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thebigbiwolf · 8 months

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Spittle - Part 1/2

Summary: The chocolate seems innocent enough - if you look past the Infernal writing on the wrapper, and with so few pleasures in the wilderness, you all but jump at the chance to sneak yourself a small treat.

Unbeknownst to you, the bar is infused with succubus spittle. Just one square is rumored to contain enough potency to send a mortal into the throes of ecstasy.

This is what happens when you eat half the bar.

Fic Tags: Sex Pollen (kinda), aphrodisiacs, succubus magic, a bit of dom!Astarion, unprotected piv, overstimulation, he talks you through it (iykyk), more tags will be added later.

Fic Warnings: Explicit Smut (18+ MDNI), Dubcon (if you squint), Language, No use of Y/N, magical influence

Read on AO3: Here

A/N: Remember the dead spider? I remember the dead spider. Anyways, the reception I've been getting on Starvin', Darlin' has me wanting to thank everyone with a one-shot. This got away from me so I went ahead and split it into two parts.

I've never written anything like this and it was significantly more difficult than a multi-chapter fic. I hope everything comes across the way its supposed to! And a huge thank you to my beta @imaginarydromedary for...you know... encouraging me to post this, despite everything.

From what you could tell, there wasn’t much to the apothecary.

As you push open the dilapidated doors, your first thought is to search for supplies - anything that could help if things went south on your way to the goblin camp.

Dried herbs hang from the rafters beneath a thin veil of cobwebs, filling your lungs with a pungent clash of scents. Empty bottles lined the shelves along the wall, caked in several months worth of dust. Large chunks of the building were missing where stone met splintered wood, some areas almost entirely overtaken by greenery.

You step over broken shards of pottery, scanning over the floor and countertops for something - anything that may be of use, but to your disappointment, it seems like the shop was entirely ransacked long before your arrival.

You sigh deeply, knowing you’ll likely never hear the end of this from your companions. It was your idea to search the village. You were the one who suggested taking out the goblin scouts, exerting everyones’ energy, and now you’re afraid you’ll have very little to show for it.

You catch a glint of gold, an object reflecting the sun's rays beneath a pile of rubble. You kneel down to brush away the surrounding debris, thankful for even the smallest promise of coin before your hands catch on… some sort of serrated edge?

You pull at it, and it easily comes loose. It's a thin, rectangular block, just barely larger than the length of your hand. You wipe away some of the dirt with your sleeve, revealing an intricately designed foil wrapping underneath.

As you speculate what this might be, you hear footsteps approaching from behind, light and familiar. You turn to face the elf with a smirk.

“You’re supposed to be the stealthy one.” You chide at him, playfully, “Or has my blood put a little skip in your step?”

Astarion scoffs. “I’ve been here the entire time, watching you fumble around in the dirt.”

Crimson eyes study you, then the object you’re holding. He places his hands on his hips, head cocked to the side with a raised brow. “Is that what you’ve dragged us all the way here for?”

“First of all,” you waggle a finger at him, “You’re especially grumpy when you’re tired. I’ll have to make a note to prioritize your beauty rest. Second, I haven’t finished looking around, but check this out.”

You hand the bar to him as you stand. The cool skin of his fingers brush against your own, and you’re irritated with the way your heart skips at the brief contact. Why did the one man you found attractive in your camp have to be such a primadonna? And such a huge pain in the ass?

Astarion’s eyes scan over the textured paper with suspicion, angling it towards the light to get a better look. The golden wrapping is stamped with an image of red lips On the back, letters twist and curve in a language you don't recognize, following a single circular pattern where they meet in the center. You’ve never seen anything like this, neither in your travels, nor within the city walls of Baldur’s Gate.

“Where did you find this?”

You shrug, then point to the pile next to you. “It was buried right there.”

He silently stares at the foil, mouth pursed, until your patience begins to wear thin.

“Well, can you read it or not?”

His nose scrunches. “Of course I can’t read it. It’s written in Infernal.”

That’s… odd. Why would an ordinary apothecary sell goods made by devils? Or, worse, for devils. Unless, of course, it was some sort of marketing trick, perhaps a play on the phrase ‘sinfully sweet’, or some other cringeworthy branding.

You take it back, turning it over in your hands before tearing at the corner of the wrapping. It's sectioned into dark, rich squares, and smells indisputably like chocolate.

“It looks like candy.”

“An excellent observation.” he says, voice dripping with sarcasm. “Now, can we go? We’ve spent more than enough time here already.”

You roll your eyes and stuff it into your bag, setting off for camp, vampire in tow.

–

During dinner, you decide not to tell the others about what you found, knowing Astarion’s likely already forgotten the event. You set down your empty plate, thanking Gale for tonight’s meal. He smiles at you and bids you goodnight as you excuse yourself to your tent.

You pick up your rucksack, thinking fondly of the dessert that awaits you inside. Having lived at the beck and call of your companions for weeks on end, you can’t help but smile at the idea of selfishly indulging in a small treat like this.

You tear open the rest of the wrapping and snap off one of the squares, immediately popping one into your mouth. It melts - buttery in texture, with a smokey, slightly bitter flavor. You can’t remember the last time you’ve eaten something so rich. Maybe weeks of the same rations have made you easier to impress, but this felt especially notable.

As you break off a second piece, a strange tingling sensation begins to spread across your lips - a pleasant buzzing that starts at your neck and spreads down through your chest.

Strange, but not entirely unwelcome. You’ve heard of such inebriating chocolates, ones laced with alcohol or species of flowers that numb one’s senses for a short while. All harmless, of course, and you don’t have watch tonight. You may as well enjoy yourself. If worst comes to worst, Shadowheart is just outside with an assortment of spells and potions. Always better to ask for forgiveness.

It only takes you minutes to finish half the bar. You set the rest next to your bedroll for later and turn to blow out your candles, enjoying the lingering physical effects of the chocolate. Your skin feels flushed and delightfully warm as you settle down for the night.

When sleep finally takes you, it's dreamless, at first. Your consciousness sways, floating in an empty abyss, until colors begin to bleed onto the blank canvas of your mind.

A trickle of red morphs into the shape of familiar eyes, piercing you with their intensity..

Droplets of white spatter over a dark background, diffusing, blending into whisps. They curl and twist before settling into soft, coiffed fibers.

Hair , you recognize immediately, his hair . His eyes.

Astarion.

His image fully takes form, as if it had been waiting for you to make the connection before entirely revealing itself.

He reaches out and seizes you, grabbing painfully at your hips as you crash into his body, hands exploring you - tight, possessive, squeezing at every inch of exposed skin before settling on the curve of your ass. He digs into your flesh with the blunt edge of his nails.

His lips press hot, wet kisses to your throat, mouthing just below the ear, before dragging his tongue along your nape and sucking, hard . You whine at the pressure, eliciting a grin from the elf, so characteristically pleased with the pathetic little noise he’s managed to pull from you.

“You thought sleeping would allow you to escape this - to escape me , unscathed?” He growls against your skin, his voice almost unrecognizable - as if it’s layered beneath a lighter, somehow more arrogant, feminine one.

“No, no, no. Wake up, darling. You’re in for a very long night.”

–

You startle awake, gasping - loud, labored breaths struggling to make use of the unbearably thin air. The edges of your tent bleed in and out of focus, spinning at a nauseating pace as you attempt to recollect yourself.

You wipe at the sweat collecting on your brow, the muscles of your arm heavy and aching, and find that your skin is absolutely drenched.

Hot. Why is everything so hot?

It's as if you're being cooked alive beneath your blankets, strangled beneath the furs. You throw them off; normally soft to the touch, the fibers now only worsen the prickling beneath your skin.

Could this be some sort of illness? A fever?

No, this doesn’t make sense. Everything feels off.

Fleeting thoughts of Astarion cross your mind - quick flashes of a sinful smile that was not his own.

It didn’t quite match the one you’d silently come to admire, and now that you think of it, the hunger in his gaze was much too intense for the reserved elf.

His hands, his mouth, the way he touched you -

Your abdomen cramps, bringing your thoughts to a screeching halt.

A stabbing, visceral pain; a knife plunging into your organs. It overwhelms you, forces your body to curl into itself. You hold your pelvis, grunting, and grasp at your sheets. Tears sting the corner of your eyes.

This is - well, you have no idea what this is.

You can’t think past the pounding in your head, the throbbing in your midsection. You're compulsively twisting, writhing, begging the gods for some sort of reprieve, but it's then when you make the most mortifying discovery of the night.

You’re soaked .

N ot just your smallclothes, which may have been understandable given your strange dreams, but through your damned pants. Not even the sheets were spared.

“What in the hells…?”

You run your fingers over yourself, only intending to confirm the horrifying reality of your situation - that this is not, in fact, some sick, perverted nightmare, but the lightest touch sets off every nerve.

You wail at the sensation: one massive wave of bliss giving way to several small jolts of pain.

Pleasure to the point of agony.

The shock of the sudden orgasm courses from your sex through every limb, clenching and releasing pitiful, warm slick. It leaks freely out of you into your already thoroughly ruined underwear.

Your heart pounds. You stay like that for what feels like a lifetime, toes curled, limbs twitching, waiting for your body to settle.

After a minute or so, your breathing evens, and the thick haze surrounding your thoughts begins to lift just slightly, along with the suffocating heat.

But something within you knows this isn’t the end - knows this isn’t enough . A desperation lurks beneath the surface that you can’t quite name. It screams at you. You need more.

‘Aw…’ A familiar, feminine voice prods at your mind. You quickly recognize her, the woman from your dreams who wore Astarion’s image.

‘All alone, are we? Empty and needing to be filled? Doesn’t that hurt?’

It does. It aches unlike anything you’ve ever known. The lingering buzz of your orgasm just barely quells the worsening cramps, and they’re beginning to rear their ugly head again not minutes later.

You choke out a sob. “Wh- why are you doing this? What do you want?”

Sharp, wicked laughter fills your head, echoing off the walls of your skull. ‘I’m not doing anything, dear. Just enjoying the show.’ She hisses, ‘I told you, it’s going to be a very long night.’

You must be hallucinating. This fever - whatever this is, is simply cauterizing your senses, or possibly interacting with the tadpole? But the tadpole doesn’t speak, not like this. Never so clearly. Not with words.

Think, please. There has to be a reason this -

“Is everything alright?” Shadowheart raps on the canvas of your tent. “I heard a yelp. Are you hurt?”

Shit.

‘Ooh, this one might do!’ You feel an unwelcome… eagerness flood you.

No. No. Absolutely not.

You try not to panic.

Under no circumstances should she or anyone else come in here.

The best strategy may be to ignore her - pretend you’re still sleeping. It seems like a good plan, but before you have a chance to follow through with it, another sharp contraction hits. This one is somehow even worse than the ones before.

You pull your sheets up to your mouth to stifle your whine, but the half elf’s ears are sharper than most. “I’m coming in.”

She opens the flap to your tent and gasps when she sees you there - skin flushed pink, doubled over and covered in sweat.

“Gods, what’s wrong? What’s happened?” Her hand reaches out towards you.

Without thinking, you swat it away with your own. Your skin tingles at the contact, and the essence of a smile crosses over the threshold into your mind. The intruder giggles with satisfaction.

“Don’t,” you plead, “Don’t touch me.”

She scans over you, taking in your humiliating state. Her face twists with concern. “I need to know if you’re feverish. Please. You look awful.”

‘Well, I think you look delectable.’

You groan.

At this point, you know it’s no use fighting this thing on your own. You go back and forth on whether you want to tell her the whole truth, about the voice in your head and its influence on your body, but the idea mortifies you into silence.

Regardless, a cleric is likely your best chance of fixing this literal mess, so you nod, close your eyes, and brace yourself.

Shadowheart’s palm meets your forehead. It’s somehow worse than you anticipated. Even the simple, chaste touch sends you reeling, as if her soft hands are caressing your entire body. Flashes of heat wash over you, burning your skin, threatening to pull you back under another wave of ecstasy.

It’s too much. You try your hardest to suppress a moan, but the muffled sound manages to escape from between your tightened lips, pitiful and broken.

The disembodied voice squeals with delight.

She quickly retracts her hand, clearing her throat. “Apologies. I can confirm your temperature is… elevated, but the rest…” She shakes her head. “I’ve never seen anything like this.”

You want to scream, cry - anything to release your frustration, but you keep your mouth shut, not wanting to risk making any more unsavory noises.

“I believe I can give you some relief by treating the fever, but I’ll have to consult the others on the rest. This doesn’t look like any ordinary sickness.”

Consult the others? No. Gods, no. Nobody can know about this. Is she mad?

You intend to protest, beg her not to share this with anyone, tell her whatever death awaits you on the other side of this would be preferable, but she’s speaking an incantation before you have the chance.

A bright, green aura envelopes you, cooling your skin and ever so slightly easing the cramps. With the pain dulled, it's as though you can finally think again.

You want to laugh. This situation is so utterly ridiculous that you’d find it hilarious, were it anyone else, but with the modicum of relief comes exhaustion - eyelids heavy, vision blurring with weariness.

“Get some rest. We’ll figure this out.”

Her reassuring words are the last thing you hear before you’re overcome by darkness.

#bg3 #bg3 astarion #astarion #astarion fanfic #astarion x reader #astarion x you #baldur's gate 3 #astarion acunin #posting this was like pulling teeth im gonna disappear for a while #my fics #spittle

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ilykaveh · 1 year

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ꨄ︎ . ⋆ MOONLIGHT SONATA !

thoma.

ABOUT: unknowingly summoning a demon has its consequences. you have to hold up your end of the bargain one way or another...

CONTENT: demon ! thoma , sub fem reader , humping, virginity loss, monsterfucking, possessiveness, corruption , cunnilingus, size kink, dp, praise, overstimulation, multiple rounds, dacryphilia, rough towards the end, gaping, breeding, squirting.

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

being from a small fishing town just outside of liyue harbour had its difficulties. life was simple, unexciting - you envied the tales you’d heard of women in the city, spending evenings at lavish restaurants and having grandiose tea parties with guest lists containing a plethora of personalities.

times were especially hard when the bounties from the sea remained scarce, meaning that the exports were low. everybody was becoming increasingly stressed, some even moving away to seek financial growth in some other sectors of teyvat. village elders began to find themselves in ill health, the stress wearing away at them. it was a sorry sight, one you no longer wished to perceive.

whilst taking a late night walk along the nearby river, something glittering upon the riverbed caught your eye. it was buried under a pile of seaweed, loose mud obscuring it ever so slightly. it took a moment to shake the item free, untangling it from nature’s grasp and discovering what you recognized as a drifting bottle, containing a withered note and a rusty old coin. you dunked the body of the bottle in the shallow stream, admiring how the moonlight reflected off of the object. there was something alluring about it, and if you squinted you were sure you could see the faint glow that it emitted - reminiscent of a halo, though that would turn out to be ironic further down the line. . .

upon returning home, you started to better inspect the bottle, illuminated by the candlelight of your kitchen table. there was no indication that water had seeped past the cork, though the scroll of paper inside seemed to have aged. just how long had this been at sea for?

the cork slid out with a single tug; something that was strange considering how tightly it had appeared to be in there. you retrieved the note with the same amount of ease, carefully unravelling it to reveal a what you couldn’t distinguish as being a message or more concerningly, a warning:

“may those whom this bottle graces forever be blessed,

and be gifted benevolence in his behest;

one summon will gift you just this, so strap in! and

for as long as you live, good things will always happen.”

you read the short poem over a few times, unsure of what to make of it. sure, you’d heard tales of spirit summoners and their adventures, though had always assumed they were simply make believe, a story utilized by adults in order to haunt or encourage a child’s imagination. it was a struggle to believe that a key to your success, a tool seeming to claim that it possessed the ability to bring greatness back to the village, had fallen right into your lap.

even if you did want to test the waters and try your hand at summoning whichever entity is referring to, you didn’t know how to go about it. all you had received was a measly note lacking decipherable detailing - for all that you knew, it could merely be a tease, a bottle set adrift by some teenagers hoping to mess with an unsuspecting traveler.

not in the mood to further entertain such childish thoughts, you moved to grasp the bottle once again, wishing to shake the coin out of it. perhaps you could sell it to a merchant and fetch a decent price on the thing.

confusion consumed you as you found that the coin was already resting on the table next to the withered note. surely you would remember taking it out. . . right?

shrugging it off as becoming increasingly sleepy, you picked up the coin to inspect it slightly, flipping it in the air and catching it in a fist. it once again caught the light in an eerie manner, but you let it sit on the table and headed off to bed regardless, leaving the bottle and its contents to be dealt with in the morning.

. . .

in all honesty, you’d forgotten about the bottle. you’d had a peaceful night, more so than usual. mornings began with your usual routine, finding yourself brewing a cup of coffee when interrupted by an uproar of noise from inside the village.

flinging the front door open haphazardly, mug still in hand, you went to further investigate the commotion. it seemed as though the early morning fishing boats had already returned, and you instantly feared the worst, especially when taking into account the declining health of many of the town’s fishermen. a crowd had gathered at the docks, and your initial thoughts became immediately disproven.

the smell of fish was one that you were used to, albeit it seemed stronger than you had ever known. the closer that you got to the boats, the more fish that came into your line of vision. compared to the scarcities that the village had been facing, you were astonished that they’d returned with such an unbelievable amount! surely this would keep everybody fed for a week, along with being enough to trade for some serious mora!

it was only then that your mind began to wander back to the bottle that you’d found; surely these two events were mere coincidences. . . right? perhaps it was simply a blessing from the archons, and nothing more. you recalled tales of entities from another world whom blessed to the regular folk of teyvat before then demanding an astounding price in return.

the thought of being indebted to such a creature shook you slightly, an uneasy feeling settling in your stomach. you did your best to attempt to ration with these negative thoughts, instead reminding yourself that such stories were simply old wive’s tales passed down generation to generation in order to teach their young that they shouldn’t rely on others, but should instead retain a strong persistence and work for whatever it is that they wish for - to not take shortcuts nor back down in the face of difficulty.

regardless, you went about your day minding your own business. nothing else was out of the ordinary, other than the fact that the entire village grew busier due to the morning’s large intake. the subsequent boats who returned seemed to have similar luck too, which only amplified the workload for everybody. but again, things were fairly regular outside of that. you even took another evening stroll along the same stream that you’d discovered the bottle in, finding it a calming feature of your daily routine.

afterwards, you returned home as usual. upon unlocking your door, you removed your boots, heading to the kitchen to make yourself a hot beverage.

“hey there, darlin’,”

an unfamiliar voice caught you off guard. a million thoughts rushed through your mind, instinctively grasping for a kitchen knife, should you need to defend yourself from the stranger in your home. you turned around, shaky hands gripping your makeshift weapon. you were met with a man, taller than yourself, donning a cheeky grin and what appeared to be two short horns.

“no need for that,” he noted, moving to take the knife out of your hands with ease. “i’m not gonna hurt you, sweetheart.” he mumbled something about how stupid humans were before taking a seat at your table.

“who are you?” your trembling bottom lip told the man all he needed to know: that you’d summoned him without knowing. he picked up the coin that you’d left on the table from the night prior, flipping it and catching it in a fist, exactly the way that you had done.

“the name’s thoma, and just who might you be?”

your eyes grew wide, scanning memories for a reason as to why the name seemed so familiar.

“thoma? like the old inazuman fairy story? you’re not real, i must be imagining this,” you insisted, feeling silly for talking to yourself out loud. clearly your mind was playing a cruel trick on you and there was nobody in your home except for yourself.

“i’m as real as you, darling.” he watched your expression intently, not wanting to come on too strong. “those tales aren’t the most accurate. i just fix people’s problems, promise! my coin finds those in need and gives little humans like you a means to summon me.”

he took your silence as a cue to continue his backstory, watching as you judged the situation to your best ability.

“i’m not technically from inazuma, you know? born and bred in monstadt! i took a ship to inazuma to visit my father. . .” there came the painful chapter that made thoma’s cheery expression falter for a split second. “i got caught in a shipwreck - i was found by a man who taught me how to best help others, to share the kindness that he extended to me, if you will.”

thoma cleared his throat, the bright eyed and bushy tailed demeanour returning.

“he tethered me to this coin, and now i get to travel through the lands and see places i never dreamed of!” you could detect a twinge of pain being masked here, though chose to keep it to yourself. “i help people like you - why do you think there’s an abundance of fish all of a sudden, hmm?”

your heart dropped at that statement. if he’d granted you a favor, you knew that you’d have to pay it back eventually. . .

“what do you want?” your tone blunt and cold.

“lighten up, darlin’! i can’t do anything you don’t agree to.”

“i don’t have much i can offer you.” the room fell silent for a moment, and your voice fell to barely above a whisper. “d-do you want me to sleep with you?”

thoma gasped, stunned at your question. “of course not! what kind of demon do you take me for?”

“i- umm,” you stuttered, “i heard stories of your- your kind offering to erase payments for sex, and i just- i’m sorry. i don’t know what else to offer-”

“relax.” thoma interrupted. “i mean, you’re a pretty thing, so i wouldn’t turn it down. but it’s your choice, doll. you get to pick what i take from you. hell, offer me something like that and i’ll stick around a little longer,”

he didn’t think you would listen to the final part of that, for your brain would instead be spinning with ideas of what exactly you could pay in return.

“so you’d make sure there’s enough fish? i-if i sleep with you?”

thoma didn’t know how to respond, instead giving you space to continue. your gaze averted to the flooring as you admitted:

“because i’m okay with it,”

if you were looking, you would have seen thoma’s eyes darken with lust. he stood up once again, closing the gap between the pair of you. your hands gripped the counter as thoma kissed you with a fervour, lips tasting of sugary treats, though embellished with a salty twinge. upon pulling away from you, the demon licked his lips, eying you up and down.

“a virgin?” he questioned, hungry gaze feeling almost predatory. your cheeks heated up with embarrassment - whilst thoma wasn’t wrong, you didn’t want to admit it. it felt as though he knew your innermost secrets, all from a simple clashing of teeth.

“don’ worry, i’ll be gentle,” he continued, lifting you to wrap your legs around his waist. his grip on your thighs was firm enough to support you, though tender enough as not to cause you any unnecessary pain. occasionally he squeezed the plush skin, eliciting the cutest little whimpers from you.

thoma was smirking by the time he had maneuvered you both so that he could rest you on the edge of your table, planting himself between your legs. the bulge in his pants was already becoming prevalent as he began to kiss along your neck, sucking a masterpiece of hickies into your sweet skin. if he was going to be your first, thoma planned to do it right.

for a demon, he really was benevolent. the nips against the juncture of your neck were playful, though not enough to actually hurt you - they merely tickled. one of his hands pressed your lower half closer to thoma’s body as he allowed you to gyrate your hips against him subconsciously. his heightened senses could almost smell how wet you were for him, able to detect the slick gathering between your legs without so much as taking a peek for himself. his other hand trailed underneath your shirt, tracing unrecognizable shapes into your skin before reaching the hook of your bra.

thoma took his mouth off of you for a brief moment, allowing him to strip your top half completely bare for him. the demon found himself struggling to think straight, instead overwhelmed by carnal desires to remove the rest of your clothing and plough into your virgin cunt. in a complete contrast to his prior, cheery demeanor, thoma wished to mark you as his property.

he pressed his pelvis closer to you, bulge becoming more and more evident with each passing moment. nimble fingers began to rid you of your remaining clothes; thoma shrugged off his own jacket before throwing his shirt to some unknown location that he could uncover later.

shortly enough, the pair of you were left in only your respective undergarments. thoma couldn’t help himself but chuckle as he saw the damp patch seeping through your panties, unable to resist making a sly comment.

“all this just for me, darlin’?” he dragged a finger across your clothed folds, applying enough pressure to make you squirm, though nowhere near the amount that you desired.

you were already out of your depth. having a man (well, could you even call him such? he was a demon after all) see you in such a vulnerable state felt so foreign, yet at the same time was beyond exhilarating. you felt dizzy, butterflies bursting in your stomach as all you wished for in that moment was to have thoma make you scream.

his fingers danced over your pebbled nipples, pinching at the hardened buds ever so gently. yet he still fought to contain himself, demon instincts working overtime to corrupt his thoughts. thoma’s hand then made a beeline for your pussy, hooking his fingers in the waistband of your panties. your pleas of consent went straight to his crotch, fueling his eagerness to devour your drooling cunt.

as he slid off your underwear, thoma had to bite his lip so as not to groan at the sight. he instantly dropped to his knees, spreading your legs open wider for him to get a better look at you.

“so fuckin’ cute,” he mumbled under his breath before diving into your weeping pussy. he began by placing a kiss to your clit, followed by kitten licks around the swollen bud, experimenting to discover how you liked it best. you didn’t know what you were expecting, though were pleasantly surprised to discover that your demon seemed to come with a forked tongue that you hadn’t previously noticed. a guttural groan fell from his lips as your hands shot to grip the two black horns protruding from his head, your cunt muffling the sweet sound. you used this as leverage to pull yourself closer to him, and if it weren’t for thoma holding you in place you were certain that you would have fallen right off of the edge of the table.

he changed things up, licking a long stripe up down your slit until he located the tight muscles of your entrance. with the knowledge that you hadn’t laid with another before, thoma decided it best to insert his tongue, lapping up your juices as he prodded the warm muscle against your opening.

meanwhile, you were reduced to euphoric gasps. you’d only ever played with yourself, and this was a feeling much different to that of which your own hands could conjure. thoma was diligent, not even leaving your clit without attention as he brushed his nose against the twitching nub, one flat palm keeping you spread out for him. the only sounds filling the kitchen were that of your angelic moans and the lewd noises of him slurping at your cunt. before you knew it, you could feel yourself getting closer to the edge. you tried to hold back, you really did. yet thoma’s mouth was rather heavenly (ironic, considering his demon blood).

“‘m gonna cum,” you whined, grasping thoma’s horns tighter.

instead of replying, he simply patted your thigh a few times, refusing to stop his ministrations and merely hoping that you catch on to his non-verbal cue. you did just that so perfectly, your pretty pussy fluttering around thoma’s tongue as he continued to eat you through your high.

you didn’t even notice that your grip remained on his horns until he patted your wrists, signaling that you could let go of him now. he praised you for how well you had done for him, kissing your forehead and ensuring that you were okay.

in all honesty, he would have been happy to call it even right there and then. the taste of your cunt echoing on his tongue was enough for him to retreat to whatever realm that he hailed from and to jack himself off to. but how could he do such a thing when you sat there begging him for more?

there it was again. the primal urge to stretch your cunt and claim you as his territory. the thought of branding you with a mark, officially claiming you as his, even crossed thoma’s mind. he worked to chase away those ideas by tasting your lips again, simultaneously slipping his hand down to your folds once again.

he coated his middle finger in your slick before aligning it with your hole, continuing to kiss you as a distraction should any pain occur. gently, he circled your entrance before easing his digit into you, massaging your walls as you clamped around him. once satisfied, he added another, beginning to scissor your pussy open, preparing you to take your first cock.

thoma wanted to hear you, instead pulling away from your mouth and letting you rest your head on his shoulder. he cooed your incoherent babbles, telling you that this was necessary before he could fill you up himself, and reminding you that he wished not to hurt you.

he listened as a ecstatic yelp feel from your lips, indicating to him that he’d discovered your g-spot. as the soft pads of his fingers glided across the sweet spot with each thrust, making the stretch even more bearable for you to take. he could feel the pulsing of your gooey walls, the noises you made reminiscent of those you had previously released as you approached your prior orgasm.

“gonna take another one for me, pretty girl?” he asked, though you couldn’t decipher whether or not he meant another finger or if he just wanted for you to cum again.

it turns out you were wrong either way, for the demon proceeded to slip another finger into your messy cunt, as well as have his thumb seek out the nub of your clit, massaging sloppy circles in order to push you over the edge. already sensitive from your previous high, it didn’t take you much longer to shout his name, nails scratching his muscular figure as you fell apart on his hand.

“‘s it,” he muttered, “what a good girl f’me,”

once you had come down from your second orgasm of the evening, thoma pulled his hand away from your pussy. he lifted your head up to look at your face, admiring the glow that the moonlight bathed you in before wiping away the stray tears caused by how darn sensitive your body already was.

“that’s enough, mkay? ‘m not gonna make you-”

“no,” you interrupted, voice barely above a whisper. “need all of you, please. i don’ want you to go yet,”

despite already seeming overstimulated and teary-eyed, thoma couldn’t deny such sweet pleas. he opted for laying you back against the table, planting soft kisses along your body as he finally trailed back to your hot cunt. instead of touching you directly, he pressed his lips along your inner thigh, watching your muscles twitch in anticipation.

“if ya want me to stop, just say so,” he warned before finally slipping off his boxers.

the way in which he had positioned you allowed for you to see his cock as thoma unclothed, the sight making your jaw slacken. it only further cemented the idea in you head that he was indeed not human, for instead of one he possessed two cocks. you gawked, eyes wide as you felt you walls tighten at the thought of having him in you. each appendage was as large as the other, both ribbed and with a slight barb around the tip. you noticed a thick vein pulsing on the underside, wondering if that was an indicator that the demon was ready to pump you full of his load.

as thoma approached you again, he sized you up. he rested one of his cocks on your stomach, his pupils dilating as he took not of just how deep he would be inside of you. concurrently your mind was consumed by fears of whether or not you would be able to take even one of his cocks, let alone the pair at once. could your mortal body even take such a stretch?

your fears were chased away by the feeling of his bulbous head pressing against your entrance, thoma running it along your slit a few times just to collect some of your juices. he looked to you for consent, waiting for you to nod before he started to ease himself into you. his other cock remained bobbing around your stomach; thoma would have pumped his fist around it should he not have been so concerned about you instead.

it felt like a fire had been set ablaze in your belly, tears gracing your lashline as you yelped, yet never once telling him to stop.

“so tight,” thoma uttered, “you virgins always have the prettiest little pussies,”

you couldn’t even retort if you wanted to, mind going blank as the ridges of thoma’s cock brushed against your sweet spot. he took his time bottoming out, revelling in the spasming of your delightful cunt as you cried out in euphoria. you could feel the barbs around his tip tickling your cervix as he bottomed out.

“look at how well ya did, darlin’,” he praised, smiling at you as you blinked through glassy eyes. “maybe i should try fitting them both in, hmm?”

thoma noted that you made no move to say no, allowing his mind to drift to filthy thoughts of truly breaking you in and how damn gorgeous you would look with a cunt full of his cum. this spurred him to begin moving, dragging his cock out of you at a painfully slow pace. his initial thrusts were shallow, waiting for you to start whining for more before pulling himself almost all the way out, until only his head rest in you, and proceeding to slide his way right back in, once again nestling himself against your cervix.

he listened to your body, doing his best not to cause you too much pain as he stretched your poor pussy to mold around his cock. he was aware of how sensitive you were, overstimulated before he could even fill you up.

“go on, cum on me, sweet thing,”

the feeling of you clamping around his cock was a feeling so very different to having you cum on his fingers. it was much more intense, and seemed to finally be his breaking point. you were busy seeing stars as thoma pulled you closer to him, folding you into a sloppy position reminiscent of a mating press, ensuring that he had full access to your exposed cunt as he grabbed his other cock in his fist.

its tip was already leaking precum, a portion of which had already caused a mess on your lower tummy. he pumped his fist a few times before aligning himself with your hole once again, this time pushing your pussy to its limits as he thrust both of his cocks into you.

knowing he was not only the first cock you had, but also the second, filled thoma with a sense of pride, encouraging him to continue his assault on your abused cunt. you took him so well, he wanted to stuff you full of his cum. no, scratch that, he needed to fill you with his cum.

thoma had gone feral, lost his sense of reality as he pounded you like an animal. he used your body, bending it and shifting it so that he could find the best way to bruise your cervix, chasing his own orgasm without any shred of care for you. hell, he wouldn’t be surprised if you’d already cum around his cocks at least once more with how fucking amazing you felt.

words had truly fleed you, leaving you babbling strings of his name as thoma finally began sensing his orgasm on the horizon. he ploughed into you with inhumane speed, truly exhibiting his demon side unlike you had seen yet tonight. if you were level headed enough to look closely, you could see his emerald irises be overtaken by pure black.

all that it took was one nudge against a certain spot inside of you, and you began to fall over the edge once again. this orgasm hit harder than the last few, overstimulation having truly set in. your gooey walls held thoma in a vice grip, enough so to trigger his own orgasm as both of his cocks spurted cum against your womb, the warmth feeling comforting to you whilst in your fucked out bliss. the sensation made your pussy gush, a jet of liquid spilling all over thoma and on your table. sloppy thrusts continued as your squirted, waiting until it had died down to a trickle before pulling out of you.

to say that you were fucked out felt like an understatement. you were exhausted, struggling to move as thoma finished with you. he was intrigued at the way your cunt gaped as he took his cocks out of you, watching ribbons of his cum dribble out of you as you lay unmoving.

he admired your trembling form basking in the moonlight before dealing with you, ensuring he cleaned up and that you got to bed comfortably. the demon even placed a kiss to your forehead once again, this time a silent promise that he’d stick around a while longer.

#delilah.docs #thoma smut #thoma x reader #thoma x you #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact smut #genshin x reader #genshin smut #genshin imagines #genshin impact thoma #thoma x y/n #thoma drabbles

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cheval-grand · 5 months

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so, to summarize Winter Village this year

winter village started with a filter that made it unseeable

glitches including but not limited to: 1a. Various objects stuck to hands 2a. Arabians could not wear arabian exclusive gear 3a. Random soundclips of chainsaws playing

the event for this year being collecting 18,000 winter magic snowflakes, which for the first two weeks, could only be collected one by one

SSE breaking a years long tradition of giving star coins on christmas

some people saying if they bought one-time star rider on sale they aren't getting star coin allowance anymore??

feel free to add to what a wonderful christmas this has been :)!

#sso #star stable #star stable online

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kaseyskat · 25 days

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forgot to post this yesterday but uhhhhhh tldr naddpod has consumed my life and i am channeling that into a marcanne eldermourne au which will mean absolutely nothing to everyone save maybe three people but hopefully i can translate the au well enough that yall enjoy it anyways

plain text under cut:

“You don't have to do this," Marcy bites, her voice coming out weak and betraying her own fear. "I am your daughter."

"And my own daughter should have known better," her father says in return, with a practiced sigh. "If you tell us where your friend went, perhaps we can reconsider."

Marcy only grits her teeth– her father, surely, can read her own conviction in her eyes.

Truthfully, she was not supposed to be the one on the altar today. When her father learned that Marcy had been learning magic from Anne – Anne, the kind and gentle girl with the silver streaks in her fluffy brown hair, who had been just as much of an outcast as Marcy herself was in this village, who did not have to study in books to light fires and animate objects and could just do it naturally – he had offered Marcy alternative paths but said that Anne had to die, had to be executed, for her bad influence.

How could something so pure as Anne's magic be bad? Marcy, at the age of thirteen, does not understand.

But she had made her choice. She had made the choice in the form of stealing the generous wedding dowry her father had prepped for her, shoving the bags of coin that had been saved for her eventual nuptials into Anne's arms, and she had told Anne to flee, to escape. Marcy had assured her that she could talk her father down.

Marcy was wrong. And now Marcy is going to die and she is going to die knowing that the last time she ever saw her beloved best friend was in the form of fearful eyes tearfully leaving her behind.

#kasey writes stuff #marcanne #marcy wu #anne boonchuy #though she’s only mentioned here #man it’s been a minute since i’ve used amphibia tags #writing is slow rn cause i’m still chugging along listening to naddpod c3 but #soon i’ll be caught up and then. and then.

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scoobhead · 2 years

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late june takes a HARD right into the horror plot of dracula. i'm surprised and frankly a little appalled that no movie adaptation of dracula has ever really tried to portray this part of the story. jonathan is fully and completely trapped, increasingly losing hope with every day. even if he DOES manage to escape, he can't rely on the locals to help him because they all believe that he's out in the village stealing their children - because dracula is wearing jon's clothes to impersonate him. it's becoming increasingly apparent that jonathan has no power, not even ownership of his own material possessions. he listens as an angry, grieving mother is ripped apart by wolves just beneath his window and is absolutely powerless to do anything.

the OTHER part of this that movie adaptations ALSO neglect is that despite all of this, jonathan is still an active protagonist!! he's doing things to try to help his own situation! he free solos the castle wall, because fuck it, if the count can lizard his way around the castle then so can he. he BREAKS INTO the count's bedroom and nancy drews his way into investigating and identifying the coins and chains within it. against his better judgment, he continues into the chapel. he stares the sleeping count IN THE FACE and gets close enough to his body to look for the key, until he decides against it!

jonathan is objectively more milquetoast and bland than most of the other protagonists, especially when compared to mina, the cowboy, and the yet-to-be-introduced van helsing, BUT he holds a really special place in my heart for acting realistically in his situation. he's a prisoner and what power he has is being actively robbed from him at every opportunity, so he breaks the rules of the game to get an advantage. that's smart! that's brave! stan jonathan harker!!!

#dracula #dracula daily #dd june 24 #dd june 25 #nat og #jonathan harker #1k

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blueiskewl · 3 months

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1,700-Year-Old Roman Tombs Discovered in Bulgaria

A farmer in Bulgaria accidentally discovered two graves of a wealthy Roman-era family, but they appear to tell "a sad family story."

Two large graves discovered in northern Bulgaria likely tell "a sad family story" about wealthy Roman landowners whose child predeceased them in the third century A.D., archaeologists say.

In December 2023, a farmer unexpectedly found the graves while plowing his field in the village of Nova Varbovka. Because this region was a Roman province called Moesia in antiquity, archaeologists from the Veliko Tarnovo Regional Museum of History came to excavate the graves.

Both graves were built of brick, with plaster lining the walls and a large slab of limestone covering them. The larger of the two was roughly 10 feet (3 meters) long and contained the remains of two adults — a man and a woman who were both around 45 to 60 years old at death — buried with jewelry, coins, and ceramic and glass vessels.

The smaller grave, made somewhat earlier, contained the skeleton of a 2- to 3-year-old child and a rare bronze medallion depicting the Roman emperor Caracalla's (ruled A.D. 198 to 217) visit in A.D. 214 to Pergamon (also spelled Pergamum) in Asia Minor (modern-day Turkey), where he sought out the temple to Asclepius, the god of healing. Collectively, the two graves may represent a family's final resting place.

Some of the limestone from the graves appears to have come from a quarry near Nicopolis ad Istrum, a Roman and early Byzantine town founded by the emperor Trajan in the early second century. "This peculiarity and other indications make me think that the deceased are somehow related to the territory of Nicopolis ad Istrum," Kalin Chakarov, an archaeologist at the Veliko Tarnovo Regional History Museum, said in an email.

Chakarov, who excavated the burials along with colleagues Nedko Elenski and Mihaela Tomanova, noted that the Caracalla medallion could point to an Asia Minor origin for the occupants of the graves, which would be consistent with the fact that Nicopolis ad Istrum was built mainly by settlers from Asia Minor. "Of course, we are searching for an opportunity to make DNA and other analyses which our museum can't afford, to see if this hypothesis is correct," Chakarov said.

"The discovery of such tombs in the territory of Bulgaria is not a surprise, since the climate and soils are very good for growing agricultural crops," Ivan Tsarov, director of the Veliko Tarnovo Regional History Museum, said in an email. "Probably the tombs are of rich landowners," Tsarov said, since "it was the practice in Moesia Inferior for landowners to live in the warmer months of the year and be buried on their estates."

The artifacts discovered during the excavation are still being processed in the museum laboratory, where they are undergoing conservation and restoration, according to Tsarov. These include objects used during the deceased's lifetime, as well as those that would accompany them into the afterlife. In addition to jewelry made of glass beads and gold, there were six coins that dated to between A.D. 200 and 225, as well as a lamp, a leather shoe and several glass bottles, three of which were "lacrimaria," small flasks for collecting the tears of mourners.

"I think that it is a sad family story from the first half of the 3rd century," Chakarov said. "A dead infant, buried by their parents, who had their last resting place on the same spot where they buried their child."

Chakarov plans to conduct work in the area to try to find where these people lived, which he thinks was likely close to this newly discovered cemetery.

By Kristina Killgrove.

#1700-Year-Old Roman Tombs Discovered in Bulgaria #village of Nova Varbovka #Moesia #Emperor Caracalla #ancient grave #ancient tomb #ancient artifacts #archeology #archeolgst #history #history news #ancient history #ancient culture #ancient civilizations #roman history #roman empire

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absurdthirst · 1 year

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A Life Together {Pero Tovar x F!Reader}

Rating: Explict

Word Count: 13.5k

Warnings: First love, mentions of childbirth, mentions of death during childbirth, fear of childbirth, anxiety, handjobs, loss of virginity, mentions of brothels/prostitution, oral sex (female receiving), vaginal sex, threats of death, promise of forced breeding, non-con due to no protection, forced pregnancy, anger, vomiting, blood, childbirth

Comments: You have waited for Pero Tovar to come home since you were 17 years old. Now that he is back, your father has a demand. A grandchild to live off his land - despite knowing your very real fear of childbirth.

🚨🚨 DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT - This story contains elements of forced pregnancy, non-con elements due to that. Do not proceed if you object 🚨🚨

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

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|| MasterList || Pero Tovar MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

“You’ve waited long enough, the boy is either dead or moved on.” Your father doesn’t rage at you, doesn’t raise his voice, but his eyes are flat - far used to beating this dead horse with you. “It’s time you do the same. It is your duty to marry, have children who can inherit my lands.”

Swallowing down the fear, you shake your head. Knowing that it would do no good to tell your father you had no intention of ever having children. You would not die screaming in childbirth from exhaustion like your mother. Having no desire to nurse a babe at your breast or waddle like a fat cow as one grows under your skirts. “Pero Tovar is the only man I have ever considered being my husband.” You remind him like you have countless times before. “You promised my mother that I could choose who I wed.” Thankfully, your father had loved your mother and would never risk her wrath in the afterlife to go against her wishes, leaving you free to pine for the boy who had left so many years ago to sell his sword in hopes of have the coin to properly pay the dowry that is now considerably less than it had been when you were seventeen.

****

“Pero!” You gasp when he kisses along your neck, fumbling like a seventeen year old does from lack of experience.

“Mi amor.” Pero murmurs, caressing your waist. It’s more than he should be able to touch but you are in the woods, hidden from view, and he finds himself struggling to control his need for you.

“Pero. Stop. We need to wait until the wedding!” You remind him and his hands fall from your waist.

“There will be no wedding.” He declares and you spin around to face him, a frown on your beautiful face.

“Wh-why?” You ask, lower lip trembling and he reaches out to caress it with his thumb.

“I have no coin. My parents…they left me with nothing when they died. I am unworthy of you, hermosa. I must leave the village, earn enough coin to pay your dowry. I won’t be gone long, just long enough to be able to provide for you.” He promises and you shake your head.

“I do not care about the coin. My father will waive the dowry. Please do not go. I love you.” You beg, gripping his tunic but he gently pries your fingers from him.

“I must. What man would I be if I remained and was unable to provide for my wife?” He knows about you not wanting children and he’s content to grow old with you. Just you.

“You’d be my husband.” You counter and he smiles, “one day soon.” His promise makes you surge forward to press your lips to his, who knows how long he would be gone for, you want to give him something to return to. You want him to take your innocence before he goes.

Pero groans when you reach down and cup his aching cock through the thin layer of his breeches, straining at them because of your beauty and his love for you. “Amor- no, I-”

“Touch me, Pero.” You beg quietly. “I want to know what it feels like to have the man I love touch my bare skin, to - to deflower me.” The women in the village had taken it upon themselves to talk about what you would expect when you are married since your own mother is long gone. Some of it had horrified you, especially the part of them spilling their seed inside you. “Just- just do not spill inside me.” You beg. “I do not wish to - to grow a child.”

“I can’t. I can’t take your innocence before I leave. I cannot leave your soul tarnished in case I do not return.” He murmurs, caressing your arms. “It would be more than I could handle to leave you here, deflowered, and reputation tarnished. Do not ask this of me. I would be the devil himself, amor. I will return to you.” He promises, leaning in to press his lips to yours again.

You whimper, pressing your lips to his but you know he will not change his mind. “I will wait for you, amor.” You promise breathlessly. “Until you return. I am yours, always.” There is no one else for you beyond Pero. You have loved him since you were children playing together. “Father will not force me to marry another, but please hurry. I wish to be your wife.”

****

Pero is exhausted. Fifteen years later and he's finally returning to the village he lived in as a child. He finally has enough coins after traveling east and he is tired. He prays to God that you are here but he doubts you waited for him. He would understand if you were married and have forgotten him. He has taken too long to return to you.

Washing clothes is never an easy chore but the cool breeze and bright sunshine makes for a happier time spent at the scrub board. The kettle boils over the outside fire, smoke curling up and you hear a horse neigh in the distance, making you look up from where you are stirring the dresses and shirts mixed with lye. Frowning when you see a large man on an even larger war horse. A soldier. Making you put down the paddle and warily watch as he makes his way down the lane towards your father’s home.

Pero sees you outside of your home and he inhales deeply. Fifteen years later and you’re still the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen. “Amor.” He shouts out, kicking the horse’s side to speed up until he’s in front of the cottage. Once he’s near you, he’s swinging his leg over his stead in an effort to get closer to you and he rushes towards you, abandoning the horse. “Amor!” He shouts and pants as he stands in front of you, dragging you into his arms.

“P-Pero!” You cry out, astonished that the man in front of you is the same boy who had left your village fifteen years ago. You don’t recognize him, his features are hard, dark hair covering his face and there is a large, ugly scar that covers his left eye and cheek. You grasp his arms as he pulls you to him and tears slide down your cheeks. “You are alive! You are home!” You cry out, nearly sobbing with happiness that he is not dead like you had secretly feared.

He feels like he’s home, finally. After so many years of fighting for his life and for coins, he has finally returned home to you. “I’m sorry I took so long to return to you. Are you- have you been wed?” He asks, terrified of the answer but he had already told himself that if you were married, he would leave and find another settlement.

Shaking your head, you don’t care that he is filthy from the road or that it’s been years since you’ve kissed him - fifteen to be exact - you lunge forward and press your lips to his quickly. “No, no I am not.” You promise breathlessly between kisses. “I said I would marry no other than you. Now father will be happy.” You giggle, tears still falling and your arms are around his neck and holding him close as if you are afraid he will slip away.

His hands cup your cheeks, pulling back to look at you, and he shifts to kneel, fumbling for his coin purse. He takes out the gold ring he had crafted and kneels in front of you, reaching for your hand. “I have traveled to the far east and back and no one could compare to you, mi amor. Will you marry me?” He asks, knowing he isn’t one for grand gestures but this has been fifteen years in the making, the gold ring in his hand.

“Yes! Yes!” You cry out, launching yourself at him again and it’s only because of Pero’s strength that you don’t knock both of you down to the ground. Kissing him excitedly as you imagine marrying him and finally having the man you love touch you like you have dreamed of for years. “You - you need to talk to my father. He will be happy that you have come back to take me off his hands.”

He grins, “I’m sure he will be.” Pero pulls back so he can slide the ring onto your finger, thanking God that everything had worked out despite taking fourteen years too long. He’s killed, he’s fucked, he’s no longer innocent and he knows he needs to disclose that prior to your union. “Let me stable my horse and I would like to speak to your father. I have your dowry and enough to provide for our life together.”

You nod. “I will get some food for you and father while you talk.” You know that he must be weary, it looks like he has traveled a long way and after you get some bread, meat and cheese together, you will start heating water for him to bathe. Your chores have most likely doubled, but you can’t stop grinning as you kiss him again once more and rush off to tell your father that Pero has come home.

****

Your father chews the bread as he stares at Pero. “You’re back.” He states the obvious and Pero nods, “señor, it took me too long to return to your daughter. I understand if you are angry but I still love her and wish to marry her.”

Your father snorts, “she refused to marry anyone else and she is now an old maid so I pray you are prepared to marry her.” Your father leans closer, watching you through the window as you gather the water for a bath. “I have one condition.” Your father says and Pero nods, “name it.”

Your father sighs, “I have no other children. Her mother, bless her soul, died during childbirth and I could never marry again. I wish for my daughter to have a family to raise on this land. That once I am dead, the land will pass to you and then onto your son. I do not want to end the family line.” Pero hesitates, knowing that you did not wish to have a child. Unless your opinion has changed.

“She does not wish to have a child.” Pero answers and your father shakes his head, “it’s required. You cannot marry her unless you promise me she will bear a child.” He says and Pero nods, “very well.” He will have to speak to you and he will stand by his wife, no matter what your father says.

Leaning back, your father’s eyes narrow, knowing that the younger man has given in too easily. “If she is not carrying a child within months of you bedding her, I will make sure that she remarries someone who will plant a child in her belly.”

Pero frowns, “but we will be married.” He argues, knowing the church would never allow you to marry another.

Your father shrugs, “You will be met with an unfortunate hunting accident in the woods. She will mourn and then I will have her married to a man who will fulfill my wishes to have our family remain on this land.” He threatens softly.

Pero stares at his soon to be father in law, knowing that the man isn’t bluffing. He would have Pero killed if it meant protecting his bloodline. He nods, “very well. Give me six months and if she is not with child….” He trails off, not letting the older man break his gaze.

Your father nods after a moment and picks up his mug of ale. “We understand each other then.” He grunts before he takes a long drink from his cup. “After you eat, bathe.” He huffs. “You stink and I am sure that my daughter would prefer you to be sweet smelling when you bed her tonight.” He glances over at the boy he had known who is now a man. “You didn’t get the rot, did you? Cock still works?” He knows there is no way the boy saved himself for his daughter, it’s not the way that world worked for men.

Pero snorts, staring at your father for a moment, “it still works.” He promises and your father nods, pleased that Pero had taken care of himself.

“I will order the priest to come here to wed you tonight. No time to lose, my daughter has spent too long yearning for you.” Your father stands, readying himself to head into the village to fetch the priest.

Pero watches him go and sees you struggling with the pail of hot water. “Amor.” He tuts, taking the bucket to pour it into the tub you have sitting in the main area of the cottage. He pours the water in and follows you to fill it from the fire you set up outside for boiling water. “I shall do this.” He tells you, working fast to fill the tub and he has no qualms about stripping down in front of you to sink into the tub. You are to be married, you shall see him naked at some point.

Your soft gasp isn’t because you are shocked that Pero stripped down in front of you. It’s due to the fact that you are seeing every inch of his skin for the first time. You see every scar and mole, freckle and imperfection. His cock is flaccid, hanging between his legs as he walks over to climb into the tub and you wonder if it grows larger or just gets hard. You’ve been privy to many conversations with the other women to not know that cocks are different. “Let me…” you rush over to grab the crock of soap and a rag, as well as another bucket to rinse him off.

Pero feels your eyes on him and he sinks down into the warm water, groaning after so many days on horseback. “Do you have any scissors, hermosa? I need to cut my hair.” He gestures to the long locks he was unable to cut prior to arriving on your doorstep. He would’ve stopped off to clean up but he was too eager to finish the journey home.

“I do.” You nod and set down the items next to the tub before you rush off to get your shears. It’s thrilling to have him home again and you have butterflies in your stomach. Plucking them out of the basket and hurrying back over to the tub and Pero. “What did my father say? Did he thank God you were home so his daughter will no longer be a spinster?”

Pero chuckles as he uses the soap to clean off the dirt. “He is fetching the priest for us now. I think he is eager to have you married off, mi amor.” Pero looks up at you as you kneel beside him. He stays still so you can start to cut his tangled locks. “Te amo.” Pero murmurs, watching you with awe, unable to believe he gets to have you after so many years away.

“I love you.” You promise, using your fingers to comb through his hair. “I- I have not let another touch me.” You reveal, wanting him to know you had kept your word and waited for him. “But I - I think that you will have experience, yes?” You ask softly. “That is the way of men. To learn how to please their woman in the beds of others?”

Pero nods, reaching for your hand, “I will not pretend that I have not spent a night in a woman’s bed but I want you to know that no one else has possessed my heart. Even if a woman had my body, for one night, it has always been you who owns my heart, my soul. I was always planning to return to you and if I returned to find you with another, you would have kept my heart in your hands.” He vows, caressing your hand with his thumb.

You bite your lip, knowing that you are luckier than most, he returned to you. His dark gaze bores into yours and you nod. “I would never have married another.” You kneel down next to the tub and your hand slides out of his to drift over your chest. “I want-“ your hand slides down, eager to learn your betrothed’s body. Slipping under the water to touch his cock like you had when you were seventeen, except this time there is no cloth between your hand and his manhood.

Pero hisses when your fingers wrap around his cock. He immediately starts to harden and he is well versed in intimacy now. He doesn’t need to push you away, but he still feels guilty about seeking pleasure before you are wed. “Amor. You don’t - I don’t require you to do this.” He promises you, groaning when you squeeze him and he tilts his head back against the tub. It’s been so long since he’s been touched, not wanting to spend his coins, wanting to come home with as much as possible for you.

“I want to touch you.” You promise him breathlessly, marveling at how he is growing your hand. Wanting to give him pleasure since he kept his word to you. “Wanted to since I was fifteen. Let your wife pleasure you.”

He groans when you squeeze him again and how can he possibly deny you after you’ve waited so long for him? He reaches down to cover your hand with his, slowly squeezing and he starts to pump, his cock hardening fully in your grip. Hearing you call yourself his wife has him on edge already and he hisses when you squeeze and start to pump him. “That’s it, amor. That feels so good.”

Your brows knit together, watching his face as you stroke him just like he’s directing you too. Moaning softly when his cock pulses in your hand and you realize he’s enjoying this. “I want you to fuck me tonight.” Your language is much coarser over the years, few believing you are pure and not holding their tongue around you like they would a younger maiden. “Take my innocence and show me pleasure.”

He groans, letting go of your hand so you can explore his cock. He wants you to touch his body and get to know it as well as your own. Pero grunts when you twist your wrist and your blouse gets wet from the way the water splashes. “I’m going to make you feel good, hermosa.” He promises, “I will make it worth the years you’ve waited for me.”

“I touch myself some nights.” You confess, eyes sliding away so you don’t see his surprise or disapproval. “In the dark and under the covers, thinking of you.” He is still as handsome as you remember, maybe more so with age. You look back down at your hand. “It’s so big now.” You murmur. “You grew even more.”

Pero’s stomach twists at your words, “you will need to show me how you touch yourself, hermosa. I want to know how to pleasure you, to make sure you enjoy yourself.” He reaches up to cup your cheek, bringing your gaze back to his. Your hand squeezes his cock and he groans softly, “this cock is yours now. Yours until I die.”

“Mine.” You love the sound of that and you twist your wrist, pumping his cock faster. “Pero, I love you.” Leaning in, you press your lips to his, wanting him to reach his peak as you work his pulsing length in your hand.

He pants into your mouth, sliding his tongue against yours as you twist your wrist just right and it sends him over the edge. “Fuck. Fuck. Amor. Fuck.” He groans against your chin as his cock starts to pulse in your hand, spurts of hot seed mixing with the water and he presses his lips to yours.

You hum, the lips of your sex dripping with arousal as you watch your fiancé cum. Slowing your hand down to let him bask in the pleasure and letting him go when he starts to soften. “Now.” You peck his lips again and smirk. “It’s time to finish cleaning you up so we can get married.” You murmur.

Pero chuckles, realizing how much he’s missed your bossy nature, remembering the way you’d order him around as children. “Sí, señora.” He winks and he allows you to finish cutting his hair. After he’s washed, he cuts the scruffy beard to shave into a neat mustache. “Am I suitable for marriage?” He asks you once he’s dressed.

“You look….different.” You admit softly. “More handsome, but fierce.” Your fingers brush over his scar and you lean in to kiss the marred skin. “I will be happy to exchange vows with you, but….” You sigh softly. “I still never wish to have children, Pero. I know you were agreeable to that when we were children, but if you have decided that you need sons..” you step away. “I will understand if you choose not to marry me.”

Pero stares at you, your father’s warning in his mind, but he reaches for your hands, taking your hands in his. “Amor. I am not marrying you for children. I am marrying you because I love you. I love you. I have fought tooth and nail to return to you. I would have crawled back if I had to. I love you. For you. I’m marrying you.” He says, squeezing your hands.

Sighing in relief, you smile at him. “Thank you.” You close your eyes and take a deep breath. You had been a little worried that he had changed over the past fifteen years, wanting things that you weren’t going to give him. It would be better to know that now than to find out after he was bound to you and there was nothing to be done to free yourselves. You won’t die like your mother and countless other women in your village. “I should bathe and get ready for the priest as well.”

“I shall leave you to get ready, mi amor.” Pero murmurs, kissing the back of your hands, one after the other. He lets go of you and steps away, deciding to go for a walk so he can reacquaint himself with your father’s land. He must consider his actions. Your father is demanding children, you do not wish to have children. He is torn, wishing he could honor your wishes but he hasn’t come this far to die at the hands of some farmers. When he sees your father walking down the path with the priest, he walks up to greet the priest, glad to see it’s the same man who baptized him as a babe.

“Pero Tovar.” The priest smiles as he comes close, reaching out to clasp the younger man on the shoulders. “You have returned home to your love.” He hums, aware of your stubbornness to move on from your childhood love. While some would have concern about the willfulness of a woman, the priest had borne witness to the love between the two youths before Pero had left to sell his sword and earn coin to be worthy of marrying you. “Do you need to have confession before you wed your bride?” He asks, knowing that Pero might not have spoken to a priest on the road home.

Pero knows he would spend a week telling the priest all of the sins he’s committed prior to marrying you, but he cannot tell the priest that. “I already visited a church on my way home, wanting to offload my soul prior to marrying.” He adds another sin to the list but he will confess privately, his relationship with God is still intact.

“Very well. Is your bride ready?” The priest asks and your father slaps Pero on the shoulder, “I shall fetch her.” Pero nods and guides the priest over to the tree that Pero used to spend hours underneath with you, talking of your future together. A future that is finally happening.

Your hands are shaking when your father comes into the house, staring at you for a moment. “your Pero is waiting.” He tells you gruffly, reaching out and brushing your cheek with the back of his knuckles in a rare moment of gentleness. “You look like your mother.” He praises, patting your shoulder and turning to walk out of the house, knowing you will follow him. Your steps are quick, and you nearly rush forward when you see Pero and the priest standing under the tree.

Pero wipes his hands on his breeches, watching you as you walk towards him, the sun shining down on you and you’re like a gift from God. Despite the blood on his hands, he has returned home to find you waiting for him. A wish he doubted would come true. He takes your hand in his, squeezing as you come to stand beside him.

You can barely hear a word the priest is saying, your heart is pounding so hard. The blood rushing through your ears and unable to do anything else but sneak glances at Pero as he stands tall beside you. You are finally marrying your love, becoming Pero’s wife. Something you have dreamed of since you were a child.

He squeezes your hands, watching you and barely listening to what the priest says, words about the sanctity of marriage. Pero knows he has waited his entire life for this moment. He knows the weight of becoming your husband, and he knows he is ready to be by your side until the day he dies. After repeating the vows, he leans in to kiss you. It’s soft and sweet in front of the priest and your father who looks relieved that you are finally wed.

Melting against Pero, you sigh into the kiss and close your eyes. Happy that you have not been proclaimed to be Pero’s wife. You smile happily when you pull away and stare at him with stars in your eyes. “Husband.” You murmur softly, squeezing your husband’s hand. You turn to your father and grin at him. “I told you I would marry Pero.”

Your father chuckles, “you did.” His eyes drift over to Pero who nods his silent thanks to your father for letting him marry you.

“Mi esposa.” He murmurs, caressing your cheek, and the priest smiles, “congratulations.” He tells you and Pero who thanks him.

“Come on, father. I’ll be spending the night at the inn to give them some privacy. Let us walk back.” He pats the father on the shoulder and guides him down the path back to the village after telling Pero “look after her.”

He nods and watches the older men walk away before he turns to look at you, “come, mi amor. Let’s go home.” He takes your hand to guide you back to the cottage.

You know you shouldn’t be nervous, you know what to expect and Pero would never hurt you. Still, your stomach jitters and your skin is covered with goosebumps as he leads you back to the cottage. Back to the bed that had been yours alone for so long but now that you would be sharing with your husband.

Pero is nervous, not nervous for sex. He’s had sex plenty of times, but he’s never had sex with you. With his wife. He exhales shakily and reaches for you, pulling you close so he can softly kiss you. He takes his time, in no rush, and he pecks your lips several times before deepening the kiss, his hands trailing over your body. “Hermosa, you are - you are exquisite.” He declares, kissing down your neck.

Panting slightly, you close your eyes and let him touch you however he wants. While you wish you had both lost your innocence together, you trust him with everything you are. Knowing that he would never hurt you. “I want you.” You whimper. “More than I did fifteen years ago.”

“I have always wanted you. Even when I was sleeping on the hard ground, when I was in an inn, when I was beside another woman…you were on my mind. I’ve missed you.” He admits, gently turning you around so he can work on untying your bodice. He desperately wants to see you bare before him for the first time. “Te amo.” He murmurs, kissing your back as he makes quick work of your clothes.

“Te amo.” You moan softly, shivering despite the warm fire in the grate of the hearth. One the laces are loose, you feel him start to pull up your dress to remove it. Happy you had bathed quickly after he had left earlier, you know you are ready to spend your wedding night in your husband’s arms.

Pero kneels down to remove your shoes, placing them on the side and he stands up when the dress falls from your body to let his eyes drink in the sight of your form figure. “Fuck. Hermosa. Mi esposa.” He groans, leaning down to take a nipple into his mouth after he cups your breasts.

“Pero!” You cry out, knowing that you will never experience this again. Not like the first time. The exquisite feeling of his mouth suckling at your breast. “Oh god, husband, it’s so good.” You moan, tangling your fingers into his hair.

He loves your praise, sucking on your breast and biting down on your nipple. He’s determined to make this good for you. “Fuck, hermosa.” He hisses when you reach down to squeeze his cock but he doesn’t want you to touch him yet. This is all about you. He groans your name and switches over to your other tit, biting and sucking.

You whimper his name again and tug on his hair. Loving how he is making you feel bursts of pleasure as he toys with your breasts. “I want-“ you whine, not sure what you want. You just know you need him. The ache between your thighs grows stronger as every minute passes.

He knows what you want, what you need, and he’s going to give it to you. He lets go of your breast and grips your waist, guiding you backwards towards your bed until the back of your knees hit it. He lays you down and when you fall back, he kneels at the foot of the bed. “I want to see you.” He orders and caresses your calf, his thumb rubbing your skin until he’s spreading your legs to expose your cunt to his hungry gaze. “Bonita.” He gasps softly, shifting to lay on his stomach and he presses kisses along your inner thighs.

“Pero.” You whimper, having been told this type of pleasure is extremely rare, most men not wanting to put their mouths on a woman’s mound because of her monthly. Instinctively, your legs try to close, preventing him from doing anything he would regret.

He tuts and grabs your thighs, pushing them open again and he shakes his head at you. “I want to taste my wife’s cunt. Do not deny me.” He demands and leans in to slide his tongue through your folds with a groan when your slick hits his taste buds.

You cry out, squeezing your eyes closed in embarrassment and arousal. Unable to believe that the same tongue that had been in your month is now licking your cunt like he was trying to learn how you taste from the inside. Making you gasp as you wonder if he had done this to all the women he had been with while he was selling his sword.

He learned about oral pleasure from a whore he paid for the night. For some reason, he told her about his quest to return back to you and she taught him how to properly pleasure with his tongue, making him promise to do it to you upon his return. He recalls every move, sliding his tongue up to flick over your bundle of nerves and licking deep inside of you.

Gasping, your hips jerk up but your husband throws his arm over your hips to keep you pinned to the bed. Making you stay still so he can continue his delicious assault on your cunt, especially the little button that you rub when you touch yourself in the dark. It feels so much better when he flicks his tongue against it and you babble his name repeatedly with calls to God, unable to stop yourself from getting louder the more pleasure builds in your stomach.

Pero is aching, cock pressed against the bedding despite you touching him prior to the wedding. He’s waited fifteen years to have you and the need is steadily rising. He needs to stretch you out, prepare you, so he pushes two fingers inside of you slowly while he sucks on your clit with a groan.

You whimper, eyes closing and your fingers twist in the sheets of your bed. Feeling fuller than you ever could with the one finger you had slipped inside of you in shame as you imagined your Pero taking you. “Oh, oh Pero.” You whine, unconsciously rolling your hips down. “I don’t- what is happening?” This is more than anything you had ever managed to make yourself feel.

“You’re going to cum for me, hermosa.” He says, continuing to push his fingers deep and he watches you writhe with pleasure he’s giving you. “I want you to soak my fingers and then I’m going to take what’s mine. My beautiful esposa. Mi amor. It’s been too long. Cum for me.” He orders, resuming his licks over your clit while he curls his fingers deep inside of you.

It takes some time, the pressure abating before coming back and making your entire body lock up. Your cunt bottoms out around his fingers, sucking them in tight and washing them with a flood of your juices. Making you lurch up off the bed when you scream his name. “Perooooooo!”

He groans into your flesh, loving the way you clamp down on his digits, and he works you through your orgasm with small, kitten licks to your clit, and he scissors his fingers to try and stretch you out. He withdraws them after a few moments and shifts off of the bed to begin pulling his tunic off.

There is zero shame in your eyes as you watch your husband strip. You’ve seen him naked and are eager to feel his body against yours. Biting your lip as he shucks his breeches, you watch the heavy swaying of his hard cock. “That’s what it looks like when you’re standing?” Your eyes widen and you giggle slightly. “It looks painful.”

Pero chuckles at your wide eyes and he shakes his head, “it’s painful when it’s left too long. It aches. Like I have a deep need to be inside of you.” He explains, shifting to kneel on the bed, and he watches you as he grips his cock. “Do you wish to have me inside of you?” He asks, wanting you to be sure even though you are bound by marriage.

You moan, spreading your legs wider. “I’ve wanted you inside me since I was fifteen.” You promise him. “Please, take me. Claim your wife and show me how it feels to have my innocence taken by the man I love.” You beg, reaching for him.

Hearing you announce that you want him inside of you, has Pero twitching in anticipation of being inside of you. “Amor.” He murmurs, shifting closer and he caresses your thigh before he moves to his elbows so he can press his lips to yours. Shifting his weight, he grips his cock and positions it at your entrance, his eyes open and on your face as he starts to push inside of you.

It doesn’t hurt like you had imagined it. All the young brides talked about the pain that felt like they were being ripped apart. It’s different, you’ve never felt like this before, but it doesn’t hurt that bad. More of a dull ache as he pushes into the hilt. “Pero.” You moan, lifting a leg and wrapping it around his waist on instinct. “God, amor, you fill me up.” You pant quietly.

He slides his arms underneath you, pulling you closer as he is fully inside of you. Kissing along your jaw, he’s struggling to control himself after so many years of yearning, dreaming of this moment. “So good.” He murmurs, loving how wet and hot and tight you are. The fact that you’re the woman he loves makes it even sweeter. “Are you okay, amor?” He asks, wanting to check before he starts to move inside of you.

“Yes.” You whine softly, smiling even though your eyes are closed. “So good.” It feels perfect, like you are finally completed. When Pero pulls his hips back, you huff, wanting him to stay buried in you the entire time but you know he cannot. Not if you want to experience more pleasure. “Please, Pero.” You beg, opening your eyes and looking up at him hovering over you. “Make love to your wife.”

He can’t deny you anymore, he has to move. Slowly rocking his hips, he pushes inside of you again and withdraws. Slow, unhurried thrusts that have him pushing deep and your moans make his stomach clench. There were times that he didn’t think he’d get to have this, that he wouldn’t return to you, that you wouldn’t have waited for him. It’s intoxicating to know that you sacrificed so much time to wait for his return, not even knowing if he would. “Te amo, amor. Te amo.” He groans, kissing along your neck to your lips.

You don’t know when the tears start, but they slide down your temples as he works himself in and out of your body. Joyous tears because you are finally experiencing Pero’s touch. As your husband. There had been times where you wondered if he had died, that he was never coming home to you. But now he is here, putting down his sword and you can spend the rest of your lives together.

Pero frowns when he sees your tears, “are you okay, amor? Am I hurting you?” He asks, caressing your cheek to wipe away your tears and when you shake your head, he’s relieved.

“I am so happy you’re here.” You admit and he smiles, stopping his movement inside of you so he can bring your gaze to his.

“Me too. I thought of you every damn day I was away from your side. I dreamed of you, of being with you. I would’ve crawled back on my knees to be with you.” He vows, kissing your cheek when another tear falls.

You don’t think that it could be any more perfect, Pero takes his time and slowly builds up a rhythm that takes your breath away and makes you hold him tight. “I- I feel- it’s so good.” You babble quietly. “More- I just- I need-“ you aren’t sure what you need but you know he will take care of you, like he always had before he left.

He knows what you need. He rocks into you a little faster, groaning your name and he lifts your leg up onto his hip so he can sink deeper inside of you. “Amor. So - so - perfecta.” He murmurs, shifting his weight so he can rub your clit. It’s been too long since he was inside of a woman and he can feel his balls pulling up. He wants you to cum first.

“Pero!” The pressure against your clit is perfect, giving you exactly what you need to fall over the edge. Your body shakes and your hoarse cry fills the room as your walls clench down around him.

The way you clench down around his cock and soak him has him gritting his teeth to control himself. He knows he should cum inside of you, fulfill your father’s request, but he can’t betray you like that. He pumps inside of you three more times until he’s pulling out, gripping his cock and jerking himself before his hot seed paints your belly.

“Oh….oh god.” You pant, watching him fall apart is the sexiest thing you’ve ever seen. “That’s so good. So good.” You give a happy little giggle. “Can we do that again?”

Pero chuckles breathlessly, chest heaving as he looks down at you covered in his seed. “You’ll have to wait, amor. I’m not a young man anymore. I - it takes time for my cock to harden again but we have all night. I want you to be worn out with pleasure come sunrise.” He promises, reaching for his tunic to clean his cum off of you before he lays down beside you, pulling you into his arms. “Sleep and I’ll wake you up once I’m ready for you.”

****

“Oh Pero.” You moan softly, eyes closed and fingers tangled into his hair. It’s been a month since he has returned to you and your world is nothing but complete bliss. Tangled up in his arms every morning and night, you have gotten to know how good love making is. Even if you don’t know what it feels like to have your husband finish inside you, always pulling out to spend his seed on your belly due to your wishes. Now his tongue flutters over your cunt before the cock even crows outside. “Make me cum before I must start breakfast.” You beg breathlessly.

He smiles against your folds, loving how eager you are for him. Not a day goes by without you wanting him to give you pleasure. He has been working on building a cottage for you, a wedding gift he keeps secret when he leaves the home to go tend to the land with your father. Your father has been boarding in the nearly complete cottage to afford you privacy as a newly married couple but Pero can feel the pressure from your father to breed you. Especially when you announced your monthly bleed, Pero felt the weight growing heavier. “Amor. I want you to cum on my tongue.” He demands, sliding his tongue inside of you and curling it deep, his nose pressed against your clit.

It’s so easy to give in, especially when he orders you to in that sexy, gruff manner of his. His voice is even more gravelly with sleep. His tongue flicks and you fall over the edge, legs shamelessly draped over his shoulders and your hips lifting to push his tongue even deeper into your gushing cunt.

When you clamp down on his tongue, he groans and works you through your orgasm, loving how you whine his name into the dawn. “Fuck.” You curse and Pero grins, kissing your thighs as your chest heaves.

“I have a surprise for you today, amor.” He murmurs, his dark eyes focusing on you.

“What?” You grin as you imagine some new position or trick in bed. It has been an experience learning everything Pero knows from the brothels he had spent time in. He had told you about some of it, not wanting to hide it from you and while you wish he had never had to seek out pleasure elsewhere, you are grateful to the women who had taught him about pleasure. “Do I have to get dressed?”

Pero nods, shifting to lay down beside you. “Yes. You have to get dressed. It’s outside.” He strokes your arm, taking your hand in his and kissing the back of it until he presses his lips on the gold band on your finger. “Get dressed. Put your shoes on.” He demands and shuffles off of the bed so he can get dressed and wash up quickly.

It must be exciting if Pero isn’t going to fuck you. Sliding out of the bed, you grab the shift that you had stopped wearing altogether. Every night when you tried to put it on, Pero would just strip you out of it. It was easier, and cooler, to just sleep naked. Washing up quickly, you dress and smile when he is done. “Do you want to have breakfast or wait until after your surprise?”

"Let's take it with us." He says, knowing you can gather some bread and cheese and jams to take on your journey. You nod and work fast to put together a basket. Once you're ready, you walk hand in hand, Pero guiding you through the woods to the cottage he has lovingly built for you. Your father is there, smiling at you and he is proud of the work Pero has put in.

“Pero-“ the scent of fresh wood shavings and the plaster between the stones fills the small clearing. The new cottage is shining like a diamond and you gasp when you see glass in the windows. “You- you built this?” You demand, unable to believe it, although you know these woods and it was not here the last time you were out here. “This is for us? We are not living with father?”

Pero nods, squeezing your hand. "I still need to finish making some pieces of furniture but I thought you would like to see our home. Your father deserves his privacy and this way, he's close but not too close." Pero tells you and your father nods, "plus I would still like to be close to see my grandchildren."

You swallow harshly, panicked at the thought and shake your head. “No- grandchildren? No, I’m sorry, we aren’t having-“ you let go of Pero’s hand, your breathing suddenly shakes and your heart pounds. “No children. I won’t be like them.”

Your father glares at Pero who avoids his gaze and wraps his arm around you. “Amor. Let me show you the inside.” He guides you over to the door, opening it to show you the interior of the cottage he lovingly built, avoiding the glare of your father.

“I can’t, Pero I can’t have children.” You panic, shaking your head as you look at him frantically. “I can’t, I - I can’t.” You beg him to understand as you turn towards him in the little living space of the cottage. “I thought you understood, that you accepted that.” Tears start falling down your cheeks.

Pero looks over at your father who is standing at the door, “can we have a moment?” Your father nods and leaves the cottage, shutting the door behind him. “Amor. I- I have never asked you for a child. I wouldn’t - I know you did not wish to have children and I will honor that wish. Your father…he has his own idea of our future. Let’s indulge him and know that between us, the decision has been made.” He grips your arms, a little frantic at the way you are panicking.

It takes a few moments for you to calm down, sucking in heavy breaths. Watching his eyes and finding comfort in the assurance you find in their dark depths. “I- yes.” You nod finally. “We will say we will try for a child,” you murmur softly, stepping closer and curling up against his chest. “We- I just don’t want to - Pero, it’s so terrifying.” You sob. “My friend, Awone, she passed in childbirth two years ago. It was slow. She lingered in pain for two days. Her and the babe died.”

Pero pulls you close, seeing how traumatized you are. “Mi amor. I would never force you. If you do not wish to have a baby, then we won’t have children. I would never require It of you. I married you. Only you. Not for a child.” He caresses your back while you sob, the guilt weighing heavily on him.

It takes a few minutes, but you eventually calm down, sighing softly and pulling away from him. “Thank you, amor.” You lean in and kiss his cheek. “If- if you ever found out that you had sired a bastard and needed to raise the child, I wouldn’t have any issue.” You promise him.

He shakes his head, knowing that he was so careful for so many years to not breed a bastard, wanting to dedicate himself wholly to you. “We shall spend our lives together.” He vows, kissing your forehead. “Set up the breakfast, mi amor. I need to speak with your father.” He murmurs, stepping out of the cottage to find your father pacing.

“She is still not with child.” He hisses, “and now I hear that she does not want one at all. You have failed, Tovar. If she bleeds again, I shall have your head.” He promises.

Pero growls, “can you not see she is terrified? How could I force her? She will be devastated. She is terrified of ending up like her mother. The mother she never met.” Pero growls, annoyed that your father would be so selfish.

“Women have been birthing babies since Adam and Eve.” Your father huffs, shaking his head. “It’s nothing more than childish fears. My blood will work this land.” He vows, narrowing his eyes as his son by marriage. “If you will not do what is necessary to see it so, I will find a man who will.” He promises. “Your precious wife will bear children who are not yours from her womb and raise them in the cottage you built.

Pero knows your father is not messing around and he thinks of himself as capable to defend himself until your father says “there are many men in the village who would wed even an old maid like her to ensure they inherit this land. Do not waste another moment. She must be with child as soon as possible…otherwise I’ll have you killed.” Your father promises and Pero knows he isn’t just threatening, the unhinged look in his eyes makes him certain that he will follow through. Pero is a gifted fighter but against a village of men? He’d be killed in seconds and leaving you to an unknown fate. He cannot allow that.

“Very well. It will be done.” He vows and your father nods, “I’ll leave you be. Do not disappoint me, boy.” He orders and stomps off to his own cottage - the one he has vacated during your early months of marriage.

“Amor.” Pero sighs as he walks back into the cottage to find you waiting for him.

You frown and look past him to see if your father is coming in. “Is he not hungry?” You ask and Pero just shakes his head, “no, he wanted to go back to his cottage and let us enjoy this time together.” You nod, knowing that your father will be irritable later on so you will plan a hearty meal for dinner. “I love that you have built this for us.” You grin and spin around the large space. “There is even a bedroom for us and another if your friend William comes to visit.”

Pero smiles, although it’s a little tight. He listens to you ramble about what you want to add to the cottage but all he can think about is your father’s threat. “Amor.” He reaches for the piece of bread you have in your hand and he tosses it aside, reaching up to cup your cheek so he can press his lips to yours. “Hermosa, I want to have you in our new home.”

“That is why you did not slide into me earlier.” You giggle happily as you pull away from him and move over to the door to set the bar. Despite knowing your father was going back to the main house, you wanted to ensure privacy for you and Pero in your new home. “Fuck me.” You challenge him with a smirk. “Work up an appetite filling me with your cock and then we will eat.”

He’s nervous but eager to have you in the home he has poured his blood, sweat, and tears into. He groans and pulls you into his arms, pressing his lips to yours and he’s immediately sliding his tongue between your lips. He’s half hard from tasting you earlier and he desperately wants you to cum again before he does what he’s certain God will punish him for.

Your response to your husband is just like it always is, immediate. Relaxing against him and reaching for the laces of his breeches. He had taught you that there is no shame in wanting him, always eager for you to touch him and you waste no time now. “Pull out to spill your seed.” You caution him again, still shaken from the idea of having children before. It is not necessary because you know Pero will honor your wishes.

Pero nods, not wanting to say anything else. This is your future on the line. His life is on the line. He lets you push his breeches down to expose his hard cock and he pulls his tunic over his head. He reaches for your dress, pulling it over your head to expose your body. “Hermosa.” He groans, pulling you up against his body.

“Te amo, I love you.” You murmur, wanting to show him how grateful you are that he has come home to you, providing you with the life that you have always dreamed of. “Do you wish for me to suck your cock?” You ask, pressing kissing along a scar on his shoulder. He had told you that a sword had nearly taken his head but he had managed to deflect it with his ax so it had just sliced along the length of his shoulder.

Pero shakes his head, not wanting you to pleasure him with your mouth. He gently lays you down on the blanket you had brought and he shifts to kneel between your thighs, “are you ready for me, amor?” He asks and leans in to kiss along your neck.

“Always.” You promise him, closing your eyes and moaning softly when his teeth nip your skin. Your hands roam over his warm back and you shift to drape your legs over his hips. “Make love to me, husband.” You beg, always loving how you get to call him that now.

He grips his cock, pushing inside of you, and he presses his lips to yours. “Te amo.” He murmurs against your mouth, letting you adjust to his cock before he starts to move inside of you.

Pero always makes you feel good but today it’s like he’s driven by some need to overwhelm you. His hips slap against yours and his thumb circles your clit as soon as he had built up a rhythm that took your breath away and makes your back arch every time he hits deep inside you.

He tries to lose himself inside of you, to not think about how he’s about to betray you, so he pushes deep and tries to make you cum before he does. “Hermosa, esposa, cum for me.” He begs, shifting closer to you and he pushes your leg further back with his shoulder so he can get deeper inside of you.

You’ve already cum twice, moaning as he pushes you towards another release. “Greedy.” You gasp out, grinning at him as your body starts to feel overwhelmed at all the pleasure and attention you are getting. Another few harsh thrusts and you are careening over the edge, crying out his name as your entire world explodes in pleasure.

Pero grits his teeth, working you through your orgasm and he knows he should pull out, you even remind him. “Amor. You have to - pull out. You need to pull out.” You say and he shakes his head, continuing to push inside of you as his balls pull tight.

“I can’t.” He gasps and you shift beneath him, “you have to. Please. Pull out.” You beg and he shakes his head. You shriek, pushing on his chest, trying to get him off of you, but all he sees is you married to another from the village and he grabs your wrists, pinning you down with his body.

“I have to.” He growls, thrusting two more times before he buries his cock and paints your walls with his hot seed.

Screaming, you thrash under him, hot, frantic tears pouring down your cheeks while you feel the wet stickiness of his seed fill you. “You bastard! You bastard!” One of your hands manages to wiggle free and you start to hit him, crying and screaming in horror as he grunts, still working his seed into your womb with a fierce scowl on his face, an expression you’ve never seen directed towards you.

Pero slumps over you, your hits to his chest not enough for what he deserves. He deserves to burn in hell for violating your trust like that. He knows you’ll never look at him the same way but he couldn’t let you go, he can’t give up what he fought so hard for. Not for something silly like spilling his seed inside of you. Your tears, each one is a knife to the heart, and he fumbles off of you, shifting to stand and you sob on the floor, pushing your fingers inside of you to try and get his cum out like the damage isn’t done. “Amor. I- I'm sorry. I had to.” He chokes out, knowing you won’t understand.

“Had to?” You shriek, panicking and trying to push the cum out of your cunt but all you are doing is getting it all over your fingers. “You know how - you bastard!” You start sobbing, crying so hard that you can’t breath as you kneel down on the blanket to grab your shift and start wiping at the cum dribbling out of your sex. “I-I, y-you p-p-promised m-me!” You stutter, gagging and starting to dry heave when you think about his seed taking root and you carrying a baby. A baby that makes you scream and cry and wear yourself out pushing them into the world only to bleed to death. Struggling to your feet, you rush over to a bucket and start to vomit in it.

Pero feels ill himself at your reaction, knowing that he has violated your body and your trust. He hates himself for it. He never wanted you to look at him with hate. “Hermosa. I- your father said he would kill me if I didn’t - he required a child - children. If I didn’t fulfill that, he was going to have me killed. You’d be married the next day to a villager who would violate you until his seed took. I- I couldn’t risk- I’ve waited so long for you. Mierda. Amor, please, forgive me. I did this to save us.” He kneels down beside you, eyes wide as he watches you dry heave.

What little is in your stomach ends up in the bucket, although you continue to heave until your stomach aches and you feel weak. “Fuck you.” You hiss, turning and glaring at him with bloodshot eyes, hating how he has betrayed you. Hating him for filling you with his seed. Hating that your father had made the man you love do such a horrible thing to you to survive. Pero reaches out and you jerk away from him. “Do not touch me!” You scream. “Do not touch me ever again!”

Pero lowers his hand, his heart breaking at the way you're looking at him with utter detest. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry." He chokes, "lo siento, amor." He stumbles as he shifts away from you. "Amor. Forgive me. Please." He begs, sinking to his knees, eyes wide and shining with unshed tears. The guilt threatens to overwhelm him.

Grabbing your clothes, you start to redress, feeling betrayed and horrified by the fact that he had spent his seed inside you. Flinging open the door, you rush outside, running towards the river to bath and hopefully prevent his seed from taking root.

****

It's been four months since he spilled his seed inside of you. The day you found out you were with child, Pero was certain you were going to throw yourself off of a cliff. You were devastated, praying for your bleed and Pero wanted to hold you as you screamed in agony. He has slept on the floor since that fateful day, knowing that he needs to stay close to you as your husband despite you hating him. You barely talk to him, not unless it's necessary, and you've retreated into a shell of yourself.

The bump under your dress makes you nauseous, drains your energy and there are days you don’t even want to leave your bed. You can’t look at Pero, angry with him for planting his seed inside you and taking the anger you deal him with nothing but acceptance. Rolling over, you see him asleep next to the bed you had meant to share with him in the house he had built for you. Groaning as you struggle out of the bed to rush over to the chamber pot again, the child making you sick once more.

Pero wakes when he hears you vomiting again. The guilt he feels makes him want to find the nearest enemy to kill him but he can’t do that. He vowed to look after you, he vowed to be there for you. He cannot abandon you even if you haven’t said a word to him for days. He gets up, walking over to you and he wants to rub your back, ensure your hair isn’t getting in the way. “I’m so sorry, hermosa.” He murmurs, having long lost count of the amount of times he has apologized to you.

“Leave me.” You groan, wiping your mouth and looking up at him. Tears in your eyes from being sick and from the fear. Every day you worry about what this will do to you. Unable to shake the feeling that you are going to die screaming and not even hear your child’s cry of life. “Go spread your seed somewhere else, since you have no place in my bed.” You struggle to your feet and turn away from him. “I wish you had never come back.”

Pero stumbles back from you, your words like a knife to his heart, and even though he knows he deserves them, it kills him inside. “As you wish.” He murmurs, hurrying to get dressed so he can leave you be. He’s terrified of losing everything and he wants to kill your father for causing your unhappiness. Pulling his boots on, he leaves and stalks into the woods, no path in mind, and he’s hoping someone will put him out of his misery, self induced as it is.

****

You shouldn’t have said those words to Pero so many months ago. The silent pall over your cottage has continued. He remains, silent and helpful in any way he can but still, you cry yourself to sleep every night. Sobbing into your pillow as your time draws closer. Now you’re screaming, panicking as the pains have started and you know you’re going to die.

Pero watches you, his nails digging into his palm and he struggles with his need to comfort you and the knowledge that you want nothing to do with him right now. He sighs and shakes his head, “we need to call for a midwife.” He says, knowing you will need help with your pains as you prepare to give birth.

“No!” You cry out, eyes widening in horror. “Don’t leave me, please, please don’t leave me here alone!” You have been having dreams of dying alone while trying to birth the child and it could be a reality if he leaves. Lord knows you have done everything to push him away and he would be right to leave you. “Please Pero.” Tears stream down your face and you reach for him, laying in the bed where you will either give him a child or die trying.

He shifts to kneel on the bed, pulling you into his arms as much as he can now that you are begging him to stay. “Amor. I have to go. I have to get help. I cannot deliver the babe alone. You need a midwife. I promise you, I will return as soon as I can. I will not leave you from that moment onwards, I’ll be by your side as long as you’ll have me. Amor, I beg of you. Let me get help.” He pleads, cupping your cheeks so he can look into your eyes.

Your chin trembles and you are gasping for breath as the pain eases slightly. “Go.” You choke out, reaching up and covering his hands with your own. “Hurry, Pero. Something is wrong. I feel it.” Your panic is in your eyes and you search his face.

He nods, scrambling to pull his boots on so he can ride into the village to fetch the midwife, his heart pounding. He is terrified but he knows you have to have this child. He gets the midwife and rides back to the cottage, bursting in the door to find you on the bed screaming. “Amor. I'm back. She’s here. It’s going to be okay.” He vows, shifting to sit beside you and he pulls you back into his chest, wiping your sweaty forehead.

“Pero!” You are already exhausted, feeling yourself get weaker every time the pains rush over you. The blood has already started to leak from between your legs and yet the baby is not coming. “I’m scared.” You cry, grabbing onto his tunic and screaming against his bicep as another pain rips through you.

He turns to the midwife, “do something! She is bleeding!” He begs and the midwife rushes over to inspect you.

“You need to push for me, dear.” She orders, knowing you are in danger and she needs to get the baby out of you before she can ensure your safety.

“Push, amor.” Pero orders, letting you squeeze his hand.

“I-I’m trying!” You grit out between your teeth, bearing down as hard as you can as an inhuman cry comes out. Panting and slumping back against the sheet. “I can’t- Pero, it hurts so bad. I can’t.” You whimper, knowing that something is wrong and there is nothing you can do.

“You can. You can do this, hermosa. You’re so strong. I know you can do this. Just push for me. I love you, I love you so much. I will be here. Every second until the day I die for you and our child. Just push.” He pleads, kissing your sweaty forehead.

You try, again and again, to push with nothing happening, the hours ticking by and you’re so tired you can’t even be panicked anymore. Seeing the frantic way Pero clings to you, urging you on, you squeeze his hand limply. “I- it’s not as bad as I thought.” Your voice has gotten quieter over the hours, unable to scream anymore and you are drenched in sweat. “Dying.” You close your eyes and sniffle before you look at the midwife. “Cut the babe out.” You order her weakly. “Save one of us.”

Pero shakes his head, “no. No. This isn’t - Amor. You can do this. Is there nothing - you must save her!” He shouts at the midwife who is exhausted herself.

“I’m sorry. She - the only way is the cut her open.”

Pero shakes his head, tears stinging in his eyes. “No. No. I won’t allow it. You will continue pushing. Amor, please. Do not do this. You can survive. The babe will survive. I cannot live without you.” He chokes, pressing his forehead against yours.

“It is fate, amor.” You whisper quietly. “At least I will get to meet my mother.” Tears slip down your cheeks and you reach up to take his hand. “Hold me down so I do not hurt the babe from the pain.” You request, accepting your fate and trying to do what you need to for the child you had resented the entire time you carried them. The least you could do is make sure they lived.

“No. No. Mierda. No! You cannot do this. Please. I can’t lose you.” Pero sobs, burying his face in your neck and the midwife prepares her tools to cut you open. “Please, amor. I cannot be without you.” He sobs, holding you impossibly tight.

“It will be fine, amor.” You whisper. “I am sorry I was so angry with you. I wasted so much time.” Now that you are staring death in the face, you are calmer. Closing your eyes, you sigh softly. “I love you. Marry again. Give our child a good life.”

Pero shakes his head, hot tears falling but he knows how close to death you are. He’s seen it far too many times. He chokes and presses his forehead against yours, knowing that he will have to accept this fate. The fate he brought into reality.

The midwife looks at him and he inhales shakily, nodding. When she grips the knife to make the cut, Pero strokes your hair. “The first time we met, I thought you were so annoying. Some silly girl following me around on my way to the barn but you started to ramble on about your father’s farm and how he does this or does that. I- I knew then that you were meant to be mine. That I was yours. Growing together, I wish I could go back and be with you, not wasted fifteen years away from you. I love you, mi esposa. It’s always been you.”

The scream at the first cut sounds like a wounded animal. Hoarse and probably the loudest you’ve been in hours. Agony rips through your stomach as Pero clings to you. “Perooooooooo!” You sob out, crying for your husband, for your fate, for the baby that was fighting to live. Gasping for air and screeching as another cut is made, you fall silent, eyes rolling back as you pass out from the pain.

Pero holds you down, tears streaming down his cheeks until you go limp and he hears the child cry. “No! No! No!” He screams, willing you to come back to him.

“Amor! Amor!” He cries and sits up straight as his chest heaves.

“Pero. It’s okay!” You promise, cupping his cheek as you lean over the bed to your husband who is sleeping on the floor.

He scrambles to reach for your hand, gripping it like it’s a life line. “Amor. You- you’re okay.” He pants, dark eyes wide as he looks at you looking above him like an angel.

His eyes are haunted and you wonder what has tears streaming down his face like he had just had his entire world crumble. Did he have the same terrifying dreams you do? It’s been so long since Pero had touched you, by your own wishes, but you can’t push him away when he is climbing up into the bed and pulling you into his arms. “You are - oh God, amor.” Pero sighs and you gasp in pain again. The same pains that had awoken you an hour before Pero had started screaming.

“Pero-“ you grunt, digging your nails into your husband’s arms. “The babe- it’s coming.”

“No. No. It can’t be.” He chokes, curling around you, pulling you close. “I can’t - it’s not time. Please. I can’t lose you, amor.” He chokes, burying his face in your neck. His vivid dream keeps replaying over and over and he can’t take it.

“Pero.” You whimper, the pain ebbing and you can finally take a breath again. “The midwife. I need the midwife here.” You beg, scared but you know you would be even more terrified if there was only Pero here for the birth. “Please, Pero, it hurts.”

He is terrified to let go of you in case you somehow disappear but he knows he must seek help. He kisses your forehead and quickly dresses, making his way out to the stable to saddle his horse. His hands shake as he mounts his stead and makes his way to the village to get the midwife. His heart pounds when he brings her back to the cottage, terrified that you’ve somehow disappeared.

You are out of the bed, pacing the floor of the cottage as the pains come, making you grab onto the bed post for support. Groaning in relief when the sounds of Pero and the midwife can be heard outside. “It’s okay.” You promise yourself, whimpering when you feel another pain start. “Ahhhhhhh!”

Pero is immediately by your side, helping you stand and the midwife is telling you to get on the bed, asking how long you’ve been having these pains for. “Amor.” Pero tuts when you reveal it’s been at least the eve and the night. “You should’ve told me.” He sighs and rubs your back as you settle on the bed.

“We-we weren’t talking.” You hiss, wincing in pain and sighing when the pain fades for a few moments. It’s your fault you’ve frozen him out, but you didn’t know how to breach the gap between you. Sure that he was only staying now for the child he had planted in your belly.

Pero shakes his head, "you might not have wanted to speak to me as your lover but you should've talked to me as your friend, your childhood friend who still wants the best for you." He tuts and the midwife checks you over.

"Not long. You will be needing to push soon." The words make Pero choke and he remembers his vivid dream.

"I am so sorry, amor. I know you did not want this but - but I am a bastard. I pursued your father's wish at the dismissal of yours and I - I am a monster for that." He murmurs, hating himself a little more.

You are still upset at him but it’s not as visceral as it had been in the beginning. “It is no matter now, it is done and the babe is coming.” You choke out, clinging to him. You are still scared but what happens will be in God’s hands now. “Stay with me.” You beg quietly.

"Always." Pero promises, squeezing your hand and the midwife gathers what she needs for the babe, boiling some water, and soon enough, it's time for you to push. Pero is almost shaking, terrified of losing you like he did in his dream. He has faced armies of men, of mythical beasts, but to face losing you is almost too much to bear.

There isn’t as much screaming as you thought there would be. The pain is incredible, but mostly it steals your breath and voice. Pero holding you close and allowing you to crush his hand when the pain is too intense and you do cry out, bathing the sweat from your face. For the first time since he had spilled his seed inside you, you aren’t worried about the baby coming.

Pero silently prays to God that you and the babe are okay. Despite your hatred of him getting you pregnant, he has allowed himself brief moments to imagine you as a mother and he knows you would be incredible. The fear of dying during childbirth preventing you from dreaming of a family. He lets you curse him while the midwife guides you through the pushes and breathing until a wail fills the air.

“Oh my god.” You gasp, hearing your baby’s cry for the first time and tears spill down your cheeks. Overwhelmed by the emotions and the relief that you’ve managed to give birth. You struggle to sit up, looking down at where the midwife is wrapping your baby up. “I- we have a child.” You look up at Pero and you can’t help but give a small laugh. “We have a child.”

Pero takes the babe from the woman’s arms, cradling the child and he hands them over to you, letting you see the babe you’ve carried in your body for 9 months. “Hermosa.” Pero chokes, kissing your forehead as the baby cries in your arms, angry at being forced into the world.

“Oh my god.” You can’t help but light up at the sight of the angry little baby. Howling and shaking it’s fist at the world. “I know, I know, baby.” Uncovering the child, you gasp. “A little boy.” You murmur in wonder, looking up at Pero. “You have a son.” You choke out, reaching for his hand as you stare back down at the child.

“Put him to your breast.” The midwife orders, still working between your thighs. She needs to deliver the birthing sack and starts to push on your stomach, but you are too busy admiring your son to care. “Like your husband sucked on them.”

Pero flusters at her words but is soon in awe of your son taking root on your breast, sucking, and he leans in to rest his head against yours. His hand looks huge compared to the babe and he murmurs “thank you” over and over again. To you or to God, Pero hasn’t decided that yet. He’s just so thankful that you are okay. “Amor. He’s perfect. You did it. My brave, beautiful esposa.” He murmurs, kissing your hair.

“I- I’m sorry.” You whisper quietly, exhausted and ready to stop fighting with your husband. You have missed him beside you in bed and shift towards his body as you let your son suckle. “I- am glad you are here and that our son is here.” You choke out softly.

He leans in to softly kiss you, “I’m sorry for - for everything. I love you. I’ve missed you.” He admits and nudges his nose against yours. His hand caressing the dark locks of his son. The midwife announces you need to push and you do, wincing and grunting as you push out the afterbirth. “You are incredible.” Pero murmurs, kissing your forehead.

Once the afterbirth is expelled, you lean back, the baby asleep at your breast as you pant. “That was exhausting.” You admit sleepily. “I haven’t slept well without you beside me.” You roll your head over to look at Pero. “Will you come back to our bed?”

Pero nods, “of course, amor. As you wish.” He shifts to lay down beside you. “Sleep. I will take care of everything else.” He promises and kisses you softly. He knows you hated him for getting you pregnant but he is so happy at this moment. To have his family in his arms.

****

“Pero, when are you coming to bed?” You call out to your husband. Thirty years later and you are tired, body aching. After two more children, you and Pero have lived a full and happy life together.

“I’m coming, amor.” He promises, grunting as he hobbles into the bedroom, his back aching and he groans as he sits on the edge of the bed. “I was trying to fix something.” He tells you, knowing you’ve wondered why he’s been out in the barn all day.

“What took all day?” You huff, looking at him and he smiles, telling you to hold out your hand and close your eyes. You follow his order and he smiles as he slides the gold hand he put on your finger all those years ago. You had grown thinner in your old age, the ring slipping off, and Pero had wanted to fix it for you.

“Thank you amor.” You whisper, smiling at him and slowly moving forward to press a soft kiss to his chapped lips. “I love you.” You promise him. “I will always love you.” Both of you are tired, bones ache, children grown and it won’t be long until you leave this earth. Your only hope is that you go together. “Lay down, husband.” You order, wanting to feel him next to you. Since the day your first son was born, there hasn't been a night where you’ve slept apart since.

Pero grunts as he lays down, curling his body around you and pulling you close. He kisses your neck and closes his eyes, “te amo, mi esposa. Buenas noches.” He murmurs, breathing you in, and he closes his eyes.

“I love you.” You exhale, snuggling against him and you close your eyes. The next morning, your eldest son finds his parents holding each other close, both had passed during their sleep. A testament to their love that lasted a lifetime. The story of Tovar and his esposa is passed down through the generations, a love story that echoes through the years.

#pedro pascal #pero tovar #pero tovar x reader #pero tovar x you #pero tovar x f!reader #pero tovar smut #pero tovar fanfiction #pero tovar imagine #pero tovar the great wall #tw noncon #dead dove do not eat #dddne

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