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#removing an ounce of context and god I wish that was me
anyataylorjoys · 1 month
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THE DREAMERS (2003) dir. Bernardo Bertolucci
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221bshrlocked · 3 years
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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?
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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.
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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.” 
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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
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fellulahh · 4 years
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Diavolo crashes MC’s wedding (extra long milestone piece!)
Just a quick note: I could not for the LIFE OF ME work out how to do an ‘under the cut’ on this piece so I apologise if this takes up 99% of your dash!
I haven’t given a name for the fiancé so don’t be alarmed when he’s constantly referred to as this
I hope you like it! Let me know what you think! This piece is very soft just to warn you
-
As Diavolo stood outside the door to MC’s home, he let out a deep, shaky breath. He couldn’t believe he was there. It felt like he’d been standing on her doorstep for hours as he debated whether he should knock or not. It’d taken him weeks before he even decided to go to the human realm but now that he was there he began to regret his decision.
Did he really think it was a good idea going to see MC when she’s due to marry another? It’d only hurt him more to see her with anyone that wasn’t him.
All he could think of was the day that MC left.
Having said her goodbyes to all of the brothers, MC walked up to the Prince. Her lip began to tremble as she avoided his gaze and grinned awkwardly. His would be the hardest goodbye.
“MC.” Diavolo smiled sadly, “I must say I never expected to feel this affected by your departure. It’d seem I’ve grown fond of you...” he spoke quietly to ensure none of the other brothers could interrupt their moment.
Stepping up to him, MC wrapped her arms around his body, pulling him in for a tight hug. “Thank you for letting me experience this.” She breathed, “If it weren’t for you I wouldn’t even know this realm exists.”
“There’s no need to thank me.” He shook his head as he held her close to his chest. “Now you must go - your fiancé will be waiting for you.”
MC’s face contorted at the mention. In her last week in Devildom she decided to tell the brothers the truth about her life back at home. For all the time she’d spent with them, she was actually engaged despite her blossoming relationships with the brothers. However, it wasn’t your usual engagement. Sipping a glass of wine, MC expressed how unhappy she was in the relationship and how she wished she could stay in Devildom forever.
The brothers were all hurt by the revelation at first, but after seeing MC express her anxieties on having to marry such a toxic man, they began to see why she never told them. If she never mentioned or thought about him, perhaps it’d be like he never existed.
Diavolo eventually caught wind of MC’s fiancé through Lucifer but never learned her fears of marrying him. He never expected his heart to sink at the news; Diavolo had never even realised that perhaps he saw MC as more than a friend. Nevertheless, he wouldn’t allow his discovered feelings to change anything. MC was spoken for - he wouldn’t do anything to interfere with that.
As MC’s mind wandered back to the night she confessed to everyone about her secret engagement, she pulled out of the hug with Diavolo. “You’re right.” She breathed shakily. “I assume it will be like I never left?”
“You’ll find yourself exactly where you were when you were first summoned here.” Diavolo smiled as he caressed her cheek.
The brothers stared at him bewildered, why was he touching her in such a way?
Quickly removing his hand after realising he was lingering, he composed himself. “I’ll miss you, MC.” He nodded sincerely.
MC didn’t say anything at first. She wasn’t ready to go back to the human realm without admitting her true feelings. She never wanted to marry her fiancé previously because of the toxicity of their relationship, but now she didn’t want to marry him because she loved another. She’d fallen in love with Diavolo.
Knowing that she’d regret it if her feelings were left unspoken, MC brought her lips closed to the Prince’s ear as she whispered to him.
“I love you, Diavolo.”
Stepping back from him, she walked over to Solomon who had been waiting patiently for her before the Prince could react. Diavolo was left speechless as her words repeated in his mind. MC had promised herself to another but she’d fallen in love with him. Lucifer and the brothers eyed him suspiciously as they all wondered what on Earth she said to him.
Suddenly the Prince’s happy expression fell. MC had felt the same way about him after all this time and now she was leaving. She didn’t even give him the chance to confess his love for her too. And now she was returning to the human realm to marry another. Diavolo had lost his chance to tell her how he felt.
“You ready?” Solomon smiled as MC approached him.
“About as ready as I’ll ever be.” She sighed, as she gave him one last hug.
In her final seconds, she gave a warm smile to all of the brothers as a silent tear slipped down her cheek. And then her eyes fell on Diavolo whose lips were still parted.
“Thank you.” She repeated to him quietly before vanishing into thin air.
Diavolo’s eyes remained glued to the place on the floor where she was just stood. She was gone.
Finding every last ounce of courage, Diavolo finally lifted up his arm, knocking gently on the door. His chest rose up and down as he waited for MC to answer.
Stepping back onto the path, his heart began to race as he saw a silhouette behind the blinds approach the front door. A small smile tugged at his lips as he watched the door handle turn. But then his expression soon fell as a man was revealed.
MC’s fiancé.
“Yes?” He asked rather rudely.
Taken aback by her fiancé’s bluntness, Diavolo quickly shook his head. “Good Morning, I didn’t mean to disturb you. I was wondering if MC was in?”
“She knows you?” The fiancé asked curiously as he leant against the door frame, narrowing his eyes.
“Yes she does.” Diavolo nodded.
“Well I’ve never seen you before.” He scowled as he eyed up the colossal stranger in front of him. “She’s not in though, sorry.”
And with that, the fiancé shut the door leaving Diavolo in complete shock. What did MC see in the man so rude? Confused, and a little hurt, Diavolo began trudging back down the path defeated. Maybe it’s a good thing he didn’t get to see MC, what would he even say to her?
However, he stopped in his tracks after hearing her voice. Spinning around, he saw MC in the window with her fiancé seemingly shouting her. Diavolo couldn’t work out what they were saying but he could tell MC was upset and on the verge of tears. Not wanting to be spotted, he quickly paced down the path and turned at the bottom until he was out of sight.
Pulling out his D.D.D, he didn’t even think as he called Lucifer. Being the trusty right hand man he is, the eldest brother picked up straight away.
“My Lord?” His cool tone spoke down the line.
“Lucifer, I need you to tell me everything you know about MC’s fiancé.” Diavolo demanded. The question caught Lucifer completely off guard. Why was Diavolo calling him about MC weeks after she’d left and why was he asking about her love life?
“Her fiancé?” Lucifer questioned, baffled by the lack of context to their conversation.
“There’s no time to explain, Lucifer. MC could be in trouble - I am aware she told you everything about her engagement so I know she will have mentioned what her fiancé is like.”
Hesitating at first, Lucifer told the truth. “She hates him, My Lord. She expressed that their relationship was incredibly toxic and that she felt trapped with him.”
“Why did you not ever tell me this?” Diavolo asked frustrated, surprising Lucifer.
“I apologise My Lord, I hadn’t realised I should have...” the eldest brother spoke, “is she okay? How have you learnt that she may be in danger?” He asked quickly, beginning to worry about the human he hadn’t hear from since her departure.
“Worry not, Lucifer.” Diavolo breathed, “this is a matter that I shall deal with. I’ll be away from Devildom for the next week. I trust I can leave you in charge.”
“My Lord i—“
Diavolo hung up the D.D.D. There was no time for questions - he had to devise a plan quickly to save MC from her relationship. He silently cursed to himself as he realised the date. The wedding was tomorrow! How was he supposed to have a moment with MC alone away from her fiancé? He was furious at himself for waiting so long to take the initiative. Now it could be too late.
There’s no way he’d ever allow her to marry him, especially now that he knew she wasn’t happy. The only words that repeated in his mind were one of the last she whispered to him.
‘I love you, Diavolo.’
“Why didn’t you tell me, MC?” He asked himself with a long sigh, “I never would have let you go.”
He knew deep down that he’d have to act rash. He’d intended to come to the human realm to just talk to MC but given the circumstances, there was no time for that now. It was a make of break decision that he’d have to make. Should he pour his heart out to her?
Pulling out some human money as he began walking down the street, he realised that time was not in his favour. In mere hours she’d be married to the man who’d trap her forever. Diavolo would have to act fast if he were to save her. Breathing quickly, he couldn’t believe his intentions as his mind raced.
This demon was about to crash the wedding.
*the following day*
As MC stood in front of all of her friends and family in her white gown, she had to try and hold back her tears. Although her groom in front of her had a warm smile on his face, she knew that it was all an act. She let out a sigh as she felt all eyes on them in that moment as they stood in front of the alter.
She’d never felt so alone in all of her life. Everybody had been manipulated by the image of their relationship; nobody knew how trapped MC truly felt.
All her mind could think of was Devildom. The things she would do to throw away this life and return home to the House of Lamentation...
Letting out a shaky breath, she met the cold stare of her fiancé. He’d won.
As the organ playing came to an end, the priest stepped up to the two of them.
“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today in the presence of God to witness the joining together of MC and (fiancé) in the holy covenant of marriage.”
Every word felt like venom to MC. To everybody else it was the start of an everlasting bond but to her it was a life sentence.
“(Fiancé), do you take this woman to be your wife, to live together in holy matrimony, to love her, to honour her, to comfort her, and to keep her in sickness and in health, forsaking all others, for as long as you both shall live?” The priest continued.
“I do.” He answered, glaring at MC’s concerned face.
She could feel her heart begin to race as the priest turned to face her.
“And MC, do you take this man to be your husband, to live together in holy matrimony, to love him, to honour him, to comfort him, and to keep him in sickness and in health, forsaking all others, for as long as you both shall live?”
MC froze on the spot. Her watery eyes slowly trailed across the expressions of the expectant guests as she gulped. Her fiancé tightened his grip on her hands as she hesitated, causing her to return her focus to him. His cold stare burned into her skull as her body trembled.
“I d—“
“STOP” a voice boomed as the doors to the church burst open.
There was a chorus of gasps from everybody in the room as they all turned their focus to the stranger that had just forced his way into the building.
MC’s eyes widened completely and her heart flipped as she saw Diavolo rush into the room. Was she hallucinating?
“Diavolo?” She breathed with a sheepish grin as she let go of her fiancés hands.
“You know him?!” Her fiancé spat in disgust at her, “I knew it, I knew you were hiding something from me.”
There were mixed whispers amongst the guests. Some were of shock at the fiancés outburst, some were of disgust as they assumed MC had cheated.
As the demon marched down the aisle, he ignored the burning of his skin as he made his way further into the church. Seeing that MC’s eyes were still fixated on the man who was at their house only yesterday, her fiancé turned his glare to Diavolo. “What is the meaning of this?!” He asked angrily. “What gives you the impression you can show up at my house asking to see my fiancé and then interrupt my wedding?!”
“I’m stopping MC from making the biggest mistake of her life.” Diavolo breathed heavily through gritted teeth as the sensation of being in a place of holiness caused his body to scold. He had to force himself to not let his true demon form show.
Everybody was speechless. Neither the guests nor the priest knew how to react. Sensing huge conflict between the Prince and her fiancé, MC quickly stepped away from the alter. “Excuse me for a moment.” She spoke only just audible enough for most people to hear.
“Where are you going?!” Her fiancé roared from behind as she walked away.
She quickly grabbed Diavolo by his arm as she led him out of the church, leaving her fiancé seething. Exiting the church, she shut the door behind her as she took the Prince away from the grounds.
“Diavolo what are you doing here? Are you hurt?” She asked worried, noticing how much agony he was in. Her small hands found his body as she gazed up at him with concerned eyes.
As soon as he felt her stare, his body relaxed. He seemed to forget about all the pain as he felt her touch again.
“You can’t marry him..” he breathed, “please MC, don’t marry him.”
MC was in complete shock as her chest heaved. She hadn’t heard from any of the brothers let alone Diavolo since she left their realm. The last thing she said to him was that she loved him and that’s how it was left. She felt incredibly faint after the sudden event that had just happened and her tight wedding gown didn’t help. “Why?” She asked quietly.
“Why do you even need to ask?” He asked desperately, “That man in there is awful - you can’t allow yourself to be with someone like him. You’re a prisoner to him, he doesn’t love you!” He panted, “I love you.”
“You came back for me?” MC asked with teary eyes, unable to believe his confession, “how did you find me?”
“I came to see you yesterday.” Diavolo admitted, “But he wouldn’t even allow me to leave a message for you - he practically turned me away as soon as he saw me. And then I heard the way he shouted at you as I left.”
As the Prince spoke, MC had a serious expression on her face as she remember her fiancé accusing her of seeing other men behind his back.
“That was you?” She asked softly.
“It was.” Diavolo nodded, “After that I knew I couldn’t leave you with him, I called Lucifer and demanded he tell me everything he knew about your relationship. That’s when I found out the truth. Why didn’t you tell me, MC?” He asked upset as he held her hand, “why didn’t you tell me I was sending you back to such a monster?”
“I already loved you, Diavolo. I didn’t want to make our goodbye any harder.” MC sighed.
“You should have told me, MC. If it weren’t for Barbatos I may not have made it in time today...” he confessed, “I was afraid I was too late when I arrived.”
MC silently thanked Barbatos. Any second later and she would have made her vow to her fiancé.
“You’re not too late...” she breathed as her glassy eyes watched over his troubled expression.
“I hoped I wouldn’t be.” Diavolo shook his head, “I already made the mistake of not telling you I love you when you confessed to me on your last day. I’d never forgive myself if I made the wrong decision today.”
As MC glanced over her shoulder at the church that held her wedding, her face saddened. “What do I do?” She asked quietly.
“Come home.” Diavolo insisted, “come back with me.”
“But Diavolo the program is over.” MC sighed.
“I don’t care - that’s irrelevant now.” He smiled tranquilly. “I’ve grown too fond of you to allow you stay here in a life you don’t enjoy. Even if you don’t come back for me, come back for the brothers.”
Sensing that Diavolo was worried that she’d lost her love for him, MC placed her hand on his cheek. “You realise there hasn’t been a day that has passed where I haven’t thought of you?” She asked with a small smile. “I loved you the day that I left, and I still love you now.”
Diavolo licked his lips as he listened to her every word. This one human had made his heart so vulnerable; there wasn’t anything that he wouldn’t do for her. He’d give up his title for her along as it meant she’d return with him.
Glancing at the church one more time, MC smiled as she pulled off her veil from her head. “You have no idea the relief I felt when you came crashing through those doors.” She grinned as she dropped the veil to the floor. “Who would have thought a demon would save me from my marriage?”
“Does that mean you’ll come?” Diavolo beamed with a small blush. “I want you to be with me, MC.”
“Of course I’ll come home.” MC breathed, engulfing him in a hug.
Diavolo’s heart had never beaten so fast in all of his existence. He felt an unfamiliar sensation in his stomach as butterflies erupted. As they pulled out of their hug, MC’s eyes flickered to his lips before she quickly pulled him in for a passionate kiss. He held her body tight in his arms as he felt a sense of euphoria.
Finally he’d made the right decision. Finally MC was his.
“Thank you for coming back for me.”
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kaediisarchive · 4 years
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R A N D O M   H E A D C A N O N S   [1/?] Cut for length!
Skarlet could reach Elder God level power, but it would require giving herself completely to the Blood Code, essentially turning her into little more than a vessel for it. By the time MK11 comes around, she’s grown strong enough that she could maybe control the full power of it for a short period of time, but she knows better than to keep pushing her luck when it comes to letting such a dangerous, mind-controlling entity consciously inhabit her mind. (As for MK9 Skarlet, she would have no chance of harnessing that power without being overcome by the Blood Code. She can get close, but she doesn’t really reach the point of being able to handle it properly until MK11 when she’s grown much more resistant to the temptation.)
I never anticipated digging into Skarlet’s opinions on glitter but here I am. Copious amounts of glitter are the bane of her existence, apparently. Seeing clothing coated completely in glitter makes her skin itch just looking at it. She doesn’t mind a splash of elegant sparkles or some well-places rhinestones but thinking about her body covered in fairy glitter makes her shudder. She’d rather fucking die thank you. No seriously, we joke about throwing holy water at the blood mage but just throw a bucket of glitter at her she’ll flee instantly. She also hates tiny loose particles in general because of the mess but glitter in particular is Big Yikes for her. 
Skarlet is incredibly touch starved. Throughout all of her life, she’s received only ounces of genuine physical affection, so even the simplest of gestures can carry a great weight with her.
Skarlet indulges way too much in luxury when it is accessible to her. She grew up fighting to survive, so if she has the opportunity to feel like a HighSocietyBitch™ for an hour, she’ll leap at the chance. She spends an obnoxious amount of money on products for her skin and hair so she can pamper herself, mostly, and don’t ever take her to a spa or anywhere high class and offer to pay because she might accidentally drain your bank account faster than she could drain your blood.
Skarlet is the only living conduit for the Blood Code in existence. She was the first, and any attempts to create another like her have failed; moreso, the knowledge of how she was created died with Shao Kahn, as the ritual was something of his own creation and was not a genuine practice in blood magic. Even Skarlet herself does not know how to replicate the ritual.
Shang Tsung’s guidance was the most valuable to Skarlet during her imperial days, outside of Shao Kahn’s, of course. Even though he was subtly manipulating her at the emperor’s behest, a lot of the guidance he gave her was solid and she still holds much of it to heart despite her opinion of Shang Tsung having changed once she realized the true nature of her purpose in Shao Kahn’s court.
Skarlet is a master at stealth. Stealth was survival for her during her youth, whether it was to steal food or hide from the guards that pursued her. She learned to apply stealth into kombat while serving under Shao Kahn, and her skills impressed him to the point that he used her as an infiltrator more than a bodyguard. She was his best spy, so well-concealed that her existence was not even general knowledge to those outside of the Kahn’s inner circle. Blood Magic has made it even easier for her to fade into the shadows, as she can use the Blood Code’s inter-dimensional capabilities to remove herself from an occupying space in the literal sense of the phrase (basically the same application of teleportation without an immediate reappearance).
Skarlet is most talented with her twin Kodachi, a single dagger, or throwing kunai, but she has picked up a versatile range of weaponry skills. She’s an adaptable survivor above all else; she can find a way to use whatever she gets her hands on to her advantage. Her blood magic has furthered these capabilities and her ability to experiment with her skills, as being able to create any weapon she wished for out of blood takes away the requirement of accessibility. Scythes and whips have become a favorite of hers, and javelin spears are another type of weapon she finds particularly useful. Projectiles of any form are effective tools for her, as her marksmanship is pristine. She has a natural aptitude for visually measuring distance and other factors that could effect the path of her projectiles, and if she miscalculates, she could always use a little bit of blood magic to compensate for her mistake and correct the flight path.
Outside of using blood magic for medical purposes, she has a lot of practical knowledge and experience regarding medical treatments. She’s always been her own doctor, and if she hadn’t learned how to be the queen of first aid as fast as she did, she would probably be dead. Her medical skills have gotten more advanced over the years and have become yet another thing to complement her blood magic.
Thinking about Skarlet’s self-perception hurts me. Appearance-wise, she’s solid. She’s subjectively hot, and she knows it. She will actually tell you how gorgeous she thinks she is if you ask her. You’re never going to hear her call herself any variation of ugly in a physical context. She could honestly be considered conceited in this regard, and she wouldn’t deny any accusations of vanity. I can’t think of any appearance-related insults that could actually crack her. Her self-confidence in her looks is godlike. Her inward self-esteem, however, is almost nonexistent by the time MK11 happens. She accepts that her choices were for her survival and she will never apologize for trying to live, but the weight of everything she has done has crushed her value in herself as a person. Younger Skarlet would never confront herself with the true reality that she was a person that did horrible things for Shao Kahn because she deemed them a necessity, and in her mind, that was supposed to outweigh any guilt or blame that could be placed on her shoulders. She was wrong, of course, because it never completely sat right with her in the first place, and now current Skarlet has to deal with all of the repressed guilt that younger Skarlet kept trying to hide and excuse herself from. Hindsight has destroyed any positive self-perception related to who she is and the choices she makes.
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inkstaineddove · 4 years
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These Fleeting Moments
Ships: PruHun
Characters: Prussia, Hungary, Austria
Summary: After another decleration of his love, Gilbert questions why Erzsébet won't respond - positively or negatively - towards it. An examination of the revelation and Gilbert's mental state directly afterwards, putting in context his strange behavior as he left home for Berlin. A companion piece to chapter 3 of 'Business and Pleasure', but not required reading. 
1806, Vienna.
"God, you are a marvel."
Gilbert took a step back and admired the woman before him. His eyes traced down Erzsébet's body, taking special care to linger over her exposed breasts and lips. He knelt back down and kissed her, desire filling every ounce of his body. She tugged as his waistband, pulling him down deeper. They rolled and she was straddling him. Erzsébet smiled, running a cool hand down his chest and sending a shiver down his spine. "Make me feel like a woman."
Hunger, pure hunger. Hands roaming free, lips kissing and grabbing at any exposed skin they could find. What few clothes remained dropped to the floor. She wrapped her legs around him and in slid one, two, three fingers. The other teasing her nipples, pinching at them just enough to blur the line between pleasure and pain. Kissing her neck, Erzsébet's breathing was hot and heavy against his cheek.
"Ah, c'mon you know what I really want," she pleaded, her voice barely a whimper. Smirking, he placed her vertically on the bed and began crawling over to her. Resplendent bliss, how soon they would find it. A noise from just outside the room reverberated. Erzsébet leaned up. "What was that?" There was an edge of frustration on her voice due to such a rude interruption.
The Prussian bent down and gave her a kiss, one more tender than she expected. "Nothing, but I'll check if the door's locked." The bed groaned as his weight was removed. He licked the residue of her off his fingers. A glint of violet in the dark. Of course he would want to check out the action. Gilbert winked at Roderich as he locked the door. A thud against it and the ringing silence afterwards. Gilbert's hunger grew. "Are you still ready for me?" He didn't have to ask twice, the lust in Erzsébet's eyes all the answer he needed. No more interruptions for the rest of the night.
---
Erzsébet's head sat on Gilbert's chest while his fingers played with the ends of her hair. Never had they both been so satisfied. He wrapped a strand of hair around his fist and kissed it. "You realize you're the most perfect woman in the world, right? If Helena of Troy ever met you, she would be jealous."
The Hungarian rolled her eyes. He was always so affectionate afterwards. And before. Really, whenever the two of them were together. "I may have been told that a time or two. I have an admirer who always feels the need to remind me." She tilted her head up to look at him properly. "You wouldn't happen to know who he is, would you? I have to tell him that I'm afraid he may run out of metaphors soon."
Gilbert kissed her softly. "No idea, but if I ever find him, I'll let him know."
Peaceable silence passed between them. Neither of them could deny how wonderful this, all of it, felt. Nor did they really care about whatever toll it may incur for them to continue having these dalliances. It was worth it to have a little slice of time where they could imagine if things were different and pretend that they were meeting under darkness out of choice, not for practicality. Erzsébet lifted a hand up and rubbed Gilbert's cheek affectionately. He couldn't resist leaning into her touch.
He watched them through the mirror above the vanity. How comfortable, how familiar. He relished when they could spend time like this afterwards, once the lust had subsided and it was only them. His mind slipped to the fantasies it always did in these times - worlds where they were humans and allowed to fall in love with no repercussions; worlds where he had married her instead, their households in Budapest and Berlin filled with joy and love that never waned. His heart tugged and he pulled her closer to him, never wanting to let go. "I love you, Erzsi." Whenever he spoke those words, he couldn't stop the awe from seeping into his voice. How could it not when she provoked such certainties within him?
"I know," her voice a whisper. She gazed at them in the mirror and her heart throbbed. She felt the same happiness as him, but feared what power those words may hold. If they were acknowledged, what would that mean for them? How would that change her situation? They could love and love deeply, but the next day she would always wake up in Vienna. Violet eyes would be the first she'd see, not red, so what could love give her? What could love do but bring more pain?
Gilbert frowned. "If you don't feel the same way, you can tell me. I'm capable of handling my emotions."
She bit her lip. Since 1786, his first confession, she'd tried so hard to avoid this conversation. "You know that's not the case." Not tonight, please not tonight. The two of them had spent three lovely nights together. Erzsébet was unwilling to end the week on a bad note.
"Then what's the case?" All he wanted was understanding. Then maybe it wouldn't feel like he was enamored with a statue.
"It's complicated, Gil."
Gilbert let out a deep breath through his nose, trying to ease his frustration. "This has been complicated, we are complicated!" He kissed her forehead. "I can handle complicated. All I want to know is where we stand, even if it can't be neatly placed."
"It can't be a matter of who I do or don't love. You're free to do whatever you want, be with whoever you please, and feel however you're inclined." She waved a hand around in front of them. "This is my situation. The lives of my people and I are limited by whatever they-" she pointed out the door, indicating Austria and his government, "-are content to allow me to do. Who cares if I love you? What happy ending will it get us? In a position like this, I can only feel safe in loving myself and even that is difficult at times." Erzsébet sighed. "Anything I find joy in is stripped away from me. My freedom, my ability to decide for myself what I would do no matter what I was told was befitting a woman, was deeply prized to me. I missed it when Sadiq took it, I miss it while Roderich holds it. I'm afraid to let my heart decide for herself what she wants. Who's to say the next up-start empire won't steal that from me?"
Subconsciously, Gilbert held her tighter. He didn't know what else to do. What was there for him to do? He could empathize before he became - well, Prussia, when he was still being tugged around by the power politics of the Holy Roman Empire, kicked around from power-to-power to do their bidding. Still, it never felt as personal as this. He had always been allowed to choose for himself, even if he was strongly advised on the consequences. He had never been ruled over so tightly.
"Why confess anything when it won't help you?" She was whispering now. "If I love you, will I wake up tomorrow in Berlin or Budapest, seen as an equal to all? Will it not bring about more pain and suffering for me or my people?" She shook her head. "My heart originally led me to this bed, believing pretty promises with no follow through. My heart is a fool, I cannot afford to listen to her again. Until I, as Hungary, can stand alone and have that be recognized by others than my heart belongs to me."
Somberness fell over the room. They sat, still, Erzsébet realizing the size of her confession and Gilbert lacking the words to adequately respond. "I-" Gilbert stuttered. He wanted to say the right thing, be the right person to help her.
"Whatever you're going to say, don't." There was no malice in her words, only acceptance. "None of this is your fault. It's how things are for now. I'll make it through. I've always had a knack for surviving." She wanted to promise what would come after, when surviving turned to living. She could feel it on her lips, but feared if she spoke it then it would be destroyed by her want.
Gilbert began to rise from the bed. "Maybe it would be better if I slept in my room." He started to retrieve his clothes.
"Don't." Her desperation surprised them both. She reached out to him. "My heart belongs to me, but that doesn't mean I can't hear it. Stay here, please. We haven't fallen asleep together in years."
Such a simple request. How could he deny it? He climbed back in, kissing her so sweetly as devotion filled his being. "Anything for you." It was more wish than promise.
---
The morning passed by in a leisurely way. Waking up besides Erzsébet, not minding the taste of her morning breath through sleepy kisses, watching her bustling around to prepare herself for the day ahead? What a dream. That morning he would've died to take Roderich's place.
Eventually it was time to leave. Well-rested, he began loading up his carriage and prattling on about nothing with his driver. Prussia always enjoyed talking with the common people. It was refreshing, their candor towards the state of their nations and grumblings about the price of things. The one constant through the centuries.
It was in this good mood that Austria caught him. "Excuse me, Gilbert, may I have a moment?" He nodded his head at the driver. "Alone."
Gilbert dismissed the man and, despite the fury in Roderich's eyes, couldn't stop himself from grinning ear-to-ear. "Thank you for being such a gracious host. I might have had the best sleep of my life last night. Your mattress is fantastic."
A blitz of pain. Gilbert clutched his cheek, processing the sound of the smack that rang through the air. All good-humor fell away, outrage quickly replacing it. "You little bitch. I bet you slap her around like that."
"Violence is the only thing you respond to. If I want to be understood by a beast, I have to speak like one. Your stupidity makes you brave, I can commend that at times. It also makes you reckless and insolent. If I catch you disrespecting me in such a way as last night, I will ruin you."
Gilbert huffed. "To be afraid of you would be like being afraid of a kitten, don't waste my time." He returned his attention back to his luggage. "You're not mad about anything I may or may not be doing with Erzsi. Stop pretending like she has any meaning to you. You resent what refuses to bend to your will like any other obstinate little prince." He turned back around, eyes like fire and full of glowing hatred. "You may own her hand, but you can never own her heart."
"Neither will you."
Gilbert winced. The memory of their conversation ran through his mind in living color. The defeat and longing in her eyes. It all felt so real, so raw. He stared at Roderich and desperately wanted to hate him in that moment, to make him understand what he was doing. All of that fell away upon looking at him. What was he, what were they all, beyond puppets of their monarch's designs? Roderich no more decided to the fate of Hungary just as he didn't decide to invade Silesia. Sure, they could give their opinions on matters, but at the end of the day it always went to the real players. They were merely the vessel. He couldn't bring himself to hate his fellow shell. Not right now.
He looked down and sighed. That didn't mean none of this hurt. "So I've heard." He looked back at the house, longing filling his soul. He could imagine him playing a knight and whisking Erzsébet away, laughing while they left Roderich in the dust. He could never have that, but he could have last night and all the little moments like that they'd collected all these years. In the end, wouldn't all those memories add up to a life for the two of them? Maybe one where they could fall asleep at night and not have to live fearing tomorrow. "But what I've got is more than you. That's the only prize that matters, right? What would we be without chasing such an elusive goal?"
"Happier," Austria spoke, as if reading Prussia's mind. They shared their surprise, faint smiles passed between the two.
"Maybe. We might have to try that someday. But for now, why not keep doing what we're doing? We've forgotten how to do everything else." He opened his mouth, a taunt on his lips, wanting to leave on their usual terms. Gilbert's heart was too heavy to fake bravado, to pretend that everything would be alright if he only he defeated Austria today. He looked up at the clouds, praying silently for assistance he didn't believe in, before meeting Roderich's gaze. "This is a meaningless existence. Tell her I'll miss her." Gilbert climbed into his carriage, feeling as if he'd left an important part of him in Vienna.
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wendynerdwrites · 7 years
Text
Punch
I wrote a take on the crypt scene from the trailer.
Jon:
Baelish should not be here. He doesn’t belong here. He doesn’t deserve to stand at the crypt of Ned Stark. He betrayed Ned Stark.
Just seeing that worm down here makes Jon’s skin crawl. Granted, that’s how he reacts to seeing Littlefinger in any context. But it’s especially bad down here.
Baelish’s presence doesn’t even make sense. The man is almost always either hovering around Sansa, or trying to. Even when doors get slammed in his face, he’ll wait by those doors, ready to pounce the moment she emerges from the council chamber. Ghost even started sleeping right outside her bedchambers to keep the man away.
Seeing him here, though, it’s especially odd. And not just because Sansa isn’t here. It’s past midnight, everyone should be asleep.
Jon was unable to sleep for a number of reasons. His whole world has shattered and turned itself upside down over the past year. And the revelation Bran arrived with certainly hasn’t helped. In addition to his identity crisis, it’s subconsciously made him a bit more receptive to… well, thoughts he shouldn’t have. Especially at night.
The King figured no one would be down here now. That it was safe to visit his mother’s crypt.
He and Sansa decided to keep it secret for now, not wishing to ignite anymore chaos within their already-fragile government. Or, rather, Sansa decided. Jon jumped at the chance to abdicate in her favor. He’s never felt comfortable with his title.
But they especially didn’t want Littlefinger to know. If Baelish found out that Eddard Stark’s eldest son, the King in the North, wasn’t really Eddard Stark’s son… That he was in fact a potential rival to that dragon queen currently setting half the south ablaze…
As she pointed out, it’s better keeping things quiet.
Still, Jon likes visiting Lyanna’s grave when he’s restless. It helps at least add some context to his new identity.
Littlefinger shouldn’t be here.
Jon supposes it’s better than having the man hovering outside Sansa’s bedroom window, but he still has no place in these crypts.
Baelish hovers around Robb’s crypt instead, studying it by the light of his lantern. With his black cloak and white fur collar, raised arm, and pale face, to Jon he looks like a vulture. Fitting.
The King in the North loathes to be alone with this man. He always feels on the verge of snapping and throttling that vile son of a snake. Especially when he sees that condescending smirk.
Jon knows better. He can’t trust himself alone with this man, not here, with no sleep. But before he can flee, the vulture looks up and spots him.
He straightens up, turns theatrically, and smirks. “Your Grace! I suppose sleep eludes you as well?”
No, I’m asleep right now, actually. This is how I do it, the king thinks impatiently.
“Aye,” Jon says, reluctantly walking over to Robb’s crypt. He wants to know what Baelish was looking for. He stands next to the man silently, arms folded in front of him. He examines Robb’s newly-finished resting place. The masons did good work.
There’s silence for a while. Until...
“You see me as a threat, don’t you, Your Grace?”
Jon glances sideways at Baelish. “I see you as lots of things, Lord Baelish.” Sometimes I see you in my dreams, your cries for mercy dying away as I crush your neck beneath my boot. “You’re a powerful man, and you didn’t become powerful by accident.”
“Good. You’re a smart man. But you must believe me, I only want what’s best for Sansa.”
“I believe you want Sansa,” Jon replies before he can stop himself, “As a smart man, I know the difference. And I also believe that your desire for her is not what’s best for her.”
Baelish doesn’t know that Sansa’s told Jon about him selling her to the Boltons. He doesn’t know that he’s a dead man walking. That the only reason he still breathes is because Sansa wants to milk him dry of all of his contacts, gold, and secrets before she has him executed. He doesn’t know she’s only pretending to trust him again out of resentment towards the half-brother who was crowned over her. He doesn’t know that she’s faking her apparent receptiveness to his attentions. He doesn’t know that she spends at least a quarter hour every evening detailing how revolting she finds him to Jon. Baelish thinks he’s playing the Starks. He doesn’t know they’re playing him. He’s a man who thinks he knows everything. He knows nothing.
“Oh? The man who got her out of King’s Landing before that lunatic Cersei Lannister executed her for a murder she didn’t commit?”
Jon seethes. You’re the one who framed her! But he’s not supposed to know that.
“A man who immediately let her be kidnapped and tormented by a sadist?”
Baelish flinches. “It was a mistake. But I remind you, when you were both about to fall to that sadist again, I was the one who gathered the men you needed. The army that won you back your home.”
The same men you might have gathered before. The one you could have used to win her her home back without selling her to her raper! Jon is ready to scream.
“If the aid you gave us,” Jon says after several deep breaths, “Came under the condition that you have her, then you’re not the sort of man I trust her with. You are her uncle, I’d remind you. You are the Lord Protector of her cousin. The ward of her grandfather.”
“I made no such condition.”
“Are you making a proposal now?” Jon asks.
“No, that would be improper. I’m just… interested.”
“Yes, you’ve made that clear.”
Baelish snorts. “Not just in Sansa. But in you, how you see me. It’s clear you don’t like me. I can’t imagine why.”
This is a trap. Jon chooses his words carefully. “I don’t like the way you do business. Even in the North, we know what trade you deal in, my lord. I also don’t like how you got your current title. You served the Lannisters very well for years. And were richly rewarded for it. Once you got what you wanted, you betrayed them. Just because it served my interests doesn’t mean I can’t find it suspect.”
“I see. But why would I betray those who so rewarded me to serve the Starks if I didn’t truly care for her?”
“I don’t know. Maybe you do. But even if that’s so, that doesn’t mean you’re right for her. Besides, after what my sister endured, she doesn’t need that sort of attention.”
“She’ll receive it regardless,” Baelish points out, “You of all people know that.”
Jon’s heart begins to thud in his chest. There’s something in the man’s tone... He turns slightly and looks Baelish in the eyes.
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“Though I don’t have any siblings, I understand the instincts of a protective male relation, especially when it comes to suitors. I grew up watching the Blackfish with Catelyn and Lysa. I see hints of it in your little brother. He doesn’t like me, either.”
“We don’t like how you look at her.”
Baelish smirks. “I don’t like how you look at her, either.”
“Excuse me?!”
“Despite what you pretend to think, we both know that when it comes to Sansa, you have far more in common with me than you do with your brother. You don’t care a fig about my business. You don’t care about shifting loyalties. If you did, you wouldn’t be so friendly with the wildlings. The real reason you see me as a threat, Your Grace, is that as a brother, you’re less a Bran Stark and more a Jaime L-”
Jon has him against the wall. He clutches Baelish’s throat the way he’s dreamt of doing for nearly a year. Baelish struggles only a little, grasping Jon’s wrist. He still smirks.
“I observed Jaime Lannister as well,” he chokes out, “I was one of the first to see it! Not hard for a brothel-keeper to notice!”
The King in the North tightens his grip. He can’t stand another word.
The man is silenced, aside from a few choking sounds. His smirk finally drops. His face starts turning blue. And, at last, he looks truly afraid. Now it’s Jon turn to smirk.
“You know nothing, Petyr Baelish,” he hisses, “Better to stay silent and be thought a fool than to open your mouth and remove all doubt. So why don’t you shut up for once?”
“STOP!”
That voice…
It’s become an instinct with him, the way he responds to that voice. He knows it at once. It commands every ounce of his attention at the slightest syllable. And he cannot resist it.
He drops Baelish, who crumbles on the floor, sputtering and clutching his throat.
In a flash, Sansa’s crouching down on the ground beside him, helping Baelish to his feet. She glares at Jon, who stumbles back.
“What are you doing?” She cries, “You could have killed him!”
Jon swallows. Not ‘could have’. ‘Would have’. Would have killed him.
“You don’t understand, he-”
“-I don’t care!” Sansa snaps, “He’s my friend, Jon! And even if you don’t care about my feelings… Strangling a guest, a vassal, an ally under your own roof?! What are you, a Frey?!”
That hurts most of all. Jon is speechless as Sansa tries to soothe Baelish and escort him towards the exist. It’s only now that Jon notices Ghost. He shares a look with his direwolf, and the beast follows the two out.
Jon sinks to his knees when she gone, clutching his temple. Oh, gods. How much did she hear?
He recalls something his fa--Lord Stark-- once said, “Cutting out a man’s tongue does nothing. It merely tells the world that you afraid of what he has to say.”
What did strangling Baelish tell Sansa?
How will he face her again?
Even if she isn’t convinced now, the idea will be planted. And she’ll be looking for it. And, eventually, she will know for sure.
He was her brother.
~_~_~_~_~_~_~
Sansa:
“He’s a madman!” Littlefinger moans, still clutching his throat as she escorts him back to his chambers. He says much for a man who claims, “He’s broken my neck, I’m sure of it!”
“I’ll have a maester called,” she tells him, depositing him in his rooms. She turns away, as eager as ever to leave him. He reaches for her.
“Sansa… Stay with me, please.” His voice, like the rest of him, is pathetic.
“I will come right back once the maester has been fetched,” she lies, fleeing. Her heart pounds. She gives a quick instruction to an on-duty guard to get Maester Daemon, but then hurries off to Jon’s rooms. He’s not returned, so she rushes back down to the crypts.
She finds him on the floor, back against Lyanna’s tomb, head in his hands. Her heart sinks. Perhaps she’s become too skilled at masking her feelings for her own good.
“Jon.”
He looks up and scrambles to his feet. “My Lady!”
She stifles a giggle. When he’s at his most nervous, he addresses her by title or style. He doesn’t do that with anyone else, she realizes. Only her. Gods, how did she not realize it before?
Sansa walks toward him, gentle smile on her face. “So, what are we to do now?”
“I-I-I don’t know. Have I ruined everything for you?”
“Not everything,” she replies, “Littlefinger has lived out enough of his usefulness, I think. He’s officially become more trouble than he’s worth.”
Jon closes his eyes for a moment. “I’m glad to hear that, at least. But I’m still sorry.”
“Don’t be.” She pauses, take a deep breath, and makes her decision. “You love me. That’s nothing to apologize for. I’ve always wanted to be loved by a good man.”
Jon goes white. “Of course I love you,” he sputters, “You’re my--”
“--Don’t,” she stops him, moving up close and pressing her fingertip to his lips, “Don’t do that. Please don’t pretend anymore.”
Jon closes his eyes again. “Sansa, I didn’t mean for this to happen. I don’t want to be like the others.”
“Mission accomplished.” She smiles. “You’re not.”
She leans forward and presses her lips to his. He’s still for a short time, but then responds enthusiastically. When she pulls her mouth from his, she presses her forehead to his and sighs.
“So I ask again,” she whispers, stroking his cheek, “What are we going to do? You are still a Stark as far as the world knows, and we do not want to provoke the Dragon Queen. So how do you intend to manage this?”
Jon takes a few deep breaths. “I’m not sure. This sort of thing is usually more your specialty. Any suggestions?”
“I suppose we’ll just have to be discreet.” She smiles. “You’ve become a man of many secrets, Jon Stark. Who knew you could be so duplicitous?”
He grins. “I’m not sure. I’m not sure of anything except that I love you.”
Gods, that feels so good. It feels even better to reply, “I love you, too.”
They trade more kisses.
Petyr Baelish is arrested for treason the next day. Sansa revels in the shock on his face as she accuses him. Littlefinger’s trial goes a fortnight. All that time, she and Jon steal wicked kisses whenever they can steal away. They’re like naughty children.
But even he doesn’t know about the things she’s sent for, the materials she’s required. The herbs, shipped in from The Vale, that she hides in little silk bags she keeps in the locked drawer of her desk.
She watches in satisfaction as Longclaw sinks into Littlefinger’s neck, as the blood sprays, as Jon wipes his blade once the deed is done. Their eyes meet as the gallows are cleared. She feels so free.
She feigns a headache at dinner and retires early. She sneaks into Jon’s chambers and slips naked beneath his furs. When he finally enters, his jaw drops at the sight of her. His grey eyes seem to glow with lust in the candlelight as he steps to the side of the bed. She expects him to kiss her.
He does, in a fashion. He drops to his knees, reaches up, grabs her thigh, and pulls her roughly so her spread legs hang over the bed. And he kisses her other set of lips.
Sansa doesn’t know what she expected, but it isn’t this. Her toes curl, her eyes roll back, and she’s as much at his mercy as Baelish was.
She doesn’t mind, as she knows the feeling is mutual.
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