuff out. “You got it in you to finally care about one of your kids.” 

“He is y’all little brother,” Tracy said, palming her stomach with tears in her eyes. Her oldest child hated her so she knew it couldn’t have been any better with the other three but not seeing them for so long hurt her heart. When she came to him, he didn’t even care at first. They owed her nothing and as a mother Tracy wished she could take every ounce of pain she caused them back. 

“I almost said fuck him too,” Daly laughed, and Tracy smiled. Her son loved her; she knew this because he could be really cold when he wanted to be. There had been times she’d been on the other end of it. 

“I’m sorry for putting all of this on you, if I had another option, I would’ve chosen it. I know it’s not easy seeing me like this,” Tracy expressed to her son sincerely. 

“Whatever, I’m out, I gotta go break up a fight between your kids.” 

“Can you at least tell them I miss them?” 

“I’ll think about it.” Daly closed the door in her face. He stood with his back against the door feeling the way he did when he was younger. So many times, she would even watch him struggle with his sisters. Tracy would be home while he was trying to figure out a way to provide for them. Here she was pregnant again with another baby and needed her son all over again. Déjà vu.

#OnUs #authornina #Nina

[troubatrain]

tis the damn season - m. tkachuk

a/n: as we all know, i am an absolute whore for a christmas fic and when i listened to evermore yesterday i knew this needed to be done. i literally haven’t written anything this fast in forever but i hope you guys like it!! (also tagging @igor-shestyorkin​ @blueskrugs​ & @fenwaynightlights​ for reading this last night and telling me it was good so i’d actually finish it ily)

The second you walked into the party, Matthew’s eyes didn’t leave you. He knew you were coming, but watching you step into his parent’s house with a plate of your famous chocolate chip cookies and a smile that made his heart skip a beat, was almost taunting him. You dated forever ago, the last real relationship Matthew had ever been in, and by the looks of it - it was staying like that. You greeted everyone, down to the biggest hug to his grandparents who swore you were going to be Matthew’s wife one day. That was because that’s just how you were, kind and smart and constantly impressing anyone who Matthew introduced you too. Every teammate he had at the time loved you, and he knew if you were in Calgary his team now would be the same. Brady adored you, even admitting to his brother he still called you for girl advice because if Matthew fumbled the bag when it came to you there was no way Brady should take his advice. Matthew couldn’t even think about your relationship with his sister, or how crushed she was when you broke up. Then there was his parents, his mom swore it would be okay. That it was just Matthew’s first love and eventually he’d find his forever but he knew she was lying. Matthew found forever with you, and he let it implode because his dream was just more important at the time. Now, he could be at the top of the world and none of it mattered because you weren’t by his side.

Matthew just felt dumb now, because you were on to bigger and better things and you weren’t hung up on your high school ex-boyfriend. You went off to college, crushed it, and moved back into St. Louis with a near perfect job offer and success practically radiating off of you. He was standing in his kitchen in the worst Bud Light Christmas sweater like an eighteen year old frat boy and you looked every bit like the goddess Matthew knew you were. The perfect Christmas red dress you were wearing sat on your frame flawless, and it was obvious that red was still your color.

“I can leave if you want me to?” You ask, leaning into Matthew when you finally made your way over to him. Your voice was low, mouth close to Matthew’s ear while you hugged him so no one could hear you ask. You were an infinitely better person than he was, so of course you asked him if it was okay to stay.

“You’re always welcome here, you know that,” Matthew answers, sipping his beer for some liquid courage he desperately needed.

“Just because your mom invites me doesn’t mean I need to be here,” You shrug, “Maybe you’ve got someone here…”

He would never. Matthew had never even considered it, what it would be like to bring someone home that wasn’t you. There wasn’t one person in Calgary who could measure up, and despite the fact that his family loved him and would accept anyone with open arms, deep down Matthew knew you would always be on their minds.

���I don’t,” Matthew says, trying to stop himself from wrapping his arm around your waist while you stand with your chest still pressed against his from your hello hug, “I mean what would be the point? They don’t make cookies like you do.”

Matthew had to joke, cover up the fact that he was never able to let go of what you had and choke it down with beer he was drinking. He liked seeing you, the same times he did every year. Thanksgiving, Christmas, and the occasional summer BBQ was something he looked forward to, sometimes he even hoped for an extra reason for you to both be somewhere. He knew you’d come, because you wouldn’t dare deny his mother’s invitation.

“Of course you noticed I made them,” You rolled your eyes, pushing Matthew back jokingly, “Remember when you used to beg me to make them-”

You stopped yourself when you noticed where this was going, you never brought up the before times. The times when Matthew would give you his best puppy dog eyes for you to bake him something, followed by a plea to just look the other way when he devoured the entire plate.

“Maybe it’s best we broke up, I probably never would’ve gotten drafted by eating these,” Matthew teases, sliding past you to grab a cookie off the counter and taking a big bite, “Because fuck these are good.”

Matthew’s moans in delight sent a chill up your spine. You hated that he could still do that to you, because it was the same thing every time. You’d see him, and for a moment you’d think that this would work itself out. You could get back together, and falling in love would be just as sweet a second time, but it wouldn’t work. You were settling into your own, a fresh lease signed in your new apartment you were going to move into after New Year’s, and Matthew was going to go back to Calgary where he was a big deal. That was always the dream, to make it big in the league and make his parents proud. Matthew was doing it, not that you ever doubted him, but you were proud nonetheless.

The thing was, because Matthew was doing the damn thing, he gave up you. It was like a deal he made with the devil when he was seventeen, he could have everything he ever wanted if he didn’t have you to hold him back. You always knew that was why he broke up with you, it was the right person at the wrong time.

“It’s nice to see you Matthew,” You muse, biting the inside of your cheeks to hold back the grin on your face. You stopped the conversation before it started, constantly trying to make this as painless as possible, but it wasn’t always easy.

“Wait, uh, you’re going to be here until Christmas right?” Matthew asks, grabbing your attention before you slipped out of the kitchen. Matthew was hopeful, catching a flight a few days earlier than he usually could and landing before Christmas gave him more time to see you.

“I’ll be at my parents house,” You nod, thinking about your childhood bedroom that was currently covered in moving boxes while you waited to settle into your new place.

“Oh sweet,” Matthew takes another swing of his drink, trying to keep his cool because you were the only person who made him completely uncool.

“Yeah, sweet, I’ll see you around,” You wave, disappearing into the kitchen. Matthew takes a deep breath, collecting his thoughts for a minute until Brady stepped in front of him. His little brother scoffed, a stupid smirk on his face when he finally spoke.

“Dude that was painful to watch.”

***

Matthew had no idea what the fuck he was doing. His feet were just carrying all two hundred and two pounds of his body in the exact direction of your house. He was drunk, well over the limit of how many whiskey shots he could even handle. He looked at his watch, it was almost three in the morning but if he didn’t get it out now when would he ever. He loved you, and all he could think about is what would happen if he could have just had one more night with you. Maybe you’d feel it, you’d always been pretty intuitive with his feelings, because he was awful with them. He had to make his case, did he even have one?

Oh hey Y/N, I know I’m hammered and it’s three in the morning the day before Christmas Eve but I want you to know I’m still in love with you.

That wouldn’t work, and he was going to have to do better than that. He could turn around and go home, but if he had to watch another one of your Instagram stories and pray that whoever was in them wasn’t your boyfriend again - he would lose his mind before he made it to the holidays next year. He snuck past the gate into your yard, not surprised to see your whole house was sleeping quietly. He picked up a few pebbles from your mother’s garden, shaking them in his hand and hoping you remembered the way he let you know he was outside when you’d sneak out in high school.

One.

Two.

Three.

You were woken up by the sound of three pebbles hitting your window, and you rub your eyes in disbelief by what you were hearing. Matthew wasn’t outside your window at three in the morning looking for you, why would he even think about it? 

“What the hell are you doing?” You ask, poking your head out the window and crossing your arms to battle the cool air blowing through.

“Come down?” Matthew asks, wiping his palms on the back of his jeans and giving you his best smile. A real one, because you’d always been able to tell when it was fake.

You should’ve closed the window, and pushed Matthew to the back of your mind until you found yourself creeping on his Instagram again. You were always a good listener, and you always tried to do the right thing but Matthew was your vice. He’d always been a little bit a bad boy, but never enough to stop you from coming back for more. So you opened your window a little more, slipping down and scaling down your house just like you used to.

Matthew could have pretended like he didn’t notice, his last name faded on the back of the hoodie you were wearing, but he couldn’t. You looked just as cute in it as you did all of those years before, “Seven was such a good number on you, I wish I could have kept it.”

You could feel the heat on your cheeks, hoping Matthew couldn’t catch it in the moonlight, “Why are you here?”

“I want one more night,” Matthew takes a deep breath, standing his ground, “I, uh fuck-”

Matthew Tkachuk had never been good with words. He put his foot in his mouth, all the time, but his plea was something you never thought you’d hear. It was Christmas, you were lonely, and a part of you wondered the same thing. So you said fuck it and decided that this was your problem later, pressing your lips to Matthew’s. Your hands gripped his shirt, trying to get as close to him as you could. Matthew was dumbfounded, wrapping his arms around your waist, his fingers digging into your sides.

“Can you be quiet?” You ask, pointing at the back door. It was the middle of the night and your parents room was on the first floor but if Matthew was quiet enough you could get him upstairs easily - you used to do it all the time.

Matthew nodded eagerly, following you inside and tip-toeing up the stairs. He was doing a terrible job, either he’d gotten bigger or the floors in your parents house had gotten creakier.

“You said you could be quiet,” You tease, letting Matthew push you against the door, he twisted the lock, smirking at you.

“I’m a lot bigger than I used to be,” Matthew declares, fake puffing out his chest.

“I noticed…” You muse, running over your hands over his shoulders. He’d gotten broader with age, and it wasn’t something that was lost on you. You press your lips to his, throwing your hands around his neck and pulling him closer. Your fingers crept up to his curls, tugging on them slightly. Matthew smirked against your lips, “I missed that.”

“I missed you,” Matthew mutters, wrapping your legs around his waist to bring you to your bed. You squeal, tucking your head into shoulder to stop the noise, “Who’s the loud one now?”

“Well don’t stop kissing me then,” You tease, grabbing Matthew and pulling him on top of you. You worked quickly, a pile of clothes in the corner of your that was going to be addressed later. Matthew’s lips were on your neck, his finger circling your clit while you bit your lip hold back a moan, “Matty please-”

The nickname slipped your lips so easily it was like you never should have stopped calling him that. Matthew took notice, and it was like music to his ears, “Anything you want babe.”

“Fuck me,” You breathe out, desperate for as much of him as you could get. Matthew slipped out of his boxers, pumping himself a few times before he gave you a look. You nodded, giving him the go ahead and pulling his lips back to yours. Matthew slipped inside you, and it’d never felt better.

Matthew was better now, much much better. His hips were snapping into you, a near perfect pace while grunts left his lips. The pleasure was almost too much, and you could feel your nails scratching into his back while you bit into his shoulder to keep yourself quiet. His hand snaked down to your clit, “Cum for me babe, c’mon.”

You clenched around him, the sensation was enough to send Matthew over the edge, spilling into you. He dropped to his elbows, placing lazy kisses on your skin while you basked in the post sex glow. Matthew’s skin was glistening against the moonlight from your window, his breath in your ear while you caught yours and it all felt right.

“You know you have to go now,” You remind him, “My dad will murder you if he catches you up here.”

“I know,” Matthew bumps his nose against yours, pressing one more kiss to your lips, “I’ll see you tomorrow? Or later?”

Later. It had completely slipped your mind that in just a few hours you were going to be forced to run an annual day before Christmas Eve 5k with the Tkachuk’s like you did every year. The idea was somehow worse than doing it on Thanksgiving, and now you had to see Matthew after you let him fuck you in your childhood bedroom. You watched Matthew dress himself, hopping out your window and back to his own house.

Now you just needed some sleep.

***

You felt like shit, and you were missing the iced coffee you didn’t have a chance to get while you trailed behind your parents to meet the Tkachuk’s. You greeted everyone, stopping at Matthew last, you were unsure of how to even greet him after what you’d just done a few hours before. He didn’t think anything of it, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you into his chest.

“Here,” Matthew says, nudging his cup towards you. You assumed it was coffee, but then the taste of a mimosa hit your tongue.

“Jeez,” You choke, coughing while you take down the champagne with just a hint of orange juice.

“Do you think I was going to run this sober? You wore me out last night,” Matthew teases, and he could feel Brady’s gaze on him.

The wheels in Brady’s head were turning. He was suspicious, catching Matthew sneak back into the house early in the morning, and now watching the two of you - it was clear. It became even clearer when they started running, because Brady knew Matthew wasn’t that slow and he didn’t wasn’t going to let Brady beat him. He was though, jogging behind Brady with you and laughing at whatever you said. There was one thing that was clear, Matthew got over his dumb fear of talking to you and finally did. His brother was happy, but he couldn’t help but feel like he was going to watch this explode in your faces in a few days. Matthew would go back to Calgary and just the first time you broke, it was going to be ugly.

***

The winter in St. Louis was brisk, but Matthew’s warm body next to you was enough to fight it. Your head was on his chest, and you were snoring softly. Matthew picked you up a few hours after you got home, driving up to the same lake you snuck off to in high school. He stole Brady’s truck, driving off with a bunch of blankets without giving Brady an answer as to where he was going. It was supposed to be romantic, but you’d always been prone to falling asleep when you were with him.

Matthew didn’t have a complaint in the world, you slept the same way you used to. Your head on his chest, a leg tangled with his and your hands clutched to his shirt so he couldn’t move. He wasn’t going anywhere. Matthew would let you sleep the entire day away if he could have. He carded his hands through your hair, a content sigh leaving his lips.

Matthew often wondered what would have happened if you never broke up. If you’d followed him to Calgary and what that would have been like. Maybe you’d still be together, and after all these years he’d start looking for a ring. If you’d buy a house together, maybe even be that family that houses wayward hockey players just like his parents did. You’d be the person he got to share looks with across the room when he was forced to have conversations he didn’t want to have. He’d get to take you family skates and you’d get to see him play and you’d live happily ever after.

Reality was always much more cruel, and it wasn't pretty. You had a life in St. Louis, one that didn’t include him. You were moving along in your life just fine without him. You didn’t need Matthew and it was dumb of him to think you’d drop it all for him. You never asked him to stay, and it would be unfair to ask you to wait around.

“I can hear you thinking, you might start to malfunction soon bubs,” You whisper, your voice still laced with sleep. You meant to run a hand through his hair, but the palm of your hand just hit his forehead while you moved it back down slowly. Matthew chuckles, the silly nicknames you gave him seemed to come out without a second thought, and it felt good to be called any of them by you.

“Just thinking about you,” Matthew breathes, and you pick up your head. Matthew shoots you a smile, but you knew he was faking it.

“Matty-” You take one deep breath, “Don’t ask me to come with you, you know it’s not fair to me.”

Your voice was cracking, pleading Matthew to just not have this conversation. You weren’t ready for it, because it meant accepting defeat. The universe wasn’t going to allow you to be together, and that’s just how it was going to be.

“I don’t want to go back to Calgary,” Matthew whispers, more to himself than you. He did want to go back, but he wanted to go back with you.

“You have to,” You sit up, a chill running through your body from the loss of Matthew’s body next to yours. You rub your arms to warm up, “You have to because we’re just not going to make it work Matty.”

Matthew nods solemnly, like his heart just broke all over again. You were right, you always were, it just seemed naïve to think you’d both be any different now than you were the first time, “Let me take you home.”

The car ride was awkward. The only thing cutting through the silence was the Christmas music playing on the radio. You sat with your head pressed against the window, counting down the streets until you finally hit yours. Matthew halted the car, and you gave him one more look before you stepped out of the car, “Tell your parents I said Merry Christmas.”

“I will,” Matthew nods, and those were the last words you heard him say before you walked up your stairs. Matthew waited for you to be inside before he drove off, a small part of him hoping you’d run back to the car and tell him you wanted him too. You didn’t, and that was just how it was going to be.

***

Christmas was awful, the past two days seemed to pass were pure agony. You were sad, and knowing Matthew was about three blocks and four houses away wasn’t helping. You were counting down the hours until he was back in Calgary, away from you and you could finally grieve him for the final time. The last nail in the coffin of what was once your first love had yet to be hammered in but once he was gone that would settle it.

You had two more hours until you knew his flight would leave, and you were so close to the finish line you could taste it. You were home alone, your parents still making their way to a few neighbors' houses to spend the last few moments of the holiday with their friends. You were sulking, a wine bottle stolen from your mother’s collection and the Grinch on your TV. 

A doorbell was the only thing to interrupt you, and you could see a tuft of curly hair through the window. Matthew was standing outside your door, pacing back and forth while he waited for you to open it. You thought about acting like you weren’t home, maybe he’d leave and never come back. You opened it, not even having a chance to open your mouth before he spoke.

“Come with me,” Matthew pleads, “I love you, I still do and I always have and we’re meant to be together. There isn’t anyone I want more by my side than you, and I know it’ll be hard but I’m not ready to let you slip through my fingers again.”

“Matthew-” You interrupt grabbing his arm to stop his pacing, “Listen to yourself.”

“I am, and I want this, I never wanted to give up you and I just can’t fly back there with people who don’t know when I’m faking a smile or when I don’t want to be somewhere,” Matthew explains, running a hand over his face, “You’re the best I’ll ever have and I want to spend the rest of my life proving that to you.”

“I’ll come until New Year’s,” You agree, Matthew’s face breaking out into a very real smile, “We need to talk about this Matthew.”

“You talk, I’ll listen, you can have whatever you want,” Matthew agrees, because he’d move the sun if he could for you. His lips pressed against yours, pushing you against the same front door he kissed you in front of on your first date. The porch light still flickers the way it used to while Matthew’s hands gripped your face because he was afraid to let you go. You both finally pulled, Matthew mumbling his next words against your lips.

Tis the damn season huh?

#matthew tkachuk #matthew tkachuk imagine #My writing #nhl imagine #nhl imagines

[ithebookhoarder]

More Than Blood (Ez Reyes x F!reader)

Description: Of course it happened the one night you and your fiancé finally had time for a date. All you’d done was go into town and somehow, you’d still ended up in the hospital…

Warnings: Swearing, angst, pregnancy, reference to violence, blood, mentions of injuries, mentions of surgery, gunshot wounds, Angel being a protective big bro (Let me know if I missed any)

Masterlist:

Gunshots.

They echoed over and over in your brain as you stared at your blood soaked hands.

You hadn’t had time to stop. To think. To panic.

Instead, you’d become eerily calm as you’d clung to Ez’s trembling body, one hand pressing your jacket into his stomach, the other frantically trying to steer the truck towards the hospital admissions bay.

You’d started rambling - you remembered that much as the night hit you in waves.

You’d begged Ez to stay with you, to stay awake and press with you against his bleeding sternum, to keep his promise and love you for eternity.

“Ezekiel Reyes, so help me if you die on me I’m bringing you back so I can kill you myself. You hear me?”

He’d managed a weak laugh at your threat, causing a brief glimmer of hope to appear despite your terror.

His smile had always been able to enchant you. “You… you p… you promise?”

“Always, mi amor. Where you go, I go. Remember?”

This wasn’t how your story ended, with some crazed rival biker shooting your fiancé in the middle of the street. No. You’d been through too much together to lose this now.

You couldn’t let it happen. Not now. Not when your future was so close you could almost taste it. A future free of the demons that had been haunting you both since the day his mother had died.

Maybe that was why it felt as if the ring on your finger was mocking you, your engagement ring now crusted with blood, an eerie reminder of the ordeal you’d just been through… and how close you’d been to losing it all.

A sob escaped your lips as you continued to stare at the lino flooring. Blood stained your shoes, tiny little pinpricks of red harsh against the once white sneakers.

You’d never felt so helpless in all of your life.

It was hard to bite back the tears as you paced back and forth in the hospital corridor. You didn’t feel foolish about the fact your date night dress now looked like something out of Carrie, even as you felt the curious eyes of passersby linger on you a moment too long.  

Why wouldn’t they? You looked a sight, hands still coated in blood, Ez’s blood.

The sight was one that made even you nauseous, to think how you’d felt the warmth of his blood seeping over your hands as you’d staggered into the hospital, screaming for help… praying for a miracle…

How had your lives been torn apart so fast?

“Y/N!”

“A… Angel?”

His voice startled you out of your panic as he tore towards you, a weary company of Mayans following close behind. His eyes were wild as he stared at your blood soaked figure, terror clear as he feared the worst.

“Are you ok?”

“Yes.”

“And Ez? Where is he?”

“He… he’s in surgery,” you managed to choke, allowing him to haul you close as he rushed to your side.

The feeling of being held in his arms was enough to tell you that you were finally safe, that the whole nightmare was almost over.

Something about your soon-to-be brother in law’s hugs had always been like that, though. Maybe it was because Angel was just so tall, or maybe it was because he had always been as much of a brother to you as he had Ez.

He’d often held you as a kid, like the time you’d been picked on by a snotty nosed group of girls at your school. He’d rocked you back and forth while Ez had gone to make sure they never bothered you again.

The Reyes brothers had always cared and looked out for you like that… No wonder you felt even more guilty at the realisation that you’d let them down.

“They said he should be fine… they think it went right through… they’re just repairing the damage… he lost so much blood, Angel. I couldn’t stop it. I tried but it just kept coming and he came out of nowhere-”

“Hey, hey, it’s not your fault,” Angel growled fiercely. You could hear the rage in his voice, so strong it made him tremble against you. “You didn’t fucking do this. That son of a bitch with the gun did.”

“But I should have seen him coming. Ez was only out there because of me and the fact I wanted a fucking snack-”

“Nah. Stop with that bullshit, Y/N, right now. You hear me?”

“Y… yes.”

“Ez’s tough. He’ll be alright.”

“He sure is,” Gilly added softly.

He and the others all looked too full of pain for you. You refused to meet his eye as he tried to coax you - and Angel - into sitting on the plastic chairs that lined the eerie hallway.

“You’ll do yourself no good if you wear yourself out before the doctors are finished,” he whispered. “Ez will need you to be strong for him. Both of you.”

“Maybe you should get cleaned up and shit too?” Coco shrugged. “Look less like a horror movie extra… don’t want to scare old man Reyes when he gets here.”

You couldn’t help but laugh a little at his disgust and brutal honesty. It was like any other conversation between you both at the clubhouse, with him teasing you in some childish game until you gave in and gave as good as you got.

It made your eyes burn with unshed tears; you could always count on these guys to look out for you and not just because you were Ez’s Old Lady. No. They saw you as one of their own and the Mayans always took care of their family.

It was why you listened to Coco’s request rather than shrugging it off like you had when the staff and police had tried to coax you into cleaning yourself up.

Unlike with them, you knew better than to argue with Coco. It would do no good and with Ez’s brothers guarding the hallway, you weren’t so scared to leave your post anymore.

“O… ok.”

“Good, querida,” Angel stated firmly, finally pulling away with a kiss to your forehead.

His eyes quickly raked over you once more as if to convince him that you really were alright, if not a little shaken. Only when he was sure did he release you, shooting a look back at the group of worried bikers behind him.

“We’ll get you cleaned up. Pops is on the way and you can tell us once he gets here what happened, ok? Every fucking last detail. I need to know which sorry son of a bitch I’m about to put a bullet in to.”

His words made you blood turn to ice as you tried not to flinch. Maybe the nightmare wasn’t completely over yet…

You’d been sat in the chair for hours now.

You didn’t know how Angel had sat so still, waiting… waiting for any news about what had happened and what was to happen next. Perhaps it was the others and their presence that calmed him enough to sit, hands clasped together in silent prayer as they spoke words of comfort to you both.

Hell, Gilly had brought you a coffee which you had politely declined, and even made Angel try to walk off his nervous energy outside. It was a good thing too considering Angel managed to seem somewhat calmer by the time his father arrived and was sent home again a mere hour or so later.

In fact, Angel had been doing rather well considering… until one of the others happened to mention the fact the gunman was only down the hall, in a room of his own.

Yeah. Not even God himself could have stopped Angel Reyes then as he shot you a look of apology and tore off out into the corridor to ‘deal with this shit’.

With a sad sigh, you had let him go. He had the others with him to take care of him for now and stop him from doing anything rash.

In the meantime, your concern still lay with the Reyes brother lying on the bed in front of you.

Thankfully, Ez had been wheeled out of surgery almost an hour ago, placed to recover in a ward of other post-op patients. Sure, with the privacy curtain pulled around you, you could almost pretend you were alone, but there was something comforting in having so many people around you.

They felt like shields… witnesses keeping you and your sleeping fiancé safe as he began his journey back to the land of the living.

Was it horrible of you to hope he slept a little longer?

That he could stay blissfully unaware of the world and remain at peace for even a moment more?

“I’m so sorry,” you whispered softly, watching the steady rise and fall of his chest. “We… we’ll get through this, Ez. I know it. We’ll get through this and you’ll be ok and we’ll get that house you always talked about… the one with the garden and that old porch swing out back… we can buy it and start our life together properly.”

You’d been talking to him for a while now, as if you somehow believed he could hear you.

Even if he couldn’t, you felt better acting like you two were back in your room, lying in bed whispering to one another about your days.

“Hell, we still have a wedding to arrange, Ezekiel Reyes, so you better bounce back and fast. I am not sorting out shit like which of the boys outside in the hall get to be your groomsmen, or… or what flowers we want and do we want a band or a DJ? I can’t even decide what our first song will be… I need you to help me make those choices. Together.”

“As… As long as it isn’t Taylor Swift… we’re good.”

You hardly dared breathe.

Your eyes widened.

You looked up, shock written across your face as you realised Ez was awake, even if still groggy from the anaesthetic. He looked like he’d just woken up, with his hair a little fluffy and his face wrinkled as he blinked at the lights shining over head.

Like that, you were half way out of your seat. You hand was reaching for his like you were drowning and he was your life raft.

You didn’t even care how your legs threatened to buckle beneath you, as everything hit you all at once.

Maybe you should have taken Angel up on that offer for a nap after all.

“Woah - Easy does it.” It was Ez who ironically scolded you, watching as you managed to land safely on the bed next to him. His hand was warm and comforting against yours as you held it close, peppering kisses of gratitude everywhere you could. “Damn, hermosa. You’d almost think you liked me or something.”

“I’m just glad you’re awake,” you sobbed, “how are you feeling?”

“Like I got shot.”

You smirked through your tears at his smug ass tone. “Ok, stupid question.”  

“Is… W… where’s Angel? Is he here?”

“Causing trouble down the hall,” you whispered, smiling down at him, unsurprised his second thought upon waking from major surgery was for his brother.

They really did come as a package deal, but you wouldn’t have had it any other way. Family was all you had in the end.

“Your Dad was here too briefly, but the others sent him home. Said they’d call and let him know when you woke up… Why? Is the company of the woman who saved your life not enough?”

“Don’t know… thought I might wake up and find some sexy nurse.”

“I swear, Ezekiel Reyes,” you giggled, thankful to hear his own weak laughter as well as his lame ass joke. “I’ll get Angel for you. Bishop will be grateful for the help. He’s been tearing the damn hospital apart waiting for you to wake up. You were in surgery for a while whilst they fixed the worst of the damage.”

“Sounds like him.”  

“He… we were all scared shitless Ez.”

“I’m sorry,” he croaked, squeezing your hand gently. “When I heard the gun and you screamed… I thought… Thank god you’re ok … But I don’t regret it, Y/N. I’d take a bullet for you in a heartbeat… I couldn’t stand it if you’d got hurt, if our places were switched.”

“But they weren’t,” you whimpered, trying desperately to forget the horrific image that was now seared into your mind. You’d never forget the sight of your fiancé bleeding out all over you and the front seat of the truck. “Anyway, I’m so fucking relieved you’re ok. We all are.”

Ez smiled, but didn’t seem to realise what you meant as you gently pulled his hand to your abdomen. “Me too… you’re my whole world, Y/N. You’re my family and I meant it when I swore I’d keep you safe, no matter what.”

Tears pricked your eyes.

Family… the word made your heart stop for a second.

Maybe it was the fear that you’d almost lost him, or maybe it was the realisation he’d almost died and never even known that you were carrying his child… either way, you weren’t waiting another damn minute.

You’d waited long enough to tell him and you’d had a perfect plan in place before your date had been interrupted the night before.

If you didn’t know better, you’d have said the universe was trying to send you a message.

“Speaking of family,” you sighed, “this family, our family, needs you, Ez… So, you have to promise me this business with the club is done. Else, it better be in the next 7 and a half months cause we have a countdown clock now.”

Ez froze.

His eyes widened in wonder and disbelief and you half believed it was all the drugs in his system. “You… we’re… you’re pregnant?”

Your smile lit up the whole room as you nodded, more tears escaping your eyes. “Yeah, I am. I was going to tell you last night but things didn’t exactly go to plan-”

“No. They certainly didn’t.”

That was the understatement of the century.

“But now you know, no more scares like last night. Please?”

“I… I’ll do my best.”

That was all you could ask for, given the circumstances. After all, he was your entire world too and you’d soon have one more member to add to your little universe of chaos.

#mayans #Mayans MC #mayans x you #mayans imagine #mayans x reader #ez reyes #ezekiel reyes #ez reyes x you #ezekiel reyes x reader #ez reyes x reader #angel reyes #gilly lopez #coco cruz #Felipe Reyes #bishop #obispo bishop losa #masterlist #thesilentmage #ithebookhoarder #mayans fanfic #mayans mc x reader #ezekiel reyes x you #angel reyes x you #angel x reader #angel reyes x reader

[lisinfleur]

Memento Mori

The request:

Author’s Notes | This came out sadder than I thought. But it’s beautiful imo and I hope you like it. Universe | Vikings Pairing | Ivar x Reader Info | requested by anon for 5CW Ivar II, posted for HTGI Event. Words | 1894 ⁑ Warnings: Triggering content: mentions of child loss (past), mentions to burns, deep angst. Caution is recommended, the following content may be triggering to some audiences.

She became my queen.

From a woman I couldn't handle looking at to the one I didn't want to take my eyes off, Y/N became the most precious of my treasures.

And perhaps it was the reason why finding that piece of metal hidden beneath her pillow was such a huge betrayal to me.

Perhaps it was for loving her too deeply that I let out raw screams of rage that woke up the whole Hall when I found that symbol of her lies.

I could remember every trace of our story.

The day I chose her from the line of our Saxon's slaves because she noticed I was in pain.

"I know how to care for these pains, my lord."

Her ointments, her treatments, how slowly she eased the pain of my body more than any healer was able to do. How, one night at a time, it brought her closer to me like a companion.

How it made me talk to her, be gentler, try to get her smiles.

How her presence became the easiest way to get mine.

My fingers pressed that piece of retorted metal, remembering how deep I'd fallen in love with her. How she promised she would leave her past for me. How I asked her to come home with me. To come into my life. To be mine, and no one else's.

Every single promise of hers was broken by that piece's presence.

How could I trust her when she was betraying me like that? Laying beside me with that symbol as if it wasn't a crime by itself against my trust, against my love.

Against everything.

"How could you?" I yelled when she came into our room, attracted by my screams. "How could you lie to me like this?"

The metal cross, made of gold and silver, hanging from my fingers for her major shock and surprise.

"Ivar..."

"No!" I yelled again.

My voice was as loud as the pain was big in my heart.

"I've been trusting you all these years, Y/N. I trusted your promises! I made you my wife!" I said, looking at her with fierce and sharp blues. "I made you my queen... I gave you everything and this... This is how you repay my love!"

"Ivar no!" she insisted, trying to approach. "It's not what you think..."

I pushed her away, watching as she fell near the fireplace.

"Don't come to me with more of your lies, woman!" I kept yelling, furious. "What more, Y/N?" I asked.

My eyes deep inside of hers.

"What more about you is a lie? What more did you tell me you would do that you're not doing, my dear wife? Uh? What more?!"

Her tears started rolling down her face, but I could see her eyes were focused on the piece in my hand, and it just made me angrier. She wasn't really feeling bad nor guilty about lying to me.

No.

Her major concern was that piece in my hands. That cross was so beloved that she could ignore my deepest wounds to look at it with all the fear of Midgard in her eyes.

She wasn't afraid of losing me the same way she was terrified by the idea of losing that scrap of meaningless metal I had in my hands.

I've seen it in red.

I didn't see when I threw that shit in the fire, hearing with contempt the yell of despair her voice converted into. Watching with deception while she burned her own fingers to pick that piece from the fire, hurting her hands I'd caressed so many times.

Everything just to have back that meaningless symbol of her treason.

The metal didn't even have time to get warm enough to be damaged, but she had marks from the burning wood she had touched fearlessly for that insignificant proof of her crime.

"Is it this strong?" I asked, looking at her with disdain. "Your faith in him is so..."

"It was my child's!" she cried out loud, cutting my voice.

Freezing me in place when her sobs broke her voice, and I saw her bringing that cross close to her heart, embracing it with her wounded hands as if it was the most precious thing in this world.

"It was my child's crucifix," she sobbed. "It was everything that's left from my baby boy. I didn't have time to pick up his clothes. I couldn't pick up anything. This is everything that's left."

My shock was maybe as big as my confusion.

"You... Had a child?" I asked, totally stunned by those words.

Still trembling, Y/N lifted her face, looking at me with thick tears in her eyes full of sorrow.

"My little Rafael..." she mumbled, making my face frown with all the love in the way she spoke his name.

I could remember hearing something about a Rafael from Bishop Heahmund, cycles ago. Something about an arch-angel or something like that.

"I named him after the archangel of healing, begging God to heal his awful pain. Begging anyone who could bless my hands to relieve his constant misery," she continued.

Crushing my heart with the sigh of my mother's eyes on hers.

She was speaking of her Rafael the same way mother used to speak about... Me.

"He was my everything. My one and only child my husband didn't want to accept. He left me because of Rafael's condition, saying I'd given birth to a demon. But My child wasn't a demon!" she yelled.

Defending her child... The same way mother would do to me...

"He's not a monster!"

I swallowed dry as she continued, making that knot in my throat almost suffocating.

"Rafael was just a child in pain. His legs were like yours," she cried.

Her burnt fingers caressing the jewel in her hands.

"Sometimes, I couldn't even hold my son without hurting him," she mumbled painfully. "Sometimes, even the minimum movement would break his little bones, so I was twice as careful when doing anything to my little angel. But..."

The pause in her voice filled my heart with sorrow.

I had never scratched that part of her story. I could imagine why.

I could imagine how it would end.

"First, I thought he was indeed a little angel God decided to take back to the sky. Then... Then the anger came. Why would God make such an innocent angel suffer like that? Why giving him to me if I would have to bury his little broken body with my bare hands? I yelled at God. I cried at him. But he never answered me. And then... I got revolted. My little Rafael wasn't with me anymore. And it was God's fault for doing him that way! It was God's fault for allowing my child to suffer. It was my fault for producing him imperfectly. It was everyone's fault!" she paused, swallowing her sobs for a moment. "And when your men came, when your faith came, and I've heard your words about yourself, I finally understood. It was no one's fault. It was his fate. It was my fate. And God didn't make him like that to suffer. No. The gods had given him to me as a gift so he could spend the most beautiful days of my life in my arms. The gods had cut the thread of his life to spare him from suffering cause his condition was worse than yours. And he wouldn't survive as long as you did."

Her words were killing me inside, softly.

She'd found relief in my faith. She'd found an answer to her questions in my gods. And there I was, hurting her because of a stupid necklace.

"The gods showed me their mercy bringing you into my life so I could understand my child's fate. And so..." Y/N looked at me. "So I thought they wouldn't be mad if I saved this little memento. It means nothing the faith it carries, Ivar. It's not Christ's cross anymore. This... This is my remembrance of my sweet Rafael. This doesn't turn me to the skies, Ivar. This makes me remember his tiny little fingers trying to catch this cross in my hands, or his giggles whenever it would shine for him to see."

Her voice broke. The sobs engulfed her. And I saw her embracing the necklace again as if she could embrace her child the gods had taken from her so soon.

How stupid I was. How unfair could I be?

I sat in my bed, taking off my braces and dragging myself closer to her, bringing my bandages and ointment I took from my nightstand. Slowly, I took the small piece from her hands, treating it with the proper respect when I placed it gently on her neck, carrying for her hands and bandaging the burns after spreading the ointment over them.

I kissed her fingers and cupped her face, kissing her forehead and wiping her tears.

"I'm sorry," I said, looking into her eyes. "I'm deeply sorry for what I did, my love. Forgive me, please." I asked.

No shame of showing my regret, gently caressing her cheeks.

She leaned into my hands, so mine. Her eyes closed as she felt my caresses, sighing as if they could soothe the pain in her heart.

"I didn't lie to you, my heart. I swear," she mumbled.

"Shhh..." I said, touching her lips gently. "I know. I was wrong," I mumbled, touching our foreheads, slowly nuzzling my nose to hers.

"He taught me how to take care of you, my love," she said, opening her eyes so deep into mine. "I've learned with my child how to soothe your pain. He was so important in my life... I would've never known how to care for you if it wasn't for his existence. He allowed us to exist. And I'm so grateful I had him, although it was for such little time, I'm grateful."

I held her in my arms, cradling her body against mine. And I stayed there a long time trying to compensate for my horrible behavior.

When she fell asleep that night, I went out of our house. I crawled up on the hill, and I gathered stones. I placed them all together, and marked them with runes, placing some flowers and small decorations around them.

I made it as if it was my own child. And I prayed for him, asking the gods he could hear me that single night.

"I don't know where you are. If with Hel or in heaven, as the Christians believe. But I want you to know I'll take care of her. I swear on my arm ring I'll never make her cry like this once again. And when your brothers and sisters come, I'll tell them about you. I'll tell them your story. So, you shall live through them. So, you shall live forever."

After that, I saw my dear Y/N with her precious cross here or there. She didn't have to hide it from me anymore, so, sometimes, I would see her holding the small jewel with tenderness. But now, it had a whole new meaning to me.

And I knew, somewhere in the afterlife, a child was very happy for the loving mother that brought him into this world someday.

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#history vikings #imagine vikings #ivar #ivar the boneless #ivar ragnarsson #ivar's heathen army #sister wives #htgi #shot

[peachbear88]

Lights

A/N: Inspired by "Lights" by Elijah Woods. Highschool AU :)

Y/BF/N = Your best friend's name

------------

"Y/N, we got an order for 2 original burgers and small fries." Wanda, your coworker calls. You grunt, flipping the beef patties on the grill swiftly before dishing them out onto buns with lettuce, tomato and cheese on them. You proceed to whirl around, lifting the fry cage up and out of the deep fryer, dumping them in a fry carton. Leaning through the small window between the kitchen and the restaurant front, you slide the meal through, winking at Wanda, who picks the meal up, blushing.

"Y/L/N! You better not be flirting back there!" Your best friend roars, leaving your face burning along with Wanda who's giggling.

"Shut up!" You shout back, attempting to hide the blush creeping up your neck.

-------------

After a long, gruelling 5 hours of your minimum wage, part time job, the three of you drag yourself out of the fast-food restaurant and into your beat up pickup truck, piling into it.

"Alright, Y/BF/N, we're dropping you off first, then I'll drop you off Wanda." You explain, starting the engine as Wanda gives you a quick peck on the cheek. Y/BF/N wolf-whistles and you glare, pressing a quick possessive kiss to Wanda's lips before pulling out of the restaurant's parking lot.

------------

"Alright babe, this is your stop." You exclaim, putting your truck in park. Wanda looks at you longingly, clutching your hand tightly. You sigh, running your hand through her hair gently. "How about I walk you to the door?" She instantly perks up, her large green eyes staring back at you. You smile and the two of you exit the truck, her backpack slung over your shoulder. She clings to you, making the two of you take your time to cross the street. When you finally arrive, Wanda pulls you around, a pout on her face. You caress her defined features, pulling her chin up a little to give her a small kiss. She whines when you pull away but you take a deep breath, steeling your nerves and knock on the door. It swings open to reveal the scowling face of Ireyna, Wanda's mother. She never liked you. The moment you started dating Wanda, she raised her defenses. Quickly ushering Wanda into the house, she snatches the backpack viciously from your outstretched hand.

"You need to stay away from my daughter. She's an angel and you, you vermin are not a saint. She could do so much better then the likes of you and yet for some unknown reason, she chooses you. I'm warning you, stay awa-." She's interrupted as Wanda tugs on her arm gently.

"Mama!" She gives her mother a sharp glance and Ireyna backs down, shooting you one last glare before slamming the door in your face. You sigh, running your hands through your hair before trudging back to your pickup truck.

------------

You arrive at your dingy apartment, flopping onto the couch before yanking out your phone. Messages from Wanda flood in and you smile to yourself. Your girlfriend of 6 years kept profusely apologizing for her mother's behaviour but your brushed it off, reassuring her everything was fine. After a good hour of texting her, you scrolled through your contacts, stopping at your best friend's name.

"What do you want?"

"I need your help tomorrow.

------------

"Seriously?" Your friend stared at the jewellry before eyeing you unbelievingly. "Your broke ass wants to buy her a ring?" You smack them before returning your attention to the multiple glass cases.

"What do you think about this one?" You ask. They peer over your shoulder at the silver band in your hand. It's thin, with small green gemstones embedded in it. "It's perfect. It'll bring out her eyes." You decide, not bothering to wait for your friend's opinion. They roll their eyes, following you to the register.

"So you're seriously going to propose? Tell me the real reason why." They pester you as you pull your wallet out, handing the ring to the man behind the cashier. "It's because of her mom isn't it." You freeze.

"Okay, I won't deny, I do want to impress her mom but it's been 6 years. I want to give her what she deserves." You explain as the man extends his hand for the payment.

"That'll be $1,800." You choke, whirling back around to him. Quickly, you scan through your wallet, finding only a few $20 bills. "Loan me?" You plead your best friend but they empty their pockets to show they have nothing.

"Y/N. We work minimum wage and we're practically broke. We can't afford it." Y/BF/N explains and you sigh.

"Sorry for the inconvenience sir. Guess we can't afford it." You bid goodbye to the man, who gives you a small smile as the two of you exit the store. An idea forms in your head and you turn to your friend. "Hold on. What if I get Wanda to move in with me and I work extra to get the ring?" Your friend opens their mouth to oppose but you don't let them finish, running at top speed towards your truck, dialling Wanda's number.

"Y/N?" Wanda's voice comes through the line, slightly tired.

"Want to move in with me?"

------------

Wanda's smile is huge as she walks into your apartment, bag slung over her shoulder. You wrap your arms around her, pulling her into a tight hug.

"Thank you for doing this. I know you're risking a lot." You whisper and she runs her fingers through your hair, calming you.

"I will do anything for you lyubov'." She reassures before making her way through the unit, exploring. "So where's the bedroom?" You chuckle sheepishly, rubbing your neck.

"About that... I don't have a bed." She whirls around, looking at you with concerned eyes.

"So where have you been sleeping?"

"Air mattress in the living room." You sigh, dropping your head into your hands. "Maybe your mom was right. I'm not good enough for you." You feel a pair of warm hands pull your own down from your face.

"Don't say that. We'll work through anything and everything together. One step at a time." She murmurs and you sigh, kissing her forehead.

"You're amazing."

------------

You were sitting on the couch, phone in hand as you scroll through your social media. A light snore came from beside you and you look down at the air mattress to see Wanda, book laying on her chest, her head lolled to the side, asleep. You smile, slowly lowering yourself onto the mattress, removing the book from her grasp and wrapping your arms around her.

"I love you."

------------

"Thank you so much for watching after my kids." You give her a small, tired smile. You'd recently taken up a babysitting gig to help achieve your goal of buying the ring.

"It's no problem ma'am. Just doing my job." She smiles at you before slapping a hundred bill in your hand. You stare at it before making futile attempts to shove it back into her hand.

"No! Keep it. You have no idea how much of a lifesaver you are." You thank her profusely before rushing out the house and zipping towards the ring shop. You were greeted by the friendly man from before who had kept the ring on hold for you. Finally. Finally you could show Wanda exactly how much she meant to you. You thanked the man, hopping into your truck and zooming back to the apartment complex, your speedometer never dipping below 50mph. Honestly, it was a miracle you weren't arrested.

------------

"I'm home Wanda!" You cried excitedly but were met with silence. A dark figure sat on the couch. You approached her slowly and cautiously. "Wanda?" A small sob escapes from her. You surge forwards, wrapping your arms around her small body. "What's wrong? Babe, look at me." She glares at you and shoves her phone towards you.

"Are you cheating on me?" You stare blankly at her, before looking at the photo. A photo of you outside the babysitting woman's house.

"You followed me?" You ask, your heart cracking at the distrust of your girlfriend.

"With good reason! You're never around anymore! You're always off doing something else and you won't tell me what." She yells, standing up while tears pour down her face. "I guess my mom really was right. You aren't to be trusted." She grabs her pre-packed bag, brushing past you.

"Wanda wait! Please! I'm not cheating on you. There's a reason why I'm not around anymore." You explain desperately and she stops.

"Why?" You sigh inwardly.

"I can't tell you. It'd ruin the surprise." Wanda snorts, opening the front door.

"I hope it was worth losing me then." She slams the door and you flinch, hitting your forehead.

"Stupid, stupid stupid."

-----------

You knock tentatively on the door of Wanda's house, praying that she would answer. Unluckily, her mother answers, glaring at you.

"Hi Mrs. Maximoff, is Wanda home?" She glares at you, slapping you. Your hand flies up to your face where she slapped you.

"No. I'm done with this. You've hurt my daughter once, I'll be damned if I let you do it again. If I ever so much as see you, I'll rip your arms off and shove them up your ass!" She yells. You hold your ground, proffering the bouquet of roses to her, ring box and letter hidden deep inside of it.

"Okay. Just please, I'm begging you, give her this and I'll never bother you or your family again." You plead. Her menacing demeanor falters as she grabs the flowers. "Thank you." With that final note, you stalk back out into the rain, letting it consume you.

------------

"Wanda honey? This came for you." Ireyna places the bouquet gently on Wanda's bed before closing the door behind her. Tentatively, Wanda prowls through the bouquet, pulling the letter and the ring box out. She pries the letter open, reading your words.

Wanda,

I know you probably hate me and never want to see me again but I feel that I must clarify what happened. That woman was offering me a job. A babysitting job to be exact. The reason I was taking extra jobs and not spending as much time with you was because I wanted to purchase something. Something for you. To show exactly how much you mean to me. I don't expect you to forgive me because I now know how much I hurt you. I was so blinded by the idea of an object that I neglected the real thing in front of me. I want you to have this as a token of my love.

The girl from your local fast food restaurant,

Y/N

She opens the black ring box, tears threatening to spill from her emerald green eyes. Inside, the silver band, embedded with green gemstones sits peacefully. The tears fall as she slips it onto her finger, almost subconsciously knowing that she will never see you again.

"I love you too."

-------------

Oof. Angst. Yikes. I told you @peabrain112. I told you.

Taglist: @username23345 @musicinourlips @gingerbreadcookieforlife @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @trikuismybitch @ima-gi--na-tion @nicole-rayleigh-hot

#wanda maximoff #wanda x reader #wanda x you #wanda fluff #marvel

[thatharringrovehoe]

So I've been playing Dishonored which is my favorite game and this popped into my head so now you all have to suffer with me. (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*.✧

He's so fucking cold. Like he’s been plunged into a lake mid winter and can’t find his way to the surface. Hands shaking, Billy sifts clumsily through the box of his mother’s things he keeps hidden in the back of his closet. He's found that if he thinks about the good times, picnics at the beach under the California sun, the thing oozing it's way though his brain losses just a bit of it's grip. Leaves Billy with enough motor function to stumble around his bedroom, trying to find the right pieces. And fucking hell it’s been so long since he's done this. He can remember helping his Ma when he was little, chubby fingers clenched tight in her cotton sundress as she arranged the items on the table just right. Pricked her finger to draw sigils in a language long forgotten, her voice a soft cadence through the bedroom as she hummed Billy’s favorite lullaby. No words, just a beautiful mournful thing. Humming a song of grieving loss. Billy doesn't know why he likes it so much.

“Remember baby. When you offer your gifts they have to be special. Well loved. Something that brings you joy every time you use it.”

His mother kept a pair of earrings on the cloth covered table. She never wore them when his father was home. Took them out and put them back on the little rickety stand in the back of her closet every day before he came back from work. Dangling silver daggers with the onyx beads. Billy shoved one straight through his left earlobe when he turned fifteen and has barely taken it out since.

His Ma told him that everything he built his shrine with had to mean something. Had to be something he treasured. From the fabric to the stand itself. So Billy tried his best. Draped his best leather jacket over the milk crate that held all of his favorite hair products. Placed his Ma's Fleetwood Mac album next to one of his mother's silver earrings (the one he always wears), arranged as neatly as he can manage. He’d had to prick his thumb seven times because to his dawning horror it kept healing over. Just another tally mark towards something being really fucking wrong. And he remembers the warehouse. Can still feel the slimy caustic sludge being pumped down his throat by a fucking tentacle. But he’d hoped it had been a dream, a nightmare from reading to many Lovecraft novels. Billy curses as he slices open his thumb for what feels like the millionth time.

Apparently not.

He's drawn the characters just how he remembers. His mother had made him practice every day, showing him each and every shape and line, drawn in colorful crayon. She gave him a cookie every time he got them right. Never hung them up on the fridge though. Didn't want his father to see.

He can feel the shadow creeping through his blood, dragging it’s claws against his veins. It might not know exactly what he’s doing yet, but it must be able to feel the intention. Billy thinks of ocean waves and a soft hand running through his curls. Fights the pull at the back of his mind to just give in. To sleep. His hands shake harder.

Fuck, where is it?! Billy combs through records and trinkets, a bottle of her perfume. He’s desperately hoping it didn't get lost in the move because his mother never taught him how to make one. Hell, he's pretty certain that he wouldn't be able to find the pieces he needs in Hawkins anyway. Not like Melvalds has a supernatural voodoo isle.

Then finally, finally he finds it. Lifting up his mother’s satin scarf it comes tumbling out to land on the floor with a clatter. Bleached white and beaten smooth by the waves, it's about the size of a sand dollar. Billy picks it up, places it in the palm of his hand. He still remembers the day he found it out on the shore. Washed up between some sea glass, the leather bindings still somehow soft even soaked with salt water. Etched with symbols and shapes Billy will never understand. When Billy showed it to his mother an unreadable expression crossed her face. It was that evening she showed him her shrine.

The rune seems to hum against his skin, an otherworldly song from far away ghosting past his ears. The thing that’s trying to Shanghai Billy’s brain writhes. It's angry, but more than that it’s fucking terrified and Billy has never been more sure of anything in his life. This was a good idea. But his limbs are getting colder, heavier. Whatever this evil piece of shit is it doesn’t like what Billy’s doing. He has to fight against the deadening of his limbs, crawling towards his shitty attempt at a shrine from his place on the floor. His vision is starting to grow dark when he finally clutches on to the milk crate, placing the rune between the earring and his cassette tape. And he knows that there's no guarantee. That whatever his Ma prayed to every night never shielded her from Neil’s fists, didn’t do a damn thing as the cancer slowly drained her down to nothing. That sometimes (most times) when someone would call out to the void the only thing they heard in return was their own disappointment. But he's got no other options. This is his trump card. His last resort. If this hocus pocus bullshit doesn’t work then Billy is up shit creek without a paddle. With a frustrated shout against the nightmare pulling him in, Billy begs.

“Please! Fuck, help me! I'll do anything, c’mon just- please!”

The air in Billy’s bedroom all of a sudden seems to shudder. The shadows flicker and meld together, reaching outwards. The sound of dry fall leaves blowing in the wind, a wail of a thousand dying worlds ricochets off the walls. Then nothing. Billy scrunches his eyes shut against the sting of tears. Fuck, of course it didn’t work. Story of his life. He called for help and just like always it doesn't mean shit. No one is coming to save him.

“Well well well. Certainly been a long time since someone summoned me like that. Very old school.”

Billy’s eyes snap open, the surprise and adrenaline enough to fight the heaving weight of his limbs to raise his head. And there, perched on his shitty milk crate shrine, sits the most beautiful boy he's ever seen. He's got hair the color of soil after it rains. High cheekbones and full lips, milky white skin dotted with a constellation of beauty marks. Billy didn't know what he expected but it certainly wasn't this. The boy god is dressed in a swanky leather coat the color of charcoal with pants to match. Eyes like an oil spill, inky black and endless. With a good look at Billy, they narrow dangerously.

“I thought I fucking told you not to touch this world. You want a repeat of last time?”

Whatever deity he summoned looks pissed as hell. Did he not do it right? Maybe the items weren’t good enough. That would be just his luck. He's so confused he almost doesn’t notice it right away. The shadow slowly working it’s way through his body has stopped, retreated a little even.

“I-... I don't know what you’re talking about. Please, there's something wrong with me. Something got put inside of me and I need it out. Please, help me.”

Billy hasn’t begged since his Ma was takin her last breath in that damn hospice bed. Didn't see the point when it always got you nowhere. But now he can't make himself stop. Cuz he's never been this scared before. The things this monster inside him wants him to do. It's so strong, like he’s fighting a steam roller. He's got no hope on his own.

The boy sitting on his best leather jacket stills. Cocks his head to the side slightly, considering. Then those pretty pink lips are spreading out into a gleeful smirk. Slides off the shrine to settle on his knees in front of Billy. Reaches out his hand to cup Billy’s jaw gentle enough it makes him want to cry.

“You can't get a good enough hold of this one can you? Interesting. Tell me trouble maker, what's your name?”

That voice, deep and ethereal, seems to echo from all around him. He can feel it vibrate in his bones. He wants, no, needs to answer.

“Billy. Billy Hargrove.”

The boy smiles now, all gleaming pearly whites. If Billy looks long enough reality starts to flicker. And for just a second all he can see is teeth sharp like knives in a Cheshire grin. There for a moment and gone in a flash. The hand on his jaw tightens just the slightest fraction.

“Well Billy Hargrove. You seem to find yourself in quite the predicament. That parasite sucking on your soul is an old acquaintance of mine. He's one nasty little shit.”

If a brain washing shadow monster could feel indignant he’s pretty sure that’s what's happening now. Whatever was hijacking Billy's mind has curled up somewhere tight, sunk it’s teeth in deep. Cornered like a threatened animal.

“Please, I’ll do anything you want. I can’t… I can’t fight it. It's too much.”

There’s enough tears leakin down his face that it's soaking the front of his shirt. The boy is giving him this look, almost amused. The longer he holds Billy’s jaw the more the monster losses his grip, and Billy is ready to do anything at this point. Because that thing stuck to his brain wants him to find people. Feed it people. Wants Billy to drink all the chemicals in the supply shed at the pool. Told Billy that if he tried to fight it would take Max first and he can't let that happen.

The boy seems to come to a decision, grabs Billy’s hands to help him shakily to this feet. He doesn’t let go even when they’re both standing.

“You know there’s not many who can fight his hold for this long. I'm impressed.”

He steps forward until his chest is practically pressed up against Billy's. He smells like ozone and smoke, bottomless black eyes trained on stormy blue. Reaches up to tangle his fingers into Billy’s curls, sending tingles across his scalp. Smiles wider at the small noise that escapes Billy's throat.

“I'll help you Billy Hargrove. But in return, you have to do something for me.”

Billy's nodding before he can even really register what’s being said. Anything. He'd do whatever this pretty boy asked as long as he keeps touching Billy like this. Gentle, with a reverence no one has ever bothered to show.

“I need you to kick this little shit back into the hole he crawled out of. Can you do that for me Billy? I wanna see how your story pans out trouble maker. Wanna see what you do when someone gives you a chance.”

Billy nods again, breathless. The boy chuckles, the sound saccharine. Like warm honey dripping down his spine.

“Gunna have to use your words baby.”

Billy swallows, the click of his dry throat loud in the warm personal bubble they’ve created.

“Yes. Yeah. I’ll do it. Whatever you want pretty boy, please.”

It comes out a whisper but the boy hears it all the same. The boy smiles bright, pulls Billy forward. Soft warm lips press against his own and Billy is floating. He's never been kissed like this before. Slow and deep, the boy's tongue pressing in to curl and slide. Stuff him full. Billy's shaking for a whole other reason now. Reaches out to grip the boy's coat, cool to the touch where Billy is burning. Fire rushing through his veins, and he's already so close just from this. Whimpers brokenly into the kiss.

The boy pulls him in impossibly closer, slots his thigh between Billy’s legs, pushes up up up. And Billy is right fucking there, grinds down as he swaps spit with an old god in his shitty bedroom with the peeling yellow paint and the door that locks from the outside. Can feel the tell tale tingle spreading behind his navel.

“ ‘m gunna cum! Fuck, more please!” Billy mumbles curses into the kiss, breath hitching as his balls draw tight. The boy smiles against his mouth, yanks his curls back to bite into the meat of his neck and Billy’s gone, pulsing rope after rope of cum into his underwear.

“Oh my- .. Fuuuuuck. Yes! Uhhhnn!” He's panting like a dog as he slumps forward into the boys shoulder. Gentle fingers card through his hair as aftershocks zap up and down his body. A kiss is pressed behind his ear, a soft warmth flooding his core. He can't feel the shadow anywhere.

“So good for me sweet thing. Makes me want to keep you.”

It's said so quiet, like the boy doesn’t intend for it to be heard. Billy presses his face into his neck. There's no heartbeat under the boy's skin.

“You could. I want you to.” Whoever this is, whatever he is, he came for Billy. Answered his literal cry for help when no one else did. He doesn't know what he has to offer but he wants to give this impossible boy everything.

The boy in question hums. Brings Billy's left hand up to kiss the back of it. His skin feels hot under his lips, bordering on uncomfortable. Like stepping on sun scorched pavement. When the boy pulls back there’s a tattoo on his hand. A strange design that looks vaguely like a compass. It's the same mark as the one on the middle of the rune sitting behind them.

“I haven't given my mark to someone quite so special in a while. Try not to disappoint me Billy Hargrove.”

The boy goes to pull away but Billy still has his hand clenched tight on his coat. Panic wells up in his chest. Doesn't want to end whatever this is quite yet.

“Wait! What’s-…what's your name?” Which is a valid question he thinks. And probably one he should have asked at some point before he started grinding his dick on the guys leg. Oh well.

“I've had many names, none if which would hold any significance for you. Call me what you want trouble maker. I'll be there when you need me.”

Billy believes him. Then between one blink and the next the boy is gone, tendrils of dissipating smoke the only evidence he was ever there. A deep voice whispers from nowhere and everywhere.

“Ask your sister about the monsters in the woods.”

On the shrine the only thing that remains is the rune, both his gifts having apparently been accepted. Billy gives a hysterical bark of laughter at the thought of some higher being listening to Fleetwood Mac somewhere out in the void. It gives him an idea. He drags his lips across the fresh mark on his hand, mumbles into his skin.

“Thanks Stevie.”

#i don't know what this is but here ya go! #Outsider!Steve #Billy Hargrove #harringrove #dishonored au #yes Billy gets powers but i haven't decided what they are yet #that hoe writes #stranger things #Neil you better watch out my boy has a literal old god for a boyfriend now

[genshinobsession]

you and me: always forever [childe x reader]

summary : “i hate you.” the words tumbled out in choked sobs, gloved hands pressed against your wet cheeks, “i hate you.”

warnings : yandere, mentions of toxic relationships, mentions of kidnapping, spoilers(?)

authors note : childe brainrot, spell-checked, not proof-read, written, once again, at three in the morning, enjoy

“I hate you.”

THE WORDS ESCAPED YOUR LIPS before you could stop them. The dead air grew tense - more than it once was - and your grip tightened around the plate.

“Oh?”

It was a simple, questioning word. Yet, the lingering meaning behind it sent shivers down your spine. Childe - or rather Tartaglia as he requested you called him - was a man with a lack of remorse. He was irritatingly smart for his age, knew easily how to manipulate and play others, and was reckless and ready for a fight. His direct nature often led to unfavorable situations but it was what drew you to the blue-eyed male from the start. He lacked simplicity, a veil of authenticity in which most had. In your line of work, liers and cheap-stacks were common and irritating. Most often than not, you were able to read their intentions with simple social cues. A brush of the coat, glance to the side, a quiver of the lip, people were like open books whose pages were inked with misfortune. But, Childe was a different case.

He was honest, yet deceiving. Every grin, every shrug, every laugh, every glance, he was a puzzle - an enigma, just waiting to be solved. Perhaps, that’s the reason you ended up like this. Maybe your talent of questioning had led you astray.

If only you had kept your pretty little mouth shut, he would say.

It was fine. There was no use in wallowing in your mistakes. Grief and guilt wouldn’t free you from his clutches. Not when there was still more you wanted out of life.

“Do tell,” his words brought you back, a teasing, yet sharp tone to his innocent words, “What is it you despise about me?”

What you despised about him? Archon, you had a whole list of things you hated about him!

You despised him - his line of work! For Archon's sake, he hurt others for a living! You hated his genuine desire to destroy anyone and everything. You despised his sugar-coated lies, his ridiculous smirk, annoying laugh, stupid face, everything about him was utterly disgusting. You hated the way he looked at you - eye glazed and bloodshot with a hint of malice and amusement. Hated the mischievous grins he passed your way, lips caked with a familiar red substance. Hated his touch, the pads of gloves brushing against your wet cheeks as he held you close...

A choked sob escaped your lips. The edges of your plate digging into your palms. Tartaglia set his hands over your trembling ones, guiding the fragile dish towards the table. His hair brushed against your head as he towered over your trembling form.

“I hate you.”

The words, no longer laced with sincerity, wilted across your lips. Tears trickled down your inflamed checks and you didn't even have the luxury to wipe them away.

The orange-haired male hummed against your scalp, fingers clenching your wrists so tightly you believed he would break them again.

“Two hundred and seventy-one,” he said and your eyes narrowed in confusion. “That’s two hundred and seventy-one days straight you’ve said you’ve hated me. When will this little act of yours end? I’m getting a bit bored over here.”

Your heart pounded against your chest. Eyes the size of dinner plates, you sat silently and your brain processed his words. You weren’t sure if you were appalled at the fact that he had counted each and every day you said those words to him or the fact that he had been counting each day he had held you captive for. You didn’t have time to answer, rather, you watched as he gently brushed his knuckles against your cheek, gloves discarded to the side. Ocean blue eyes gazed and your broken form before letting a chuckle leave his lips.

“How cute, my little mouse had gone silent.” a fox-like grin painted his face and you couldn’t decide if you wanted to curse at him or sob your heart. “Why don’t we cut this little show of yours up, hm?”

You sniffled. Taking slow, meticulous breaths to regain a sense of comfort. “W-what?”

He sighed. Eyes locking with yours. Perhaps there had been a moment in time where he had a spark - a hint of life in his eyes. Maybe, if you had met before things would have been different. Even so, a difference in actions would change the outcome.

“Face it - you don’t hate me, in fact, it’s the farthest thing from it.”

What? How ridiculous! Of course, you hated him! He was vermin, scum of region, a killer, a monster, every second you prayed for his demise. So...why? Why did the cold touch of his hands soothe your trembling heart, why did a single glance cure your rapid thoughts, why did his familiar smile bring one upon your face too-

“Ah-“ your eyes widened once more, a frantic gasp escaping your mouth.

A grin - no, smile, was plastered against Tartaglia’s pale face. Lips pressed against your neck he muttered in content, ”It seems you’ve finally realized it. You kept me waiting, little mouse”

Fresh tears escaped your tired eyes and you struggled against his tight hold. “No, no, no, no, no-“

His palm smacked against the lower half of your face, effectively shutting you up.

“Two hundred and seventy-one days - the time in which it took you to realize one, singular thing.” you let out a desperate shriek, the sound muffled against his palm. You begged, cursed, and cried, for him not to continue. Because if he did, denial would no longer be your defensive mechanic. And without your defensive mindset, Tartaglia would have complete control over you.

Replacing his tear, drool-stained, he pressed his lips upon yours. The lingering taste of tonight’s dinner making its way across your tongue. It was suffocating, his words and kisses, and you cried in despair once his lips parted with yours.

“You. Love. Me.”

He made sure to sound out each and every word, taking extra care to drink in your hopeless expression. Despair and disgust mixed in with hope and relief, all bundled up into one confused look on your face.

Tartaglia breathed a sigh of relief, arms tightened around your frame as you frantically muttered to yourself.

“I-I love you? I l-love you?! I love you! I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you-“

“There, there,” he spoke, cradling you in his arms like a mother would their child. “Now, we can finally be one.”

Your head fell limp against his chest, hands grasping at the space around you. You didn’t notice - not care - for the soft look in his dead eyes, the way his hands grabbed yours in an act of comfort. His vision dug into your back and he laughed at your shocking epiphany.

“It’s alright, love. Now, it’s just you and I. Together, we can become one. You and me - together forever, till death due us part.”

- vintage

#genshin impact childe #fanfic #my fic #yandere #yandere childe x reader #genshin imapct #genshin x reader #childe x reader #reader insert #writing #imagines #yandere x reader

[adsdragonlover]

You Matter To Me

Coda to 15x19

Wc: 2k, Tags: fluff, pie, happy ending, first kiss

Also on ao3

It’s been three weeks since they won, but Dean still isn’t happy.

He’s been driving around the country, searching for something he knows he won’t find. The thing he wants that he knows he can’t have. He lost his chance.

Eventually, he ends up at a diner.

Lulu’s Pies, it says in softly glowing neon cursive above the building.

The bell above the door chimes as Dean pushes it open and steps inside. It’s pleasantly warm compared to the cold night outside, but Dean still feels cold. At least on the inside.

He heads to the bar and sits down on one of the stools.

With a cursory and habitual glance around the diner, he realizes he’s the only one here. At least the only customer.

That makes sense, he supposes. It’s barely 3 AM and the diner is plopped in the middle of bumfuck nowhere. The only other signs of life in the area are the long winding road outside and the shitty old gas station a few miles back.

To be honest, Dean doesn’t quite know why he came here. Maybe he needed a break from the drive.

He wanted to get some pie - the place was literally named for its pies - but that was mainly out of habit rather than actual desire. It’s been hard to want any of the things he used to enjoy, not since…

He cuts off that train of thought with a scowl to himself.

The waitress, a sweet looking woman with long, wavy, dark blonde hair and deep blue eyes approaches Dean from the other side of the bar. “What can I get for you, sugar?” she asks with a warm voice, rich with a soft southern accent. It reminds him, inexplicably, of his mother.

“I-“ Dean stops. “I don’t know,” he admits quietly.

The waitress, Jenna, according to her name tag, smiles sympathetically. “That’s alright,” she says sweetly. “It can be hard to know what you want, especially when you lose someone dear to you.”

Dean frowns. “How did you-” He begins.

Jenna smiles sadly at Dean. “There are some things a mother just knows, and heartbreak is one of them.” Her eyes are understanding, and painfully blue - too close to Castiel’s eyes for comfort. Dean looks away. “You look like you could use a slice of pie,” she says, handing him a paper dessert menu, specifically made for this week. “They’re all made from scratch, and made from the heart. Take all the time you need, honey. I’ll be back with a cup of coffee for you, it’s on the house.”

Jenna’s words soothe something raw and stinging inside Dean, and he offers her a small smile as she heads back into the kitchen.

He looks over the menu with a tired sigh. Not too long ago, Dean would’ve killed to eat here. All the pies sound awesome, and something about the waitress makes it very clear she puts effort into her pies.

Still, his heart isn’t really in it.

When Jenna comes back with a mug of coffee and a smile, Dean nods thankfully, but shakes his head when she asks if he’s ready to order. “I just- I need more time,” he says.

He isn’t just talking about the food. Not anymore.

Jenna nods. “Just give me a call when you’re ready, hun,” and then she’s gone.

Dean isn’t really sure how long he sits there, staring blankly at the dessert menu, coffee warming up one of his hands, his soul feeling achingly empty.

He's snapped out of his stupor by the sound of the bell above the door chiming to indicate someone else entering.

Dean’s eyes are glued to the menu still, reading the blurb under Heartbreak Pie. It's a black bottomed cherry pie, and the picture stops him.

He hears footsteps walk over, but he ignores them. They come closer until the stranger sits down on the stool to the right of Dean.

Dean feels irritation flash through him briefly, the diner is completely empty, and Dean’s positive he’s radiating “leave me alone” vibes, but for some reason the stranger decides to sit next to him anyway.

The irritation is gone as fast as it appeared however, Dean just doesn’t have the energy. Not anymore.

A couple days after they’d won, after Jack had left and Sam had reunited with a newly brought back Eileen, Dean had broken down in the bunker.

He’d lost it a little, had cried and cried and cried for days. Begging and pleading and praying. But Cas hadn’t come back.

Not long after, the sadness had turned to anger. Anger at Cas, for making the deal in the first place. For loving Dean so much it killed him. For telling him and then leaving before Dean could say it back. Anger at Jack, for dying and causing the deal, for becoming God and not bringing Cas back, for leaving Dean just like Cas had, just like Sam.

But mostly, Dean had been angry with himself. For not saying it back when Cas told him, for just standing there, for being the reason Cas died, for being too stubborn and too scared to say anything sooner, back when he’d had the chance. He was angry at himself for not being everything that Cas apparently thought he was.

Those few days were fueled entirely by anger in Dean’s opinion. He knew, deep down, that the anger was caused by love, but he didn’t want to think about that. Because if Cas was right, if he was right about Dean then there really wasn’t any good reason why Dean had never said anything.

Those few days were fueled entirely by anger. He knew, deep down, that the anger was caused by love, but he didn’t want to think about that. Because if Cas was right, if he was right about Dean then there really wasn’t any good reason why Dean had never said anything.

Nowadays though, Dean just felt numb. He drives around in Baby with the hopes of bringing something back into his life, but nothing helps.

He almost missed it, he was so lost in thought, and he barely caught the tail end of Jenna asking the stranger what she could “-get for you, dear?”

“I’ll have a slice of cherry pie,” came the low and gravelly voice, and Dean’s heart stopped, “and a slice of apple pie for my friend here,” Castiel finished.

Dean could barely hear Jenna’s acknowledgement and departure over the sudden ringing in his ears and the unavoidable bloom of hope in his chest.

He wants to look over, he does. He wants to see for himself if it really is Cas. Or if he's finally going crazy. But he can't move. He's frozen in his spot.

And then Cas’ hand comes to rest on Dean’s shoulder, right where his handprint had been, both as a scar that was no longer there, and as a bloody stain on a jacket Dean kept in the trunk of the impala for safekeeping. That movement, that touch, it was undeniably Castiel, and it forced Dean into action.

He turns his head, and looks his best friend in the eyes for the first time in what feels like forever.

And it's Castiel. Undoubtedly. He has the same messy hair, the same stubble, the same beautiful blue eyes, same dirty trench coat, the same stubbornly crooked blue tie.

“Cas?” Dean croaks, voice wobbling, painfully close to cracking.

Castiel smiles softly and the sight of it brings endless relief to Dean. And when Cas responds with, “Yes. Hello, Dean.” The relief doubles until it floods over Dean so completely his hands begin to shake.

“Cas,” he starts, voice trembling almost as much as his hands. “I- you- how-?”

“Oh look, our pie,” Cas says, cutting Dean off as their slices of pie are placed down in front of them.

“Cas, listen-” Dean begins quietly.

“Dean,” Cas interrupts. “We’ll have plenty of time to talk, I promise. Just eat your pie.”

And maybe, some other time, Dean would’ve been worried, would’ve been suspicious over Cas’ clear redirection. But he isn't. Because Castiel’s eyes are earnest and honest.

And Dean suddenly understands. Cas doesn't want to talk about it yet. He doesn't know how Dean is going to respond. He wants to have this first, just a quiet, peaceful moment.

So Dean nods, and begins to eat his pie.

It is really good pie, especially a regular apple pie, and it's probably the best apple pie he’d had in years. Mentally, Dean decides to give Jenna a large tip.

He’s halfway through eating his pie when he can’t do it anymore. Not with the way he could feel Cas watching him contentedly, fondly.

“Cas, listen, I-”

“It’s alright, Dean,” Cas says, cutting him off again, but Dean can’t be mad at it. He just needs to keep going.

“No,” he says sternly, looking stubbornly down at his half-eaten slice of pie. “No, it’s not Cas. It’s not alright, and I need to say this.”

He looks back up at Cas and waits for his response. When Cas nods in understanding, Dean takes a deep breath. He closes his eyes to steady himself briefly before opening them back up and looking Cas in the eyes. “Cas, I love you,” Dean says quietly. “You gotta know I love you too.”

Cas’ eyes widen slightly before his expression softens to something so fond it would probably make Dean uncomfortable had it been coming from anyone else. “I know,” he says with a smile that’s almost a grin.

“You kno-?” Then Dean gets it. “Oh you little shit,” he laughs. “You did not know, you don’t get to Han Solo me, you asshat,” Dean says with a wide grin.

Cas chuckles and the sound warms Dean up from the inside out. “My apologies, Dean. It seemed fitting and I figured you’d appreciate it.” Cas ducks his head slightly, avoiding eye contact, though he’s still smiling.

“Hey,” Dean says, and he reaches out and grabs Cas’ hand. “There’s no need to apologize, man.” Dean’s grinning too, and, distantly, he figures he should probably make an effort to stop calling Cas “man” and “buddy”, considering the fact that he’s in love with the stupid angel.

Cas’ smile widens and he looks back up, meeting Dean’s gaze as he turns his hand over and laces their fingers together almost hesitantly.

The flood of warmth the action brings Dean, as well as the hesitation in Cas’ eyes, brings Dean to squeeze their hands automatically, reassuringly.

All the hesitance in Cas’ expression melts away, and he practically beams at Dean. “You should finish your pie, Dean,” he suggests softly.

“So should you,” Dean points out.

Cas chuckles again and shakes his head. “It only tastes like molecules to me. I’ll get a to-go box for it and you can finish it for me later,” he says, and the ‘later’ in that sentence fills Dean with joy.

They aren’t over. There’s going to be a “later” for the two of them.

He grins at Cas and squeezes his hand before turning back to his delicious pie.

It’s after he finishes it that he gets an idea, and he grins. “Hey Cas, you wanna taste it? It’s pretty good.”

Castiel frowns and does his confused little head tilt that Dean has always secretly found unbearably cute. He realizes, suddenly, that he doesn’t have to keep that a secret anymore, and the thought makes him smile.

“Dean, I don’t understand,” Cas says slowly, “there isn’t any pie le-” and then the look on Dean’s face must sink in, because he cuts off with a slowly growing and a little shy smile. “...yes,” he says finally. “I would like a taste.”

“Good,” Dean says, and then he reaches over with both hands, wrapping one around Cas’ arm and cupping the back of his neck with the other as he pulls his angel into a kiss.

Castiel melts into it, and Dean feels a little like he’s glowing from the inside out, he’s so happy.

When they pull away, Dean is still grinning. “Well?” he says. “Did you like the taste?”

Cas is wearing a matching grin. “Hmmm,” he says with mock thoughtfulness. “I’m not sure, I think we should do it again, so I can have another taste.”

God, Dean is in love.

They meet again in the middle for another kiss.

Dean’s face almost hurts from smiling so much after such a long time of not smiling at all. And he knows, as they hold each other close in the pie diner, that they have the rest of their lives to spend together.

And Dean is happy.

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@dreamnovak @tearsofgrace @bluebell-24 @rambleoncas

#coda #spn fanfic #destiel fanfic #destiel ficlet #destiel coda #spn 15.19 #spn 15x19 #spn spoilers #supernatural fanfic #deancas #deancas fic #destiel fic #destiel #my writing #catch me being a musical theater nerd #and adding Jenna from waitress to the story