#pero tovar is grumpy

[something-tofightfor]

A Wonderful, Awful Idea / 2

Pairing: Pero Tovar x Female Reader (Modern AU)

Word Count: 9,299

Summary: The first event's over, and Pero still wants to spend time with you - that's good, right?

Surprisingly, it's him that takes initiative to tell you a little more about himself - and what he wants.

But during the second event, it's you that can't keep your mouth shut, even though you know it's probably best to do so.

Rating: M: language.

Author's Note:

My last writing post of 2024, and it's Pero Tovar. I never would have guessed this would be the case even a few weeks ago.

Thank you so much for your interest in the first part, and in this story in general. I've loved seeing your comments and reading your responses to it. It's been a lot of fun to write, and I've desperately needed the distraction, so it's helped.

Part 3 is well underway, so look for it early in the new year.

The title comes from Dr. Seuss' How the Grinch Stole Christmas.

Thank you for reading!

*dividers by @/strangergraphics

Part 1

The four of you chose a diner a few minutes from the venue, and that time, Lin slid onto the bench next to her husband, forcing you and Pero to sit beside each other. 

You knew exactly what she was doing, and while part of you appreciated her pushing the two of you to remain close, you were also worried that it was too much, too fast for Pero. We’ll see. 

After you’d placed your orders, the conversation turned back to the event you’d just left, and the men’s impressions of the client - including that she’d taken a liking to Pero. You stayed quiet for that, listening to the two of them talk, and you had to admit that the way they approached discussing work impressed you. 

They were clinical in their assessment of her and her team, and you weren’t surprised to hear that they were pleased with the lengths she’d gone to to ensure her safety. “She had a stalker last year,” William informed you as he took a bite of one of the appetizers that had been delivered. “Her team upped protection then. They caught him, but who knows if there’s anyone else just waiting.” 

“I wouldn’t know how to deal with that.” You reached for your water cup, taking a drink before you continued. “Especially if I had to do as much as she does around strangers? Yuck.” 

“You wouldn’t have to look far for protection, though.” Lin winked at you, gesturing at Pero and William. “Two built in bodyguards right here at this table.” 

“I couldn’t afford these two.” You laughed, looking over at Pero and catching his eye. “Hell, I probably couldn’t even swing the budget for one of them, so -”

“You think we would charge you?” Pero narrowed his eyes and shook his head. “No. Never.” You watched as his expression changed - eyes darkening, the set of his lips turning into a smirk. “That would be a job I took because I wanted to.” 

That stunned you; you’d gone from him speaking ten words to you over the course of your association to him offering to protect you if necessary - for nothing. He wasn’t lying when he said he was interested. But him saying this in front Lin and William is … “Luckily for all of us, I’m never going to be in that position. But it’s good to know I’ve got somewhere to turn.” 

“You could pay Tovar in food.” William took a large bite and then gestured at his friend with two fingers. “For just about anything, honestly.” 

“It is true.” Pero grinned, nodding his head. “We do not tell clients this, but…” He looked over at you, raising an eyebrow. “I would not turn it down.” 

You’d never seen him smile so broadly before, and the sight of it left you speechless. I want to see that more. It made him look younger; the smile showing off fully rounded cheeks and a deep dimple that you hadn’t known existed. But now I do. Now I’m going to dream about it. 

“Alright, I’ve got a triple jalapeño burger and seasoned fries for…” The moment was interrupted when your waitress came back, but you were almost thankful. You’d been staring at the man next to you, and even though you were certain Lin had filled William in on the situation between you and Pero, you didn’t want to make things awkward - for anyone.

As dishes were handed out, you focused on your food, taking a few deep breaths to steady yourself. It’s fine. It’s going to be fine. But a few seconds later, when Pero reached over and laid a hand on your knee, cautiously squeezing it, you weren’t so certain that that was the truth. 

As the four of you headed to the front counter to pay after the meal, you were wondering if you should ask to get a ride home from the Garins, since they had to drive past your house to get to theirs. It makes sense. “Would -”

“Oh, look. Mistletoe!” Lin pointed up, and the rest of you followed the motion, raising your gaze to the sprig of faux greenery hanging just above the cashier’s counter. Shit. “C’mere, William.” She giggled as she grabbed the lapels of his coat, tugging him closer for a brief kiss. You looked away and met Pero’s eyes, not surprised to see actual fear in them, but before you could say anything, Lin spoke again. “Your turn! It’s tradition.” 

“No.” Pero shook his head, stepping back. “I will not be following this tradition.” It hurt more than it should have, and you tried to keep the fact that his words hit you hard from showing by biting the inside of your cheek. You stepped back, too, looking away from Pero and at the front windows of the diner - but not before you saw him wince. 

“We’ll wait outside.” Lin stepped between the two of you, linking her arm through yours. “Come with me.” 

“I have to pay, I -” 

“No, you don’t.” She gestured to the two men. “One of them will get it.” William waved you off and you let her pull you through the glass doors and onto the sidewalk in front of the restaurant. Once the door shut behind her, she unwound her arm and then hugged you tightly. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t think he’d react like that, it was just a joke.” 

“It’s fine.” You mumbled the words, blinking back tears. “Things were going well, but I didn’t think … I didn’t expect him to want to kiss me, but him just saying no like that was a surprise.” It hadn’t even been the denial itself; it was Pero’s tone along with the look in his eyes that upset you the most. “It’ll be fine. We’ve only got two events left, and the next one will be so loud we won’t have to talk, I’ll just…” 

“Do you want us to take you home?” She backed away, giving you a sympathetic smile. “It’s on the way, and I feel like this is my fault, so -”

“Yes. Please. That would be a relief. And I’m sure he wants to go home right away.” You’d been looking forward to a few more minutes with Pero, and an opportunity to thank him for the night. But that’s changed now. “Lin, I -” 

The door opened then, William coming out first with a cheerful expression on his face and Pero behind him, the scowl back in place. Fuck. “Ready to go home, Lin Mae?” 

“We’re going to take -”

“I will take her home.” You looked back at Pero, watching as he steadied himself with a deep breath, his full attention on you. “Unless you do not want me to.” The fear in his eyes was gone, replaced with a weariness that you almost liked less. Oh, Pero. 

“You can take me home, Pero.” Pausing, you nodded. “Please.” 

The four of you separated in the parking lot, Lin hugging you and whispering that you needed to call her when you got a chance before she got into their car. 

It was silent between you and Pero while he busied himself with getting the heat and defroster going, but it wasn’t as uncomfortable a silence as you thought it would be. Say something. Speak up. “Is that how most of your jobs go?” You held your hands out, enjoying the way the warm air felt on your skin. “Where you leave as soon as it’s over? Or -”

“No.” He didn’t look at you when he spoke, concentrating on the rearview mirror as he backed up. “Usually we are the only security. This is a very different assignment than usual.” You looked over, watching as the light from another car’s headlights passed over his face. “This time, we will only step in if it is necessary.” He glanced over at you. “I hope it is not.” 

He didn’t say anything after that, and so you fell into silence too, staring out the window and at the decorated houses as you passed them. You wondered how the night would have ended without the mistletoe incident - if you and Pero would have hugged goodbye over the center console, or if he would have offered to walk you to the door. He held my hand multiple times tonight, so I don’t see why not. 

When he parked in your driveway, he didn’t turn the car off, but he did put both hands back onto the wheel, his fingers curled around it tightly. I guess that answers part of my question. “Thank you, Pero, for -”

“I did not want to kiss you under the mistletoe.” He stared straight ahead as he spoke, hands in place. “But that does not mean that … I do not want to kiss you.” Wait, what? Your mouth opened, but you didn’t speak. Instead you just stared at him in disbelief. “Please understand.” He turned his head toward you, Pero wetting his lips before he continued. “That should not be the first … it is not how I imagined kissing you for the first time, in front of Lin and William and the entire fucking diner staff in a room that smelled like old coffee and burned toast.”

That finally broke you out of your stupor, and you laughed, reaching up with both hands to cover your eyes. “Oh, Pero.” You kept laughing, the upset you’d felt since he’d said no disappearing and replaced with something that felt strangely like hope. He’s thought about kissing me. He wants to. “I do understand. I just thought …” Dropping your hands back onto your thighs, you exhaled. “I thought you didn’t want to at all.” 

“Of course I do.” He reached over, putting his hand on top of yours. “Even more now than yesterday.” Pero said your name, the sound of it barely loud enough for you to hear. “I am fucking this up. I -”

“You’re not.” You flipped your hand over, taking his. “Not at all. Fucking this up would have been not talking about it or lying to me about it. You just … it was a misunderstanding.” Tell him. Tell him the truth. “I want you to kiss me, Pero. That’s why I reacted the way I did. I’d rather it didn’t happen for the first time in public, too, but to tell you the truth, I wouldn’t have been mad if you’d done it in the diner.”

“I am not romantic. I’m not like William. I don’t … I don’t know how to be like him, saying sweet things or being nice to people all the time, or picking the right moment to -”

“Don’t do that.” Shaking your head, you lifted your joined hands, gesturing to them with your free one. “This is a good start. Earlier, when we were sitting and you casually touched me? That’s good, too. I’d tell you if it wasn’t, or if I didn’t like something you were doing.” You sighed. “It takes time to learn about someone, you’re not just going to know everything after one date.” 

“That is a good point.” He was still holding your hand, but he’d pulled them over to his side of the car, letting them rest against his thigh. “Maybe I should take your advice more.” 

“You should.” You squeezed his hand. “Definitely.” Under other circumstances, you would have invited him in, asking if he wanted to have a drink or sit and talk. But tonight’s been a lot already. “So the concert next week?” He agreed, humming as he nodded. “Are we just watching again?”

“We will be at the meet and greet.” He sighed. “And then during the show, we’re going to be in the crowd. So will Lin and William.” You groaned, head dropping. “Why is that your reaction?”

“I’m a fan of her acting. But the music is … not my thing.” Wrinkling your nose, you rolled your eyes as he smiled. “I’ll suck it up, though. It’s just one show.” 

“And you’ll be with me.” I sure will. Pero cleared his throat. “We have an assignment out of town for two days, so if you don’t hear from me until right before the concert, that is why.” You nodded, even as you felt disappointment growing in your chest. “Let me walk you to your door.” 

It meant the night was ending, but you figured it was for the best. You could only handle so much in one night, and figured Pero felt the same. “Sure, but it’s still cold out. You don’t have to.” 

“I want to.” He let go of your hand and turned the car off before he unbuckled his seatbelt. Pero followed you the short distance up your driveway, and you were surprised - and relieved - to feel his hand against your back the entire way.  When you reached for your keys, he stopped you, his hand moving from your back to your elbow. “Wait.” 

You turned your head to look at him, and watched as Pero shifted nervously from foot to foot. There’s something else. He’s too... “Pero, if this is out of line, please tell me, but …” You closed your eyes and tipped your head back, releasing your breath. “When’s the last time you dated someone? Like … gotten to know them, or… have you ever dated anyone before? ”

“I have gone on dates, yes.” He frowned, his head shaking back and forth. “But dating? Long term? Never. Not really. It is easier for me to know people for a short time, and …” He shrugged. “Setting expectations is important.” 

After the misunderstanding you’d had earlier, it was a risk to continue the conversation, but you knew that you only had one shot - and didn’t want to waste it. “Are … would you like to keep this short term? Are we going to hang out these three times and then just … go back to how it was? Or…” Crossing your arms protectively over your belly, you looked down and then back up at him through your lashes. “I assume when you say a short time you mean just for sex, and that’s alright, but I don’t … that isn’t all I’d want with you.” You paused, thinking. “Or at least right now, after one date, that isn’t…” 

You trailed off when he moved closer, his hands going to your arms and resting against your biceps. “It has already been hard enough for me to keep you at a distance since we first met. Why would I make things easy now?” That made you laugh, and before you realized what you were doing, you’d leaned in and wound your arms around Pero’s body, turning your head to press your cheek against him. Oh, shit. I shouldn’t have done that. 

It took a few seconds for him to respond, but Pero eventually put his arms around you, too, his touch comforting. You liked the way it felt to be held by him, and closed your eyes as you inhaled deeply, letting the scent of him fill you - cologne and clean sweat and the winter air, along with a lingering hint of the diner’s interior. 

He was breathing steadily, too, and for a few seconds, you focused on the way his chest rose and fell, one of Pero’s hands moving up and down your back, his skin whispering off of the thick material of your coat. 

It would have been the perfect moment to pull back slightly and tilt your head to kiss him, and if you hadn’t just had a conversation about it, you would have done it. He said he wants to kiss me. He knows I want to kiss him. It needs to be him that chooses. The last thing you wanted to do was spook Pero, and so you pulled away with some reluctance, a smile on your face when you met his eyes again.

Deciding to press your luck, you raised one hand and cupped his cheek with your palm. “Thank you for a good night, Pero Tovar.” He nodded, his eyes widening and his lips parting at your touch. “Please be safe while you’re out of town. You can call or text if you want, or -” 

You watched as his lower lip trembled, the look in his eyes going from surprised to steely as he stared at you. What’s that look for? “Fuck it.” 

He kissed you then, lips settling against yours and then pressing, his forward motion catching you by surprise. You didn’t pull back, though, instead keeping your hand in place on his cheek and using the other to pull him closer, fingers twisting into his coat. Your heartbeat raced, but before you could truly begin to enjoy the kiss, he broke it, sucking in a quiet breath as he pressed his forehead to yours. “Pero.”

“If you say my name like that again, I will have to kiss you again. And if I kiss you again, it would be hard to stop.”

“I’d be alright with that.” You huffed out a laugh, keeping your eyes closed. “I’m glad you did that. I’m glad you -”

“May I do it again?” You nodded instead of speaking, happy that he was going against his better judgement and letting his emotion win out. The second kiss was slower than the first - and gentler, too, Pero taking the time to slot his lips against yours, catching your lower one between them. Your hand slid back, moving from his skin and into his hair, the strands soft between your fingers.  

You couldn’t believe it was happening - that Pero was kissing you on your front porch, that his hands had moved from your arms to your hips, that he was letting you pull on his curls with one hand in the same moment that his lips parted enough that he could flick his tongue out between them and against yours. 

“Enough.” He backed away, though you felt his mouth move as he spoke. “Enough for tonight.” You understood the significance of him saying that - especially so soon after he’d admitted that typically his nights out with women ended in sex. “Go inside where it is warm.” He put more space between you, but didn’t let you go, and you left your hands where they were, too. “You’re welcome, but it should be me thanking you for tonight.” 

“We should do it again sometime.” You winked, heart still slamming against your ribs. “That sound good?”

“It does.” His smile widened, and Pero’s eyes dropped down to your lips again briefly. “And we should.” He removed his hands and stuck them in his pockets, taking another small step backward. “I will call you soon.” 

Agreeing, you turned away from him and reached for your keys again, pulling them from your bag and unlocking the door. He was still there when you stepped through it and turned around to say goodbye, and the sight of that was almost enough to push you back out the door and into his arms. No. It might freak him out. 

“Goodnight, Pero.” You bit your lip, one hand gripping the door frame.  “Drive safe.” 

You felt like you were a teenager again - not wanting to be the one to end the night or finish the conversation, but when Pero nodded and closed his eyes, murmuring that he would, you knew things were coming to an end. He gave you a final look and a nod before he turned his back to you, heading for the car. 

You stood in the doorway until you heard his car start and then finally closed it, stepping all the way into your house. His headlights flashed in the front window and you heard a single toot from his horn, and that’s what made you react. 

One hand rose to cover your mouth as your eyes widened, and when you backed up enough that you hit the wall, you actually squealed, your eyes squeezed shut. “He fucking kissed me.” You’d wanted it, but hadn’t expected it, especially after the back and forth between you throughout the night. But he did. Lowering your hands, you stepped away from the wall and took a deep, steadying breath. And I’m going to enjoy doing it again. 

You only heard from him a few times over the following few days, and the messages were short because he was busy. 

But Pero was the one that sent the first text, and that was another good sign. 

And even though you knew she expected to hear from you when it came to what had happened with you and Pero, you didn’t spill everything when you spoke to Lin. You didn’t think he would appreciate it, first of all, and you also didn’t want to talk up what had happened until you knew whether or not it was going to continue in a positive direction. I can’t set myself up for that disappointment. 

As the date of the concert got closer, you did let yourself focus on the night, and what you hoped would come from it. You tried to keep your expectations low, but the memory of Pero’s touch - and his kiss - and the way he’d smiled in the diner didn’t make it entirely possible. 

You spent a little more time on yourself when you got ready that night, putting on a new pair of boots with your jeans and adding an extra spritz of perfume before you put on your jacket. It would be dark for the majority of the time you were together, but you still wanted to look nice for the meet and greet portion - and for Pero to pick you up. 

It was silly, and you knew it, especially since he’d made his interest known. But in the time that you’d had to yourself since the fundraiser, you’d thought about what Pero had said - and what he hadn’t said. 

You had no way of knowing if your assumptions were correct, but you thought that he likely hadn’t had a lot of experience with people trying to impress him, or with wanting to be impressed by the women he dated. You wanted to be different. You wanted him to know that you were making an effort for him, and that it wasn’t because it was expected - it was because you wanted to. 

By the time he pulled into your driveway, you’d psyched yourself out. 

It was stupid, and you knew it; it was just Pero, just going to a concert so that he could work … but that didn’t matter. Get it together. 

It seemed that he’d taken your advice from the previous week and waited inside the car for you. When you slid in next to him, you were barely settled before he spoke, Pero’s voice even. “Hi. I am early, but -” 

“You’re right on time.” Smiling at him, you gave him a onceover and sucked in a breath at the sight of a bruise on his cheek, the skin there purpled and beginning to turn green at the edges. “What happened?” 

“Work.” He waved a hand in your direction. “Someone put up a fight but I handled it.” Cautiously, your hand moving as slowly as possible to give him a chance to ask you to stop, you let your fingers trail over the skin just beside his injury. “You do not need to worry about me.” 

“I know. But that doesn’t mean I won’t.” You bit the inside of your lip and sighed. “It looks like it hurt.” 

“You would…worry about me?” He sounded genuinely shocked, but you nodded again, replacing your fingertips with the pad of your thumb. “I think I like that.” 

“Good.” I’m going to kiss that bruise tonight. You made the promise to yourself as you withdrew your hand. “It’s nice to be able to dress down a little for this, hmm?”

“Yes but on Christmas Eve, we won’t be able to.” He wrinkled his nose and put the car into reverse. “Will that be a problem for you?” 

“Nope.” You leaned back in the seat and took a deep breath. “I already know what I’m wearing.” That made him chuckle, and the sound finally broke through the last of your nerves. Things are alright. It’s not weird after the kiss. He didn’t pull away when I touched him. “Do you?”

“No.” He groaned. “Clothes. Something with too many buttons, I’m sure.” You laughed at his words, picturing Pero standing in front of his closet and scowling at the assortment in front of him. 

“Whatever it is, I’m sure you’ll look handsome.” He scoffed, but when you looked over, you saw a faint pink tinge to his cheeks. I made him blush. “We can talk about something else, it’s fine.” You pressed your lips together to keep a broad smile from spreading across your face. “Do you know how many people are at this meet and greet tonight?” 

“About a hundred.” He switched lanes and then eased onto his freeway. “I’ll have the final number when we get there.” It was a lot more than you’d expected, and even though you knew more people would make it difficult to keep an eye on every one of them, the increased number would also make it simpler for William and Pero to blend in. 

“It’s going to take her a long time to meet a hundred people.” He agreed, keeping his eyes on the road. “What can you tell me about her? Just -”

“She is … forward.” He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. “She treated William and I like she knew us even though we’d only met a few minutes earlier.” You figured that she’d had practice throughout her career, so it didn’t surprise you. “You will get to meet her tonight, just to make it look real.” You hadn’t planned for that, but it made sense. “They will explain everything when we get there.” 

He fell silent, but when he reached over with one hand a few seconds later, yours was waiting. And when his fingers slid between yours, you didn’t waste a moment in tightening your grip. 

The organization of the meet and greet made perfect sense to you once you were in the building and briefed. 

Everyone was gathering in one of the venue’s rentable spaces, which had been decorated festively to reflect the season. Round tables were placed throughout the room, each with a number sticking out of a Christmas-themed centerpiece and various holiday props scattered across each table’s surface - and more piled up on a longer table against the far wall. 

Their client would meet each table individually and in order, speaking with people and taking photos or signing autographs. Her personal security would be spread throughout the room and at tables themselves, with one person remaining by her side as she moved from table to table. 

There was plenty of food and drink to enjoy while you waited, and a playlist that included some of her music - along with that of other artists in her genre - was audible through the speakers. You and Pero were at table 11, and William and Lin were stationed at 3, which meant that you could see them, but weren’t close. 

You knew that Pero would treat the event like any other job, but you also knew that you’d need to sell the idea that you two were there because you wanted to be, and so after settling into place, you’d asked him to go and get you something to eat. While he was gone, you observed the others in the room. 

It was obvious that most of them were fans of the artist’s, and had either paid good money for the experience or were lucky enough to have won the opportunity. It felt sort of wrong to be among them, but since you weren’t actively taking up someone else’s spot, the feeling passed quickly. And it disappeared entirely when Pero returned with two plates of food balanced atop each other and two drinks carried with his other hand. “Impressive, Mr. Tovar.” He ducked his head, but you caught the brief smile on his lips. “Will you be able to eat, or do you have to -”

“There is always time for food.” He stared at you, dark eyes bright. “And if I’m going to work all night, I need to eat.” You do. 

It only took a few minutes for you to finish most of it, and to your surprise, Pero wanted to talk while you ate. It wasn’t anything in depth, but it was still conversation, and it felt nice to have him speaking to you in the same way you’d seen - and heard - him speak to William and Lin throughout the years. 

He was more relaxed than you’d ever seen him, which made his shift back into business mode much more noticeable. You didn’t mind, though, when he moved to your side of the table and stood next to you, leaning his elbows on the brightly patterned tablecloth. It was so that he had a clearer line of sight, and you knew it, but that didn’t change the fact that it meant he was so close that he was nearly touching you. 

“Am I allowed to speak to you? Or do you need to focus?” 

“Please.” He looked over at you, giving you a lopsided smile. “I can do two things at once.” 

You took that as an invitation and reached toward the center of the table, picking up one of the Santa hats there. 

“You should put a hat on.” Running your fingers over the fur trim, you nodded. “Get into the spirit.” 

“I will if you will.” He took the hat from you and put it on his head, pulling it into place. “How’s it look?” The truth was that it looked ridiculous - but that didn’t mean you didn’t like it. 

“You’re the most handsome Santa I’ve ever seen.” Reaching over, you adjusted the pom-pom at the tip, folding it over so that it hung just right. “Let me take a picture.” You pulled out your phone and snapped a few, barely holding back your laugh at his frown - and then widening your eyes in surprise as it switched into a broad smile that was directed at you. “Perfect.” 

“Are you finished?” He cocked his head to the side. “Because it is your turn.” You hoped he picked out something good for you, and when Pero reached forward, you held your breath. There was no reason to, though, because he chose a headband that had a shiny tinsel tree atop it, complete with tiny, glittery beads in place of ornaments scattered throughout the branches. 

“Pero, it -” You took it from him and settled it in place, keeping your eyes on him. “There. How’s that?” 

“I would have chosen a mistletoe.” He smiled again, reaching for his phone. “But there was not one on either of the tables. I checked the other one when I was getting food.” Oh. Really? You… You were speechless as he started to take pictures, capturing a few before setting his phone back down on the table. Should I ask to take one with him? 

You didn’t need to, because an event photographer stepped up then, raising his camera and telling you to smile. Without even thinking about it, you leaned against Pero, tipping your head in his direction. When he put his arm around you, settling it across your shoulders, you breathed out a sigh of relief. Good thing we practiced.

Even when the photographer stepped away, he kept his arm around you though he moved it so that he could tighten his fingers against your side. “Do you want to keep them on?” He pointed at his hat with another finger. “At least until we go out into the crowd?” 

“You don’t have to.” You licked your lips, giving yourself a few seconds to think. “But I think it looks good on you.” He was going to reply but didn’t get a chance to. A loud cheer and some clapping signaled the singer’s presence in the room, and once again, playful Pero was gone, replaced with a man that was laser focused on the task at hand. 

She wasted no time, greeting the crowd and thanking everyone for coming before immediately moving to table 1 and interacting with the people there. 

The conversion in the room stayed at a lower level than you expected, but everyone was respectful. They stayed at their tables for the most part, with the exception being people at the higher numbered ones leaving to go and get snacks and drinks while they waited their turn. 

She was pretty in person, her long dark hair cascading over her shoulders as she spoke with each individual. You noticed that she was personable, but didn’t get too close to anyone until it was time to take photos. “I don’t blame her.” You pointed across the room. “She’s taking good pictures, but she’s not really letting anyone crowd her space. 

“She was told not to.” He leaned closer, dropping his voice - and his hand. “By us and her own team. It’s important she meet people and be herself, but her safety…” He hummed. “It is not worth the risk.” 

You didn’t say anything in return, instead watching as she made her way to Lin and William’s table. It was more of the same, both of them being polite to her, followed by her taking a few minutes to have an actual conversation with them before she took photos and moved on. 

“We’ll be on the lower level for the show.” He cleared his throat, picking up his cup to take a drink. “We get to watch from the mixing booth, because it is elevated.” 

“Yeah?” He nodded, his eyes following her as she moved to a new table. “So you have a better view of everyone?”

“Yes. I need to watch the crowd.” He gestured around you. “All of these people times a hundred.” That made you laugh, and when you reached over, settling your hand on his forearm, you were pleased to find that Pero didn’t shy away from your touch. 

“Are we going to talk about it, Pero?” He turned his head to look at you, and even though his face was impassive, you saw the slight widening of his eyes as they met yours. “The kiss, or the things you said, or -”

“Yes.” He wet his lips. “If you want to, we can.” Of course I want to. “When?”

“I’d say now, but we’re about to have company.” You squeezed his arm and then sighed, pulling your hand away “She’s only got a few tables left, and I don’t want to get interrupted in the middle of that conversation.” 

“You’re right.” Pero nodded, taking another drink. “Not a good thing to get stopped while talking about.” Not at all. “What will you say to her?” 

“I have no idea.” You reached for your cup, too, spinning it on the tabletop. “Maybe I’ll just tell her I liked her last movie. Or that I’m excited to see the next one.” You looked down at your hands and then back over at him. “You?”

“I was hoping you’d lead the conversation.” He smiled at you, shrugging his shoulders. “That way I don’t have to.” That made you laugh, and when you lowered your chin to catch your breath, you were still smiling. 

“Typical. We’ve been out two times and I’m already picking up your slack.” He snorted at that, but when he leaned in, putting his mouth close to your ear to speak, neither of you were laughing. 

“There are other times where you will never have to worry about that.” He paused and then leaned in even closer, his lips brushing against your ear when they moved. “And that is a promise.” You backed away from him, turning to look into his eyes and finding that his pupils were enlarged, Pero’s lips parted as he waited for you to reply. 

How do I even respond to that? What do I say? “Pero, I -”

“Well hello, you two.” You were interrupted by the appearance of Pero’s client at your table, the woman’s voice high and bright. “Nice to meet you, I’m Christina.” She stuck her hand out, and you reached for it, greeting her and telling her your name, too. “And I already know you.” She winked at Pero, leaning closer and putting her palm flat on the table. “It’s good to see you again, Tovar.” 

You thought back to the conversation in the diner - to William and Pero’s assessment of Christina and then jumped to him saying she was forward. I didn’t think he meant flirty, though. “Yes. You too.” He cleared his throat. “Are you having fun?” Oh, shit I was supposed to… 

“You were fantastic in End of the Night, Christina.” Cutting in, you tried to draw her attention back to you. “I loved your character’s arc, and -”

“We had a lot of fun making it.” She nodded once at you and then looked back over at Pero. “I’m trying to get this one to come work for me on the next shoot.” She looked back at you and lifted a brow. “You can never be too careful with security, and he’s supposed to be one of the best.” What? “Maybe you can convince him to help me out.” She bit her lip and then reached over, moving to put her hand atop Pero’s. “Hmm?” 

He pulled his hand back at the last second, sliding it off the table and lowering it to his side. Interesting. “Christina, I’m not sure I have that kind of -”

“I like my job.” He cleared his throat and then reached over, sliding his hand along your lower back until it settled in place on your hip. “I’m not interested in a new one.” She looked shocked for a few seconds but recovered, straightening up and putting both hands on her hips. 

“There’s still time.” She nodded. “Now how about we take some pictures?” She gestured for you and Pero to move toward her - so you did, reaching over to push him forward with one hand. “Tovar and me first.” Part of you was irritated with how obvious she was being, but another part of you was intrigued. Because she’s going for it. She’s probably not used to people turning her down, and … “Smile!” She stood next to him, tilting her head in and toward his shoulder. 

You watched as he stood stiffly next to her, his arms hanging by his sides as she put one of her hands on his back, between his shoulders. And you bit back a laugh when she moved even closer, asking him to take a funny picture and then mirroring his scowl as she faced the camera again, one hand rising so that she could touch the pom pom on the point of his hat. 

As soon as the photographer lowered the camera, Pero stepped away and waved you forward. You didn’t really want the photo with her, but Christina moved into place, putting one hand on her hip and actually posing. Fuck it. You posed, too, getting closer than Pero had but still not touching her, and when the images were snapped, you backed off. I’m ready to be done with this. “How about the three of us?” She turned to look between you, her eyes glinting in the glow of the Christmas lights. “We can pretend to kiss his cheeks or something, if that’s alright with him.”

You knew it then - that instead of pretending, she was likely going to actually kiss him. You wondered if it would cause rumors. You wondered if Pero would get angry when it happened. I wonder if I should warn him. But it wasn’t your place to step in, and if Christina wanted to flirt with him in the open, letting it play out was the only thing you could do, because it had to be him that chose how to react.  

“Sure.” You reached out, touching his arm. “But only if you actually smile in this one, Pero.” He grumbled out his agreement but moved into place between you, and that time, you didn’t wait to put your arm around his waist, turning your head toward him and tilting it to get the best angle. 

You didn’t worry about what Christina was doing, and when the photographer began to count down, you leaned in closer, letting your eyes droop partially shut. It was hard for you to keep from actually kissing him in the picture - especially since the cheek you’d chosen was the one with the bruise, but you managed. You also caught the way he swore under his breath in Spanish, Pero staying in place but stiffening. “You actually… why did you…”

“I thought we’d both…” Christina groaned, leaning forward so that she could look past him and at you. “Thought you’d take the opportunity to -”

“Nah. Not for a picture.” You grinned, holding her gaze. “I’ll just actually do it later.” Her mouth dropped open, and you heard Pero disguise a surprised snort with a cough. I said what I said. “It was nice meeting you, Christina.” Her surprise turned into a smile, and to her credit, she leaned forward, still watching you, but with her eyes slightly narrowed. 

“I’ll give you this one.” Standing back up, she switched her attention to Pero. “She’s good.”

“She’s the best.” He cleared his throat. “You should go to the next table. There are more people to meet.” She wanted to say something - you could see it in her face. But Christina didn’t speak again before she moved on, leaving you and Pero standing beside each other next to the table again. 

You wondered if you’d overstepped. You had no right to make a claim like the one you’d made, and though it had felt good in the moment, you weren’t sure if it was the right thing to have done. He’ll tell me. “Pero, I -”

He turned, so that he could once again keep his eyes on the woman as she continued to make her way through the tables, but Pero also reached over, taking your hand again and squeezing. “I think we have something else to talk about later.”

For most of the concert, you and Pero stood next to each other and didn’t speak. You weren’t in the mixing booth; there was a space beside it that was separated from the rest of the crowd, and that’s where the two of you ended up. He’d handed you a pair of earplugs before the music started, and you’d watched as he slipped a single one into his ear, too. He must have the earpiece in again. 

It was strange to stand beside him without talking, but as time passed and the music played, you got more comfortable. He touched you often, though, his arm brushing against yours, or his hand resting on your back, and those moments gave you the courage to touch him in return. When he put his hands on the railing in front of you, you covered one with your own, letting it linger for a few seconds as you turned your head enough to give him a smile. And when he leaned forward, eyeing the crowd, you rested your hand on his upper back, moving it in a slow circle.

They were simple things - things that wouldn’t be out of the ordinary to occur between two friends - but with Pero, they were significant escalations in the behavior between the two of you. Because a week and a half ago, we didn’t even speak. It was especially encouraging because of his reaction to Christina attempting to touch his hand. Even though you didn’t know whether or not he’d pulled away because she was a client or because he just wasn’t interested, you didn’t think it mattered much. 

He left you briefly to head into the crowd, Pero giving your hand a squeeze before hopping over the low railing and then heading down the two stairs into the general admission area. You immediately looked away from the stage and followed him instead, heart rate elevated. 

You had no idea what he’d seen, but it must have been something that also caught the attention of Christina’s team, because as he moved through the crowd, he was joined by one of the men you’d seen in the briefing room. They beelined it through the sea of bodies and approached a man that was by himself - and had his phone out and pointed at the stage, a hood covering the back of his head. 

They spoke to him for a few seconds and then the trio moved toward the edge of the crowd, leaving the floor area and going out of sight as they stepped out and into the aisleway. You frowned, staring for a few seconds longer at where they’d been before turning your attention back to the stage - and to the woman on it. 

She was a good performer, and even if her music wasn’t what you typically listened to, you had to admit that it was the truth. You could understand why so many people were fans, and were happy that she was able to utilize multiple talents in her career. As she finished one song and started to talk to the crowd, the lights came up a little and let you see more of the people in it. 

There were just as many men as there were women, and you knew - without a doubt - that many of them would jump at the chance to interact with her in the way she’d tried to with Pero earlier. But he didn’t take the bait. And she said she’s been trying to get him to agree to work for her, so he knew she was interested in … 

Your fingers curled around the railing as you closed your eyes, taking a deep breath. It wasn’t a surprise to you that she was interested in Pero, even on just a physical level. He was an attractive man, and his demeanor only made him more alluring. She’d likely only seen the professional side of him, but there was no doubt in your mind that even if she’d only seen moments of his actual personality coming through, it was enough. Because it was enough for me. 

You felt a presence at your back, and were stunned when you felt an arm wrap around you, the scent of Pero’s cologne filling your nose. Is he seriously… wow. He didn’t speak, but when you turned so that you could look at him, he gave you a single nod - and a brief twitch of his lips. He wouldn’t have come back if things were bad. 

Settling back into place, you leaned against him, content  to watch the rest of the show that way - unless he needed go to back into the crowd. 

When the music ended, he moved his arm and you reached up, taking your earplugs out and slipping them into your pocket. As you turned to face him, you heard Pero speaking and realized that he was likely updating William about what had happened during the show. 

“Come on.” He held a hand out when he was done, waiting for you to take it. “Gotta go and debrief and then we can leave.” You followed him backstage, and when you made it to the room you’d first entered earlier that afternoon, he let go of your hand and pointed. “There’s coffee over there. Will you make me a cup while I talk to them? The same way I ordered it before is fine.” 

You knew it was to keep you busy, but you didn’t mind and agreed. It only took you a few seconds to fill his cup, and by the time you’d moved to the smaller table where the sugar and creamer was, Lin had joined you. “Tell me all about it. We saw her take the pictures with -”

“She wants him to work for her.” You stirred his drink, staring down at it. “She was flirting, and then she actually kissed his cheek.” Lin’s gasp made you pause. “I know, right? I’m sure it’s a great picture, but it was …” Putting the lid onto his cup, you fully faced your friend. “She made it very clear that she’s interested in him. And she’d probably pay really well, so it would be stupid for him to -”

“What was his reaction? He didn’t seem…” She frowned, thinking. “He didn’t seem too excited. And what did you say? You were right there. You must have said something.”

“She played it off like she expected me to kiss his other cheek.” You bit your lip. “I didn’t. And when she asked why, I just said I’d actually kiss him later.” Lin’s eyes widened - and so did her smile, before one hand rose to cover it. “I don’t know where it came from. I just … I’ve waited so long for him to actually…” You closed your eyes. “I couldn’t help myself.”

“And you shouldn’t.” She reached over, the look in her eyes kind. “It was a genuine reaction, and he’ll know that. He’ll appreciate that.” You hoped she was right, and as the two of you looked over at where Pero and William were talking to Christina’s team, you sighed. “He told William he kissed you. He said it just happened, and he hopes that it didn’t ruin anything.”

“It didn’t.” You touched her shoulder. “And I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, but I wanted to keep it between us for now, because it was just a kiss. That’s all it might ever be, Lin. I just didn’t want to get too excited.” 

“I understand.” She smiled at you. “I’ll always listen if you want to talk, but you don’t have to tell me anything.” She gestured over at a set of couches in the middle of the room. “We should sit, they might be a -” You heard William calling her name, and both of you looked over in time to see him waving her over. “OK, nevermind. I guess we’re going over there.” 

Pero was still talking to the other security guards when you got to where they were all standing, and their voices were low enough that you couldn’t make much out. I hope everything’s alright. “As soon as Tovar finishes, we can head out.” His attention shifted to you. “I don’t want to leave you here, because it might be a second before he’s done.” 

“It’s alright.” You waved a hand at them. “I can sit and wait. You don’t have to stick around.” William looked like he wanted to argue, but Lin didn’t let him, grabbing his arm and launching into conversation about how hungry she was, and how they could stop and pick something up to eat at home. When she met your gaze, you mouthed a thank you at her, Lin’s only answer a wink followed by a sideways glance at where Pero stood. Got it. 

When they headed for the door, you took Pero’s coffee and sat down on one of the chairs, pulling out your phone. You didn’t expect to hear a woman saying your name moments later, and you expected to see Christina even less when you looked up. Shit. She’d changed out of her show clothes into a pair of sweatpants and an oversized sweatshirt, and had removed all of her makeup and put her hair up and into a high ponytail. She looks like a regular person. 

“Oh. Hi. I wasn’t… it was a great show. You -”

“I wanted to apologize.” She sat across from you, putting her hands into her lap. “To you and to Tovar. It was … inappropriate. I shouldn’t have kissed him without his permission, even if it was only on the cheek. And I shouldn’t have … you’re clearly here together, and I knew it. But I still…”

“We aren’t together, though.” You smiled, shrugging your shoulders. “We came here together, yeah, and we were at the fundraiser together and are coming to the Christmas Eve party together, too, but we aren’t…” You paused, wondering why you were being honest with her. “Pero and I are just friends. I was as much out of line with what I said as you were.” 

“I’m not sure about that.” She smiled at you, looking past where you sat and at where Pero and the others were. “I was serious about wanting him to work for me, though. I feel safer knowing he’s around.” She laughed. “And my guys are already good, so that’s saying a lot.” You understood completely; there was just something about Pero that put you at ease, and you imagined that in her position, feeling that way would be a comfort. “I think they’re done. I should go and talk to my team before we leave. I hear they pulled someone out of the crowd?”

“Yeah. Middle of the set, but he didn’t fight or anything, he just went with one of your guys and Tovar. I didn’t see anything else.” She nodded and moved to stand, but before she could, you felt Pero behind you again, followed by the brush of his fingers against your shoulder as he gripped the back of the chair. 

“I see you found someone to talk to.” You looked up, finding Pero’s eyes on you. “I’m sorry it took so long.” Waving the apology off, you reached forward and picked up the cup, handing it to him. Once he was holding it, you watched as he looked from you to Christina, Pero’s chest rising and falling as he took a few breaths. “Everything is good. The man we spoke to tonight was just …” He frowned, narrowing his eyes. “He was not dangerous, just behaving a little oddly.”

“That’s good to know.” She smiled up at him and then stood. “Tovar, I’m sorry about earlier. I’ve already apologized to your friend here, but …” She tapped her lips with one finger. “I wanted to do the same to you.” Pero’s lips parted, but he didn’t speak. “I should have asked before I kissed you, especially in front of someone else.” Christina’s smile widened. “I’m sorry. I hope that I didn’t fuck anything up for the rest of the time we’re working together, or …” She pressed her lips together. “Or for more potential to work together in the future.” 

So she still wants him to work for her, and she wants him to know it. “Thank you.” Pero cleared his throat. “Everything is fine.” He moved his hand from the back of the chair to your shoulder, his thumb sweeping slowly over the outside of it. “But like I said, I am more than happy with my current job.” Christina blinked a few times but only nodded in reply, her eyes moving to your face and then back to Pero’s before she excused herself. “Are you ready to go? I’m done.” 

You were and told him as much, standing and then turning to face him. “Is everything alright? That guy -”

“We’ll talk about it.” He pressed his lips together. “My house is closer than yours. And it is not too late, so I thought …” Pero looked down and then back up at you. “Maybe we could order a pizza before I take you home?”

Your stomach rumbled at the suggestion, and even though you didn’t know what to expect from actual private time with Pero, you wanted to find out. “I can order it on my phone while you drive. Sounds perfect.” 

[perotovar]

ACTOR MEME → Pedro Pascal

[4/5] favorite roles: Pero Tovar | The Great Wall

[odetodilfs]

Goddamn it I'm in my Pero Tovar brain rot era

[sirowsky]

@becauseismellgood Thank you, love, that's so kind 🥰

Hello! Here I am, yet again posting a themed fic at the wrong time! I'm trying okay, but shit keeps getting in the way...

Description: The day before Valentine's, you and Pero are sent on a mission to repair a broken machine at the sister factory to the one you work at. And of course, the hotel reservation gets screwed up, and obviously you end up having to stay much longer than expected.

Warnings: Pero Tovar x Female Reader (no descriptions of reader beyond being female), both main character's pov, Valentine's Day theme, forced proximity, only one bed, coworkers to friends, friends to dating, vague references to a planned SA but no descriptions whatsoever, protective!Pero.

Rating: Mature 18+ONLY Word Count: 11,572 Sirowsky's Masterlist All dividers by the amazing @saradika-graphics

   “Is this a joke?” You’re too stunned to even be upset about it yet, because this is just too fucking rich.

   “I’m afraid not,” your supervisor Gary apologetically shakes his head. “Look, if there was anyone else we could send, we would, but…”

   “But what? There are two thousand people working here, so don’t tell me you don’t have anyone else to send,” you grumble, not really out of anger, that’s not part of your overall makeup, but more out of nervousness.

   “I meant in the sense that you’re probably the only one who can put up with him for that long.”

   “That doesn’t mean it would be easier on me. It just means I can tolerate feeling like shit better than most.”

   “I’m sorry, I know it’s a bad deal for you,” he sighs, and he does look like he feels genuinely bad about it, but he’s also not leaving any options open for you.

   “And you’re still not gonna budge, are you?”

   “We have to send someone…”

   He gives you the details for the hotel and the keys to a company car, and you’re given one hour to go home and pack for at least a two-day stay in the neighbouring town.    The factory where you work is relatively new, only about ten years old, but it’s been performing excellent from the start, which means a sister factory has been in construction for the past two years just a hundred-and-fifty miles to the east.    It was officially launched six months ago, and there have been very few hiccups since.

   But a couple of days ago, a complex overhead crane began to malfunction, and then completely broke down, and that’s the machine which you have quickly become a master at handling, despite only having been working here for a little over a year. And you’re happy to go and help the new factory back on its feet, that’s no problem at all, you’re only excited about the fact that the company is doing so well, since it means you’ll get to keep your job.    Your issue with all this is that the only person who really knows how to mechanically repair this particular machine, is Pero Tovar.

   He’s been working here since the mother factory was first built, and he was the one who hatched the idea to build the crane, and then both designed and built the damned thing, largely on his own.    He’s a genius, for lack of a better word, but he’s also the most unfriendly person you’ve ever met.    And now, you have to not only work with him on repairing the damaged one, but you also have to travel and live with him for as long as that takes.

   Gary told you that he’d made reservations for you at the nearest hotel to the sister factory, but that they only had one room available, since it’ll be over Valentine’s Day, so you’re quite certain that no matter what happens, this is gonna be a horrible week.

   It’s still only 7am when you arrive back at work with your small suitcase, locate the correct company car and throw your luggage in the trunk, but you don’t get in.    You have no intention of angering your travel mate, so you’re not gonna assume anything in terms of whether he wants to drive or not. You lean against the side of the car with your arms crossed and your cap pulled low over your eyebrows, trying not to think about just how much this is gonna suck.

   He arrives just a couple of minutes later, parking his own car and then walking over to you with brisk steps.    You’ve never seen him dawdle, but he never seems rushed either. More like he just has his own pace through life which he keeps to no matter how fast or slow the world around him is moving. Like he’s perpetually unaffected by absolutely everything, which he probably is.

   “You wanna drive, or should I?” you ask before he reaches the car, so you’ll have time to move out of his way if you need to.

   But he doesn’t answer. He just walks up to the boot and throws his bag into it, shuts it, then heads for the passenger side.    A bit surprised, you take the driver’s seat, but you’re sure as hell not gonna ask him why he doesn’t wanna drive. It just seems out of character, so far as you know him, because he’s always in control of everything around him.    He’s the one person in the entire factory who has every license required to operate every piece of machinery or vehicle available, and he never seems the least bit unsure of what to do or when.

   Still, he’s not a supervisor. He has the same rank as you, which seems ridiculous given the disparity of skills between you, but it does mean that technically he can’t order anyone to do anything. And you’ve never heard him try.    People very nervously come to him with their problems or questions and for the most part, he just sighs and takes care of it, usually without a word but with a fair bit of growling. And if it's something simple enough that the person asking should be able to do it themselves, he’ll begrudgingly instruct, or show them, no doubt hoping they’ll never bother him again.

   But for all his expertise, the only times he outright tells people what to do, is when they’re asking for help. Beyond that, even on the occasions when he overhears operators talking about a problem and he knows how to sort it out, he never says a word without being asked.    And you’ve never been able to work out if it’s out of a deep respect for rules and procedure, if he just doesn’t give a shit, or if he secretly enjoys hearing them struggle with stuff that’s simple to him.    He’s about as easy to read as a book with every page blacked out.

   Which is one of the many reasons why you’re glad it isn’t a longer drive, since you wouldn’t dream of trying to start up a conversation with him.    But even without asking, you know he doesn’t want to stop by the hotel and check in before going to the factory, so you head straight there.    They’re expecting you, evident in how the gates swing open before you’ve even come to a full stop in front of them, so you roll your window down and wave to the security camera as you drive through.

   Parking by the large Arrivals entry at the back, where all new materials are brought in, you step out and wait for someone to come and escort you inside. Since you’re not employed at this factory you can’t enter the factory floor without a yellow vest and a supervisor to take you to the area that you’ll be working in.    Safety procedures are so precise that not even Tovar, who’s done this several times before, is allowed to step foot inside without an escort.

   “Good morning,” a cheerful older woman greets you after just a minute. “I’m Hannah, supervisor of the assembly team.”

   You notice that she only introduces herself to you, so she’s clearly met Tovar before. She’s carrying two vests and hands them to each of you, waiting until you’ve put them on fully before she invites you inside.

   “How big of a failure are we talking about?” you ask as you follow her out of the morning sunlight and into the crisp white, fluorescent lighting, which seems so dark in comparison.

   “Complete. My estimate is that we’re looking at both mechanical and hydraulic malfunction, and there also seems to be a problem with the software.”

   “In that case we have to consider the possibility that the software is the root cause.”

   “I wasn’t aware the crane could sabotage itself,” she ponders, turning a corner around a plastic processing machine before you reach the assembly section, which sits two floors lower down to make room for the giant overhead crane in question.

   You still have to walk halfway through the rest of the factory to reach the control panel, but while you do, you get a good look at two sides of the machine. It has a scientific name, but all workers just call it MAP, short for the three processes it’s capable of performing simultaneously: moulding, assembling, and packaging.

   “If the software fails to accept new commands, especially if they’re related to the assembly arms rather than the material deposits and moulds, then it can end up over-reaching or colliding with itself, which isn’t necessarily visible on the outside, since the turning radius is shorter than it appears to be.” You rattle off the explanation without pause, and she turns her head to the side to look at you while you continue to walk.

   “You mean it can crash into itself without us noticing?”

   “Unfortunately, yes. And when it happens because of a software problem, there’s no guarantee the system will be able to identify the collision and inform you about it, so then the only option it has is to default to its primary security mode and completely shut itself down.    But we won’t know if that’s what’s happened until we’ve had a chance to look at the failure logs.”

   You’re highly aware that Tovar is walking right behind you, and it makes you feel self-conscious in terms of your knowledge about the potential problem.    He knows so much more than you, and yet here you are, talking about the machine that he developed as if you’re every bit as familiar with it as he is. You wouldn’t even blame him if he told you to shut up and leave it to him, because honestly, he’d be well within his rights to.    But he doesn’t say a word.

   Reaching the control panel, you find a whole group of operators waiting with tools of every kind, ready and possibly even eager to pitch in and start fixing stuff, but you merely nod at them and then the two of you set to work. They won’t be able to help with anything until you’ve identified what the actual problem is.    Still with his mouth firmly shut, Tovar begins to dismantle a cover which protects a kind of black box, designed to record and store all malfunction log entries of the operating system for the entire machine, while you start tapping keys to assess how big of a problem you might be dealing with.

   “Shit… The system’s completely crashed,” you relay your findings to your colleague. “We might be looking at a partial or even complete reconstruction.”

   As always, without being asked a direct question, the grumpy Spaniard doesn’t reply, but you’re expecting that. You’re just trying to keep him informed.    But when he manages to gain access to the box, what he finds is even worse than you’d imagined.    The box contains servers, about a hundred of them, and there’s a small screen on one end where he can access specific logs by searching for dates and times. But when he activates the screen, it’s already displaying thousands of entries, all flashing red to indicate problems.

   “We will need to look at the main servers,” he instructs, and the operators immediately spring into action to unscrew the access panel for the primary system.

   It only takes them seconds, and then the core of the computer is revealed.    There are about five hundred servers in there, each with its own little sequence of tiny lights on the front, to indicate where there might be problems. They can shine green, yellow, and red, but also flash in each colour and in a specific order to tell him what’s going on.    But more than half of them have gone dark. Not shining red or flashing, but completely dark. Dead. Which means those servers have suffered such a catastrophic failure that they’ve burned through their circuits.

   “That didn’t happen all at once, did it?” you guess, peering over Tovar’s shoulder after he kneels in front of the open panel to take a closer look.

   “No. This started months ago and slowly built into a cascade. The entire computer must be replaced and the operating system re-uploaded and installed.”

   You can’t quite hold back your heavy sigh of disapproval as you realize just how long this is gonna take.    It was bad enough to be stuck here and living with the unfriendliest person in the world when it was just gonna be for a couple of days, but now it’s looking more like it’s gonna be a couple of weeks.

   “Fuck…”

~~~    You don’t arrive at the hotel until almost 9.30 that evening, after trying to get as much of the dismantling as possible done, so you’ll be able to get started on the rebuild already tomorrow morning. And you’re so tired by the time you get to the room that you don’t even care about having to sleep in the same room as Tovar. All you want is just a shower and then as many hours of rest as you can possibly get.    However, when you walk into the room and see a large double bed, instead of two separate ones, sleep suddenly seems very far away indeed.

   “T-there were supposed to be two beds…” you nervously stutter, while racking your brain to try and remember exactly what Gary had said about the booking.

   Did he say that they only had one room available, with double beds, or with a double bed?    The more you think about it the more convinced you become that it was in fact the latter, and your pulse jumps to what seems like twice its normal pace.    But your colleague doesn’t respond, nor does he look the slightest bit concerned about it.

   “’I’m gonna go talk to the front desk clerk again,” you say while already heading for the door, grabbing a key card on your way out.

   Pero sighs deeply after hearing the door close behind you. Nobody likes him, for good reason, so he isn’t surprised that you don’t want to share a bed with him, but it also offends him somewhat.    It’s not like he’d ever do anything to you. He’s not a kind or sweet person, but he sure as shit isn’t an abuser either. He would never lay hands on a woman without permission, and he’d rather chew off his own arms than hit someone who couldn’t possibly defend themselves against him. There’s no victory to that kind of fight.

   But of course, you can’t know how he thinks since he never shares any of his thoughts with anyone.    Hence the sigh.    The likelihood of another room being available is very low, though. Gary wouldn’t have booked this if there was any better alternative available within the company’s budget, so while he waits for you to return, he takes a quick shower and brushes his teeth.

   You come back just as he leaves the bathroom, which is right next to the front door, so the two of you almost collide in the hallway. And if he isn’t mistaken, he catches a glimpse of you eyeing his naked upper body with what doesn’t appear to be disgust or disinterest. More like the opposite.    It’s only there for a millisecond before you’ve schooled your expression and turned your entire face away, but he could swear there was a sliver of desire within you just then, and he’s quite surprised at how much that pleases him.

   “Uh… wh-.. Hrm…” you try, but whatever you meant to say, it doesn’t seem to find its way out, so you simply pass him in the hall and head for your suitcase which is parked at the foot of the bed.

   Since he’s done with his evening toilet, Pero ends up following you there, rounding the bed behind you and pulling the covers back on the right-hand side of it.    He’s only wearing his boxer briefs and when he sits down, his back is to you, so he can’t see if you steal any more looks at him, but it does secretly bemuse him to imagine that you do.

   “There weren’t any other rooms available,” you finally manage, just after he lays down and pulls the covers over himself. “They apparently have a Valetine’s Day special here every year, offering all kinds of romantic couples spa treatments and even a speed-dating event, all of which seem to be very popular.”

   Your voice is small and nervous, as if you’re worried that he’ll scold you for speaking too loudly in his presence, which seems excessive. He’s never been cruel to you.    At least, not by any of his own definitions of cruelty.    He’s lying on his side with his back to you, so he can’t read your expression, but he wonders if you’re actually scared of him, because that’s what it sounds like.    It’s quiet for a minute then, and all he hears is the zipper on your suitcase being opened and you grabbing some things before heading for the bathroom, so he assumes everything’s okay, and with the day you’ve had, he falls asleep not long after.

   He wakes up to his alarm the following morning at 5:45am, and rolls out of bed on routine, heading for the bathroom. Rounding the foot of the bed, he notices that the covers on your side are already immaculately made up and when he looks up, he finds you sitting at the small table in the corner by the TV, dressed and ready, fiddling with your phone.    Momentarily confused, he glances at his wristwatch, wondering if he set the alarm the wrong time or something. Because why would you get up earlier than you need to when you got in so late last night?

   He would’ve slept another half-hour himself if not for the fact that you need to go to the hotel restaurant for breakfast since you didn’t have time yesterday to buy something you can eat in the room or on the way.    Your head is bowed as you’re looking at the screen, but he can still see how tired you are, so clearly, you didn’t sleep nearly as soundly as he did, which seems to match with your nervousness last night.

   And while he’s doing his morning toilet, he realizes that something about seeing you look so tortured really annoys him. Deep down, he knows why, but he doesn’t allow himself to go there.    Returning to his bag on his side of the bed, he steals glances at you, trying to quell the stronger feelings that your presence keeps stirring up, but he can’t seem to gain control of himself, which leaves him sour and cranky. So, when he finally has cause to speak to you, it comes out with much more of a sting than he’d intended.

   “Let’s get going.”

   It sounds harsh and almost accusatory, which comes as a surprise to Pero himself, because you’ve been ready to go since before he woke up, so he has no right to hurry you on.    Still, you don’t protest or challenge him, even though you absolutely should, and as he leads the way down the corridors to the elevator, he wonders if he truly has left such a horrid impression on you over this past year, that you genuinely do fear him.

   You’re a happy person. He’s not good at interacting with people, but he’s excellent at reading them, and he’s been working closely with you since you first started, so he’s had plenty of opportunities to study you. And what he’s seen is a lot of humour and a generally positive attitude, even when things are tough. You’re the one who keeps everyone’s spirits up in the breakroom, coming up with little games and puzzles to keep your coworkers entertained and let them forget about the problems out on the factory floor.

   But he hasn’t seen that side of you for even one minute since the two of you were sent on this repair mission, and the only reason he can see why that would be, is because you’re on your own with him.    It’s not like the two of you haven’t been on your own in your sector of the factory before, but it’s different when you’re in an unfamiliar environment surrounded by people you’ve never met, and can’t even go home to your own bed at the end of the day.

   Pero has never had more than temporary relationships with women, because he does know how unfriendly he is and why he behaves that way, which means that there’s a lot he doesn’t know or understand about the fairer sex. But what he does have extensive experience with, is seeing how the world treats you, and how powerless you often are to change your own circumstances or even keep yourselves safe.

   He’s lost count of how many brawls he’s gotten himself into, and walked away from largely unscathed, simply by intervening whenever he’s witnessed men behaving badly towards women. He doesn’t do it out of the goodness of his heart, he’s not even sure his heart is good at all, but simply because it irks him. And he doesn’t expect or accept any thanks for it because he only does it to keep from losing his fucking mind with the urge to vomit all over those kinds of guys.

   But now that he watches you hurriedly fill a plate from the breakfast buffet, ignoring all the things he knows you normally love to indulge in when you get the chance, like the Nutella croissants and raspberry yoghurt with fresh berries, he realizes that he’s the only one who’s being disrespectful towards you right now.    He should apologize for barking at you, maybe compliment your cute red nail-polish with little white hearts, or perhaps express some concern over how tired and stressed you look.

   Instead, he finishes filling his own plate and takes his seat opposite you, without a word spilling over his lips.

   Work is slow and tedious, each new hard drive being installed takes about twenty minutes because each one has to be independently connected to the core system, in the correct sequence, before you can move on to the next. And on top of that, the hydraulics in all eight of the machine’s mechanical arms needs to be replaced, which is where most of your focus lies, while Tovar primarily works on the computer.

   He’s better at it than you or anyone of the other operators, so it’s only logical, and you’re somewhat relieved to not be around him much today.    You hadn’t been able to bring yourself to lay down next to him last night, so you’d spent the night on the floor instead, thankfully waking up early enough that you’d had time to make your side of the bed before he noticed.    Not that you’re sure why he’d be bothered by that. He doesn’t give a shit about your comfort, so why would he care where you sleep?

   Unfortunately, this means you haven’t gotten much sleep at all since the floor was hard and cold and you kept having to change positions to keep various body parts from going numb.    But working on the mechanical arms means working with the sister factory operators, and they’re proving to be just as good fun as your regular coworkers, so while the day might have started out crabby, by lunchtime you’re feeling pretty good.    Until you hear that Tovar has left the factory over lunch, taking the car into town to eat, without asking if you might wanna tag along.

   You wouldn’t really have expected him to ask, that’s not his style, but he could’ve let you know that he was leaving to give you a chance to go with him and maybe buy some breakfast for tomorrow or just a damned Valentine’s gift for yourself.    Today is the 14th after all, and since it was supposed to be a day off for you, you had a whole day planned back home.

   Nothing fancy, just a nice solo dinner and dessert, a spa bath and some skin pampering, and then just relaxing on the sofa with the book you’re currently reading and some of your favourite music.    It would’ve been a perfect day. But instead, you’re literally covered in engine grease, the kind used for airplanes, no less, and there’s no point in washing more than your hands before digging into your microwave meal which you bought from a vending machine outside the management offices.

   Your colleague returns within the allotted half-hour break, which seems odd considering the time it usually takes to order a meal, receive it, and then eat it, plus the drive back and forth into town. But you’re sure as hell not gonna ask him about it. He’s made it clear he wants nothing to do with you.    So, you get back to work, doing your best to ignore him for the rest of the day.

   However, it being a holiday, albeit a small one, the staff aren’t gonna stick around until 9pm like last night. They start packing it in before 6pm, and since you can’t be there without a chaperone, you’re both forced to leave early as well, which means you now have an entire evening to spend with the one person you’ve ever met who hates spending time with a single living thing.    On fucking Valentine’s Day.

   He drives this time, and you’re so tired and fed up with this whole situation that you never even ask if you can stop by a grocery store on the way. And once back in the hotel room, you’re all but ready to collapse and sleep for the rest of the evening, but then you remember that you’re not in any way interested in sleeping next to your travel companion, which just sours your mood even more.

   “Do you need the bathroom any time soon?” you ask after arriving back in the room, and he just shakes his head, so you grab your toiletry bag and some clean cozy clothes from your suitcase and then lock yourself in there for what’s gonna be a very long shower.

   For a long while, you just sit on the floor underneath the spray, and cry. Maybe because you feel particularly lonely today, or maybe just because you’re so tired, but whatever the reason might be, you don’t care enough to try and work it out.    But after what has to be an hour, possibly even more than that, you start to feel overheated, so you quickly clean your hair and scrub your skin before stepping out and getting started on some moisturization.

   You still don’t wanna go out into the other room, though, so you take your time blow-drying and styling your hair, even though you’re just going to bed. Then you clean and dry all your product bottles before putting them back into your toiletry bag.    And then you can’t find any more excuses to stay in there any longer, so with a deep sigh, you unlock the door and step out into the cool and dry air of the bedroom, heading straight for your suitcase without even looking to see where Tovar is.

   Until something catches your eye.    There’s a glimmer towards the head of your side of the bed, and when you look up, a little gift box is sitting on your pillow.    You turn around once, scanning the room, but he isn’t in there. What is in there, sitting on the small table in the corner, is a classic silver tray with a cover, and a single red rose resting in front of it.

   Confused, you look from the silvery little box with a perfect bow on top, to the silvery tray in the other end of the room, utterly unable to connect the dots and unsure of where to even start with this.    Finally, after at least a minute of perplexed deliberation, you decide to open the gift first.    It’s about the size of the palm of your hand, and it isn’t wrapped, so you can just lift the top half of it off, but once you do, you kinda forget how to be a human being for a split second.

   Because this must be from him. But how the fuck does he know? You’ve never had a genuine conversation with the man, and he’s never once expressed any interest in learning anything personal about you. So, how could he possibly know that you’ve wanted a d’amour gold diamond necklace from Cartier for years, and just never felt like it was an acceptable expense?    It’s not the priciest piece of jewellery, just shy of a thousand bucks, but that’s still way beyond what you feel is acceptable to spend on what’s essentially just an accessory.

   Yet, here it is. The exact piece you’ve been dreaming about one day feeling like you can gift yourself. It makes no sense.    Tearing your gaze off the sparkling jewellery to try and regain some clarity of thought, you then remember the tray, and slowly approach the little table, suddenly extremely curious but also kinda worried about what might be under that cover.

   The rose is also of the expensive type, as big as a coffee cup saucer and blood red, with a sweet and soft aroma. You know the kinds of florists who sell these and it’s about the last place you’d ever expect to see Pero Tovar. The mental image alone is enough to make you snort.    And then you lift the cover and once more lose your marbles, because the tray is absolutely filled with all your favourite treats.

   From strawberries to your favourite sour candies, to caramel brownies, peanut butter cookies, your favourite chocolate, grapes, and two bottles of the best sparkling water you know.    Even if your solo Valentine’s hadn’t been cancelled you never would’ve treated yourself to all this. And once again you’re left wondering how in the hell the unfriendliest man in the world has accomplished this.

   But he’s not here, and his phone is sitting on the bedside table on his side of the bed, so you can’t reach him. Which has to mean he did all this so that you’d have a night to yourself in the middle of all this work, and the thought damned near makes you cry again.    So instead, you take the necklace out of the box and put it on, then you grab the tray, move it onto the bed, turn on the tv and snuggle up while you search for something to watch.

   He comes back around midnight, to give you as much space as he can without making himself miserable with too little sleep before work tomorrow, and he tries to be quiet when he steps out of his shoes and sneaks into the bathroom.    Once he’s used the toilet and brushed his teeth, he stays in the bathroom while he undresses and then quietly makes his way to the bed. But once he sees you, he has to stop for a moment and just look at you.

   The bedside lamps illuminate you where you lay, curled up against the headboard with the covers bunched up as a third pillow for you to hug, still fully dressed and with the tray of sweets in the middle of the bed, most of it already eaten. You’re holding the rose so that the soft petals touch your cheek, and around your neck the thin chain and tiny diamond glimmers.    You’re far away, sleeping soundly with a slight smile in the corner of your mouth, and it makes him feel warm to see it.

   You always smile, even when you have no apparent reason to. It’s how he’s used to seeing you, and it’s an unexpected relief to have that smile back.    It takes him several minutes before he realizes that he’s been staring at you for far too long, and promptly reaches over to lift the tray out of the bed and take one of the spare blankets to cover you with, before he carefully crawls into bed beside you and falls asleep still watching you smile.

~~~    The alarm on his phone is automated, set to 6:15am for the entire week, and it goes off when it’s supposed to.    He turns around and reaches for his phone but then hits snooze instead of turning it off. He’s dead tired and not at all in the mood to get up, so he tries to go back to sleep, hoping the alarm will magically turn back time and give him another two hours.    But then that feeling hits him. That feeling which tells him something’s off and he needs to be alert, so he opens his eyes.

   He’s still lying on his left side, facing your direction, so when he looks up, he meets your eyes staring back at him.    You’ve sat up and you look tired and confused, but also… softer, maybe. Less tense than you have these past two days.

   “When did you get in? I didn’t hear you.” You seem truly surprised to not have noticed him coming back, but then, you have no idea how stealthy he’s had to be earlier in his life, and how those skills still serve him on occasion.

   “Midnight,” he sleepily slurs without lifting his head off the pillow.

   “Oh. I was trying to stay up… to thank you.”

   He doesn’t reply to that, because he really doesn’t know what to say, and he much prefers silence to outing himself as both stupid and incompetent where conversation is concerned.

   “I spent all night trying to figure out how you could possibly know how much I love all these things,” you quietly continue in your raspy morning voice, which he finds himself enjoying far too much, “but then I decided that it doesn’t really matter. Because I know you aren’t nearly interested enough in people to ever stalk anyone, so however you found these things out, I don’t think there’s anything bad about it.”

   You haven’t asked him anything, or indirectly posed an inquiry of any kind, so there’s nothing for him to answer, which is why he simply keeps looking at you. But in his mind, he recalls all the moments when he’s overheard you talking to your colleagues, freely sharing your interests, tastes, and dreams, as well as what things annoy, scare, or unsettle you. And he wonders if you’re even aware of how much you openly reveal about yourself without hesitation.

   He thinks you must fear a great many things to be so ready to be known. To have such a need to never be misunderstood or caught on a lie that you’ll tell complete strangers about your thoughts and feelings on almost any subject, just to ensure they’ll know in advance why you might react negatively to certain things. Because that way, no one can ever call you a liar or attack you for being dishonest or unapproachable.    He thinks you must be terribly scared of people in general, and that being completely open is your way of both protecting yourself and ensuring you won’t become closed off from the entire world.

   But for all your vigilance, like everyone else around him, you don’t seem to notice him when he works within earshot of you, or just passes by close enough to overhear a few words or sentences of whatever conversation you happen to be in.    He’s good at blending into the background when he chooses to, but he’s also aided by the fact that everyone overlooks him because they know he won’t interact with them even if they try, so it’s like their brains scrub him out of their senses to make sure they don’t waste any energy on him.

   “What I do need to know,” you continue, oblivious to his internal memory trip, “is why you would ever spend a thousand bucks on a gift for someone you don’t care the least bit about.”

   The alarm goes off again, and since he’s wide awake now, he sits up and switches it off, turning away from you as he throws his legs over the side of the bed.

   “We need to get going,” is all he replies, fully aware that he’s avoiding the issue and using the fact that you still haven’t asked him a direct question as an excuse not to answer.

   But he knows the answer. He knows it painfully well. And there’s a part of him who seriously hates that truth.    You’re always unsure around him, for good reason since he’s never made it possible for you to be comfortable and relaxed in his presence, but his dismissal this time is more than just rude. It’s cruel, because it leaves you completely unable to judge his behaviour.

   Did he do this for you because he’s trying to manipulate you? Or because he expects a favour in return? Is he trying to get into your pants?    He can tell even without looking at you that these questions now flood your mind, as the tension of fear makes the entire room electric from one moment to the next.

   Ordinarily, you don’t shy away from tough conversations. You hate it when things hang in the air like thunderclouds waiting to strike at you. But you’re also smart enough to pick your battles and you’ve understood from day one, that all discussions involving Pero are gonna be largely pointless, especially when he behaves this erratically.    But he wishes you would pick this fight.    He hates to see your fear. If only he had the guts to let you know that.

   The workday continues just like the previous ones, with the two of you on separate tasks, him working on the computer and you out on the main body of the machine, teaching the operators how to reset and mend the hydraulics.    You’re tremendously skilled at all functions of this complicated machine, especially considering how short a time you’ve spent learning it, so he’s never concerned about you working on it. The sister factory operators, on the other hand, he could outright strangle with their own incompetence.

   And it only gets worse today, after he overhears a conversation between a few of them while they’re making their way to the lunchroom.    As usual, they don’t notice him still working where they slowly pass while quietly speaking amongst themselves, and the first sentence he hears is enough to set his teeth on edge, so he abandons the work and sneaks after them.

   He’s in a seriously bad mood that evening, and you can’t help but think it has to do with you, for some reason. He doesn’t wanna look at you and every time he has to, his mood seems to sour even more, and since you have no idea what you could’ve done, it just scares you.    So, by the time you get back to the hotel, around 9pm, you’re not even thinking about laying down in the same bed as him.

   Using the same tactic as the first night, you offer him the bathroom first and then take your time in there once he’s done. Then you sneak out and quietly pull the covers and pillows down on the floor, where you make a bed for yourself.    You don’t hear anything from him, so you assume he’s already asleep, and after a little while, you manage to drift off as well. But the floor is hard, and you’re not used to that, so you wake up frequently as your body goes sore and occasionally numb from the pressure, forcing you to switch positions.

   All of which means you don’t really get a lot of sleep, and by the early hours of the morning you’re finally all but passed out from exhaustion. And of course, that’s when his alarm goes off.    You’re sleeping so heavily just then that you go back to sleep the moment the alarm is turned off, and it isn’t until you feel a hand on your shoulder that you finally wake up fully, with an instinctive, sharp jerk away from the unfamiliar touch.

   “What are you doing on the floor, Sonriente?” he asks, and he still sounds almost angry, which makes you shrink away from him.

   But you can’t find a single word to explain how he is the reason why you’ve put yourself in such an uncomfortable position, so you just turn away and start trying to wake your limbs up enough that you can stand and maybe begin to feel a little less vulnerable.    Surprisingly though, as soon as he sees what you’re doing, he immediately reaches out and helps you until you’re sitting on the edge of the bed. Which only further confuses you because why would he help you when he’s angry with you?

   You’re trembling slightly when he lets go of you, and you’re not sure if it’s because your limbs are still in the process of waking up or if it’s adrenaline, but either way, he notices, and it seems to connect the dots for him.

   “You sleep on the floor because of me?” he quietly asks, while slowly backing away from you, and he looks either shocked or hurt. You can’t tell which.

   “I don’t know why you’re so angry… but whatever I’ve done-…”

   “No,” he cuts you off sharply, shaking his head and closing his eyes as if it’ll somehow make all of this go away. “It is not you.”

   There’s something very raw and open about him in that moment. As though his innermost being is exposed and trying to crawl back into the shadows of his heart, but hindered by whatever this thing is that’s making him so angry.

   “It is never you…” he barely whispers, and now he is the one who’s trembling.

   “But then… why? Why could you barely even look at me yesterday, and why did it seem like you only got angrier every time you did?” you question, feeling slightly bolder now that you’re starting to see how vulnerable he is in this situation.

   A ripple seems to go through him, and suddenly all the hairs on his arms stand up, and the trembling in his hands intensifies.

   “I can’t say it.” He’s gritting his teeth as he speaks, so the words come out in a slight growl, but you can sense now that this isn’t directed at you at all. “But I would never hurt you.”

   He sinks to one knee on the floor in front of you, still with his eyes closed and his head bowed, and his fists closed tightly against his thighs, but somehow you’re not the least bit scared of him anymore.    You slip off the bed and drop to your knees before him, carefully reaching a hand up to his shoulder to see how he reacts, and the moment you make contact, another ripple goes through him.

   But in the aftermath, he softens. His shoulders drop and something seems to unlock within him, so you decide to take both his hands in yours, fully expecting him not to accept the small act of comfort. But he does.    Piece by piece, he surrenders, first by letting his hands be held, and then by holding yours in return.    He’s breathing hard, and you can see the pounding of his heart in his neck and on his temples, but the longer you hold onto him, the calmer he becomes.

   “I’m sorry… for ever letting you think you had to protect yourself from me,” he eventually whispers, and his voice trembles with the anger that still simmers within him. “I promise you will never have to.”

   You feel like you’re seeing him for the first time all over again, or at least seeing sides of him you never would’ve thought even existed if this stupid trip had never happened. And it emboldens you in terms of how much you dare to stand up for yourself and demand a few explanations. Because you sure as shit have questions and it’s about time he answers them.

   “Why did you buy me the necklace, Pero?” You keep your tone soft, but you also let your voice remain strong to let him know you’re not gonna tolerate any excuses, and then you wait patiently while he gathers himself.

   “Because you were stuck here with me,” he eventually begins, and his voice is full of uncertainty now, which is something you never thought you’d hear from this man. “I know you had plans for Valentine’s and it all got ruined, but then you also had to put up with me and I just thought… maybe it would bring your smile back for a while.”

   “My smile?” Of all the reasons to give someone a gift, making them smile is certainly good enough. But this particular man wishing to make you smile is entirely unexpected.

   “You always do. Like there is a happy little film playing on the insides of your eyes all the time. Have you not noticed how everyone you meet smiles back at you?” he wonders, and you think back to all the people you’re regularly around, and then all the people you’ve met for the first time recently.

   And he’s right. Everyone always smiles at you, even the most sour office workers whenever they have to set foot in the factory where they’re no longer the experts on everything because their knowledge is all theoretical and they wouldn’t be able to operate much of anything out there on the floor.    Everyone smiles at you. Except Tovar.

   “You are sunshine,” he continues, “drawing people in with your light and warmth. It is impossible to resist.”

   “But you do. I’ve never seen you smile, not at me or anyone, for any reason, not even a smirk,” you counter, before you slip a hand out of his to reach up and gently lift his chin, because you need to see his eyes. “So, why are you suddenly acting like this matters to you?”

   It takes him a minute, in which he keeps trying not to look at you, but his eyes still return to meet yours every few seconds, as if he really can’t resist.

   “It always makes me happy to see you,” he finally admits, and he looks so small and unsure suddenly, which stuns you somewhat, because you would never even have imagined that Pero Tovar could look anything but tall, broad and competent. “I’m sorry that I am not better at showing you this.”

   It’s still so difficult to wrap your head around this, because in the entire year you’ve been around him, this man has never shown any level of care for another human being, whatsoever. As in, you’ve seen him sigh and continue working as if nothing happened, after a guy standing next to him accidentally crushed his own foot.

   “So… you’re saying you care about me?” you ask, needing the outright confirmation before you’ll even be able to begin accepting it.

   He pauses again. But this time, he meets your eyes the whole time.

   “Yes.”

   You’re a little late to work this morning, but he’s very relieved to have had the conversation you ended up having after waking up.    It had damned near broken his heart to find you on the floor, knowing it was all his fault for being such a fucked-up person that he can’t even tell you he wasn’t angry with you. And he’s absolutely certain that anyone else would’ve either gotten angry with him or just tried to avoid the conversation all together.

   But not you. You always take the hard road, because that’s how much honesty means to you, and you always manage to do it without losing your temper or getting rude about it. It’s one of a long line of things he admires about you.    And that’s precisely why he’s never dared to actually talk to you.    He doesn’t know how to do any of that. How to have honest and open conversations without losing his shit at some point. It’s destroyed every relationship he’s ever tried to have, and he’s been so scared of losing the calm and harmony you bring into his life by just existing in his presence, that he never would’ve attempted it.

   But this morning was different, because you didn’t get angry or defensive or even demanding. You just kept opening doors for him and for the first time in at least twenty years, he found the courage to step through them, one by one.    And now, when you park at the sister factory for your fourth day of working on MAP, he feels like maybe this won’t be as bad of a day as he had initially thought.

   As usual, Hannah comes out to escort you both, but there’s a grim look on her face today, and while Pero can guess the reason behind it, you still have no idea what happened here yesterday.

   “Good morning. I’m afraid we’re a bit short-staffed today so you’ll have to make due with just two extra pairs of hands on the hydraulics.”

   “Is there a flu going round, or something?” you ask, which is a valid question given that you worked closely with the three men who are out sick today and who could’ve infected you with a disease.

   “No, no. It seems there was an incident here yesterday, and a few of our workers were injured.”

   “Oh. Was it another malfunction?”

   “It appears to have been an altercation, actually,” Hannah explains, to which you raise a shocked brow. “None of the boys are talking about it, so we don’t know exactly what happened, but between them they have broken hands, arms, noses, ribs, a dislocated shoulder and a shattered knee. So, whatever went down, it was serious.”

   At this point, Pero notices a slight stutter in your steps, just before your head turns ever so slightly in his direction.    You know that he can fight, and you know he isn’t afraid to get in the middle of it when he wants to, so you’re probably guessing that he was involved in this altercation and that it explains his temper problem from yesterday. All of which is correct, and none of which he intends to confess to in front of the supervisor, which is why he’s relieved when you don’t say anything.

   Once by the control panel for MAP, however, where no other operators are working, since they’re already busy with the hydraulics, you only wait until Hannah’s moved out of earshot before you come at him.

   “What the hell, Tovar? Did you mess up those guys?” Your voice is low, but the tone is heavy with accusation and even a bit of disbelief, so you clearly never noticed the darker shades of these particular operators as they worked with you.

   “Yes,” he admits without shame or hesitation, to which your shock doubles.

   “Why would you do that?”

   He doesn’t want to answer this one, so he gets to work, hoping you’ll let it go as you usually do when he shuts you down. But of course, this is one of those times when you decide to take the fight, probably because of the progress with communication you had this morning.

   “None of them even worked with you, what reason could you possibly have to break their fucking bones?”

   Disgusting words spoken in entitled and arrogant voices suddenly flood his mind once more, and his anger re-emerges with full force. But he manages to stay in control of himself, so while he turns his head to meet your questioning gaze, none of that anger spills onto you, and it only takes you a second to realize why.    Your breath seems to die inside your lungs and for a moment he worries that you’re about to pass out. But then you suck in a shaky breath and tears form in your eyes as the understanding dawns on you.

   It’s a horrible thing to see, watching as you involuntarily envision what could’ve happened, the nausea and sudden weakness which seems to creep into your very bones even at the mere suggestion of the plans that Pero interrupted by taking them out.    If he’d needed any reassurance that his actions were just, your reaction is more than enough. But it only lasts for a few seconds, and then a different emotion begins to replace the fear and discomfort.    It takes him a minute to figure out what it is, and just as he does, you step towards him.

   The strength of your arms when they wrap around his waist is almost enough to bruise him, but he doesn’t mind.    He might not often feel deserving of someone’s gratitude, as the things he occasionally does to aid them are largely self-serving, but he does this time. Not because this threat was more real than any other, but simply because he knows and cares about you.    He’s tried not to. Tried every day not to let you creep further under his skin and infect him with your joy, but he never stood a chance.

   You don’t speak and you don’t need to. Your body tells him the truth of what you’re feeling in that moment, in the tiny shivers which keep making you tremble against him, and the strained breaths you struggle to take with your face buried against his chest. He can feel how hard you’re trying not to cry, how you bite it back with each inhale and then almost lose control of it every time your lungs empty.    But he also feels the relief within you when he wraps his arms around your shoulders and rests his cheek against the side of your head.

   In this moment, he has become your safety. The place where you choose to be because it makes you feel better. And for all his accomplishments, his inventions and ideas, technical skills and comprehensive knowledge, this is the only time he can recall ever feeling truly proud of himself.    Because you’re choosing him. You. The strongest and most impressive person he’s ever met.

~~~    That night, you fall asleep lying next to him, and although he’s tired after a long and emotional day, he stays awake for a little while just to look at you. Just to make sure you’re still smiling in your sleep.    And in the following five days, which it takes to finally fix the machine, this becomes your routine every night.    So, when the day eventually comes when it’s time to return home, you’re both mildly disappointed by the prospect of going back to your empty beds.

   Still, it’s nice to come home. You see your cars still parked where you left them when you drive past the employee lot on your way to the company car slots. It’s past office hours so once you’ve collected your things, you drop the keys in a kind of mailbox designed specifically for that purpose, and then begin making your way back to your own vehicles.    Neither of you are in a hurry, and he decides to walk you to your car before he heads to his own, just to help you feel safe. He’s noticed that you’re still rattled about the incident he prevented, in how you’ve been jumpier than usual.

   “I never thought I’d say this,” you quietly muse once you reach your car, “but I’m gonna miss your presence tonight.”

   You say it with a smile, but there’s insecurity within the expression, making him think that what you’re really going to miss is the feeling of safety which his closeness over the past week has given you.

   “But it will be nice to sleep in your own bed, yes?”

   “Definitely.”

   “And we will meet for the debrief first thing in the morning,” he concludes, hoping to leave you with a brighter perspective. And perhaps also hoping that you’ll reassure him of your desire to see him again.

   “The debrief?” Your question is genuine, reminding him that this is your first time working away and that you’ve probably never been told about the follow-up procedures.

   “Yes. We must meet Gary in the morning and explain everything that’s happened and what we have done.”

   “But won’t he have gotten continuous updates from the management team over there?”

   “Of course. The debrief is to ensure that our recollection and experience of what has happened concurs with theirs, to eliminate the risk of either side trying to hide any problems or complications.    So, we will need to tell Gary about the user errors which led to the breakdown.”

   “Okay. But we’re not telling him about…” you trail off, unable to finish the sentence because the thought alone still makes you curl in on yourself.

   “It would not do much good. Those men will be dealt with by the sister factory’s human resources unit.”

   “How so? We never told them what really happened, so why would their HR get involved at all?”

   “Because I hacked their phones and took a look at their search histories and saved videos, and even the small percentage of things I anonymously sent to their HR representative will be enough to get them arrested eventually,” he confesses, and it somehow still surprises him just how warm it makes him feel inside when he sees the relief in your frame.

   “Careful, Pero. I might start spreading a rumour that you’re secretly the sweetest guy in the world,” you joke, but there’s a hint of seriousness behind the teasing tone.

   “Go ahead, Sonriente. No one would believe you.”

   He says it with a soft note to his voice, just to make sure you know he wouldn’t mind if you did decide to spread rumours about him, regardless of what they might concern, if it would in any way help you feel good.

   “That’s definitely true,” you agree, mirroring his softness, and a slight spark lights up somewhere in your eyes then. “But you know, I kinda like that I’m the only who’s seen this other side of you.”

   “You may take all the credit for this yourself, because no one else has a hope of drawing it out of me. But it seems, against you, I have no defences anymore.”

   The smile you give him in response to that is enough to make him wish he could always sleep beside you. But this is where you finally part ways for the night.    He waits until you’re safely locked inside your car before he heads over to his own, already missing your closeness when he takes a seat and buckles up, and already accepting the fact that he won’t get much sleep tonight.

   It almost feels stupid how relieved you are to see him again the next morning. And the way his eyes light up when you walk into Gary’s office, just a few seconds past the dotted time, makes you wanna sit down on his lap rather than the chair beside him.    But you notice how discreet his reaction is now that there’s an audience, compared to how directly he’s been allowing you to see his emotions while you’ve been couped up together in that hotel room.    So, even though he might like you, he’s not prepared for the world to know about it, which is why you greet him with just a polite nod while you take your seat.

   “Good morning,” Gary grumbles in his characteristically sour morning mood. “So, this took a bit longer than I’d hoped, but I see you got the MAP working again, well done.”

   “Yeah. It was shot to shit when we got there,” you chip in, immediately back to expecting Tovar not to speak unless he’s asked a question, since that is still his normal state of being.

   “I saw the pictures of the hard drives. Someone sure did a real number on that thing.”

   “I’m guessing more than one someone. But we’ve shown them how to operate it correctly now, so hopefully it won’t happen again.”

   He asks you to go over the repair process day by day, and he has a lot of questions along the way, and true to form, your colleague remains silent unless Gary addresses him, so it ends up being a lot of talking for you.    But as it begins to wind down, you start to wonder if Pero is being deliberately silent specifically because he wants you to talk through it.

   He’s always quiet at work, that’s not unusual. But this was his repair job, not yours. You were just the extra hands, which means that this debrief should be primarily directed at him, yet by keeping his mouth shut, he’s forcing the supervisor to focus on you. And in doing so, you’re getting a chance to unpack everything that’s happened, at least in your own head, even though you’re editing stuff out before you speak.    Gary knows better than to push his top employee for a comment when the man is clearly not in a talkative mood, so it works perfectly, if indeed that is what the Spaniard’s doing.

   “Alright, I think I’ve got everything I need, so unless either of you have anything you wanna add, we can wrap it up here.”

   “Nope, all good,” you cheerfully declare, feeling lighter than you have in the past few days.

   “No critique you wanna hurl at me? About the hotel or the car? No jackass operator giving you a hard time over there, or anything?”

   From the corner of your eye, you see Tovar shift ever so slightly in his seat, and you wonder if he’s thinking about the men he hurt, or the one bed hotel room you initially hadn’t wanted to share with him.    But he says nothing, so you just shake your head at your supervisor and then the two of you leave his office and head onto the factory floor to get started on your regular workday.

   It’s nice to be back at your own station with your regular crew. It feels safe and familiar. But you find yourself thinking about Pero almost every second of the day. Wondering what he’s up to whenever you can’t see him at his station and wondering if he’s thinking about you at all whenever you do see him.    He never looks at you while he’s working, at least not that you can tell, so by lunchtime you’re pleased when he falls in beside you while you walk towards the breakroom, although it is a bit disappointing when he still takes his usual spot at the far end of the room rather than choosing to sit with you.

   But you do understand. It’s not like he’s gonna become a different person just because the two of you have begun to build a friendship, and you wouldn’t want him to.    So, you take your usual seat and play along with the customary banter, answering everyone's questions about the sister factory and what you got up to over there, and it all feels comfortably normal.

   Until someone makes a remark about Pero, the kind of thing you would’ve previously just ignored, but which now that you feel closer to your taciturn colleague, you suddenly find offensive.

   “Bet this one charmed everyone’s socks off,” the operator smirks, throwing a thumb in Tovar’s general direction after you’ve just finished describing the difficulty of coming in as the experts and trying to find a good working dynamic with a different crew.

   And in that moment, the fact that the Spaniard never defends himself, despite seriously fucking people up for just talking about hurting you, just makes you feel like it’s your turn to have his back and teach this crew not to talk about him like he isn’t even there.

   “No, he didn’t. But he did manage to charm my pants off.”

   You say it frankly, leaving no question that it’s the truth, even though you’re twisting the narrative a bit to make it sound like the two of you hooked up, when you’re actually just referring to him making you feel safe enough to sleep beside him in nothing but your panties and a top.    Still, the effect it has on the entire room is worth the fib.

   They all know you’re not easy. It takes a lot just for someone to get a date with you, courtesy of trust issues because of previous experiences. Nothing traumatic, thankfully, but enough that you always have your guard up and actively look for red flags in every guy you meet. Also, you’re very clear on what you want and what you tolerate, as well as what you don’t, which is enough to deter a great many men.    So, for you to let a mystery like Pero anywhere near you, he has to have insanely good game, and not one of the people in that breakroom with you can picture a reality where that’s even possible.

   Which results in a highly amusing blend of shocked and disbelieving faces, some frozen while they’re clearly trying to visualize this alternate universe, while others are just staring at Tovar, still sitting there perfectly calmly in his usual spot, reading something on his phone.    And the best part is, none of them have the guts to ask him about it, because they’re all just as scared of him as you still were two weeks ago. Which means that all they can do is live with this incredibly shocking revelation, presumably forever.

   You continue to chuckle about it for the rest of the day, and when the next shift arrives to relieve you, from a distance, you can see how they too are informed of this latest piece of gossip. So, odds are, this is now gonna be the talk of the factory for the foreseeable future.

   “You know you will be the topic of discussion for a long time now,” Pero cautions as if he’s just read your mind, while he comes to help you clean up before you leave your station.

   “It’s harmless, I don’t mind. Besides, it is true.”

   “Technically. But I do not like them thinking of you as a conquest. Mine or anyone else’s.”

   “Okay. Then shut them down,” you smile, and he can tell there’s a hidden meaning behind those words, but he can’t quite make it out, so you decide to spell it out for him. “Let’s go on a date.”

   Your confidence ebbs out about halfway through the sentence, resulting in a sudden fade of both volume and potency, so the word date comes out all strangled and barely even audible. But you’ve said it now, so you might as well soldier on.

   “What I mean is, I would like to go on a date with you. You’re free to decline, of course,” you elaborate, feeling more insecure by the second, even turning your head down to look at your shoes because you suddenly remember how much rejection stings, which you somehow hadn’t thought about until just now.

   “Do you like empanadas?” he asks then, and his voice is soft, just like it always was when the two of you were alone together in the hotel room this last week.

   “I’ve never tried them,” you confess, still unsure of what he means by that, but then he gives you a little smile.

   “Then I will make them for you. My mother’s recipe is a bit spicy, but I think you can handle it.”

   Relief and joy wash over you as you realize he’s agreeing, and your responding smile feels like it blossoms out of you. Like there’s no connection between your brain and your heart in that moment, it just happens because the feeling is too big to control.

   “Okay. So… your place?”

   “You choose. If you wish to have the option to leave if you feel uncomfortable: my place. If you wish to eat by a table and not sitting in the sofa: your place.”

   “For the record, I know I’d feel safe at your place. But yeah, a table might be nice,” you chuckle, and he nods in agreement, so you decide to be bold. “How about tonight, maybe 6pm?”

   “Sure,” he quietly agrees, but you can tell he’s pleased that you didn’t suggest waiting until the weekend.

   “Great. And if you’re gonna cook then I’ll get dessert.” You say it while starting to walk towards the assembled crews, ridiculously happy to see them still flabbergasted at the realization that their grumpiest colleague apparently has more game than all of them.  

But when you turn your back to him, you miss how his expression changes as he follows you, turning from a controlled interest and mild happiness, to almost tearful with gratitude that you’d still choose to spend time with him even when you no longer need to.    He might not be ready to show it in front of the others, but the brightness you pour into his soul with just your smile and your willingness to give him a chance, would make him glow in the dark if it was visible.    You might not have figured it out yet, but Pero Tovar already belongs to you, so all you need to do to have your forever Valentine, is simply to keep choosing him.

   I’m not gonna write THE END on this one, because I feel like I’m gonna be returning to these two at some point, so please let me know if that’s something you’d like to see.    All my love, always.    /Jay

@pedrostories @harriedandharassed

[something-tofightfor]

A Wonderful, Awful Idea / 3

Pairing: Pero Tovar x Female Reader (Modern AU)

Word Count: 8,953

Summary: Learning more about Pero - and his motivations is eye opening. Not only does it give you a better understanding of him as a man, but it makes a great deal of his behavior make sense.

Moving forward never comes without a few setbacks, though.

Rating: M: language. (warnings: talking about childhood trauma, Pero's injury, bullying, Pero and William's work - nothing in detail)

Author's Note:

Sorry this took so long to get out, but it's here now so please enjoy. I thought this would be the last part ... but in true Rachael fashion, it isn't. Hope you don't mind extending the holiday season into mid January.

The title comes from Dr. Seuss' How the Grinch Stole Christmas.

Thank you for reading, and happy holidays!

*dividers by @/strangergraphics

You placed the order as he drove, and by the time you’d arrived at Pero’s place, everything was in motion. It would take just under an hour to get delivered, which gave you some time to talk. He led you inside, guiding you with one hand on your back. “It is not much, but it is mine.” 

Even though he’d told you it was two bedrooms, it was smaller than you anticipated based on what you knew about him. But it’s perfect for a single person. “It’s cozy.” Turning around in a slow circle, you unzipped your jacket as you spoke. “I really like it, Pero.” 

The walls were light, but almost everything else was dark - furniture, shelving and window coverings included. He had a comfortable looking recliner on one side of the living room, and a large couch on the other, sitting just behind what looked like an antique wooden coffee table. Another quick look around revealed a dining room table large enough for two, a small kitchen with a set of pots and pans hanging from hooks on the wall, and a door that likely led out to a patio and the back yard. 

“I use the second bedroom as an office.” He showed you down the hallway, pointing out the bathroom and his bedroom, both of those doors pulled mostly shut. “William tells me I need to get a cat to keep me company.” 

“You should.” You turned around to look at him. “I think a cat could break through even your grumpiness.” He wrinkled his nose but didn’t disagree, instead pointing you back out and toward the living room. “And you could leave a cat alone for a couple days if you ever went out of town, too.” 

“That would be good.” He went into the kitchen. “Do you want something to drink?” You did, but instead of asking what your choices were, you went into the kitchen to look yourself, peering over his shoulder and into the refrigerator. “I have wine. That would be -”

“Pero.” You rested your hand against his back again, feeling him stiffen briefly at your touch. “Look at me for a second.” He stood back up and spun toward you, his eyes betraying him: he was nervous. “I don’t expect anything from coming here.” Taking a deep breath, you continued. “If you don’t want to talk about what happened at my house, we don’t have to. If you don’t want to talk about what I said earlier today to Christina, we don’t have to. You invited me here for pizza, and that -”

“I want to talk about those things.” He stepped closer, one hand rising to rub at the back of his neck. “I want to talk about them very much. But I also …” He reached for you with his other hand, Pero’s fingers sliding up the length of your arm before he settled his palm against your shoulder. “I also want to kiss you, if you’ll let me.” 

“I’ve been waiting all fucking night for you to do that.” He moved first again, stepping forward to push you back against the edge of the counter as his arms went around you. Pero held you close and paused just before he kissed you, inhaling through his nose. “Pero.” You whispered his name and that was all he needed. 

His kiss that time was purposeful, the ends of his mustache tickling your upper lip when your mouths met. You put your hands against his sides, urging him to stay close. Finally. Pero groaned, the sound low, and when you heard it you felt your fingers curl. That noise. “No.” He backed away, shaking his head. “No, we haven’t…”

“This answers one of my questions.” You took as deep a breath as you could. “My porch, it wasn’t … you don’t regret it.” 

“I don’t.” He shook his head slowly. “I have not stopped thinking about it … about you since that night.” Pero’s hands dropped to your waist. “When you turned around to look at me, I almost … I almost rushed forward again.” 

“I did too.” You laughed quietly, closing your eyes. “I wanted to. But I didn’t want to scare you. I figured I’d already gotten lucky enough with a kiss that if I pushed my luck, it would … not end well.” 

“I told you I am not good at this.” He wet his lips, dragging his tongue slowly over them. “I don’t like … it isn’t easy for me to tell people how I feel.” It was a gamble, but you decided to go for it. 

“Then don’t tell me.” You leaned in, turning your head so that you could softly press your lips to his bruised cheek. “Show me, Pero.” You’d have plenty of time to talk afterward - and you wondered if Pero would be more open to talking once he knew for sure that you had actual feelings for him, too. 

“Show you?” You nodded, meeting his eyes again. “Really?” 

“Yes.” Reaching up, you pushed the hair back from his brow, guiding it behind his ear. “I’ve got a feeling that there’s a lot more in there waiting to come out, and I think you’ve been holding yourself back.” You were right - you could see it in his eyes and feel it in the way he carried himself. But I don’t want him to. “You don’t have to ask my permission to kiss me. If I didn’t want you to, you’d know.” 

“And you don’t have to approach me like I am a scared animal.” He frowned, brow furrowed. “You always hesitate before you touch me. It is not necessary.” 

“I’ll remember that.” Stroking the back of his neck, you took a deep breath. “Might take me some time to get used to it because I’ve had to keep my distance for so long, but …” He ducked his head, lips finding the edge of your jaw. “Oh, you…” Pero kept going, lips trailing over your skin toward your chin and then up, his mouth landing on the corner of yours before he paused and then turned his head inward. “Pero, please. I’m going to lose my mind if you don’t -”

He didn’t keep you waiting. Pero’s lips crashed into yours, and that time, they were already parted. Finally. Finally, it’s… You opened your mouth, too, and even though you’d vowed to let him lead, you didn’t think twice before you flicked your tongue against his lip and then past it, Pero’s meeting it immediately. 

You’d started the kiss, but he deepened it, moving his hands from your waist up so that one of them was flat against your back and the other curved around the back of your head. He tasted like the coffee he’d had as you left the venue, and when you sighed into the kiss, he took the opportunity to graze your lower lip with his teeth. 

You tightened the fingers you had in his hair, and that made Pero growl, the sound accompanied by another swipe of his tongue against yours and then more teeth, that time biting down and not letting go right away. “How is that?” He broke the kiss to breathe, but didn’t back away, instead dragging the tip of his nose along the side of yours. “For showing you?” 

“It’s a good start.” You fought to catch your breath, too, letting your hands fall to his shoulders. “Fuck, Pero. I have no idea how you don’t have women beating down your door after kissing them like that.” He laughed then, finally stepping away and crossing his arms. “Why is that funny?”

“You think I kiss everyone like that?” He shook his head, eyes locked with yours. “Not a chance. That is the result of it taking this long to kiss you for the first time.” You laughed too, and reached for him, pulling him into a tight hug. “And now you have made good on what you said to Christina today.” He winked at you, and your response was to close your eyes and groan. 

“I shouldn’t have said that. I just didn’t like her assuming …” Shit. You trailed off, feeling like you’d overstepped again while apologizing for overstepping earlier. “I have no right to assume anything either, but it was just … I couldn’t stop myself.” 

“I don’t want you to.” He reached for you, using one finger to tip your chin up to bring your head level. “I’ve never had anyone do that for me before.” He frowned briefly, but it was more contemplative than anything else. “Claim me? It… I was not expecting it.” His lips lifted into a smile - small but genuine - and he continued. “I liked it.” 

It made you feel better, especially since you knew how difficult it probably was for him to admit that to you. “That’s good to know.” You reached out, taking his hand and linking your fingers together. “Can I be honest with you?” He nodded, flexing his fingers. “I think it would be really easy to get carried away with you. I think that if I got the chance, I’d like to let that happen.” He smirked at your words, but didn’t speak. “We only have one more event together before your assignment ends, and then who knows what you’ll have to -”

“Unless there’s an emergency, we’re done from Christmas Eve through the first week of January. William and Lin are going on vacation.” He gestured to the living room. “And I planned on staying on that couch and doing absolutely nothing for as much of that time as possible.” Pero said your name. “Unless you wanted to see me then. I know you agreed to three “dates” but -” 

“Yes.” You pushed off of the counter and closed the distance between you again. “I would like that.” And… “I’ve also got some time off and a very comfortable couch in my house that you can use, too.” The smile that lit up his face felt like an early present, and you returned it immediately. I wish he’d smile more. Maybe I’ll be able to make it happen. “The food will be here soon, won’t it?” 

He looked over his shoulder and at the clock on the stove. “It will. Where would you like to eat?” 

“It’s your house.” He stepped away from you and back toward the refrigerator. “You choose.”

“Couch. Then we can put on the TV.” He pulled out the bottle of wine. “If I drink some of this, I will still be able to take you home. But if you’d rather I didn’t, I -”

“I trust you.”   You pointed. “But I also want some water.” He nodded, and as the two of you headed back into the living room, you realized that even though having someone in his house wasn’t common for Pero, he was handling things well. And when you told him as much, he sighed, reaching up to scratch at the back of his head. 

“It is very … I’m surprised I am this comfortable with you here.” He held out his other hand, motioning for you not to interrupt before he finished. “Are you comfortable?” 

“Pero, we just made out in your kitchen for a solid ten minutes. Yes I’m comfortable here.” He held back a smile at that, but only barely, and it made you buzz with happiness. “I do have a question for you, though.” He gestured for you to take a seat on the couch and then sat next to you, leaning back against the pillows. “You realize that Christina was hitting on you earlier, right?” He nodded slowly, mouth set in a thin line. “And that proves that women are interested in you… like, beautiful, successful, women?” 

“Her success does not matter to me.” He frowned. “And there is a difference between being interested in me and being interested in me keeping her safe.”

“You offered to protect me if I ever needed it, and I’d be lying if I said that wasn’t… appealing to me.” You rubbed your hands together, looking around the room. “But she wouldn’t have kissed you like that if she wasn’t attracted to you. You have to know that. I think… I think you’ve spent so long convincing yourself that everyone else must feel a certain way about you that you actually believe it’s true.” 

“Maybe.” He took a deep breath. “But it changes nothing. I don’t want to stop working with William. I don’t want to leave home for months at a time. And I would never kiss someone I worked for. It is unprofessional.” 

“But you don’t really work for her now.” You looked down at your hands, hating the uncertainty that filtered into your voice. “And after the party, you won’t, so -”

“I have no interest in Christina aside from finishing the job we were hired to do.” Pero reached over, using two fingers to tilt your chin upward. “And you know very well just how … difficult it can be to change my mind.” He smiled at you, the expression softening his features. “How long did it take you to do it?”

“Years.” You bit your lip. “I know I’m being stupid, Pero. But this is still so new, I can’t help it.” He opened his mouth to reply, but before he could, the doorbell rang. “Pizza’s here.” He closed his eyes and nodded, pulling his hand away before he stood. 

“Plates are in the kitchen, above the sink.” 

Even though you talked while you ate, the conversation stayed light, and never circled back around to what you’d been talking about in the kitchen. Pero told you about jobs that he and William had worked, and you told him about some of your coworkers - and more about yourself. It happened naturally, work stories leading into revealing more about yourself outside of the office, along with telling him about your family and friends. 

He listened intently, giving you time to talk while he chewed through mouthfuls of pizza, but Pero said very little about himself, even though you left it open for him to do so. And though you wanted to give him time and space to only tell you what he was comfortable with, part of you wondered if he’d only elaborate if he was directly asked questions. 

So once the plates were cleared and the leftovers were in the refrigerator, you and Pero got comfortable on the couch again, the TV playing quietly in the background. “You said you were born in Spain?” He nodded, fingers smoothing over his mustache. “How’d you end up here then?” 

“It is a long story.” He paused, shaking his head. “No. That is a lie. It is a short story that I do not tell many people.” Pero sat up, putting his hands on his knees. “My birth parents were very young when they had me. They were not ready to be parents, and could not keep me. I went through a few different homes over there, and none of them worked out. I ended up coming here when I was almost 11.” He squeezed his eyes shut. “The couple that adopted me were … they gave me everything, but they could not give me friends.” Pero looked over at you, a sad smile on his face. “I tried very hard to make the other kids like me, but it did not work. They avoided me. They teased me. As I got older, I began doing foolish things, just for attention.” 

“Pero, you don’t have to -”

“No. You should know. If we are going to …” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I was only sixteen when some classmates dared me to go into a building that had been closed off. It was very dark and I did not have a flashlight.” Pero wet his lips. “I think they planned to have someone inside to scare me, but I tripped and fell. I hurt myself badly.” He pointed at his face, making a slashing motion with his fingers. “I should have lost my eye. But I didn’t. And afterward… I just did not care anymore whether or not they liked me or talked to me.” 

“Oh, Pero, that…” Reaching over, you put your hand on his knee, squeezing it. “Kids are the worst. There’s no one more cruel than a high school kid.” He didn’t say anything in response, and for a few moments, the two of you sat in silence, thinking. You tried to imagine teenage Pero, attempting to make friends in a new and strange country. You wondered what had happened after the dare - if the other kids had felt bad, or if they’d apologized, or if they’d just gone further in their dismissal of him as he healed, making him more of an outcast. He didn’t deserve it. “When did you meet William?” 

“After I graduated, I did not want to go to college.” He scoffed. “My parents gave me the option, but they just wanted me to be happy with what I did.” You understood that, and as encouragement for him to continue, you reached over, setting your hand on top of his. “I am strong, so I did more of what I’d done in school and took physical jobs.” He smiled for the first time in long minutes. “I worked for a moving company. I did landscaping. I worked security at different venues.” He shrugged. “Anything people would pay me to do, I did. No one cared what I looked like or how friendly I was as long as I got the job done and didn’t ask too many questions.” 

“How strong are you? I have a chair I need -” Pero reached over, shoving your knee with his hand - but as you both laughed, he didn’t pull it away, instead squeezing and then leaving it in place. 

“Very strong. But you asked about William, so be quiet and I will tell you.” Miming the act of zipping your lips, you widened your eyes at him. “After he retired from the military, he started working the same kinds of jobs as me. We met while working during football season. He and Lin had just moved here for her job, and we were assigned to the same team.”

“Let me guess. He started talking and wouldn’t stop?” Pero nodded, his thumb moving slowly over the outside of your knee. “He does that. It’s kind of annoying.” 

“Very annoying. But somehow, with William, I didn’t… he wasn’t talking to me out of pity. He just wanted to talk to someone, and I was a good listener.” That didn’t come as a shock, but Pero wasn’t done. “Lin’s family has money, and there were a few times they needed security for things they did - events and trips. They paid William to find people to provide it, and he asked me to help. I did, because even though he was annoying, I did not mind the work.” 

“And you became actual friends.” He nodded. “How long did that take?” 

“Only six months.” Pero rolled his eyes. “Lin is very persistent.” That made you laugh again, and even Pero’s scowl was less severe than usual. “And when William came to me and told me he wanted to open a company of his own - with just the two of us? I could not say no.”  

That had been before you’d met any of them, because when you’d gotten to know Lin and William, he’d already been working with Pero, and the business’ reputation was well established. “It’s good that you met him, then.” Pero nodded. “It’s just the two of you? Doesn’t that limit the -”

“We have a few other people we can call if we need them. Some of William’s old military contacts have been reliable in the past.” He looked down. “But yes, mostly it is just us, because people trust us. And that is …” He looked up and at you again, a pensive expression on his face. “I’m still not used to that.” 

“But you’re good at what you do.” He nodded. “So why wouldn’t people trust you to do your job? In your line of work, I feel like word of mouth is -”

“Very important, yes.” He inched closer, averting his eyes briefly. “But there are times when we …” He gestured at his bruised face with his free hand. “Do not deserve that trust.” He feels like he failed because he got hurt? But he said he handled it. He said… “I do not like having to get physical, but sometimes … sometimes it is unavoidable.” 

“Have you ever seriously hurt someone, Pero?” You asked the question before you could stop yourself, and once it was out, you worried that he wouldn’t answer. 

“Yes.” He looked you in the eye as he answered. “Do not ask me if I have done worse than that, because I cannot answer.” What? You stiffened, but didn’t move away. Does that mean he’s killed someone? “The job, it does not always … we don’t stick around. I only know what happens while I’m there.” What kinds of jobs do they take? 

“Is that another reason you don’t want to get close to anyone?” Your voice was steady, and you hoped that helped convince him you weren’t reacting poorly to his words. “Because you’re afraid that they wouldn’t… accept what you do?”

“Yes.” The word was accompanied with a single nod. “I don’t want to lie to someone, and unless I tell them exactly what I do, I’d have to.” 

“But you just told me.” You spoke quietly, heart pounding as understanding coursed through you. “So what does that mean?” 

“I don’t know.” He smiled, but it was short-lived. “I don’t usually do this.” You had a lot of thoughts, but didn’t know how to vocalize them. Pero opening up to you in such a big way was unexpected, and you knew that if it felt that way for you, it must have been even more of a shock for him. “I understand if you don’t… if knowing this makes you uncomfortable.” He pressed his lips together. “I did not mean to tell you all of it.” 

“I’m glad you did.” You thought for a few seconds and then moved even closer, saying his name softly. “Thank you for trusting me.” It still wasn’t everything - and you knew it. But what Pero had revealed to you was more than enough to make you look at him differently, and with more understanding. “Did you really think that I knew the nitty gritty parts of what you and William do? That isn’t … something that Lin and I talk about. And William and I -”

“I thought you would just assume.” He waved a hand in the air between you. “You watch enough TV to know that private security isn’t always safe and simple for anyone involved.” 

“Pero, we need to work on this.” You lifted a hand and reached for him, thumb stroking along his cheekbone. “You can’t just assume that I assume things. And you can’t write shit off before you give it a chance to happen.” He leaned into your touch, the expression on his face relaxing slightly. “You don’t have to tell me everything, but if you and I are going to be friends, we need to have an understanding.” 

“You want to be my friend?” He blinked, and used the tip of his tongue to wet his lips. “Just a friend?” You hadn’t meant it like that, but it didn’t surprise you that he’d chosen that to focus on. 

“Ideally, we’d be more than friends.” You closed your eyes, exhaling. “But even if it doesn’t get to that point, it’s still true that you can’t be friends with someone you hide from.” Pero was silent, and when you reopened your eyes, you were worried that you wouldn’t like whatever expression he chose as a response. 

“It really does not scare you that I am capable of violence?” You heard uncertainty in his voice, immediately understanding that Pero was completely out of his element with you. “Bruises and scars and secret jobs wouldn’t make you want to -”

“Pero.” You took a breath and then leaned in, kissing him on the lips. “I’m not afraid of you. The rest of it… I don’t like to think about it, but it’s not enough to make me run for the hills right now, no.” He considered your words for long seconds, his lips parted and eyes searching your face. Go for it. Just do it. “You just told me that you spent years trying to make friends and get close to people but it didn’t work. Now I’m trying to get close to you, and -” 

He hauled you closer, your eyes widening as he leaned back into the corner of the couch, pulling you with him. “Is this close enough?” He mumbled the words before he kissed you, lips soft as they pressed to yours. “Because I think we could get closer.” 

It stunned you how quickly Pero seemed to waver between moments of uncertainty and confidence, and you wondered if it had been that way for him for his whole life, or just when it came to friendships and relationships. He doesn’t seem uncertain about his abilities or his competence, it’s just … people. “This is good.” You pressed a hand to his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heart beneath your palm. “Are you alright with it?” 

He didn’t answer with words. Instead, Pero shifted more, moving so that his back was against the backrest of the couch and he was laying on his side. He urged you closer, and without giving yourself time to think about it, you pulled your legs up and stretched them out, laying on your side to face him. He draped an arm over you, fingers lazily moving against the center of your back. 

You stared at each other, both of you adjusting to the new - and unexpected - position you were in. He didn’t look afraid or unsure; for the first time, Pero seemed like he was comfortable with the proximity to you, and the fact that he’d been the one to initiate it. “How much longer would you have waited?”

“For?” You raised a hand, using two fingers to push hair away from his brow. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

“For me to get my head out of my ass and speak to you.” He closed his eyes and groaned. “To do something that was not shut down any conversation you tried to have.” 

“I wasn’t waiting for you.” You sighed and continued to move your fingers through the softness of his curls. “I’ve dated. I’ve always been interested in you, but I knew it was pointless to just … hope that someday you’d change your mind and decide you wanted more than saying hello or asking how I was.” His hand stopped moving and his fingers curled inward, pressing against your back. “And part of me thinks that without this assignment and your need to blend in, that wouldn’t have changed.” 

“William and Lin have been encouraging me to …” He sighed and rolled his eyes. “Quote ‘get over my shit and tell you how I feel.” You stifled a laugh, and even Pero’s lips twitched. “You would have worn me down eventually, unless you just … stopped trying.” 

“Three years is a long time, Pero.” You shifted your hips and his hand dropped lower, gliding over your lower back and stopping on your hip. “And I honestly thought you hated me, so … I’m not sure how much longer I would have kept at it.” You hadn’t known the words would come until you spoke them, and from his reaction, you knew that he could tell you were just as surprised as he was that you’d admitted it. “I can only handle so much rejection.” 

“That makes two of us.” He sighed again, closing the distance and turning his head so that he could speak into your ear. “I never hated you. It was always the opposite.” He squeezed your hip as he kissed your cheek. “And I am glad you did not give up on me.”

It felt good to be held by him, and it didn’t seem necessary to reply… so you didn’t. Instead, you inched even closer, tucking your head against his body and closing your eyes. Things were moving fast, even by your standards, and that meant that for Pero, it must have been at an unthinkable pace. 

“This is nice.” You took a deep breath, inhaling his scent. “Let me know when you want me to get up, or when you want to take me home or -”

“If I pull the blanket down, we could sleep here.” The words startled you, and you backed away, lips parted and eyes wide. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Would you want that?” He moved his hand slowly, sliding it back up and pushing your shirt with it. “Oh, you…” You shivered at the way it felt to have his skin touch yours for the first time, his fingertips moving against your side. “Just to sleep?”

“If you would be comfortable.” He looked scared but certain. “Sleeping in those clothes, I mean.” You didn’t like the idea of sleeping in your jeans, but you did have a sleeveless shirt on beneath the sweatshirt you’d chosen - and you hated the idea of saying no to something you’d fantasized about for months. I can unbutton my jeans. It’ll be fine. 

“I’d like that.” You nodded. “What about you?”

“My clothes are right down the hall.” He smiled, tapping his finger against your skin. “I can go change.” 

“Do you have a toothbrush I can use? Or mouthwash? I don’t want to go to bed without -”

“I do.” Pero sighed and then reluctantly sat up, which forced you to do the same. “Come. I will show you.” 

He let you use the bathroom while he changed. The whole time, you tried to ignore the fact that you were going to spend the night with Pero on his couch, which meant extremely close quarters. It’s not the bed. It’s not going to lead to anything. You figured that that was why he hadn’t mentioned the bed; not because it would result in you having sex, but instead because he didn’t want to imply that he was thinking of sex. 

But it was impossible not to let your mind wander when you emerged from the bathroom and saw him leaning against his door frame, arms crossed loosely over his chest - and the light gray t-shirt he wore - with his hip popped, dark gray sweatpants hanging low enough on them that there was a sliver of skin visible at his waist. I’m fucked. 

“I put a second pillow on the couch. He gestured with his chin. “I will be out in a few minutes. Anything you need from the kitchen, please take.” You nodded and then turned away, biting down hard on your lip as you headed back into the living room. 

If Pero’s choice in pajamas had such an effect on you, you could only imagine how you’d react to seeing him without clothes. If I ever do. It only took you a minute or so to get a couple bottles of water from the fridge and set them both on coasters atop the coffee table, putting them within reach. You removed your sweatshirt then, folding it it - and your bra - and setting them over and onto the chair before your hands moved to your waist, and the button there. 

“If you take those off, it’s going to be even more difficult for me to only think about sleeping.” He emerged from the hallway, arms swinging by his sides. “But if that’s what you want…” He winked at you, pausing long enough to flip the light switch, which plunged the room into darkness aside from the glow of the TV. “I will not stop you.” 

“I’m just unbuttoning them.” You did it as you spoke, watching as his eyes dropped to watch your hands. “Sorry to disappoint.” Was that an invitation? “Do you have to be up early tomorrow or anything?”

“No. You?” You shook your head as he took a seat on the couch, reaching for the large blanket that was folded and resting on the back. “Good. We can sleep in.”  

Pero laid down on his side, and you laid in front of him, choosing to face him instead of put your back to his chest. As the blanket settled over the two of you, Pero’s arm moved back into place - but that time, he didn’t wait to push his hand beneath your shirt, resting his palm against your lower back. 

That gave you the courage to do the same with him, but instead of leaving your hand low, you slid it up the center of his back, following the line of his spine. “Is this too much?”

“Never.” Voice thick, he continued. “If I trusted myself we would be sleeping in my bed.” I was right. He cleared his throat and then sighed, breath washing over your cheek. “I have wanted this with you for … too long.” 

“Well, now you’ve got it.” Tilting your head back, you kissed his stubbled chin. “Are you going to kiss me goodnight, or not?” It seemed that he’d been waiting for your invitation, because as soon as you finished your question, Pero’s mouth was on yours, his upper body angled so that it pressed against your chest. 

The kiss started slow, Pero taking your lower lip between his gently before releasing it, a quiet sigh escaping from deep in his throat. When you parted your lips and grazed one of his with your teeth, his touch on your side tightened, fingers digging into your skin. You wondered if you’d just caught him by surprise - or if his reaction meant that Pero liked a hint of pain with his pleasure. I hope I get to find out. 

He moved his hand up your side as the kiss deepened, Pero’s tongue poking between your lips at the same moment his fingertips touched the underside of one breast - and you moaned into his mouth, back arching slightly. 

With anyone else, it would have been embarrassing that all it took was one simple touch to get that kind of response out of you, but with Pero, you didn’t care. He broke the kiss, murmuring the words such pretty sounds, and then trailed a series of kisses across your cheek and down, over your jaw. Each kiss was accompanied by a swipe of his thumb, the rough pad of it traveling over the swell of your chest. “Pero, I -” He circled your nipple with that same thumb and you whimpered, eyes squeezed shut. 

“You like that.” He spoke without lifting his mouth from your skin, instead nudging your head to the side with his nose and then dragging his lips over the column of your throat. Who the fuck wouldn’t? You freed your hand from beneath his shirt and buried your fingers in the hair at the back of his head, Pero’s mouth descending further toward the collar of your shirt. 

You felt the bite of his teeth against your skin, followed by his tongue soothing the same space, and you hummed, tightening your grip on his hair. “Keep doing that, please.” You forced the words out, pushing the hand trapped between your bodies beneath his so that you could grab at his hip - and when you did, you felt him through his sweats where he was pressed against your thigh. Oh, fuck. 

Testing your luck, you pulled him forward, urging him closer - and Pero rewarded you with a roll of his hips, the motion giving you a better idea of exactly what was waiting below his waist. And when he did that, you decided to push things even further, slipping your fingers beneath the waistband of his pants and back, following the curve of his body. 

Pero smiled against your throat, rocking his hips forward again and allowing you to feel the flex of muscle beneath your touch. But then he cleared his throat, hand staying in place as he raised his head. “I need to slow down.” 

“No you don’t. I wasn’t stopping you.” He smiled at your words, closing his eyes as he shook his head. “What?”

“You deserve better than a couch.” When he opened his eyes and met yours, you saw resolve in them, and any argument that you might have made died on your lips. I need to let him do this his way. “I did not invite you here tonight to end up in bed with you. I just wanted… to get to know you.” 

“I did say it would be easy to get carried away with you.” He nodded. “But if you want to stop, we’ll stop.” You gave him a squeeze and wrinkled your nose at the way his eyes flashed at the feeling of your touch. “I -”

“I do not want to, but we should.” He ducked down, mouth meeting yours again. “It will give us something to look forward to.” That was an understatement; you knew that all you’d look forward to was the time when Pero didn’t feel the need to hold himself back. As he settled back into place beside you, he pulled you with him, bringing you both back into the position you’d been in before the kiss. 

But he left his hand in place high on your side, the warmth of his palm comforting. “I’m glad that this job happened.” Snuggling closer to him, you sighed. “I’m glad we’re getting this chance.” He kissed your forehead but didn’t speak, hand slipping around to your back and stopping there. “Goodnight, Pero.” 

“Goodnight, you.” You felt him move as you shifted, too. When both of you were comfortable, you sighed again, arm tightening over his side. It felt good to be held by Pero, the deep, even breaths he was taking lulling you even closer to sleep as the moments passed. The TV’s volume was low enough that you could barely hear it, but aside from your breathing, that was the only other audible sound. I like this. I really like this. 

Time ticked by, and Pero’s breaths got slower and longer, though his hand didn’t move from where it rested. “Pero?” You spoke quietly, figuring that if he didn’t respond, you wouldn’t say anything else. But he grunted, the sound something that could have been your name. Good enough. “You don’t snore, do you?” 

“Maybe if you’re quiet for long enough, you will find out.” Cracking an eye open, you saw that he was glaring at you, but as soon as he noticed you looking, the expression changed to a smile, followed by his arm tightening. “Sleep. It has been a long day.” 

You couldn’t argue with that, and only minutes later, both of you were past the point of no return - neither of you snoring. 

You finished Christmas shopping over the next few days, stopping to pick up last minute gifts after work and wrapping while you relaxed after dinner. 

You usually bought things for Lin and William, but that year, you decided to get Pero something, too. You figured that if you handed the other gifts over on Christmas Eve, it would be weird not to have one for him. It wasn’t anything big - you bought a bottle of the wine you’d seen in his refrigerator and a gift card to one of the restaurants you’d talked about and he’d said he liked. 

But you signed the card that you put the gift card into the card differently than you signed the others, chewing on the end of the pen for long moments before you started writing. I’ve enjoyed getting to know you, Pero. I’m glad we finally made it happen - let’s not stop. 

The bag with his gift in it joined the ones for William and Lin on your kitchen counter, the colorful wrapping catching your attention each time you were in the room. 

The morning of Christmas Eve, you woke up before your alarm, giving yourself a few minutes to stare at the ceiling. This is it. Today is … Your mind wandered back to Pero, and waking up in his arms. It brought a smile to your face, the same way it had when it was actually happening, the muted morning sunlight filtering in through his blinds and giving you a clear view of his features. 

It was the first time you’d ever seen Pero truly relaxed - jaw slack, a lock of hair hanging over his eyes and all of the tension he usually carried in his body gone, the rise and fall of his chest at regular intervals. He was almost more handsome while sleeping than he was awake, and the best part of it was that even though you’d both shifted during the night, neither of you had let go of the other. 

You wondered if it was because of the forced proximity on the couch, or if unconsciously, the two of you just hadn’t wanted to separate after so long spent dancing around each other. Whatever the case, you didn’t care. You liked being in his arms, and if the kiss he’d given you immediately after opening his eyes was any indication, Pero felt the same way. 

The two of you spoke a little over the following days, but you were busy with work, and he and William were busy with their company, too, getting contracts set up for the new year as well as making contacts for potential future business. 

But each time your phone screen lit up with a message from him, you smiled. And every time you sent one back, you hoped that he was looking forward to reading it. It felt like the beginning of a new relationship, and even though there were no actual promises of it continuing after the party, you had a feeling that it would. 

Those kinds of thoughts got you through until early afternoon, when you got into the shower so that you could begin to get ready for the night. You spent a lot of time under the spray, the bathroom filling with steam and the scents of all of your different products. It calmed you, which you needed, and by the time you stepped back into your bedroom, robe wrapped tightly around your body, you’d convinced yourself that the night would be the actual start of something between you and Pero. Why wouldn’t it be? After the last couple weeks? 

You did your hair and makeup before you got dressed, paying careful attention to your reflection - and your overall appearance. Again, you wanted Pero to know that you’d taken care to look good for him, especially after learning about his past - and more about the way he viewed himself. 

Lin texted you while you were finishing with your clothes, telling you that when you got to their place, you should park on the street. You sent back a reply along with a thumbs up emoji, and just before you could set the phone back down, a new message came  though - that one from Pero. 

Should I shave? 

He’d included a picture, something that he hadn’t ever done before - a shot of himself in a mirror, his head turned to the side so that you could see his heavily stubbled cheeks. His hair was wet and slicked back, and there were telltale wet spots on his t-shirt, evidence that he’d recently showered. Thank you for putting a shirt on before you sent this, otherwise I would have dropped my phone. 

You thought for a few seconds and then typed a message back, chewing on the inside of your cheek the entire time. 

Up to you. I like how it looks either way, Pero. 

Truthfully, you wanted him to keep the stubble, and it was for a selfish reason. You wanted to feel it when he kissed you, the scrape of it dragging over your skin. The thought made you shiver, and sent you back to the memory of kissing him at his front door, Pero nuzzling against your cheek before whispering goodbye. 

But I have to say I’m partial to you keeping it. 

It took him a few seconds to respond, but when he did, it was just a single word, followed almost a minute later with another short message. 

Done. 

See you soon. 

You parked where Lin had instructed you to and then made your way up to the front door, carrying the box of gifts. After knocking once, you stepped inside, calling out for your friends. They didn’t answer, so you went into the living room and put the packages beneath the tree, standing back to admire the way it looked as you removed your coat. “You look amazing.” Turning your head toward the sound, you grinned at Lin, who was standing in the doorway. “He’s going to love that outfit.” Is he? 

You’d opted for a pair of high-waisted pants in a soft material, and a dark red long-sleeved shirt that had a lower cut neckline than you typically wore - but that had caught your eye while you finished shopping. You’d paired it with simple jewelry - a pair of necklaces and a sparkling bracelet on one wrist. It was likely more dressed down than many of the other party attendees would be, but you wanted to be comfortable… and ready, just in case. “I hope so.” You looked down and then back up at her, closing your eyes and inhaling deeply. “I almost wore a dress, but it’s cold out, and I bought a new pair of boots but they wouldn’t have matched, so -”

“It’s perfect.” She stepped forward, reaching out to take your hands. “He’ll be here soon, William said he’s on his way.” Good. I’m excited. “Are you coming over tomorrow? We’ll be eating at four, and I think Tovar’s said he’ll come, too.” You hadn’t expected that; Pero had never been at a holiday gathering before, and part of you wondered if he’d opted not to come because you’d been invited. Not this year though. 

“I am.” You squeezed her hands and then pulled yours free, gesturing at the tree. “I put your presents under there, so we can open them after we eat.” She nodded, eyeing you up and down. “What?” 

“You look different.” Cocking her head to the side, she crossed her arms. “You haven’t said anything about what happened after the concert, but -”

“We’ll see what happens after tonight.” Your heart thumped, but you looked her in the eyes while you spoke. “I don’t want to jinx anything, Lin. But he and I will have time to talk, and -” You both turned toward the sound of the front door opening and closing, followed by the sound of heavy footsteps in the front hall. He’s here. 

“Tovar? Is that you? We’re in here!” Lin spoke up before you could, and only moments later, you watched as Pero stepped into the room, unzipping his jacket. You opened your mouth to say hello, but froze when you saw what he was wearing. 

Oh, he looks … I’ve never seen him dressed like … 

He’d kept the stubble. And even though his hair was styled, it still looked a little wild, the ends of it curling over his forehead and out from behind his ears. But it was his outfit that rendered you speechless. 

It did have plenty of buttons; Pero’s dress shirt was a charcoal gray color that had a slight shine to it, the material stretched over his broad frame - unbuttoned at the neck and tucked into a pair of fitted black pants. He’d traded his usual boots for dressier ones,  and when you brought your gaze back up, you watched as he reached over to set his jacket down on the back of a chair. 

That gave you a peek at his chest and wrist, and you actually gasped out loud at the glimpse you got of two pieces of silver jewelry: a thick chain around his neck, and one in the same style - though thinner - around his right wrist. 

You suddenly felt wildly underdressed, but when you watched his eyes widen as he looked you over, that changed. He looked at you with want, Pero’s gaze almost hungry as he closed the distance between you. I need him to look at me like that all the time. I need … wow.

“Hello.” Pero stopped just before he reached where you stood, turning his head toward Lin and smiling. “You look beautiful, Lin-Mae.” She gave him a wide smile and stepped forward, throwing her arms around him and telling him that he was being too kind. 

“I’ve had this dress for years. It was a gift from my mother right after William and I got married. I only wear it for special occasions.” 

“And you.” He turned back to you, reaching out for your hand and waiting until you took his to speak again. “Perfect.” That was a stretch, but you weren’t going to correct him. You maintained eye contact as he raised your hand to his lips, kissing your knuckles. “Hi.” Mouthing the word back at him, it took everything in you not to take the final two steps forward and pull him close for a kiss. 

“William is in his office.” Lin sighed. “You should go and see if he’s ready, Tovar. We have to leave in like fifteen minutes, so -” He nodded, giving your hand one final squeeze before dropping it. “We’ll be in the kitchen.” 

He turned away and toward the office while you and Lin went into the kitchen and took seats at the raised countertop. She stared at you but didn’t speak, and when she raised an eyebrow, you held up a hand. “Don’t even start. That was -”

“It’s good to see him like that with someone.” She spoke quietly, sighing as she reached over to put her hand on top of yours. “I’ve been hoping that he would open up. And it looks like he has.” She smiled at you. “And after only two nights? Impressive.” 

“Technically three, because we went out for coffee before the fundraiser. And a morning, because I spent the night at his place after the concert.” She gasped, and you had to bite your lip to hold back a laugh. Surprise. “Not like that. We just slept.” 

“And you didn’t tell me?” She scoffed. “I thought we were friends.” 

“We are. But that isn’t something that -”

“Was it all a lie?” You both turned toward the sound of his voice, finding Pero standing in the kitchen entryway with a small stack of papers in his hand. “Was any of the time you spent with me because you wanted to?”

“What?” You stood, taking a half step toward him. “Pero, what are you -” He held up the papers, sneering. 

“You are on the payroll, no? This is just a job to you? I am just a job to you?” He tightened his grip on the paper, the sound of it wrinkling loud in your ears. The contract. He found the contract. 

“It had to be official, yeah, because William needed to file it, so -” He laughed, the sound humorless, and then closed his eyes. “So I signed a contract, but -”

“I have paid women before.” He looked nowhere but at you when he opened his eyes, and you sucked in a breath at the hurt you saw in them. He isn’t mad. He’s just sad. I didn’t … but it’s just incidentals. Not paying me to … “But with them I knew exactly what I was getting.” He crossed the room and slapped the papers down onto the countertop before meeting your eyes again. “I trusted you. I told you things I have never told anyone. And for what?” He shook his head. “Enjoy your money. You will not need to spend more time with me tonight to earn the last of it.” 

William appeared in the hallway then, holding another stack of papers, the sound of Pero’s name spilling from his lips. “Tovar, you need to look at -”

“No. I need to look at nothing. All of you… you all knew. You planned this and did not tell me.” He pointed a finger at William. “I will finish this job tonight, but then I am done.” You gasped at that, and so did Lin. Even William’s eyes widened, his mouth still open. This makes no sense. That’s not what we … 

“Pero, please.” William moved forward, holding up the papers again. “If you just -” But instead of answering, he gave you one final look and then turned away, striding past William and back into the hallway. Moments later, the sound of the front door slamming made you flinch. He left. He left me here and he … 

“William, what the fuck just happened?” Lin got up, making her way to where her husband stood. “Tovar was fine in the living room, and then …” 

You finally moved, reaching for the papers that Pero had set down in front of you as your eyes welled up with tears. It doesn’t make sense. Yes, I took this as a job, but it isn’t… that’s not what … 

But when you started reading the top sheet of paper, it all made sense. 

Somehow, Pero had gotten his hands on the original version of the contract William had presented to you - and not on the updated one. 

Stay tuned for part 4!

[perotovar]

I love your love for Pero!! What is your favorite trope for that lovely, grumpy man??

AHHH i really do omg he gets so overlooked and it makes me sad 😭

i'll be honest, i'll read pretty much anything when it comes to pero lmao like, even things i didn't think i would normally enjoy? like, i've read kidfics/pregnancy fics with him (which is a huge ick for me normally), i've read monsterfucking, i've read time travel, modern au, literally anything lmao

but i think my favorite is when there's a little bit of magic or mysticism involved. i love watching this grumpy, hardened fighter be faced with something he can't control/understand. something he can't take care of with his blade. i love seeing all facets of his character. we only got so much in the movie (which is a guilty pleasure if i'm honest, i thought it was fun and matt damon was easy to ignore for me lol) we only saw him in one small part of his life that heightened emotions i'm sure he doesn't deal with all the time. i just know he's got his soft/vulnerable moments once in a while. i'm actually writing something for him that kind of deals with this.

so, basically, i wanna see him in like, any and every scenario lol

[titabel]

this was beautiful🥹

THE DANCING PRINCESS AND HER SELLSWORD

Pairings : pedro pascal (pero tovar) x genevieve!reader

Genre : f/m, AU : Use of Y/N for reader, last name is Lovelei, inspired by/based on Genevieve from Barbie : 12 Dancing Princesses, said to have hair, overwhelming amount of fluff, Pero being soft, slow burn romance? princess x bodyguard au

Synopsis : In where two mercenaries find themselves hired to guard 12 princesses.

Word Count : 23.6k (wow, my longest fic yet!)

Taglist : none yet

Moodboard :

-----

The massive gates of the Lovelei castle creaked open, revealing a path that led through neatly trimmed hedges, a long stone driveway that wound up toward the grandeur of the castle itself. The moment Pero Tovar and William Garin dismounted their horses, they were greeted by several attendants who guided them into the heart of the kingdom.

Pero’s eyes scanned the castle grounds with a professional sharpness; he had been to his fair share of noble homes, but the Lovelei estate seemed almost otherworldly in its splendor. Tall spires reached toward the heavens, and ornate banners fluttered in the wind, adorned with a symbol that only the most refined could recognize, the crest of House Lovelei. This was a kingdom of great importance.

William, ever the observant one, looked just as impressed, though he kept his usual reserved demeanor. “Quite the place.” He muttered to Pero.

“More than just a castle, it’s the home of royalty.” Pero replied quietly, his gaze never straying from their surroundings.

When they reached the castle's front steps, a servant dressed in fine silks greeted them with a deep bow. “Welcome to Lovelei Castle, sirs. His Majesty, King Randolph Lovelei, is expecting you.”

The men nodded in return, following the servant inside where the scent of fresh roses lingered in the air. The walls were lined with portraits of past kings, queens, and noble families, each framed in golden relief. Everything in the castle spoke of wealth, power, and history. Pero couldn't help but feel the weight of the moment. As they entered a large hall, they were ushered to a throne room where King Randolph Lovelei sat upon a grand golden throne, his crown a testament to his status. His regal figure was imposing, yet there was a warmth in his presence that made him approachable. His eyes, a piercing shade of gray, softened as he looked up at his new bodyguards, his lips curling into a welcoming smile.

“Ah, gentlemen, welcome to my kingdom.” King Randolph said with a voice that was deep and resonant, his tone carrying both authority and kindness. “It is an honor to have you here. Please, come forward.”

Pero and William both bowed, but it was the Spaniard who spoke first, ever the more direct of the two. “Your Majesty, it is a privilege to be in your presence. We are here to serve and protect, as you requested.”

King Randolph stood from his throne, his tall figure commanding the room. “I trust the journey was not too taxing?”

“Not at all.” William replied, his usual calmness punctuating his words. “The ride was long, but we’ve been on longer.”

“Well, I’m glad to hear that. You’ll find the castle’s accommodations more than suitable for the both of you.” The king gestured to two ornate chairs nearby, allowing them to sit. “I understand you’re here to guard my daughters. Twelve of them, in fact.”

“Twelve?” Pero asked, his brow raising in surprise as he glanced toward William. He had heard of large families, but twelve daughters? That was something he hadn’t expected.

King Randolph chuckled at their expressions. “Yes, twelve. Not all are here today, mind you. But each one has their own strengths and personality. It’s a challenge, but one I take great pride in.” He paused, looking thoughtful. “As you might imagine, it’s not easy keeping them all safe, especially with the number of suitors and... shall we say, unsavory individuals who tend to seek their attention.”

William nodded, his serious gaze shifting slightly as he processed the situation. “It must be an interesting dynamic, with so many daughters.”

“The word 'interesting' is an understatement.” King Randolph said with a hint of laughter in his voice. “Each of them is as different as the next. Some are quiet and reserved, others are bold and adventurous. Some prefer the peace of the garden; others, the thrill of a sword fight. You’ll need to be prepared for anything.”

Pero leaned forward, his curiosity piqued. “It sounds like quite the task, Your Majesty. But if there’s one thing we do well, it’s managing challenges.”

“You’ll find my daughters are not easily impressed.” The king warned, though his smile never wavered. “But they are loyal and fiercely protective of each other. The job will be no less difficult than it is rewarding.”

“Understood, Your Majesty.” Pero said with a firm nod. “We’ll do our duty to ensure their safety.”

“But there is one thing you should know.” King Randolph continued, his voice softening slightly as if imparting something important. “While they are capable in their own right, some are also... young. The world outside these walls is dangerous, and I trust you will be there for them, not just as protectors but as mentors. They’ll need guidance and protection..”

“We’ll make sure to keep her safe, Your Majesty.” The Spaniard assured him, his tone serious and firm. "All of them."

The king nodded, a satisfied smile on his face. “Good. I trust you both will be up to the task. You’ll find your rooms prepared. Take the evening to settle in. Tomorrow, we’ll have a feast in your honor, and you’ll meet my daughters in person.”

As Pero and William stood to leave, Pero’s thoughts lingered on their new jobs as bodyguards to 12 royal princesses. After all, protecting royalty was never as simple as it seemed, especially when that royalty had a mind of her own. And as they made their way down the grand corridors, the Spaniard felt a sense of anticipation stir within him. 

This was only the beginning.

-----

The next morning, the sun shone brightly over the Lovelei castle, casting a golden glow across its vast gardens. The air carried the scent of fresh roses and lavender, a soft breeze rustling the leaves of the grand oaks that lined the pathways. Birds chirped cheerfully, and in the distance, the faint laughter of young women filled the air.

King Randolph stood at the castle’s entrance, awaiting Pero Tovar and William Garin as they approached. Dressed in their usual travel-worn attire, the two men carried themselves with their usual guarded confidence. Pero, ever the skeptic, had spent the morning wondering what exactly they had signed up for. William, more composed, was simply taking things as they came.

“Good morning, gentlemen.” The king kindly greeted, his deep voice warm. “I trust you slept well?”

“Well enough.” William answered politely.

Pero gave a short nod. “No complaints.”

“Good.” The king said with a small chuckle. “You will need your energy. Today, you will meet my daughters.”

At that, Pero shot William a glance. Though they had been warned about the number the night before, the reality of it still hadn’t quite sunk in. Twelve princesses. Twelve young noblewomen who, if they were anything like the highborn ladies Pero had encountered before, would be more trouble than any army. The Spaniard was no stranger to difficult jobs, to the presence of royals and their delicate ways, but he had never been tasked with protecting twelve princesses at once. Twelve. He glanced at William Garin, who stood beside him with his usual stoic expression, arms crossed over his chest.

"This is madness." Pero muttered under his breath. "How are we supposed to guard twelve of them?"

William merely smirked. "You wanted a job that pays well, didn’t you?"

Pero grunted, adjusting the belt of his sword. He had fought off hordes of enemies in his lifetime, bandits, mercenaries, soldiers, even monstrous creatures, but the idea of keeping twelve noblewomen out of trouble seemed an even greater challenge.

“Come.” The king said, gesturing for them to follow. “They are in the gardens.”

The three men walked through the grand hallways of the castle, down spiral staircases, past sunlit corridors, and through tall double doors that led outside. The castle gardens stretched far beyond what Pero and William had imagined, lush green lawns, carefully sculpted hedges, and a massive stone fountain in the center. Vibrant flowers in every shade of pink, purple, and gold bloomed along the pathways. It was a place of beauty, untouched by war, unspoiled by the world outside.

The duo mercenaries barely had a moment to take in the scenery before they spotted them, the princesses.

Scattered throughout the garden, a group of young women, each dressed in elegant yet light gowns, were engaged in various activities. Some sat beneath the shade of the trees, reading books. Others picked flowers, weaving them into delicate crowns. A few played sports as they competitively tried to win over one another. One girl with auburn curls was perched atop the fountain’s edge, kicking her feet idly in the water while humming a soft tune. Another, a brunette with an inquisitive gaze, was deeply focused on a chessboard set on a marble table.

And then, in the center of it all, was her.

Princess Y/N Lovelei.

Pero didn’t know who she was at first, at least, not until he noticed how the other girls seemed to follow her lead, how they gravitated toward her even as they went about their activities. She was different from the rest, somehow. Her long hair, intricately braided with dark pink ribbons, shimmered in the sunlight. Her gentle soft eyes held a quiet confidence, an unspoken strength. She was dressed in a flowing pink and white gown, elegant yet practical for movement. And at that moment, she was moving.

Dancing.

With effortless grace, the eldest princess twirled across the garden’s stone path, her steps light as air, her gown flowing with each spin. Every movement was precise, calculated, and yet utterly free. She wasn’t performing for an audience; she was lost in the music of the moment, in the joy of simply moving. The way she carried herself, the effortless elegance in each movement, was enough to hold anyone’s gaze. But Pero saw more than beauty, he saw precision, control, and discipline.

As if sensing their presence, the princess stopped mid-spin, her sweet gentle eyes locking onto the newest arrivals at the garden with an assessing gaze. “Father!” She called, her voice light and warm. She quickly made her way over, her steps quick but graceful. The other princesses, noticing her approach, turned their attention toward the new arrivals as well, whispering amongst themselves.

King Randolph extended a hand toward Pero and William. “My daughters, come meet your new bodyguards.”

Y/N stopped in front of them first, her gaze immediately locking onto the mercenaries. She tilted her head slightly, studying them with an appraising look before offering a polite curtsy. “You must be the new bodyguards. It is a pleasure to meet both of you. I hope our kingdom is to your liking.” She said, a teasing lilt in her voice. By now, the rest of the princesses had gathered around. They ranged in ages and temperaments, each one bringing a unique energy to the group.

King Randolph took a step forward. “Girls, these are Pero Tovar and William Garin. They are highly skilled warriors and have agreed to serve as your protectors.”

A blonde girl, probably one of the youngest, peered up at Pero with curious gentle eyes. “Are you a knight?”

“No.” Pero replied bluntly. “I’m a soldier.”

The girl blinked, then turned to her eldest whisper before cupping her hands on the sides of her mouth to whisper to her. “I like him. He’s honest.”

The eldest princess laughed softly before returning her attention to Pero. “I hope you’re ready for a challenge.”

Pero raised a brow. “I was about to say the same to you.”

The air between them crackled with something unspoken, curiosity, intrigue, perhaps even the first sparks of a battle neither had yet realized they were about to fight. King Randolph, pleased by the interaction, clapped his hands together. “Good. Now that you’ve all been introduced, I’ll leave you to get acquainted. Pero, William, do try to keep up. These girls are not as fragile as they seem.”

With that, the king strode away, leaving the two men standing among a sea of princesses, each one more unpredictable than the last.

Pero exhaled through his nose, shaking his head slightly. “Twelve daughters.” He muttered under his breath.

William smirked. “Told you it’d be interesting.”

Princess Y/N grinned. “Welcome to our world, gentlemen.”

And with that, the real challenge began.

-----

The gardens of Castle Lovelei were a sight to behold, sprawling fields of roses, lavender, and lilies stretching out under the warm afternoon sun. Ivy climbed along the stone archways, weaving between marble statues of noble ancestors long past. The air carried the fragrance of blooming flowers, mixed with the gentle spray of water from the great fountain in the center.

Pero Tovar stood at the edge of the garden, arms crossed, his sharp eyes scanning the area. William Garin stood beside him, leaning against a tree with his usual calm demeanor, his gaze flickering over the twelve princesses scattered about.

The younger ones giggled as they played a game of tag through the flowerbeds. The older ones sat in the shaded pavilion, chattering and laughing over tea. But it was Princess Y/N who caught Pero’s attention. Again. 

She was by the fountain, completely unaware of his gaze.

With the lightest of steps, she moved in a slow, graceful ballet, her dark pink gown flowing around her like water. Her hair, braided neatly with ribbons, swayed as she twirled, her gentle eyes focused ahead, lost in a world of her own.

Pero wasn’t one to appreciate dance, but something about the way she moved was different. There was precision in her steps, control in the way she lifted herself onto her toes, then landed without a sound. It was like watching a battle fought without swords, a display of power hidden beneath elegance.

At her feet, three of her youngest sisters, the triplets, watched in awe. Dressed in matching pastel gowns, they attempted to copy their eldest sister’s movements, their small feet stumbling as they tried to twirl like her.

"Like this!" One of them chirped, lifting her arms in an arch above her head.

"No, no! She bends her knees first before spinning!" Another triplet corrected.

Y/N paused mid-step, turning to watch them with a fond smile. She knelt, adjusting one of their postures, guiding them with a gentle hand. "You're close." She encouraged them. "But don’t rush the movement. Feel the rhythm, like the wind moving through the trees."

The girls nodded eagerly, their tiny faces filled with determination as they tried again.

Pero exhaled through his nose, shaking his head.

"What's wrong?" William asked, following his gaze.

"She’s too free-spirited." Pero muttered. "Dancing in the open like that, she doesn’t even think about the dangers."

William chuckled. "You see a threat everywhere, my friend. She’s just enjoying herself."

Pero grunted but didn’t look away. His job was to guard them, but why did his eyes keep returning to Y/N alone?

She turned then, catching his gaze.

For a moment, neither of them looked away. Her lips curled slightly, as if she knew he had been watching all along. Then, in a movement as effortless as the breeze, she extended her hand toward him in invitation.

"Would you like to dance, Master Tovar?"

Pero’s brows shot up. "What?"

William laughed, slapping him on the shoulder. "Go on. Show us your skill."

Pero scoffed. "I don’t dance."

The eldest princess tilted her head, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "I can teach you."

Pero narrowed his eyes. "I’d rather fight a hundred men than let you teach me to prance around like a fool."

Y/N only giggled, undeterred. "A shame. I think you’d be quite good at it."

Pero grumbled something in Spanish under his breath as she twirled away, returning to her dance. But even as he resumed his post, he found himself watching her again, unable to look away.

-----

The grand dining hall of Castle Lovelei glowed with the warmth of candlelight, the long table adorned with golden candelabras, polished silverware, and trays of decadent dishes. King Randolph Lovelei sat at the head of the table, his regal presence softened by the warm smile he reserved only for his daughters. One by one, the twelve princesses arrived, each greeting their father with a kiss on the cheek before taking their designated seats. The younger ones giggled as they settled in, while the older ones engaged in light conversation, the sound of their voices blending into a harmonious melody of familial affection.

Pero Tovar and William Garin stood near the entrance, keeping a watchful eye on the room, their hands resting instinctively near their weapons. Pero had been in noble courts before, but there was something different about Castle Lovelei. It was not just a place of power, it was a home, filled with warmth, laughter, and the gentle hum of a family’s love.

Yet, as the last of the princesses took her seat, a noticeable absence became clear.

Randolph Lovelei exhaled through his nose, amusement flickering in his deep-set eyes as he glanced toward the empty chair beside him, the one belonging to his eldest daughter.

"Y/N is late again." The king mused, though there was no anger in his tone. "No doubt caught up in her dancing."

The other princesses exchanged knowing glances, some stifling giggles as they’ve already expected this would happen again. Randolph then turned his gaze to Pero Tovar, who immediately stiffened under the weight of royal attention.

"Master Tovar." The king said kindly. "Would you be so kind as to fetch my eldest from the gardens? I fear she has once again lost herself in her ballet."

Pero barely held back a sigh. He had already suspected as much.

William smirked beside him, nudging him with an elbow. "Looks like you’re her official keeper now."

Pero shot him a glare before giving a curt nod to the king. "I’ll bring her in."

With that, he turned on his heel and made his way through the castle, following the now-familiar path to the gardens.

The night was cool, a gentle breeze rustling through the flowers, carrying the soft scent of roses and lavender. The stars shone brightly above, their light reflecting off the still waters of the great fountain.

And there, as expected, was Y/N Lovelei.

She stood on the stone path before the fountain, completely unaware of the passage of time. Her arms extended gracefully, her delicate fingers carving unseen patterns in the air. With each movement, her dark pink gown swayed, the fabric catching the moonlight.

Pero paused in the shadows, arms crossed, watching.

She truly was something else, fearless, free-spirited, and utterly lost in her own world. There was a discipline to her movements that reminded him of a well-trained warrior, yet there was also a softness, a lightness that made it seem as though she was floating rather than dancing.

Finally, he let out a sharp breath. "Princesa."

Y/N startled mid-spin, nearly losing her footing before steadying herself. Her wide, violet-blue eyes turned to him, blinking in surprise. Then, as if realizing the situation, a sheepish smile played on her lips.

"Oh…" She said lightly, brushing stray strands of hair from her face. "Let me guess. I’m late again?"

Pero narrowed his eyes. "Your father sent me to drag you inside before you starve at your own dinner table."

Y/N laughed softly, not at all fazed by his gruff tone. "I suppose I did lose track of time." She bent down to adjust the ribbons on her slippers, then rose to her full height, dusting off her gown. "But in my defense." She continued playfully, "I was in the middle of something important."

"Important?" Pero scoffed. "Prancing around in the dark?"

The eldest princess gasped, feigning offense. "It’s not prancing! It’s a highly skilled and disciplined art, Master Tovar." She placed a hand over her heart dramatically. "You wound me with your words."

Pero grumbled under his breath. "Enough of this nonsense. Let’s go." He turned on his heel, expecting her to follow. But after a few steps, he realized she wasn’t moving. He glanced over his shoulder, his brow furrowing. "Princesa…"

Princess Y/N was still standing by the fountain, her hands clasped behind her back, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "I’ll come," she said. "But on one condition."

Pero sighed, already regretting asking. "What?"

The eldest Lovelei princess tilted her head, her hair shimmering under the moonlight. "Dance with me first."

Pero groaned. "Not this again."

She grinned. "Just one turn. And then I promise I’ll go inside like a proper princess."

The Spaniard crossed his arms, staring her down with a raised eyebrow. "I don’t dance."

Y/N took a step closer, amusement dancing in her gaze as she doesn’t feel threatened at all under his scrutinizing glare. "That’s exactly why you should try."

Pero let out a long, frustrated sigh. He could think of a hundred better things to be doing right now, patrolling the castle walls, sharpening his sword, even sparring with William or indulging himself with the lavish meals served for dinner, but the way she looked at him, so full of mischief and challenge, made it hard to say no.

Finally, with an exasperated shake of his head, he muttered. "One turn."

The princess beamed. "I knew you had it in you."

She stepped closer, gently taking his calloused hand in her own. He stiffened slightly at the contact, unaccustomed to such softness.

"Just follow my lead," she whispered.

And, for the first time in his life, Pero Tovar danced.

And couldn’t help but feel like a fool.

His boots were too heavy, his stance too rigid, and the very idea of twirling about in the moonlight felt utterly ridiculous. He was a warrior, not some courtly noble trained in the ways of elegant dancing. And yet, here he was, standing in the middle of the garden, his hand clasped in the princess’ as she guided him through a slow, graceful waltz.

"Relax." Princess Y/N said, her voice light and teasing. "Dancing is about feeling the rhythm, not overthinking it."

Pero scoffed, his expression skeptical. "I’m not overthinking. I just don’t do this."

Y/N only smiled. "You are now." She took the lead effortlessly, her steps precise and fluid as she coaxed him into movement. At first, Pero’s footing was clumsy, his grip on her hand hesitant, but she was patient. She moved with such ease, like a leaf drifting on the wind, and somehow, without even realizing it, he found himself adjusting to match her pace.

Their movements became smoother, more synchronized.

The Spaniard caught on to the rhythm of their steps, the gentle forward and backward sway, the subtle shifting of weight, the way the princess’ gown swirled around her ankles like liquid silk. And then, without thinking, he did something that surprised even himself.

He twirled her.

The princess gasped softly, caught off guard yet delighted. Her skirts flared out as she spun beneath the moonlight, the glow casting silver highlights in her braids. When she returned to face him, her deep gentle eyes shimmered with excitement. "Well done, Master Tovar." She said breathlessly.

Pero huffed, a hint of smugness creeping into his smirk. "Lucky guess."

Y/N laughed. "Try it again."

This time, he didn’t hesitate. He led her into another twirl, then another, growing more confident in his steps. His grip on her waist steadied, his movements becoming less rigid and more natural. The warrior in him understood balance, control, and precision, dancing, he realized, was not so different from battle. It was about timing, trust, and instinct.

And Princess Y/N? She was a perfect dance partner.

She guided him without force, allowing him to take control when he was ready. Their laughter mixed with the soft rustling of the trees, their breath visible in the cool night air. The entire world seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of them moving in effortless harmony beneath the stars.

Pero had never felt this before, this lightness, this strange, unexpected joy. For the first time in a long while, he wasn’t thinking about war or duty or survival. He wasn’t worrying about guarding a castle or keeping reckless princesses out of trouble. He was simply dancing. And, somehow, that was enough.

As their waltz came to a natural end, Y/N looked up at him, her cheeks flushed, her smile radiant. "You’re not bad at this, you know." She murmured.

Pero chuckled, shaking his head. "Don’t tell Garin. He’ll never let me live it down."

The princess giggled, squeezing his hand once before stepping back. "Your secret is safe with me, Master Tovar."

The Spaniard cleared his throat, suddenly aware of how close they had been standing. The warmth of her hand still lingered against his own, and the way she gazed at him, soft yet full of mischief, made something stir in his chest.

But before he could dwell on it, she took his arm with a playful tug. "Come now." She said, leading him toward the castle. "If we don’t return soon, my father will send the entire guard to retrieve me."

Pero exhaled through his nose, falling into step beside her.

As they made their way back to the grand halls of Castle Lovelei, Pero realized something with a quiet sense of amusement.

He wouldn’t mind dancing with her again.

Not one bit.

-----

Later that evening, after dinner had settled and the castle had quieted into a peaceful lull, Pero Tovar and William Garin began their routine patrol around the palace grounds. The halls of Castle Lovelei were grand and lined with torches that flickered in the night, casting long shadows across the walls. The two warriors moved through the corridors with the ease of men accustomed to watching over something precious, their footsteps steady, their senses sharp.

But tonight, something was different.

As they walked past the vast gardens, the same place where Pero had danced with the eldest princess, William Garin’s ears caught something unusual.

Humming.

Not just any humming, but the same melody Princess Y/N Lovelei had been dancing ballet to earlier by the fountains.

And the culprit?

Pero Tovar.

William slowed his steps, turning his head slightly, just to make sure he wasn’t hearing things. But no, there it was again. The deep, gravelly hum of his oldest companion, following the exact tune that the eldest princess had so gracefully moved to. A slow grin spread across William’s face. “Well, well.” The Irishman drawled, crossing his arms over his chest as he stopped in his tracks. “I never thought I’d see the day Pero Tovar hums a melody fit for a ballroom.”

Pero instantly cut off the tune, his expression hardening into a scowl. He kept walking, his shoulders stiffening as if that would somehow dismiss the moment. “You’re hearing things.”

William scoffed, falling into step beside him. “No, no, I’m quite sure I heard correctly. In fact.” He tilted his head playfully. “Wasn’t that the very song Princess Y/N danced to earlier today? The one you so eagerly watched?”

Pero exhaled sharply through his nose. “You talk too much, Garin.”

William smirked, ever the relentless one when he sensed something worth teasing. “Oh, but this is interesting. Here I thought you had no patience for the delicate ways of the court, and yet I find you not only humming a ballet tune but also escorting a certain princess back to dinner after what I suspect was a rather private moment in the gardens.”

Pero grumbled something under his breath and picked up his pace. William only laughed, keeping up effortlessly. “So tell me, did she teach you a few steps?” The Irishman nudged him playfully. “Did you spin her beneath the moonlight like one of those fairy tales?”

Pero stopped walking altogether and shot William a glare that might have made a lesser man flinch. “Drop it.”

But William had been his friend for far too long to be intimidated by Pero’s temper. If anything, it only amused him further. “Oh, come on now. There’s no shame in it. Princess Y/N is a remarkable woman, beautiful, graceful, and kind. I imagine any man would be drawn to her.” He gave Pero a knowing glance. “Even a gruff, battle-worn soldier like yourself.”

Pero clenched his jaw. “She is a princess. I am her guard. That is all.”

William raised an eyebrow. “Is it?”

Pero said nothing, only resuming his patrol with an irritated huff.

William, ever the persistent one, let the silence stretch for a few moments before finally sighing. “Fine, I’ll drop it.” Then, just as Pero was beginning to relax, he added. “For now.”

Pero groaned, running a hand down his face as William chuckled beside him.

The teasing would not end anytime soon.

And worse?

For the rest of their patrol, the tune of Princess Y/N’s ballet refused to leave Pero’s mind.

-----

The sun cast its golden glow over Castle Lovelei, painting the sky in hues of pink and orange. Inside the princesses’ chambers, the morning routine was already in full swing, brushes smoothing through golden and chestnut locks, corsets being fastened, and laughter echoing through the grand dressing room. Princess Y/N Lovelei stood before her mirror, humming softly as she combed through her hair, a dreamy smile curving her lips. Her movements were slower than usual, almost as if she were lost in a memory, one that made her heart flutter and her cheeks warm.

And her sisters noticed.

It started with Ashlyn, the second eldest and the most observant among them. She set down her perfume bottle and raised a brow at Y/N’s expression. “You look… different this morning, dear sister.” She mused.

Lacey, one of the younger triplets, perked up from across the room, tying a ribbon in her hair. “Oh! She does! Look at that smile! Like she’s dreaming of something sweet.”

“Or someone.” Hadley added with a teasing grin.

Soon, the entire room erupted in giggles as all eleven princesses turned to their eldest sister with knowing smirks.

Y/N blinked, her humming ceasing as she looked around in confusion. “What?”

“Oh, nothing.” Janessa drawled dramatically. “Only that you seem to be positively glowing this morning.”

“You never wake up looking this happy.” Kathleen pointed out, crossing her arms. “You’re usually groaning about how you wish you could sleep in longer.”

“Or sneaking in a few last-minute dance steps before breakfast.” Courtney added.

Kathleen, one of the younger sisters, gasped suddenly, her eyes widening in realization. “Wait a moment… Could it be?”

“It must be!” Delia giggled.

“Oh, don’t keep us waiting, dear sister.” Edeline chimed in, her emerald eyes glinting with mischief. “Tell us, who is he?”

Y/N’s face turned an unmistakable shade of pink as she turned back toward her mirror, trying (and failing) to compose herself. “I…There is no ‘he.’ I don’t know what you’re all talking about.” But her sisters weren’t convinced.

“Aha! That means there is someone!” Blair grinned triumphantly.

“Who is the lucky man?” Delia pressed, inching closer. “Is he from the court? A noble?”

“Maybe one of the knights?” Fallon suggested.

“Or perhaps…” Courtney trailed off dramatically before whispering, “One of our new bodyguards?”

That made the eldest princess freeze. Her grip on her comb tightened, her heart skipping a beat. The moment of hesitation did not go unnoticed. A collective gasp filled the room as the sisters exchanged wide-eyed looks. “It is one of the bodyguards!” Lacey squealed.

Y/N turned around quickly, feeling her face now getting warm. “Alright, that’s enough teasing!” But her reaction only confirmed their suspicions.

“Oh, sister, this is so exciting!” Edeline clapped her hands together.

“So, who is it?” Courtney demanded. “Sir Garin or Sir Tovar?”

The eldest Lovelei daughter felt the heat crawl up her neck as she sputtered, “I…I…”

“Sir Tovar.” Ashlyn answered knowingly, smirking at the way their sister was beginning to panic. The sisters burst into another round of delighted giggles.

“Oh, Y/N!” Isla swooned. “A rugged, brooding warrior? How romantic!”

“A mercenary at that,” Fallon added, feigning shock. “A forbidden love story in the making!”

Y/N groaned, burying her face in her hands as her sisters giggled and squealed around her.

Little did they know, outside the chamber door, Pero Tovar had been passing through the hall when he caught the unmistakable sound of their playful shrieks. He paused briefly, raising a suspicious brow. Something told him the princesses were up to something. And if his name was being tossed around in the midst of it… he wasn’t sure if he should be concerned or amused. With a shake of his head, he muttered under his breath and continued walking.

Whatever it was, he had a feeling he would find out soon enough.

The grand dining hall of Castle Lovelei was already filled with the warm scent of freshly baked bread, sweet honeyed fruit, and the rich aroma of roasted meats. Golden sunlight streamed through the towering windows, casting a soft glow upon the long, polished dining table where King Randolph Lovelei sat, waiting for his daughters to join him.

The sound of light footsteps and soft giggles filled the corridor leading to the hall as the twelve princesses, adorned in their morning gowns, made their way inside.

Princess Y/N Lovelei walked ahead of her sisters, her heart still fluttering from the morning's relentless teasing. She had managed to escape the conversation after much protest, but their knowing smirks and side glances had not wavered in the slightest.

As they neared the grand doors to the dining hall, two familiar figures stood at their posts, Sir William Garin and Sir Pero Tovar. The two bodyguards, ever vigilant, stood with their arms crossed, their eyes sweeping across the corridor before falling upon the approaching princesses. The moment the eldest princess spotted them, her face instantly brightened. Her lips curved into a warm, radiant smile as she turned her attention to Pero.

“Good morning, Sir Tovar, Sir Garin!” She greeted cheerfully, her voice carrying the same musical lilt as the song she had been humming earlier.

Pero Tovar, who had been idly adjusting the leather bracer on his arm, turned at the sound of her voice. His dark eyes met hers, and for a brief moment, something flickered in them, something unreadable, something soft. William Garin, on the other hand, immediately noticed the way Y/N’s eyes lingered just a little longer on Pero, and more importantly, the way Pero’s usually gruff expression faltered for half a second before he straightened his stance.

“Good morning, Princess.” The Irishman greeted smoothly, biting back a smirk as he nudged Pero lightly with his elbow. “Isn’t that right, Pero?”

Pero exhaled sharply, side-eyeing his friend before nodding stiffly. “Buenos días, Princesas.”

The simplicity of his response would have been nothing out of the ordinary, except for the fact that his deep voice was not as gruff as usual. It lacked the usual irritation or disinterest he often carried when dealing with royalty.

And Princess Y/N noticed. Her smile widened, her eyes twinkling with something akin to amusement and curiosity. Unfortunately for her, her sisters noticed everything as well.

“Oh my, dear sister.” Ashlyn whispered dramatically, loud enough for only their sisters to hear. “What a bright smile you have this morning.”

“Yes, and look at how happy she is to greet them.” Lacey added with a mischievous giggle.

“How very interesting,” Edeline mused, feigning deep thought.

The eldest princess’ cheeks tinged pink, but she refused to let her sisters get to her again. Instead, she simply turned on her heel and lifted her chin, attempting to walk past them with grace and dignity. But just as she stepped forward, Hadley suddenly whispered, “I wonder if Sir Tovar caught her love-struck humming earlier…”

The usually graceful and careful princess Y/n then stumbled in her steps. She quickly regained her footing, but not before a few of her younger sisters gasped and stifled their giggles behind their hands.

Pero, who had been silently watching, furrowed his brows slightly. “Are you alright, Princesa?”

“I’m fine!” Y/N answered quickly, a little too quickly.

Pero raised a brow at her, clearly unconvinced.

William Garin, meanwhile, was thoroughly enjoying this entire exchange. He smirked knowingly, crossing his arms as he leaned slightly toward Pero. “You must be more careful, Pero. Seems you’re making the princess quite flustered this morning.” The Spaniard’s eyes darkened in warning as he turned his head toward Garin, who merely chuckled in response.

Y/N, deciding that she had suffered enough teasing for the morning, hurriedly walked past the guards and entered the dining hall. Her sisters followed close behind, barely containing their laughter. As they reached the dining table, King Randolph Lovelei greeted them with a warm smile, extending his arms as each of his daughters approached to kiss his cheek before taking their respective seats. But as the eldest princess sat down, her heart still raced from the lingering moment outside. She could still feel Pero’s gaze, steady, searching, unreadable.

And when she dared to glance back toward the grand doors, she found that he was still looking her way.

This time, it was his turn to smirk.

-----

The dining hall of Castle Lovelei buzzed with energy as the twelve princesses enjoyed their breakfast, the warmth of the morning sun filtering through the tall windows. The clinking of silverware and the soft murmur of conversation filled the air, but it wasn’t long before King Randolph Lovelei cleared his throat, drawing the attention of his daughters.

“My dear girls.” He began, his deep and regal voice carrying a warmth that made the princesses look up from their plates. “As you all know, Y/N’s birthday is approaching, and I intend for it to be a truly grand affair, one that will be remembered throughout the kingdom.”

At his words, the eldest princess nearly choked on her tea. She quickly set down her cup, dabbing at her lips with a napkin as her sisters gasped excitedly.

“Oh, Father, it must be the most extravagant ball in all the land!” Ashlyn declared, her hazel eyes sparkling. “Y/N is our eldest sister! She deserves the finest celebration!”

“I agree!” Blair added eagerly. “We must have the grandest banquet, with delicacies from all over the kingdom.”

“And music! A full orchestra, with the finest musicians from the royal court.” Edeline chimed in.

Lacey clapped her hands together. “We should have a breathtaking ballroom theme, something enchanting, like a moonlit garden!”

“Oh, and fireworks!” Hadley and Isla said in unison, their identical faces lighting up.

“Fireworks inside the ballroom?” Y/N asked, raising a brow in amusement and looking at her overly excited sisters.

The twins blinked before shaking their heads. “No, no! Outside, of course,” Hadley corrected. “Just as the clock strikes midnight!”

“And what of the royal guests?” Delia leaned forward, smirking. “Surely, Father, you plan on inviting all the noble families from neighboring kingdoms?”

Randolph chuckled, stroking his beard. “Indeed, I do. It shall be a grand gathering, kings, queens, dukes, duchesses, and their heirs.” His gaze softened as he turned to his eldest daughter. “All coming to celebrate you, my dear.”

Princess Y/N smiled, her heart warmed by her father’s love and her sisters’ enthusiasm. “That all sounds wonderful, truly. But…” She hesitated, her fingers tracing the rim of her teacup. “...it does seem a bit much, does it not?”

Her sisters gasped dramatically.

“A bit much?” Fallon repeated. “Dear sister, this is your birthday! It should be the most magnificent ball of the year!”

“Yes, but I do not need all these extravagant things to enjoy myself.” Y/N said with a soft laugh. “I would be perfectly content dancing the night away with my family and dear friends.”

“That is precisely why it must be perfect!” Courtney, ever the perfectionist, insisted. “Your love for dancing is exactly why this celebration should reflect all that you hold dear.”

Randolph smiled, amused by his daughters’ passionate planning. “Then it is settled. We shall have a magnificent ball, one filled with music, dancing, and all the wonders you could ever dream of, my dear.”

The woman in question merely sighed, but her smile never faded. She knew there was no use in arguing, her sisters were far too invested now. “Very well.” She finally relented. “But please, do not let the preparations become a burden on anyone.”

“Nonsense!” Lacey giggled. “We love planning these things!”

As the princesses continued their discussion, Y/N took a sip of her tea, letting her mind wander for a moment. A grand ball, filled with noble suitors and dignitaries. The thought should have excited her. And yet…Her gaze drifted ever so slightly toward the great hall’s entrance, where Sir Pero Tovar and Sir William Garin remained stationed at their posts.

Unbeknownst to her, the Spaniard had been watching, silently listening to every word spoken.

A birthday ball.

A night filled with dancing.

He exhaled, shaking his head slightly. Dancing again, he thought.

And yet, despite himself, he found his mind betraying him, drifting back to the night before, to the feel of Y/N’s hand in his, the way her laughter had melted away the stiffness in his movements, the way she had twirled effortlessly beneath the moonlight.

Pero clenched his jaw.

He was a soldier. A protector.

Not a dancer.

And certainly not a suitor.

But as the eldest princess’ laughter rang through the hall, as bright as the morning sun, he found himself gripping the hilt of his sword just a little tighter.

-----

The afternoon sun bathed Castle Lovelei’s gardens in golden warmth, the soft rustling of leaves and the occasional chirping of birds blending into a peaceful symphony. The twelve princesses had once again gathered in their favorite outdoor haven, each engaging in her respective hobbies.

The youngest triplet princesses, Janessa, Kathleen and Lacey, were busy roaming the gardens in search for more bugs to add to their collection. The identical twin princesses, Hadley and Isla, were busy giggling to themselves as they circled around the gardens and balancing themselves on their stilts. The other set of older twin princesses, Delia and Edeline, have taken it upon themselves to continue their game of croquet from yesterday. Princess Blair, the third oldest, was not in the gardens and took it upon herself to visit the stables again to see the horses and help the stableboys tend to them. The fourth daughter, Princess Courtney, has taken her usual place underneath the shade of an oak tree with a new book in her hands and is now fully immersed in her brand new story. Then there was Princess Ashlynn and Princess Fallon, the second and seventh daughter, were conversing and having some tea with each other. 

In the midst of all the harmonious scenes, Princess Y/N once again found herself by the grand marble fountains, her slippered feet gliding effortlessly across the stone path as she practiced her new ballet routine. She spun, leaped, and twirled, her long braided hair following her movements like a ribbon caught in the wind. Her heart soared with every graceful step, her mind completely lost in the dance.

That was until…

Rustle.

Y/N’s movements faltered as she caught the faint sound of shifting leaves from the nearby hedges. Her deep blue-violet eyes flickered toward the source of the noise.

Another rustle.

She turned her head, curiosity piqued. Carefully, she stepped toward the thick, well-manicured bushes lining the stone pathway. With delicate fingers, she parted the leaves, peering beyond the greenery. And the sight instantly made her breath hitch. There, nestled between the bushes, was a tiny orange kitten with scruffy, unkempt fur. Its small, fluffy body trembled slightly, and when its big, round amber eyes met hers, it let out a pitiful little meow.

“Oh…” Y/N’s heart clenched at the sight. The poor thing was injured, one of its front paws was curled up, refusing to touch the ground. Gently, she knelt down and carefully extended a hand. “Oh, you poor little dear.” She cooed softly. “Where did you come from?”

The kitten blinked up at her before hesitantly taking a step forward, but it immediately stumbled, letting out another weak mew.

Y/N’s brows knitted together in concern. Without hesitation, she carefully scooped the tiny creature into her arms, cradling it close.

The poor kitten flinched at first but soon melted into her embrace, pressing its tiny face against the soft fabric of her dress.

The princess merely smiled fondly. “There, there… You’re safe now.” She turned back toward the gardens, scanning for her sisters. “Ashlynn! Fallon!” She called out towards two of her younger sisters nearby the fountain.

Her sisters immediately turned their heads. “What is it?” Ashlynn asked, setting aside the teacup she was sipping on.

The eldest princess strode toward them, carefully holding out the injured kitten. “Look what I found.” She said. “The poor thing has a hurt paw.”

Fallon’s eyes widened, and Ashlynn let out a gasp. “Oh, the poor darling!” Ashlynn reached out to gently stroke the kitten’s head. “It looks so hungry, too.”

“Should we take it to the royal veterinarian?” Fallon suggested with a worried tone in her voice.

Before anyone could answer, another voice joined the conversation.

“I’d say it looks like trouble.” The deep, gruff voice of Pero Tovar startled the princesses as he stepped forward, arms crossed. His sharp eyes locked onto the tiny ball of fluff in Y/N’s arms.

“A stray cat?” He muttered, eyeing it warily. “Hmph. And here I thought you princesses only kept elegant creatures like white doves and purebred horses.”

Y/N frowned, hugging the kitten protectively. “Every creature, elegant or not, deserves kindness, Sir Pero.”

The Spaniard huffed, shaking his head. “I didn’t say otherwise. Just don’t let it claw your fancy dress to shreds.”

Ashlynn giggled behind her hand. “I think Sir Pero is scared of the little kitten.”

The princesses laughed, and Pero scowled. “I’m not scared of anything.” He grumbled. “I just know a stray animal can carry trouble.”

The eldest princess ignored his gruff attitude and turned to her sisters. “We need to find some food for it. And perhaps some warm milk.” She brightly smiled, her heart swelling with warmth as she looked down at the kitten. It was already purring against her, its tiny body trusting her completely.

Pero watched the scene unfold, exhaling heavily as he ran a hand down his face.

First, the princess had dragged him into dancing.

Now, she was bringing in wounded strays.

And for some reason, despite himself…

He found that he didn’t mind it.

-----

The little kitten was warm against Princess Y/N’s chest, its tiny body rising and falling with every peaceful breath. It was curled up comfortably in her arms, no longer trembling, though its injured paw remained limp. Every so often, it would let out a faint mew, as if reassuring her it was still there.

Pero Tovar walked beside her, his heavy boots crunching against the gravel path as they made their way toward the royal veterinarian’s quarters. His arms were crossed over his chest, his expression unreadable as he occasionally glanced at the little creature nestled against her. “You sure about this, princesa?” He finally grunted. 

“Taking in a stray? It’s going to need care, training. Not just a warm lap to sleep on.”

Princess Y/N turned to him with a soft smile, her gentle eyes shining with determination. “Of course, I’m sure.” She said. “He needs me.”

Pero scoffed, shaking his head. “That’s a lot of responsibility for someone who already spends too much time twirling around fountains instead of minding the time.”

The princess merely giggled. “And yet you were twirling right alongside me just last night.”

His jaw tightened as she shot him a playful look. Pero let out a gruff sigh, muttering something under his breath as they reached the veterinarian’s door.

The princess gently knocks to make their presence known, and moments later, the door swung open to reveal the castle’s head veterinarian, a kind-faced woman named Lady Edith. Her wise, gentle eyes flickered towards the princess and then down to the small bundle in her arms.

“Oh, dear.” Lady Edith murmured, stepping aside. “Come in, quickly.”

Y/N entered with Pero following behind her with a watchful gaze. They gently laid the kitten on a small cushioned table as Lady Edith immediately got to work, inspecting the tiny creature’s injured paw. She hummed thoughtfully as she pressed along the limb, gauging the kitten’s reaction. The little thing let out a soft whimper but didn’t try to squirm away.

“It’s not broken.” Lady Edith reassured them. “Just sprained. Likely from a fall. A bandage and some rest will do the trick.”

The princess sighed in relief. “That’s wonderful news.”

Pero crossed his arms again. “And the rest of it?”

Lady Edith smiled as she carefully lifted the kitten and set it in a small wooden tub filled with warm water. The little creature flinched at first, but as soon as her gentle hands lathered its fur with a light soap, it let out a deep, satisfied purr. “He’s just a bit dirty and underfed,” The sweet old lady explained as she continued washing away the grime. “Nothing some proper food and care won’t fix.”

Y/N watched with fascination as the once scruffy orange kitten slowly transformed. His fur, now free of dirt, was revealed to be a stunning shade of golden-orange, soft and fluffy like a miniature lion’s mane. Once he was thoroughly cleaned and dried, Lady Edith wrapped his sprained paw with a small bandage and handed him back to the princess. The kitten eagerly curled up in her arms once again, letting out a content purr as if he had already chosen her as his new home. A bright smile stretched across her lips. “I think I shall name him Leon.”

Pero raised an eyebrow. “Leon?”

“Yes…” The princess nodded, gently stroking the kitten’s tiny head. “Because of his beautiful bright fur. He looks like a little lion.”

Lady Edith chuckled. “A fitting name.”

Pero huffed, giving the kitten another glance. “Hmph. More like a tiny nuisance.”

As if understanding the insult, Leon lifted his head, blinking up at Pero before letting out a tiny but determined mew.

Y/N laughed. “I think he disagrees with you, Sir Pero.”

Pero only rolled his eyes. “You’re just lucky he’s small.”

With Leon now clean, bandaged, and comfortably settled in the princess’ arms, she carefully took a small dish of warm milk that Lady Edith had prepared and held it out to him. The kitten immediately perked up, eagerly lapping at the liquid with tiny, enthusiastic flicks of his tongue. Watching the little creature drink so eagerly, Y/N felt warmth bloom in her heart. This tiny being had been hurt, alone, and afraid. But now, he was safe. And he had found a home with her.

Pero observed quietly, his rough exterior softening for just a fraction of a second. “Looks like you’ve got yourself a new shadow, princesa.” He muttered.

Y/N brightly beamed at him. “And I think he rather likes you, too.”

Pero snorted. “Doubt it.”

But as if to prove her point, Leon, now satisfied from his meal, curled up once more in her arms, his tiny head resting against her chest. Yet, his amber eyes flickered toward Pero, as if recognizing him as part of their little trio now. The eldest princess giggled, stroking Leon’s fur. “Welcome home, little one.”

And in that moment, with the setting sun casting golden light through the windows, she knew Leon had not only found a home.

He had found a family.

-----

The sun hung lazily in the afternoon sky, casting soft rays of gold that danced through the green leaves of the towering trees in Castle Lovelei’s grand gardens. The air was warm, and the fragrance of blooming flowers wafted through the grounds, mixing with the faint scent of the distant sea. Pero Tovar had wandered into the gardens, finding himself more and more drawn to the serene atmosphere as of late. With each step, he felt the tranquility of the place, but there was also a soft pull at his chest, a tug he couldn’t quite explain. It was the same pull that had brought him here today.

And there she was.

Princess Y/N.

She was at the fountains once again, the water glistening behind her like a crystal backdrop. Her delicate feet moved with precise elegance, the soft click of her shoes barely audible over the hum of the garden. She wore a soft pink and white gown today, and as she spun in place, the fabric fluttered around her like petals in the breeze. Her long hair, woven with dark pink bands, swirled around her, gleaming in the sunlight.

The Spaniard stood at the edge of the fountain, leaning slightly against the stone wall as his eyes followed her every movement. Beside him, Leon sat perched, his little orange form oddly still for such an energetic creature, his golden eyes locked on the princess with the same kind of focus that Pero felt creeping into his own chest.

The kitten let out a soft mew, causing Pero to glance down at him. “Even you’re captivated by her.” He muttered, his voice low as he crouched down, watching Leon’s tail flicker with interest. The kitten didn’t respond but continued to watch Y/N’s graceful movements, its head slightly tilting with curiosity.

Pero’s gaze returned to the princess. Her form was flawless, each movement an embodiment of grace and power. She was lost in her art, twirling and leaping as though the world around her had vanished. For a moment, it was just her and the dance, her body telling stories without words, the music only she could hear guiding her every step. He felt his heart tighten in his chest. He had watched her dance countless times before, but today, something about it felt different. Maybe it was the way the sun caught her hair, or the delicate way she moved with the rhythm of the world. But he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was witnessing something more than just a dance, it was an intimate piece of her soul laid bare for the world to see.

Leon’s mew broke Pero from his thoughts, and he glanced down at the kitten again. “I suppose you’re right. She’s... magnificent.” His words came out quietly, as if not wanting to disturb the beauty of the moment.

And then, the unthinkable happened.

As Y/N twirled, a soft breeze picked up, sending a few loose strands of hair flying into her face. Without missing a beat, she continued, her movements flowing in perfect harmony with the rhythm of the wind. Her eyes were closed, and for a fleeting moment, Pero could have sworn he saw a faint smile on her lips.

Her beauty and grace took his breath away, leaving him momentarily frozen in place. He had never seen someone so effortlessly breathtaking, so full of life and passion.

Leon, noticing his lack of attention, took it upon himself to nudge Pero’s arm, giving a little impatient mew, as if to say, “Don’t just stand there, watch her!”

Pero chuckled softly and gave the kitten a quick scratch behind the ears. “You’re right, little one.” He shook his head and smiled to himself.

As the princess continued to dance, she began to move closer to the edge of the fountain, where she caught sight of Pero and Leon. She slowed, her expression softening as she approached them, her feet landing lightly on the stone path. “Forgive me, I didn’t notice that you two were here.” She said with a playful glint in her eyes, her voice carrying the same melody as the dance itself.

The mercenary cleared his throat and stood up straight, trying to mask the slight flush creeping up his neck. “I…uh, I didn’t want to disturb you. But it seems Leon here couldn’t help himself. He’s quite the admirer of yours.” He nodded toward the kitten, who was now sitting proudly at his feet.

Princess Y/N laughed softly, bending down to give Leon a gentle pet. “I think it’s the other way around. You’ve been a loyal companion, haven’t you, Leon?” She smiled at the kitten, who responded with a satisfied purr.

Pero couldn’t help but notice the warmth in her eyes as she looked down at Leon. It wasn’t just affection, it was a quiet fondness, a bond between them that was as strong as any friendship or family tie.

“I must say, though.” Y/N continued, standing up and facing Pero with a graceful elegant turn. “You’ve been quite the silent observer, Pero. I didn’t expect you to appreciate ballet so much.”

He shifted uncomfortably, unsure how to respond. “I…I’m not much for dancing.” He said, his voice rougher than usual. “But there’s something about watching you, Princesa... it’s... it’s mesmerizing.”

Y/N’s smile softened, and she nodded as though she understood. “It’s the music, isn’t it? The rhythm. Ballet isn’t just about movement, it’s about telling a story. It’s my way of communicating when words fail me.”

The Spaniard felt the weight of her words linger in the air, and for a moment, the world seemed to stand still. “You’ve never failed to communicate, Princesa.” He replied quietly, his gaze steady on her, his heart inexplicably drawn toward her.

The eldest princess tilted her head slightly, her expression thoughtful. “Thank you,Sir Pero.” She smiled softly and reached out to gently take Leon in her arms once again. “Perhaps one day, I’ll properly teach you a dance.”

A small, almost amused smile tugged at Pero’s lips. “I think I’ll leave that to the professionals.”

She laughed, her laughter like music itself, and with a small wink, she turned back to the fountain, the soft swish of her gown following her graceful movements.

Pero stood there for a moment longer, watching her as she resumed her practice. The day had grown late, and the sun began to dip beneath the horizon, casting the garden in a soft golden light. But he didn’t move, not yet. Instead, he let his eyes wander back to Y/N, the way she danced effortlessly beneath the sky, and felt the strange, undeniable pull in his chest once again.

-----

The grand dining hall of Castle Lovelei was illuminated by the golden glow of chandeliers, their flickering candlelight casting warm reflections against the polished marble floor. The long, regal dining table was adorned with luxurious silverware and delicately arranged floral centerpieces, their fragrance mingling with the rich aroma of the evening feast. King Randolph Lovelei sat at the head of the table, his expression content as he watched his twelve daughters enjoy their meal. Laughter and chatter filled the space, the princesses exchanging playful banter while their maids ensured their plates were never empty.

Princess Y/N sat among her sisters, her mind still lingering on the events of the afternoon, the soft melody of her ballet, the warmth of Leon in her arms, and the deep, unwavering gaze of Pero Tovar as he had watched her dance. Something about those moments made her heart feel light, free, untethered to the responsibilities of royal life.

But that moment of peace was shattered in an instant.

King Randolph, setting down his goblet of wine, cleared his throat and spoke in his deep, authoritative voice. “My daughters…” He began. “...with Y/N’s birthday drawing near, I have taken it upon myself to ensure it is a celebration worthy of her station. We shall have a grand ball, the finest the kingdom has seen in years. And, to mark this momentous occasion…” He paused, smiling at his eldest daughter. “I have invited noble princes and esteemed men from across the land to attend, so that they may have the honor of courting my eldest daughter.”

A beat of silence.

Then, excitement erupted around the table.

The younger princesses gasped and squealed in delight, whispering amongst themselves about which noblemen or prince would attend, what grand gifts they might bring, and whether any of them would be charming enough to win their eldest sister’s favor and even win her hand in marriage.

But Y/N herself…

She had frozen in place, her fingers slackening as the silver spoon slipped from her grasp, landing with a soft clatter against her porcelain plate. Her heart pounded, her throat tightened at the thought.

Marriage?

Her father was arranging suitors for her now?

She forced herself to swallow, her voice hesitant. “Father… you wish for me to…” She paused, steadying herself, “...to be courted? To be… betrothed?”

King Randolph chuckled, seemingly oblivious to the distress in her voice. “Of course, my dear. You are of age, and it is only right that we begin the search for a suitable husband.” He smiled warmly, but to Y/N, the words felt heavy. “This is an important duty as a princess. You will strengthen alliances, ensure the prosperity of our kingdom, and, in time, rule beside a man who will cherish and support you.”

Y/N’s fingers curled around the edge of the table, her pulse quickening. It wasn’t that she despised marriage, she knew it was an eventual expectation. But why now? Why so suddenly? And why did the thought of it feel so suffocating? As the excited voices of her sisters swirled around her, she found herself gripping her gown tightly beneath the table.

She wasn’t ready.

She wasn’t ready to give her heart to a stranger, to allow herself to be locked into a life she did not choose.

And as her mind reeled, her thoughts drifted, against her will, to a certain dark-haired soldier.

Pero Tovar.

The way he had held her hand when she had guided him into the waltz. The way his rough, battle-worn hands had been so hesitant, so unsure, and yet so strong. The way he had twirled her beneath the moonlight, catching her in his arms when she lost her balance. The way he had looked at her that afternoon in the gardens, his brown eyes watching her with something she couldn’t quite name, something unspoken, something that made her heart race.

And suddenly, the idea of standing in a grand ballroom, dancing with a stranger, some nobleman with a polished smile and rehearsed words, felt unbearably wrong. The weight of expectation pressed against her, and for the first time in her life, she did not know how to escape it. The voices around the table became distant, the light of the chandeliers too bright, the air too heavy.

And in that moment, Y/N Lovelei. the fearless, untamed princess who danced with the wind itself, felt trapped.

-----

The afternoon sun cast a golden glow over the castle gardens, bathing the blooming flowers in warm light. Laughter and chatter filled the air as the princesses indulged in their usual pastimes, some painting, others reading, and a few engaging in playful games of tag on the grassy lawn. The scent of fresh roses mixed with the faint aroma of baked goods wafting from the castle kitchens, creating a serene, picturesque atmosphere.

Pero Tovar stood alongside William Garin, both men keeping a watchful eye on the twelve princesses as they moved about the gardens. It was a duty they had grown accustomed to, though William often took the task with far more ease, occasionally exchanging lighthearted comments about their privileged charge. Pero, however, was not as easily amused today. His eyes wandered toward the grand marble fountain at the heart of the garden, where the familiar sight of Y/N Lovelei should have been, twirling, leaping, lost in the rhythm of her own world.

But instead, the princess was merely sitting.

Still.

Silent.

Cradling the tiny orange kitten, Leon, in her arms, Y/N gazed downward, her expression distant. She absentmindedly stroked the kitten’s fur, but her usual lighthearted energy was gone. No laughter. No soft humming. No elegant movements that mesmerized him beyond reason.

That was unlike her.

A frown tugged at Pero’s lips as he took a step forward. William caught the motion and smirked knowingly, nudging him in the ribs.

“You’re headed straight for trouble, mate.” William murmured under his breath.

Pero shot him a glare. “Shut up.”

The Irishman chuckled but let him go.

As the Spaniard approached the fountain, the eldest princess didn’t even notice him at first. Her fingers still ran gently through Leon’s fur, her eyes unfocused. The kitten let out a soft purr, curling deeper into her arms, sensing its owner’s unease.

Pero cleared his throat. “No dancing today, princesa?”

Y/N blinked, as if only now realizing she had company. She turned her head to look at him, offering a small, forced smile. “Ah… I suppose not.”

The mercenary studied her closely. The princess he had come to know, the one who danced as if the world itself was her stage, the one who was fearless and full of fire, was not the woman sitting before him now. “You are troubled.” He stated gruffly, sitting down beside her on the stone bench.

She let out a soft sigh. “Is it that obvious?”

Pero shrugged. “You do not hide things as well as you think.”

The princess chuckled weakly at that, but her smile didn’t reach her eyes. She glanced down at Leon, who gave a tiny meow in response. “It’s just…” She hesitated, then inhaled deeply. “It’s my father. The announcement last night. About my betrothal.”

Pero tensed slightly but kept his expression unreadable. “Ah…”

Y/N traced circles on Leon’s soft fur, her voice quieter now. “I knew this day would come eventually. I always did. As a princess, I understand my duty. Marrying well means securing alliances, strengthening the kingdom… making my father proud.” She exhaled sharply. “But why does it feel like I’m losing something?”

The Spaniard didn’t answer immediately. He watched her, the way her hands trembled slightly as she held Leon closer, the way her brows furrowed in deep thought. Finally, he muttered, “Because you are not choosing.”

She turned to him, eyes widening just a fraction.

He met her gaze, his voice steady but firm. “A woman like you, one who dances like the wind, who moves without chains, you were not meant to be caged.” He leaned back, arms crossed, glancing at the gardens. “And now they tell you that you must belong to someone. Some nobleman with soft hands and empty words.” His lips curled slightly, as if the thought disgusted him. “No wonder you are troubled.”

Y/N stared at him, a strange fluttering in her chest. He was right. That was exactly how she felt. She had spent her whole life cherishing her freedom, the ability to dance wherever she pleased, to lose herself in the music, to defy the expectations of what a princess should be. And now, in just a few days’ time, she would be forced to stand in a ballroom filled with men she did not know, expected to smile, to charm, to let them fight over the right to claim her.

Her fingers tightened around Leon. “I don’t want to be claimed.” She whispered, more to herself than to him.

Pero’s eyes darkened slightly at her words. His hand twitched at his side, but he kept it firmly in his lap, resisting the urge to reach for her. Instead, he simply muttered. “Then don’t be.”

Y/N turned to him fully now, searching his face. “But how? I can’t just defy my father. I can’t…”

“You are a princesa, sí.” Pero interrupted, voice rough. “But you are also you.” His gaze locked onto hers, steady and unwavering. “That means you still have a choice.”

For a moment, they simply stared at each other.

The air between them felt heavier now, charged with something unspoken. The Spaniard had never been a man of soft words or grand gestures, but the intensity in his voice, the conviction in his gaze, it struck something deep within her. 

Leon meowed again, breaking the moment. Princess Y/N blinked, looking down at the tiny kitten curled against her chest. “I suppose… I just need to figure out what I want.” She murmured.

Pero exhaled, leaning back against the bench once more. “That would be a good start.”

A small, genuine smile finally touched the princess’ lips. She glanced at him from the corner of her eye. “You know… you’re a lot wiser than you let on, Ser Pero Tovar.”

He snorted. “Don’t let Garin hear you say that. He’ll never let me live it down.”

She laughed softly, and for the first time since the night before, the weight on her chest felt just a little lighter. And as the afternoon sun warmed them both, neither of them noticed the way William Garin watched from a distance, his arms crossed, a smirk tugging at his lips.

He had seen many things in his time as a soldier. Battles. Wars. Death.

But watching a hardened warrior and a princess share a quiet moment by the fountain?

Now that was something new.

-----

The golden afternoon light bathed the garden in a soft glow, casting long shadows over the marble fountain where Princess Y/N Lovelei sat, still troubled by the weight of her father’s announcement. Pero Tovar remained beside her, watching as she absentmindedly stroked the small orange kitten nestled in her arms.

He had never been the kind of man to offer words of comfort, his way had always been through action. And right now, he could not bear to see the fire in her eyes dimmed by doubt and duty.

With a quiet sigh, he reached forward, his calloused hands gently cradling hers. She gasped softly at the warmth of his touch, her gaze lifting to meet his. Pero’s grip was firm, yet careful, as though he feared he might break something delicate. “Enough of this sorrow.” He muttered gruffly, lifting Leon from her arms. The tiny kitten gave a sleepy meow as Pero set him down on the stone bench beside them. “You think too much, princesa.”

The princess blinked in confusion. “I…”

Before she could protest, the Spaniard stood, keeping his hold on her hands as he gently but insistently pulled her to her feet. She stumbled slightly in surprise, but his strength steadied her.

“Teach me.” He said simply.

She frowned. “Teach you what?”

Pero smirked, tilting his head. “Your dance.”

Y/N’s lips parted in shock. “You… want to learn ballet?”

He huffed, looking away for a moment. “It is not for me.” He admitted. “It is for you. If dancing is what makes you feel free, then do it.” His deep brown eyes met hers again, sincere and unwavering. “Dance with me, princesa.”

Her heart skipped a beat.

For a long moment, she just stared at him, her mind still caught in the worries of noblemen and forced betrothals. But then, something inside her shifted. A spark. A reminder that she was still her. And if she was to be married off soon, why not steal a moment of happiness for herself now? A smile, soft but real, curled on her lips. “Alright, Ser Pero Tovar.” She said, stepping closer. “But don’t think I’ll go easy on you.”

He snorted. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Princess Y/N giggled, then carefully took his rough hand and guided it to her waist. Pero stiffened slightly at the contact but didn’t pull away. With her other hand, she laced her fingers with his, leading him into position. Leon let out a tiny meow from his spot on the bench, his fluffy tail curling around himself as he watched them with wide, curious eyes.

“Relax…” The princess murmured, glancing up at Pero’s tense expression. “This isn’t a battlefield.”

The mercenary exhaled sharply through his nose. “Feels like one.”

She laughed, her voice light and melodious. “Then follow my lead, soldier.”

And so, they began to move.

At first, Pero’s steps were clumsy, his heavy boots not suited for the delicate, fluid movements of a ballet waltz. But Y/N was patient, gently correcting him with a touch here, a whispered instruction there. Slowly, his movements grew more confident. His grip on her waist firmed, and as they twirled beneath the dappled sunlight filtering through the trees, he found himself mesmerized by the way she smiled, free and radiant, as if all her worries had melted away. The princess spun, her gown billowing around her, and he caught her easily, pulling her back into his arms. 

Their eyes met, and for a brief, fleeting second, the world around them disappeared.

There was no kingdom. No arranged marriage. No duty.

Only them.

Dancing to their hearts’ content, beneath the golden light of the afternoon.

And as Leon purred from the bench, watching his new owner twirl in the arms of a gruff soldier, it seemed even the little kitten approved.

The garden was alive with the soft rustling of leaves and the faint chirping of birds, but all else seemed to fade as Y/N Lovelei and Pero Tovar danced in perfect harmony around the marble fountain. Their movements were fluid, her light and graceful, his sturdy yet surprisingly gentle. With each twirl, the princess’s pink gown flared like the petals of a blooming rose, and her braided hair caught the evening light like spun sunlight.

The moment was nothing short of magical.

Unbeknownst to them, a dozen pairs of eyes had fallen upon the scene.

Hidden among the hedges, the other eleven princesses had been enjoying their own hobbies, embroidering, reading, painting, and playing music, when the sight of their eldest sister waltzing with a certain rugged soldier caught their attention. One by one, they set their activities aside, gathering at the garden’s edge, their eyes widening in awe.

"Would you look at that…" Ashlyn whispered, pressing a hand to her chest. "She looks like she just stepped out of a fairytale novel."

"Who knew Ser Pero Tovar could be so... graceful?" Delia giggled, her gaze flickering between the dancing pair and the man’s usual gruff demeanor.

"Not me." Hadley whispered in disbelief. "But just look at him! He’s actually smiling!"

Indeed, Pero Tovar, battle-worn and ever-stoic, had a rare softness to his expression. Though he lacked the natural elegance their eldest sister possessed, his steps were sure, his hands steady as he spun her in time with the silent rhythm they had created together. And when she laughed, the sound bright and carefree, he looked down at her with something close to admiration.

"Do you think he’s fallen for her?" Janessa murmured, leaning toward Isla, who simply smirked.

"Do you even have to ask?" Isla replied knowingly.

At that moment, a familiar voice joined them.

“Now, this is a sight I never thought I’d live to see.”

The princesses turned to find William Garin standing a few paces behind them, arms crossed, a grin tugging at his lips as he observed the pair dancing before them. His usual teasing was absent, replaced instead with genuine amusement and perhaps a hint of pride. “Pero Tovar…” The Irishman mused, shaking his head. “The same man who grumbles at the idea of etiquette lessons is now twirling a princess like he was born to do it. Unbelievable.”

"You’re surprised?" Lacey raised a brow. "I thought you knew him best."

William chuckled. "Oh, I know Pero better than most, which is exactly why I’m so surprised. That man avoids softness like the plague. And yet..." He gestured toward them, his smirk deepening. "Look at him now."

The princesses exchanged knowing glances, hearts swelling at the sight of their sister lost in a dance she never expected to share with someone like Pero Tovar.

Princess Y/N, oblivious to her audience, was utterly captivated by the man guiding her through the steps. Though she had led him at first, now it felt as though they moved together in perfect unison. "See?" She murmured, breathless. "I told you I wouldn’t go easy on you."

Pero huffed, but there was no irritation in his voice. "You’re enjoying this too much, princesa."

She only laughed in response, and as Pero spun her once more under the golden evening light, something unspoken passed between them. A connection neither had sought, yet neither could deny.

And from the bushes, the other 11 princesses, and even William Garin, watched with knowing smiles.

Love had taken its first steps in the form of a waltz beneath the setting sun.

-----

The evening air was cool against Princess Y/N’s flushed cheeks as she and Pero Tovar walked side by side toward the castle. The day had been nothing short of magical, from the way he had effortlessly lifted her spirits to the dance they had shared under the golden glow of the setting sun.

Y/N found herself smiling fondly, a warmth settling in her chest as she glanced up at the rugged soldier. He had surprised her in more ways than one, and for that, she was grateful. Stopping in her tracks, she turned to face him. “Ser Pero…” She said softly.

He arched a brow at her sudden pause. “Hmm?”

“Thank you.” She murmured, stepping closer. “For cheering me up. For dancing with me. For everything.” Before Pero could respond, Y/N leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek.

Pero Tovar, warrior, mercenary, a man who had faced countless battles without flinching, found himself completely caught off guard. His body went rigid, his breath hitching ever so slightly. For a fleeting moment, his mind went blank, save for the warmth of her lips against his rough skin. By the time he managed to compose himself, Princess Y/N had already taken a step back, a shy yet amused smile playing on her lips. Pero cleared his throat, shifting slightly as if to shake off the unfamiliar fluttering in his chest. “We should get back.” He muttered. “Dinner is almost ready.”

The eldest princess giggled at his flustered state but nodded in agreement. “Yes, let’s…” Before she could take another step, her foot faltered, her balance slipping beneath her. Pero reacted instantly, reaching out to catch her before she could stumble to the ground.

"Are you alright?" He asked, steadying her by the waist.

Y/N, however, didn’t respond right away. Her gaze had dropped to her feet, her breath catching as she noticed the cause of her misstep. Her dancing slippers, the very pair her mother had gifted her before she passed away, had been damaged. The delicate satin was torn, the sole cracked from the countless steps she had taken that day.

A sharp pang twisted in her chest.

“No...” She whispered, her voice barely audible.

Pero watched as her fingers trembled, carefully lifting the ruined slipper as if it were something fragile, something irreplaceable. Her soft gentle eyes shone with unshed tears, and his chest tightened at the sight. He didn’t know much about princesses or their treasures, but he understood loss. “Y/N…” He said softly, drawing her attention back to him.

She blinked up at him, her expression filled with sorrow. “It was my mother’s gift.” She admitted in a small voice. “The last thing she ever gave me before she passed.”

The weight of her words settled between them.

Pero remained silent for a moment before, with surprising gentleness, he reached out and brushed a stray tear from the corner of her eye.

“We will fix it.” He said simply, his tone firm with quiet certainty.

The princess searched his gaze, surprised by the conviction in his voice.

“You don’t have to…”

“I want to.” He interrupted, his voice rough yet sincere. “You are not alone in this.” For a man who had spent his life believing in little more than survival and battle, it was a strange thing to offer comfort. But looking at her now, with the moonlight casting a soft glow upon her sorrowful expression, Pero Tovar knew one thing for certain…

He wanted to see her smile again.

And he would make sure her beloved slipper was restored, no matter what it took.

-----

The night had settled over Castle Lovelei, the halls quiet save for the occasional flicker of torchlight casting shadows along the stone walls. While the rest of the castle’s inhabitants had retired for the night, Pero Tovar remained awake, seated at a small wooden table in his quarters.

Before him lay Princess Y/N Lovelei’s broken dancing slipper.

With calloused fingers, he carefully examined the torn satin and cracked sole, his brows furrowed in concentration. He had never repaired something so delicate before, armor, weapons, even stitching up wounds, yes, but a slipper meant for a princess? That was uncharted territory.

Still, he found himself determined.

His fingers traced the worn fabric, recalling the sadness in the princess’ eyes when she realized her beloved gift from her mother had been damaged. He had never seen her look so heartbroken before, and for reasons he couldn’t quite explain, the sight of it had unsettled him deeply. Just as he was about to thread a needle, the door creaked open.

“Now this…” Came William Garin’s amused voice. “...is a sight I never thought I’d see.”

Pero didn’t bother looking up. “If you have nothing useful to say, go away.”

William stepped further into the room, arms crossed as he smirked down at his companion. “Sewing slippers now, are we? Didn’t take you for the sentimental type.”

The Spaniard scowled, but his hands remained steady as he continued working on the delicate fabric. “It’s not sentiment.” He muttered. “It’s fixing something important to her.”

The Irishman scoffed, plopping down onto a nearby chair. “Right. And I suppose it has nothing to do with the fact that you’re helplessly in love with the dancing princess?”

At that, Pero finally looked up.

And to William’s utter surprise, the older soldier didn’t scoff or dismiss the accusation. He simply exhaled through his nose, his expression softening ever so slightly as he glanced back down at the slipper in his hands. “Someone like her…” Pero said, voice quieter than usual. “...is easy to love.”

The blonde mercenary blinked, momentarily caught off guard by the rare honesty in his friend’s voice.

The Spaniard continued, his tone more certain now. “She is strong, kind, and full of life. She makes the world brighter just by being in it.” He paused, his fingers tracing the stitching he had just finished. “She deserves good things. This slipper… it’s just one of them.”

For a long moment, William simply stared at him. He had known Pero Tovar for years, had fought alongside him, endured battles and hardships side by side. Never once had he heard the man speak so openly, so genuinely, about someone else. With a slow grin, he leaned back in his chair. “Well, I’ll be damned.”

Pero shot him a warning look. “Not a word to anyone.”

“Oh, don’t worry.” William said with a chuckle. “I’ll let the princess figure it out herself.”

The Spaniard rolled his eyes, returning his focus to the slipper. He had a long night ahead of him, but as he carefully worked to restore the precious gift, he didn’t mind in the slightest. Because if it meant seeing Y/N Lovelei smile again, if it meant keeping even the smallest piece of her happiness intact, then Pero Tovar would gladly spend his nights stitching silk and mending broken things.

-----

The morning sunlight bathed Castle Lovelei’s gardens in a warm golden glow. The 12 princesses were scattered across the vibrant landscape, engaged in their daily studies and pastimes. Some were gathered beneath the shady oaks, flipping through pages of old tomes, while others sat in clusters, embroidering intricate patterns onto silken fabric.

But Princess Y/N Lovelei remained by the garden fountains, her usual joy dulled by the absence of her dancing. She sighed, cradling little Leon in her lap as the orange kitten purred against her touch. “What am I to do with myself, Leon?” She murmured, absentmindedly stroking his fluffy ears. “I feel restless just sitting here.” The tiny creature meowed as if in sympathy, curling closer against her.

Just then, the sound of footsteps crunching along the stone pathway caught her attention. She looked up to find Pero Tovar approaching with a confident stride, his expression unreadable. In his hands, he held something wrapped in a fine cloth.

The princess blinked in curiosity as he stopped before her.

“Stand up, princesa,” Pero said, his voice gruff yet warm.

She arched a delicate brow but complied, gently setting Leon down on the bench. As soon as she was on her feet, Pero slowly unwrapped the cloth, revealing…

Her eyes widened.

“My dancing shoes…” She breathed, her voice laced with astonishment. The once-damaged slippers now looked nearly brand new. The satin was smooth, the stitching strong, the sole reinforced. Every tear had been carefully mended with such precision that it was as if they had never been broken in the first place. Her lips parted in shock before they stretched into a radiant, beaming smile.

“Ser Pero…” She gasped, her hands fluttering to her chest. “You…you fixed them?”

Pero smirked at her reaction, holding the slippers out to her. “I told you I could fix broken things.”

Without thinking, Y/N launched herself forward, wrapping her arms around his broad shoulders in a warm embrace. “Thank you.” She murmured against him, her voice rich with genuine gratitude. “Thank you so much, Ser Pero.”

For a moment, the Spaniard stiffened, caught off guard by the affectionate gesture. But as her warmth seeped into him, he slowly brought a hand up, hesitantly resting it against the small of her back. It was brief, but it was enough.

When the eldest princess pulled away, her cheeks were tinged with a soft pink. Pero cleared his throat and looked away for a moment before motioning toward the bench. “Sit.” He instructed, his voice softer now. “Let me put them on you.”

Y/N’s breath hitched slightly, her flustered expression deepening. “O-Oh…” She stammered, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “You don’t have to…”

“I want to…” He interrupted simply, his dark eyes steady as they met hers. Something in his gaze left her breathless. Without another word, she sat back down, smoothing out her skirts as Pero knelt before her. His large hands were surprisingly gentle as he slid the first slipper onto her foot, adjusting the fit with careful precision. His fingertips brushed against her ankle, and she bit the inside of her cheek to suppress the shiver that threatened to race up her spine.

Pero, on the other hand, found himself oddly nervous, a rare feeling for him. He had fought battles, faced death countless times, yet somehow, helping the princess put on her dancing slippers felt like the most delicate, nerve-wracking task he had ever done. He moved on to the second shoe, securing it just as carefully before finally pulling back. “Try them.” He murmured.

Princess Y/N hesitated for only a moment before gracefully rising to her feet. She took a deep breath and stood on the tips of her toes, testing the repaired slippers. A bright laugh bubbled from her lips as she twirled once, then twice, pure delight shining in her gentle eyes. “They’re perfect!” She exclaimed, spinning in effortless circles. “They feel even better than before!”

The Spaniard remained where he was, watching her with quiet admiration. The way she moved, so free, so full of life, left him completely mesmerized.

Leon meowed from the bench as if agreeing.

Finally, Y/N stopped twirling and turned back to Pero, her expression softer now. She reached for his hand, squeezing it lightly. “You truly are my hero, Ser Pero Tovar.”

The words sent an unfamiliar warmth spreading through Pero’s chest. He squeezed her hand back, a small, rare smile playing on his lips. “Anytime, princesa.” He murmured.

And as the golden sunlight bathed them in its glow, he realized that there was nothing in this world he wouldn’t do to keep that smile on her face.

-----

A few moments later, Pero sat on the stone bench, arms crossed over his broad chest, watching in silence as Princess Y/N danced to her heart’s content once again. The repaired slippers he had painstakingly mended now carried her with effortless grace across the smooth stone pavement of the garden fountains. The princess was radiant, bathed in the golden hues of the afternoon sun, her hair catching the light as she twirled and leaped with all the elegance of a bird in flight. Every movement was precise yet free, controlled yet full of joy. It was as if the world around her ceased to exist whenever she danced.

On his lap, little Leon purred contentedly, curled into a tiny ball of soft orange fluff. Pero absently ran his calloused fingers through the kitten’s fur, but his eyes never left Y/N.

Gods, she looked beautiful.

He had thought it before, many times, in fact, but now, watching her move with such effortless grace, the words echoed louder in his mind. She was enchanting, utterly mesmerizing.

His little dancing princess.

The thought made something in his chest tighten. It was dangerous, the way he was feeling. Pero had always been a man who kept his heart guarded, unwilling to let anyone in. He had seen too much, lost too much. But Y/N… she had slipped through the cracks without him even realizing it. She twirled again, her arms outstretched, her expression alight with joy. And then, as if sensing his gaze, she suddenly stopped and turned toward him.

Her gentle eyes locked onto his, and a slow, warm smile spread across her lips. “Am I tiring you yet?” She teased, slightly breathless from all the movement.

The Spaniard smirked, shaking his head. “Not at all, princesa. You could dance all day, and I wouldn’t look away.”

Princess Y/N’s flustered slightly at his words, but she hid it behind a soft laugh. She made her way toward him, her skirts swaying around her ankles as she stopped just before the bench. “And what about you, Sir Tovar?” She asked playfully. “Are you not tempted to join me for another dance?”

Pero chuckled, shifting slightly in his seat. “I think I’ve done enough twirling for a lifetime.”

She pouted dramatically. “Such a shame…” She sighed. “I was hoping to teach you a few more steps.”

He tilted his head, amusement twinkling in his dark eyes. “Is that so?”

She nodded, stepping closer, her hands lightly clasped in front of her. “But I suppose I’ll have to be content knowing that you were the reason I’m able to dance again.”

At this, the Spaniard fell silent. He wasn’t a man who sought gratitude, nor was he accustomed to being someone’s source of happiness. But hearing her say it, seeing the way she looked at him with such warmth and sincerity, it made something shift inside him.

Leon let out a tiny meow, stretching lazily in Pero’s lap before hopping off to chase a butterfly nearby. Y/N giggled at the sight, but her attention quickly returned to Pero as she reached out a delicate hand. “Come…” She said softly. “Just one dance. No twirling required.”

Pero sighed dramatically but took her hand nonetheless. “You are impossible, princesa.”

She only grinned as she pulled him to his feet. “And yet, you still indulge me.”

He couldn’t argue with that.

And as she guided his hands into place, as they swayed together beneath the golden afternoon sun, Pero realized he wouldn’t have it any other way.

After some time, the late afternoon sun soon casted golden streaks across the garden fountains as Pero Tovar found himself once again caught in the arms of Princess Y/N Lovelei. His hands rested firmly at her waist, her delicate fingers laced through his as they swayed in perfect harmony. The world around them faded into nothingness, there was only the gentle rustling of leaves, the distant chirping of birds, and the soft rhythm of their shared breath.

Y/N smiled up at him, her gentle eyes glistening with a warmth that made his heart ache in the best possible way. “You’re getting better.” She teased.

Pero smirked, tightening his hold on her slightly. “I think I’ve had a good teacher.”

She laughed, the sound light and airy, like a melody carried by the wind. They moved together effortlessly, each step guiding them around the stone pavement surrounding the fountains. The soft splashing of water and the rustling of her skirts against the ground only added to the magic of the moment.

He wasn’t a man of grace, he was a warrior, a man whose hands were more accustomed to wielding weapons than holding something as delicate as she was. And yet, in her presence, with her guiding him through every motion, he felt lighter, as if the weight he always carried had somehow lessened.

The dance slowed, and the princess’ movements became gentler, drawing them to a close. The Spaniard followed her lead, unwilling to let go just yet. As their steps stilled, their bodies remained close, chests rising and falling in sync as they caught their breath.

And then, without thinking, Pero rested his forehead against hers. The space between them disappeared, and for a fleeting moment, it felt as if time had stopped. Y/N’s breath was warm against his skin, and he could feel the slight tremble in her fingers still entwined with his.

He could kiss her.

The thought struck him hard, so sudden and overwhelming that it nearly stole his breath away. She was right there, so close, so beautiful, her lips slightly parted as if waiting.

But he knew he shouldn’t.

As much as he wanted to, as much as every part of him ached to claim her lips, Pero held back. He wasn’t a nobleman. He wasn’t someone who could offer her the kind of life she deserved. She was a princess, and he was merely a soldier, a man who had seen too much bloodshed and darkness.

And yet…

He closed his eyes and pressed a lingering kiss to her forehead instead.

Princess Y/N sighed softly at the touch, leaning into him with a smile that was just as bright as the golden glow surrounding them. She didn’t seem disappointed, in fact, she looked completely at peace. “Thank you.” She murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

Pero pulled back slightly, his hands still resting at her waist. “For what, princesa?”

“For this…” She said simply, her gaze filled with an affection that made his heart pound.

He didn’t respond, but he didn’t need to. Instead, he simply held her for a moment longer, memorizing the warmth of her in his arms. Because if there was one thing he knew for certain, it was that this dance, this moment, was one worth remembering.

-----

The grand dressing chambers of the twelve princesses were filled with the soft rustling of silk nightgowns and the occasional giggle as they prepared for bed. The flickering glow of candlelight cast golden hues across the room, illuminating each sister as they brushed their hair in front of their respective vanity mirrors and whispered about the day's events.

But it was their eldest sister, Y/N Lovelei, who caught everyone's attention that night. Seated before her vanity, she hummed a soft melody while running a brush through her long locks. There was an unmistakable dreamy look in her gentle eyes, a soft smile playing on her lips as though she were lost in another world entirely.

Her younger sisters exchanged knowing glances.

“She’s doing it again.” Ashlyn, the second eldest, whispered with a grin, leaning closer to the others.

“Doing what?” Hadley, always eager to tease, smirked.

“Dreaming about him, obviously.” Delia chimed in, a mischievous twinkle in her eye.

Y/N, unaware, or perhaps purposefully ignoring them, continued brushing her hair, the tune of her hum growing even sweeter.

Fallon, the most gentle among them, tilted her head curiously. “Do you think she’s in love?”

“In love?” Edeline gasped dramatically, clasping her hands over her chest. “Our big sister? The same Y/N who swore she’d never let a man take her away from dancing? Oh, how the mighty have fallen!”

At that, Y/N let out an exasperated sigh and turned toward them, slowly becoming embarrassed at their dramatic words and accusations. “I have not fallen.” She insisted, though the way her voice wavered betrayed her words.

“Then why were you dancing with Pero Tovar again today?” Edeline asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh, I don’t know…” Courtney drawled playfully. “Maybe because she likes him.”

A chorus of giggles erupted, and Y/N groaned, placing her brush down in surrender. “Must you all be so insufferable?”

“Yes!” Came the unified response, sending them into another fit of laughter.

Princess Fallon, the most romantic of them all, clasped her hands together dreamily. “He is rather handsome, in a rugged sort of way.”

“Oh, most definitely.” Blair agreed. “And he dances with you, sis! You’ve never danced with anyone the way you dance with him.”

Y/N opened her mouth to protest but found herself at a loss for words. Because deep down, she knew they were right. Pero Tovar was different. He was gruff, a little rough around the edges, and yet… when he held her in his arms, he was nothing but gentle. Patient. Attentive. He made her feel like the only woman in the world.

“You should have seen the way he looked at you.” Ashlyn continued, leaning against the bedpost. “Like he was utterly enchanted.”

The eldest princess exhaled softly, a warmth spreading through her chest at the memory. He had looked at her that way, hadn’t he? And when he had kissed her forehead…

She touched the spot absentmindedly, her heart fluttering. The action did not go unnoticed.

A dramatic gasp filled the room. “She’s thinking about the kiss!” Delia practically squealed.

“That wasn’t even a real kiss.” Y/N muttered, rolling her eyes, though her sisters caught the way her lips curled upward ever so slightly.

“Yet you’re still thinking about it!” Fallon teased, nudging her shoulder. “Face it, dearest sister, you are in love.”

Y/N sighed, shaking her head with a laugh. “You are all impossible.”

“But you love us.” Isla chimed in, wrapping her arms around her big sister in an affectionate hug, soon followed by the rest. The eldest princess, despite her feigned exasperation, smiled as she embraced them back. Because as much as they teased, they were her sisters, the ones who knew her best.

And perhaps, just perhaps, they were right.

Maybe she really was in love.

-----

The grand castle of the Lovelei family was alive with celebration. Festive banners of deep rose, gold, and ivory adorned the halls, shimmering under the glow of countless chandeliers. The scent of fresh flowers, white lilies and pink roses filled the air, mingling with the aroma of the finest delicacies being prepared for the grand feast. Outside, the kingdom bustled with excitement, citizens gathering in the village square to join in the merriment, while inside the castle, noble guests from all corners of the land arrived, dressed in their finest attire, eager to celebrate the birthday of the beloved eldest princess, Y/N Lovelei.

But amidst all the grandeur, in the royal chambers, eleven princesses were in a flurry of motion as they fussed over their eldest sister.

“Oh, Y/N, just stay still for one more second!” Isla whined as she carefully adjusted the golden tiara atop of their eldest sister’s head.

“I am staying still.” The said princess protested with a light laugh, though she couldn’t hide the nervous flutter in her chest. Her sisters had gone to great lengths to ensure she looked absolutely perfect for her special day. Her long hair cascaded down her back, pinned with delicate pearls and adorned with a few tiny roses. Her gown was breathtaking, an elegant creation of flowing silk and lace in the deepest shade of pink, embroidered with golden threads that shimmered like sunlight. The off-the-shoulder design framed her gracefully, and the delicate crystal embellishments along the skirt sparkled with every movement, resembling the stars themselves.

“She looks stunning!” Ashlyn breathed, stepping back to admire their work.

“She looks regal!” Fallon corrected. “Like a true queen in the making.”

The eldest princess shook her head with an amused smile. “I do not intend to be queen, dear sister.”

“No, but you certainly look like one.” Courtney grinned.

Before Y/N could respond, a soft knock sounded at the door.

“Girls.” Came the familiar, deep voice of their father, King Randolph. “The guests are waiting. It is time.” The room fell silent as the door creaked open, revealing their father standing at the threshold. The moment his gaze landed on his eldest daughter, his breath caught in his throat.

She was beautiful. So beautiful.

For a fleeting moment, it was as though time had rewound, and he was seeing his late wife once more. The resemblance was uncanny, the way Y/N held herself, the grace in her posture, the warmth in her gentle eyes. She was not just a reflection of their mother’s beauty, but a testament to her strength, kindness, and spirit. Randolph’s lips parted, his eyes glistening as he stepped forward. “My darling girl…” His voice wavered slightly, betraying the overwhelming emotion in his heart. “You look… just like her.”

The sisters exchanged glances, their expressions softening at their father’s tenderness.

Y/N’s own eyes grew misty as she stepped forward, gently taking his hands in hers. “Father…”

He swallowed thickly, shaking his head with a bittersweet smile. “She would have been so proud of the woman you’ve become.”

She squeezed his hands. “I hope I’ve made you proud too.”

Randolph let out a quiet chuckle, pulling her into a warm embrace. “You always have.”

The moment was tender, filled with love and remembrance, but the sound of distant music reminded them of their duties. The celebration awaited them. Taking a deep breath, Randolph stepped back and offered his arm to his eldest daughter. “Shall we?”

Y/N nodded, placing her hand in the crook of his arm, her sisters following closely behind.

As they made their way toward the grand ballroom, the eldest princess felt her nerves return, not because of the celebration itself, but because of what it symbolized. Tonight was not just about her birthday; it was about finding a suitor. A potential husband.

Her gaze flickered across the halls, searching for a familiar figure.

Where are you, Pero?

Little did she know, just beyond the ballroom doors, a certain rugged soldier stood waiting in the shadows, his eyes solely searching for her.

Upon entering the grand ballroom of the Lovelei castle was a breathtaking sight to behold. Golden chandeliers cast a warm glow over the marbled floors, while the towering glass windows allowed the silver moonlight to mix with the soft candlelight. Elegant floral arrangements adorned every corner, the scent of roses and jasmine drifting through the air as noble guests from across the kingdom gathered in anticipation.

At the sound of the herald’s trumpet, the grand oak doors were pulled open, and the room fell silent.

“Presenting His Majesty, King Randolph of House Lovelei, and the twelve princesses of the royal family.” The steward announced, his voice echoing through the hall. All eyes turned toward the grand staircase as King Randolph led his daughters down the steps, his eldest, Y/N, on his arm. Whispers and murmurs broke out among the noblemen and princes, their gazes fixated on the eldest princess.

“She is even more beautiful than the rumors say.” “A true vision of grace.” “A wife most befitting of a future king.”

The princes in attendance, some regal, some young and ambitious, straightened their postures, eager to make an impression. The whispers grew louder, speculations swirling about who would be the fortunate man to claim the eldest princess’s hand.

Princess Y/N, however, barely paid them any mind. Though she kept her poise, her heart was restless. She knew why they were here. This was not just a celebration, it was a showcase for potential suitors. But the idea of a stranger claiming her hand felt suffocating. Her sisters, however, reveled in the attention, sharing playful glances amongst themselves as they descended the staircase.

But before any nobleman could step forward, two figures cut through the crowd. Pero Tovar and William Garin approached the Lovelei family, their presence commanding attention despite the finery that surrounded them. Their attire was more refined than usual, cleaned and well-tailored, though still practical. Pero's dark, rugged features stood in stark contrast to the delicate grandeur of the ballroom, yet his intense gaze was only fixed on one person.

The moment Y/N saw him, she felt the tension in her shoulders ease.

With a deep bow, William was the first to speak. “Your Majesty. Princesses. We are honored to celebrate this joyous occasion with you.”

Pero followed suit, bowing deeply before meeting Y/N’s gaze. “Feliz cumpleaños, princesa.” His voice was rough yet soft, his accent thick as he offered her a rare, almost shy smile. Then, to the shock of the gathered nobles, both men took the said princess’ hand in turn, pressing a respectful kiss to the back of it. The sisters stifled their giggles behind their hands, eyes gleaming with amusement.

The Spaniard then reached into his coat and pulled out something small, carefully wrapped in cloth. When he unwrapped it, a single, pristine white rose was revealed. Its petals were soft, delicate, and untouched by imperfection. “I…” He hesitated, his brows furrowing slightly. “I was at the markets earlier and saw this and it immediately made me think of you, princesa.”

A hush fell over the immediate crowd. The noblemen who had been vying for Princess Y/N’s attention now watched with wary intrigue. She, however, did not hesitate. She smiled, her eyes softening as she reached out and accepted the rose with both hands, holding it as if it were the most precious thing in the world. “It is perfect, Ser Pero.” Then, before anyone could process what was happening, the princess stepped forward and pressed a tender kiss to his cheek.

A collective gasp filled the ballroom.

Her sisters let out squeals of delight, clinging onto each other in sheer glee.

Even William raised his eyebrows in amusement, smirking as Pero’s expression froze, his face slightly tinged with red.

King Randolph, ever composed, cleared his throat and cast a stern glance toward his younger daughters, silencing their giggles.

Princess Y/N, meanwhile, stepped back, still holding the white rose close to her chest. She looked up at Pero, her voice warm and full of gratitude. “Thank you.”

The Spaniard swallowed hard, forcing himself to regain his composure. He merely nodded, his dark eyes never leaving hers.

The other noblemen shifted uncomfortably. The way the birthday princess looked at this rugged soldier, this foreign mercenary, was not how one looked at a mere guard. There was something deeper there. Something that made them uneasy.

And for the first time that night, Pero Tovar felt like the most powerful man in the room.

-----

Once Pero and William had taken their place in their designated post for tonight, Princess Y/N turned to her lady-in-waiting, her eyes shining with warmth and determination. She carefully placed the single white rose into the younger woman’s hands. “Take this to my chambers, please.” She instructed softly. “Put it in my most lavish vase, and make sure it is well cared for while I am here.”

The lady-in-waiting, though surprised by the special request, nodded respectfully. “Of course, Your Highness.” As the white rose was whisked away to be tended to, the evening festivities resumed in full splendor. The grand ballroom, already alive with music and chatter, became even more animated as noblemen and princes, emboldened by their ambitions, took their chances to approach the eldest princess.

One by one, they came forward, bowing politely and introducing themselves with rehearsed charm.

“Princess Y/N, would you grant me the honor of a dance?” One nobleman in a deep-blue tunic asked, extending his gloved hand.

Y/N, ever the gracious host, accepted with a polite smile and allowed herself to be led onto the dance floor. But the moment the music began, she knew she was in trouble. Her partner was clumsy. His steps were erratic, his grip on her waist far too tight, and worst of all, he kept stepping on her toes. She winced, though she did not voice her discomfort. It was clear that he had no sense of rhythm, nor an understanding of how to properly lead a dance.

When the song ended, the birthday princess politely excused herself and barely had time to breathe before another suitor stepped in. This one, a young duke from a neighboring land, was just as eager to impress. But the moment he pulled her in too close, his breath far too close to her ear, Y/N felt the hairs on the back of her neck rise. It was suffocating. Forced. She smiled stiffly, tolerating it for the sake of diplomacy, but her heart wasn’t in it.

One dance turned into two, then three, and with each new partner, the eldest princess felt herself growing more exhausted. None of them matched her rhythm. None of them made her feel at ease.

And then…

A familiar calloused hand reached for hers.

“Princesa.”

Princess Y/N looked up, her breath catching in her throat.

Pero Tovar stood before her, the warm candlelight flickering against his rugged features. He was still dressed in his tailored formal wear, though it was clear the stiffness of it made him uncomfortable. And yet, despite his usual gruff demeanor, there was something different in his gaze. Something softer. “Dance with me?” He simply asks.

The other noblemen bristled, exchanging incredulous looks. A mercenary? A soldier? Asking for a dance with the princess? It was unheard of.

But she did not hesitate. She smiled, a genuine, radiant smile, and placed her hand in his. “I would love to.” She whispered.

A hushed murmur spread across the ballroom as Pero led Y/N toward the center of the dance floor. The nobles watched with a mix of confusion and intrigue, unsure what to expect.

Then the music began.

Unlike the previous noblemen, Pero did not fumble or step on her feet. He did not pull her too close or make her feel trapped. Instead, his movements were precise yet unhurried, his grip firm but gentle. Y/N followed his lead effortlessly, her body moving as if she were gliding on air. Then, as the melody swelled, he lifted her into a graceful twirl, one she had practiced countless times with him in her ballet routines. She gasped softly, delighted, as he spun her like she was his most precious ballerina.

The world around them faded. The murmurs, the whispers, the disapproving gazes, it all ceased to exist. At this moment, it was just them.

A soldier and his princess.

Y/N’s heart pounded as she gazed up at him. Pero, for all his rough edges, moved with a grace that surprised even her. His eyes never left hers, filled with something unspoken, something deep. And for the first time that night, no, perhaps for the first time in her life, the eldest princess felt like she was truly dancing with someone who understood her.

By the time the song ended, she was breathless.

Pero, too, was breathing heavily, yet he did not release her. His hands remained on her waist, his forehead nearly resting against hers.

Applause erupted around them, though neither seemed to notice.

All Y/N knew was that her heart was racing.

And when she looked at Pero, she could swear his was too.

-----

King Randolph Lovelei stood at the edge of the ballroom, watching the scene unfold before him with a quiet, knowing expression. His eyes followed the graceful twirls and careful steps of his eldest daughter, Y/N, as she danced with none other than Pero Tovar. The way they moved together, so seamlessly, so naturally, it was unlike any dance he had ever witnessed before.

It was intimate.

It was effortless.

And above all… it was filled with something that the King recognized immediately.

Love.

His sharp eyes caught the way Y/N gazed up at Pero, her smile tender, her hair bouncing with each spin as if she belonged nowhere else but in his arms. Likewise, Pero’s expression, usually hardened with wariness and stubbornness, had softened into something unguarded. Something reverent.

Randolph let out a breath, arms folded over his chest.

“That look…” He murmured to himself. Before he could dwell on it any longer, a giggle interrupted his thoughts. 

“Father, you’re staring.” He turned his head slightly to find his second eldest daughter, Ashlyn, standing beside him with a sly smile.

“I am merely observing.” He corrected.

“Observing Y/N and Sir Pero?” His fifth daughter, Delia, chimed in, her eyes twinkling mischievously.

Randolph raised a brow. “So, you all have noticed it too, then?”

A chorus of whispers and giggles erupted from his other eleven daughters, who had gathered around him, clearly invested in the blossoming romance.

“Of course we have!” Lacey grinned.

“They’ve been sneaking glances at each other for weeks now.” Hadley added, adjusting the flowers in her hair.

“And you should have seen them in the garden yesterday.” Fallon sighed dreamily. “They were dancing by the fountains like something out of a fairytale!”

Randolph’s brow lifted slightly, glancing back toward the dance floor.

Pero had just finished twirling Y/N into a gentle dip, his arm strong around her waist as she laughed breathlessly in his hold.

He had seen that look before.

Long ago.

It was the same look he himself had worn whenever he gazed at his late wife, the love of his life. A quiet warmth spread through his chest. He could have been angry. Could have been outraged that a mere soldier, no matter how skilled, had dared to look at his daughter in such a way.

But he wasn’t.

Instead, a small, knowing smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

“Father?” His youngest, Lacey, asked softly.

Randolph exhaled, turning to his daughters with a wry chuckle. “So, tell me, my loves… just how long has this been going on?” The princesses gasped in delight, eager to share every little detail of what they had noticed. And as their father listened, his gaze returned to the dance floor, where Y/N and Pero remained lost in each other, utterly unaware of the rest of the world.

Yes.

He had seen that look before.

And perhaps… just perhaps… it was time to let fate take its course.

-----

The final notes of the waltz soon faded into the air, leaving only the soft rustling of fabric and the distant murmur of the ballroom. Pero Tovar held Princess Y/N close, his strong arms steady around her waist as they both caught their breaths. Her locks shimmered under the warm candlelight, her gentle eyes gazing up at him with a brightness that made his chest tighten. Her smile, radiant, genuine, filled with something he dared not name, had the mercenary completely spellbound.

He had never seen someone look at him like that before.

Like he was something to be cherished.

A man unworthy of such tenderness, yet here she was, offering it to him freely.

Y/N giggled softly, pressing a hand to his chest as she felt the rapid beating of his heart beneath his tunic. "Are you tired already, Sir Tovar?" She teased lightly, tilting her head. "Or is it something else making your heart race?"

Pero let out a breathy chuckle, his lips curling into a shy smile. He was never a man of sweet words, but with her, he found himself trying. "You…It’s because of you." He admitted gruffly, voice low, almost like a confession.

The princess’ lips soon stretched in a pretty and heart warming smile at his honesty, her fingers lightly tracing the fabric of his sleeve. Encouraged by her reaction, The Spaniard lowered his forehead to rest gently against hers. His nose brushed against hers, an intimate, fleeting touch. She let out another soft giggle, the sound filling his chest with warmth.

From the corner of his eye, Pero could see some of her sisters peeking from the crowd, their hands covering their mouths as they squealed and whispered amongst themselves. Even William, standing near the King, had an amused smirk on his face. He exhaled through his nose, shaking his head in amusement. "Your sisters are enjoying this too much." He muttered.

Y/N hummed in agreement but made no effort to move away from him. Instead, she whispered. "Let them." She then leaned in ever so slightly, her lips brushing his cheek once again, just as she had done before. The touch was fleeting, barely there, yet it sent a shiver down his spine.

The Spaniard swallowed hard, his fingers unconsciously tightening on her waist, anchoring himself. If he wasn't already hopelessly in love with her, he certainly was now.

Once their dance had come to an end, the ballroom was soon filled with cheerful laughter and applause as the grand, five-layered vanilla cake was wheeled into the center of the room. Intricately decorated with delicate sugar roses and golden embellishments, it was a masterpiece befitting a princess. It was finally time to blow the birthday cake. Princess Y/N stood at the head of the long banquet table, her family and noble guests surrounding her as the servants carefully lit the candles. The flickering glow reflected in her soft gentle eyes as everyone began singing.

"Happy birthday, dear Y/N..."

As the final note faded, the eldest princess clasped her hands together, closing her eyes for a brief moment. She made a wish in her heart before exhaling gently, blowing out the candles in one graceful breath. Applause erupted once more, and her sisters cheered enthusiastically.

"Speech, Big sis! Speech!" Lacey, the youngest, giggled, clapping her hands.

The said princess laughed softly, shaking her head. "No speech. But I will say…thank you, everyone, for making this day so special."

As tradition dictated, the birthday celebrant always had the honor of cutting the first slice and offering it to someone dear to their heart. In previous years, Y/N had always given her first slice to either her beloved father or one of her younger sisters. It was expected. 

But this year...

Her hands hesitated only for a moment before she carefully lifted a piece of cake onto a golden plate. The room fell silent, all eyes curiously watching as she turned…

And walked straight toward Pero Tovar.

The gruff soldier, who had been standing a respectable distance away, stiffened slightly when he saw her approach. His dark eyes flickered with uncertainty, but he remained still as the eldest princess stopped in front of him, holding out the plate with a warm, knowing smile.

Whispers and gasps rippled through the noble guests. Her sisters squealed in delight. Even William let out a low whistle, clearly amused.

Pero, for his part, could only stare at her, utterly dumbfounded. His calloused hands twitched at his sides, unsure of what to do.

"You are dear to me, Ser Pero." Princess Y/N said softly, so only he could hear. "And I want you to have the first slice."

His throat felt dry. He glanced briefly at King Randolph, half-expecting the man to show disapproval, but to his shock, the King merely watched with an unreadable yet gentle expression. Realizing there was no protest, the Spaniard swallowed his pride, his heart hammering in his chest as he slowly reached out, his fingers brushing hers as he accepted the plate. "Gracias, mi princesa." He murmured, voice hoarse with emotion.

Princess Y/N's smile only widened. "Happy birthday to me, then." She teased before gracefully turning back to rejoin her family, leaving Pero standing there, completely and utterly enchanted with a golden plate of cake in his hands.

-----

After the cake cutting ceremony, the ballroom continued to shimmer under the golden candlelight as the time came for the presentation of gifts. Princess Y/N Lovelei still stood at the head of the banquet hall, surrounded by her father and sisters, as noble guests eagerly stepped forward with their lavish offerings.

"From the House of Everston." A nobleman declared, bowing as his attendants revealed an ornate velvet box. Inside, a dazzling sapphire necklace rested on a bed of silk.

"From the Duchy of Norwell." Another noble presented, unveiling bolts of the finest silks, woven with gold thread.

The birthday princess accepted each gift with grace and gratitude, though she knew many of these gestures were mere attempts to gain her favor. Her heart, however, truly warmed when her family stepped forward.

Her father, King Randolph, stood before her, holding a small but exquisitely carved wooden box. "My dearest Y/N." He said, voice thick with emotion. "This belonged to your mother, and now, it belongs to you." He opened the box to reveal a breathtaking tiara, a delicate crown of gold adorned with pearls and glimmering gemstones.

Y/N's breath hitched, her fingers trembling as she reached for it. "Father..."

"You have become a woman she would have been so proud of." Randolph whispered, placing the tiara gently upon her head. Tears welled in her eyes, but before she could dwell in the moment, her eleven sisters excitedly surrounded her, each bearing their own thoughtful gifts.

"Here! I painted this for you!" Ashlyn beamed, handing over a canvas depicting their eldest sister dancing in the gardens.

"I wrote you a letter." Delia chimed in, handing over a neatly folded parchment sealed with a wax stamp.

Scarves, books, perfume bottles, intricate hair accessories, even small trinkets for little Leon, all were gifted to her with heartfelt joy.

Then came William Garin. "Happy birthday, Princess." He said with a teasing grin, presenting her with a beautifully handcrafted handheld mirror. Its silver frame was engraved with intricate floral patterns. "For someone as lovely as you, it only makes sense to have a mirror to remind you of it."

The princess laughed, shaking her head at his charm. "Thank you, William. This is beautiful."

Finally, all eyes turned to Pero Tovar. Unlike the others, he had no elaborate box, no fine silk wrapping, only a simple cloth bundle in his rough hands. He hesitated for a brief moment, before stepping forward and carefully unwrapping his gift.

A pair of ballet shoes. Hand-stitched, perfectly measured, and crafted with such care that it was clear how much time he had poured into making them.

Y/N gasped softly, her hands flying to her mouth. "Pero..."

"I made them myself…" He muttered, his gruff voice betraying a hint of nervousness. "Figured you'd want another pair, considering how much you dance."

She took the shoes reverently, running her fingers over the soft material. These weren’t just any ballet shoes. They were made specifically for her. Her heart swelled with emotion, and without hesitation, she stepped forward and threw her arms around him. "Thank you." She whispered, hugging him tightly. "I love them."

Pero stiffened for only a second before relaxing into her embrace, his large hands resting on her back.

From the sidelines, William smirked, nudging King Randolph with an amused look. "Well, if that isn't love, I don’t know what is." The King simply smiled, watching the way the Spaniard held his daughter as if she were the most precious thing in the world.

-----

The next morning after the grand birthday celebration dedicated to Princess Y/N Lovelei, the morning sun rose gently over the Lovelei Kingdom, casting golden hues through the castle windows. The grand dining hall was filled with the soft clinking of silverware as the eleven princesses sat around the long table, enjoying their morning meal.

King Randolph took his usual seat at the head of the table, sipping his tea as he glanced toward the empty chair where his eldest daughter should have been.

It was not unusual for Y/N to be late, her love for dancing often made her lose track of time. But missing breakfast entirely? That was something new. The answer to her absence, however, was made obvious by the small orange bundle curled up on her chair. Little Leon sat proudly in the eldest princess’ place, his tiny tail swaying as he waited expectantly for his own meal to be prepared. One of the maids dutifully set down a small plate of fresh fish before him, which he sniffed at before letting out a soft meow of approval.

"She’s in the gardens again, isn’t she?" Princess Janessa, mused aloud.

"Of course…" Princess Ashlyn chuckled. "You saw how she was last night, practically glowing after Ser Pero gave her those new ballet shoes." At the mention of the soldier’s name, a few of the sisters giggled knowingly.

King Randolph listened quietly, a small smile forming on his lips. He was no fool, he had seen the way Y/N and Pero looked at each other. A man like Pero Tovar, hardened by war and the burdens of life, gazing at his daughter as though she were the brightest star in the sky. And Y/N, though full of grace and independence, allows herself to be vulnerable in his presence.

Love was brewing between them, and it was clear to anyone paying attention.

With a sigh, King Randolph set down his teacup. "If she wishes to dance, then let her." He said fondly. "She has always followed her heart, and I will not be the one to stop her now." The sisters exchanged knowing smiles before continuing their meal, while Little Leon finished his breakfast and stretched lazily, ready to return to his beloved owner.

Meanwhile, in the garden fountains, Princess Y/N was already lost in her world of movement.

The soft rustling of leaves, the distant chirping of birds, and the gentle flow of water from the fountains all served as the perfect symphony to accompany her steps. She spun effortlessly on the tips of her toes, her long hair flowing behind her, catching the morning sunlight like strands of gold. Her new ballet shoes felt weightless against the cobbled stone, fitting her feet as though they had been crafted by the heavens themselves. Her heart swelled with joy. Pero had made these for her. Every stitch, every detail, it had all come from his hands.

And she would dance for him.

She closed her eyes, letting herself move with complete freedom, imagining his warm brown eyes watching her. But what she did not realize was that her imagination was not far from reality.

Standing by the garden’s entrance, leaning against a stone pillar with his arms crossed, was Pero Tovar. He had come outside in search of some peace and quiet, only to find himself unable to move, unable to look away as he watched her.

God, she was beautiful. 

His beautiful little dancing princess.

-----

The morning sun spilled golden light through the towering stained-glass windows of Lovelei Castle, casting vibrant hues across the grand dining hall. Pero Tovar sat stiffly in a high-backed chair, feeling entirely out of place in the elegant setting. Before him, the long, polished mahogany table was set with delicate porcelain teacups, a gleaming silver tray of pastries, and a steaming pot of tea with the royal insignia etched into its side. Across from him, King Randolph Lovelei sat with an air of quiet authority, his hands folded atop the table. His eyes, aged yet sharp, studied him with an expression that the soldier couldn’t quite read.

The Spaniard had faced death countless times before. He had fought off monstrous beasts on the Great Wall, stood against armies of men far stronger than himself, and had survived the cruelest of battles. But somehow, none of that compared to the sheer weight pressing on his chest as he sat across from Princess Y/N’s father.

A servant poured their tea, the clink of china the only sound filling the heavy silence. Then at last, King Randolph spoke. “Tell me, Ser Pero Tovar.” The king said, his voice calm yet firm. “What are your intentions with my daughter?”

The question nearly made Pero choke on his tea. He swallowed thickly, setting his cup down with a clatter before wiping his palms against his trousers. There was no point in lying. He was a man of many things, some good, some bad, but he was not one to dance around the truth. He would rather face this head-on. Taking a steadying breath, he looked the king in the eye. “I love her.”

The words were gruff, spoken with raw sincerity. “I love her more than I have ever loved anything in this world.”

King Randolph remained silent, watching him intently.

Pero exhaled, running a hand over his beard before continuing. “I know what I am. I’m a soldier. A mercenary. A man who has lived his life by the sword, not by courtly manners or noble titles. She is a princess, royal, graceful, and far too good for the likes of me.” He paused, his jaw tightening. “That is why I haven’t told her how I feel. Because… what right do I have to love someone like her?”

For a moment, the room was still.

Then, unexpectedly, the king let out a soft chuckle.

The Spaniard blinked, caught off guard.

“You remind me of myself when I was younger.” King Randolph mused, taking a sip of his tea. “When I fell in love with my daughters’ mother, she was a noblewoman of the highest standing. And I? I was only the second son of a lesser king, a man not meant for the throne.” He smiled faintly, lost in memory. “I, too, believed I was unworthy of her. But do you know what she told me?”

The mercenary shook his head, listening intently.

“She said that love is not a matter of status or birthright.” The king continued. “It is a choice. A bond. And it is one that Y/N should be allowed to make for herself.”

Pero sat still, his heart pounding at the king’s words.

“I have watched you, Ser Pero.” Randolph said, his expression softening. “I have seen the way my daughter looks at you, and the way you look at her. If I had any doubt that your feelings were not true, we would not be having this conversation.”

The Spaniard swallowed, feeling an unfamiliar tightness in his chest.

“Do you wish to be with her?” The king asked, his tone quieter now, but no less serious.

“…More than anything.” Pero softly admitted.

King Randolph nodded, seemingly satisfied with the answer. Then, with a small, knowing smile, he added, “Then perhaps it is time you tell her.”

Pero’s breath hitched. He had faced many battles, but this, confessing his feelings to Princess Y/N, felt like the greatest challenge of all. Still, as he looked at the king, seeing the understanding in his eyes, a flicker of hope began to bloom in his chest.

Perhaps, just perhaps, he was worthy of her love after all.

-----

The warm glow of the afternoon sun streamed through the tall windows of King Randolph Lovelei’s study, casting golden light upon the grand chessboard that sat between him and his eldest daughter. The air was quiet, save for the occasional crackle of the fireplace and the soft clink of chess pieces being moved across the board.

Princess Y/N, perched elegantly on her seat, studied the game with unwavering focus. Her long, golden hair cascaded down her back, a few strands falling over her shoulder as she pondered her next move. She had always loved these moments with her father, these quiet games of wit and strategy where words were not needed, yet so much could be conveyed.

But today, something felt different.

King Randolph leaned back in his chair, an amused glint in his eyes as he regarded his daughter. “You seem distracted, my dear.”

Y/N blinked, quickly moving a bishop across the board. “Not at all, Father.”

The king chuckled, stroking his beard. “Oh? So I suppose it was a mere coincidence that you just sacrificed your knight so recklessly?”

She stiffened, only now realizing her mistake. Her father rarely called out her errors, unless, of course, he had an ulterior motive. The princess sighed, rubbing her temples before glancing at her father with mild suspicion. “You did not call me here just for a game of chess, did you?”

King Randolph smiled knowingly. “No, I did not.” He carefully moved his queen forward. “Tell me, Y/N… what do you think of Pero Tovar?”

The princess’ hand froze just as she was about to reach for her rook. Her heart skipped a beat, embarrassment began filling her chest. “P-Pero?” She stammered, clearing her throat. “What about him?”

The king rested his chin upon his hand, studying her intently. “He is an interesting man, wouldn’t you say? Rough around the edges, but loyal. And quite taken with you, it seems.”

Y/N immediately widens her eyes at his implications. “Father!”

“What?” King Randolph chuckled, thoroughly enjoying the rare sight of his poised and graceful daughter becoming so flustered. “I merely observed how he watches you, how he follows you into those gardens of yours without hesitation. It is quite the sight, really.”

The eldest princess quickly busied herself by adjusting one of her chess pieces, avoiding her father’s gaze. She knew she could not lie to him. He had always seen through her easily.

“…He is a good man.” She admitted quietly. “Far better than he believes himself to be.”

The king hummed, seemingly pleased with her answer. “And do you care for him?”

She hesitated, her fingers lightly tracing the edges of the rook she was about to move. Then, with a soft, almost wistful smile, she whispered, “Yes.”

King Randolph’s gaze softened. He had suspected as much, but hearing the confirmation from her own lips filled him with a strange sense of both pride and nostalgia. “You know, my dear.” He said, moving his king to safety. “Your mother once told me that love is not something dictated by blood or birthright, it is a bond, a choice.” He met her gaze. “I have seen the way you look at him. And if he is the one who makes your heart dance, then you should not let anything stand in your way.”

Y/N’s breath hitched. Her father had always encouraged her freedom, but to hear him speak so openly about her feelings left her overwhelmed. “…What if he does not feel the same?” She asked, almost afraid of the answer.

King Randolph smiled, eyes twinkling with quiet amusement. “Oh, I would not worry about that.”

The princess frowned slightly, sensing something unsaid in his words. “What do you mean?”

The king simply moved his final piece and leaned back in satisfaction.

“Checkmate.”

-----

The afternoon sun bathed the Lovelei Castle gardens in a warm golden hue, casting shimmering reflections upon the clear waters of the grand fountain. A gentle breeze carried the soft fragrance of blooming roses and fresh earth, making the entire scene feel like something out of a dream.

Princess Y/N Lovelei sat gracefully at the fountain’s edge, her fingers delicately fastening the satin ribbons of the ballet shoes Pero Tovar had gifted her on her birthday. The shoes fit perfectly, molding to her feet like they were made just for her, which, in truth, they were. With a deep breath, she rose to her feet and took her place in the center of the stone platform that extended over the water. The moment she stepped into position, all thoughts melted away. There was only the rhythm of her heartbeat, the soft whisper of the wind, and the memory of countless dances before this one.

And so, she began to move.

Her body twisted and flowed like water, each movement an effortless extension of her soul. She leaped, spun, and twirled, her dress billowing like the petals of a flower in full bloom. The ribbons of her new ballet shoes trailed behind her, painting invisible strokes against the air.

It was only when she landed from a particularly graceful spin that she noticed him.

Standing at the garden’s archway, arms crossed over his broad chest, was Pero Tovar. His dark eyes were locked onto her, admiration clear in their depths. He said nothing, but his expression spoke volumes.

Y/N felt a warm smile spread across her face. Without hesitation, she extended her hand toward him, an unspoken invitation hanging in the air between them.

For a brief moment, Pero hesitated. He always felt out of place in such an elegant world, especially in hers. But the way she looked at him, as though he belonged here just as much as she did, made it impossible to refuse.

With a deep exhale, he strode forward.

The eldest princess’ heart fluttered as he reached for her hand, his rough, calloused fingers wrapping around hers with surprising gentleness. She gave him a reassuring squeeze before guiding him onto the platform.

He knew the steps well by now, after all, she had spent countless afternoons teaching him. Pero might not have been the most refined dancer, but he always caught her when she twirled, always following her lead with unwavering trust.

And so they danced.

The Spaniard spun the princess effortlessly, and she laughed as he lifted her slightly off the ground before letting her feet touch the stone once more. Their movements were not perfect, but together, they created something beautiful. Something uniquely theirs.

As the dance slowed, Y/N found herself pressed close against Pero’s chest, his arms securely wrapped around her waist. Their breaths were heavy, but neither pulled away.

“You wear them well.” Pero finally murmured, his voice rough yet filled with something soft. His gaze flickered down to her ballet shoes.

She tilted her head, smiling up at him. “I treasure them.”

Their eyes met, and in that moment, it felt as though the entire world had faded away, leaving only the two of them beneath the golden afternoon sky. The world around them stilled. The gentle rustling of the trees, the distant chirping of birds, the trickling of the fountain’s water, all of it faded into quiet nothingness as Pero Tovar held Princess Y/N Lovelei close in his arms.

Their dance had left them breathless, their hearts pounding in unison. His strong arms remained securely wrapped around her waist, unwilling to let go, while her delicate fingers rested lightly against his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breathing. Their foreheads pressed together, eyes fluttering shut as they relished the moment. The warmth of their closeness, the rhythmic cadence of their breaths mingling, it was intoxicating, overwhelming in the most beautiful way.

Pero had never known such tenderness. His life had been filled with battles and hardships, with bloodied hands and weary nights. Yet here, in the arms of the Lovelei princess, he felt something he never thought possible.

Peace.

And then, just like that, Y/N tilted her head ever so slightly and stood on the tips of her toes.

Before he could react, her lips brushed against his in a soft, feather-light kiss.

The mercenary froze. His breath hitched, his grip on her tightening instinctively as though afraid she might disappear if he moved too fast. It was a kiss so pure, so sweet, it sent shivers down his spine.

When she pulled away, her brilliant gentle eyes gazed up at him with both nervousness and longing, her lips stretched in a small shy smile.

Pero could not help himself.

A low growl rumbled in his throat as he pulled her even closer, one arm tightening around her waist, the other cradling the back of her head. Before she could even take another breath, his lips crashed against hers once more, this time filled with all the passion he had been holding back for so long.

Y/N gasped into the kiss, her fingers instinctively gripping onto the fabric of his tunic. Pero took the opportunity to deepen the embrace, his lips moving with a desperate fervor, pouring everything he felt into her, his admiration, his devotion, his love.

It was raw. It was real. It was everything.

She melted against him, her hands sliding up to wrap around his neck as he held her like she was the most precious thing in the world.

And in that moment, to Pero Tovar, she truly was.

The Lovelei Castle gardens, which had once only been witness to the princess’s elegant dances, now bore witness to something far greater.

The beginning of a love that neither war nor status could ever hope to break.

[odetodilfs]

Me with my WIPs right now:

[absurdthirst]

St. Valentine's Miracle {Pero Tovar x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 12.9k

Warnings: Enemies to lovers, insults, mentions of prostitution, mentions of rape, violence, fighting, Tovar kills a man, adrenaline fueled sex, begging, slightly subby Pero, cock riding, unprotected sex, anger, miscommunication, pregnancy, morning sickness, throwing up, stubbornness, confessions, oral sex (female receiving), pregnancy sex, gentle Pero, childbirth

Comments: Pero Tovar infuriates you. One night, things boil over and you shift from enemies to lovers with a surprising result that changes everything on St. Valentine's Day.

A/N: ❤️❤️HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY!!!❤️❤️

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

**Follow @absurdthirst-writes and turn on notifications to stay up to date on all new fics.

|| 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.

Pero Tovar tilts his cup back, letting the last swallow of ale slide down his throat before he slams his cup down on the worn smooth rough hewn table in the middle of the tavern. A belch comes out and he smirks when he opens his mouth again. “Another ale, wench.” He demands, knowing that the request will infuriate you. Not because of the coin he spends. No, you will greedily pocket that. It’s because of him calling you a wench. Even though that is what you are, you seem to think you deserve to be called the tavern keeper. So, just to irritate you, Pero calls you a wench every time he gets a chance just to set your teeth on edge.

You clench your jaw, shaking your head as you pour another ale for the ill mannered mercenary and you carry it over to him, slamming it down in front of him so it spills. You grab the empty tankard and he smirks, tilting his head towards your cleavage that's in his face when you lean over him. "You're a pig." You scoff, grabbing your rag to wipe down the table.

Pero grunts as he reaches for the mug. Ever since he arrived in this village, ready to settle down and put his sword down for good, the two of you have been at each other’s throats. It might be because he asked how much it would be to fuck you along with he room he had wanted for the night, but how was he to know you weren’t a whore? He had assumed it was a brothel when he walked in and found a woman behind the bar. “And you are a shrew.” He shoots back.

You scoff, “I’d rather be a shrew than have your unwanted attention, Tovar.” You intentionally drag the wet rag over his face when you walk past and he sputters, “bitch.” You smirk as you stride to the bar, looking to the other patrons who are waiting for their drinks.

He scowls as he watches you stroll away from him without the extra swish a whore would put into her step. Not trying to entice a man, but your hips move generously on their own. You are confident and since that first disastrous interaction, you tolerate him like a festering sore. It wasn’t his fault he had thought you were to be bought although it never crosses his mind to apologize for the mistake. He never had to do that before. William was the sweet talker, he did the glowering. He takes another sip of his mug and then decides that he’s hungry. “Wench! Bring me some stew!” He demands, waiting until you are busy again just to get back at you.

You clench your jaw, unable to believe he is demanding. “Bastard.” You murmur under your breath, deciding to take your time to serve everyone who has been waiting before you head into the kitchen to pour a bowl of stew for him. You are tempted to spit in it but you don’t, carrying it over to the grumpy Spaniard. “Here you go.” You slam it down so it spills over a little, “impatient prick.”

He chuckles darkly. “You decided to take too long.” He huffs. “I am not hungry now.” He smirks when you whirl around and glare at him. He knows he will eat it, but it is satisfying to see your eyes flash with anger and hatred for him. “It is probably poisoned anyway.”

"I wouldn't waste the poison on someone like you." You retort, "eat it or don't. You are still paying for it." You hiss and he chuckles, enjoying seeing you so riled up and you take a breath, not wanting to give him the satisfaction. "Enjoy your meal, sir." You offer and spin around, making your way back to the bar.

Pero tucks into the stew after a moment. Eating the delicious meal eagerly. You make better food than he does and it’s not often that he would go a week without coming to eat here while drinking his ale. He just enjoys the way you spit at him.

You watch Pero from the corner of your eye as you wipe down the counter. The men are getting louder, rowdier, and you are glad you have the knife strapped to your thigh. Pero tilts his head back to sip his ale and you can't help but admire his neck, strong and muscular as he gulps. He's dangerous and a prick but damn if he isn't handsome. It's a shame he's such a prick.

“Her cunt has to be tighter than a fist.” His eyes cut over to where the two brothers that he has been at odds with talk loudly at their table. He doesn’t like many men, only one man he has ever counted as a friend and he had turned back to China to chase a woman, but he loathes these two. He itches to put a knife in the youngest throat, just to have some blessed silence from the ridiculous boasts. “Good thing you will never know.” He grunts, smirking as he takes another sip of the ale.

The younger one snorts, "says you, Tovar. She wants me. I can tell. She keeps looking over here with a look in her eyes." He smirks and his brother nods, "she definitely needs a cock inside her. Maybe she will relax a little." He smirks and you look over just as the brother winks at you. You resist the urge to wrinkle your nose but he waves you over. You sigh under your breath, knowing you need to go over there if he wants more ale. You make your way through the tavern and approach their table, "what can I get you?" You ask, gripping your skirts.

“Bend over and lift your skirts.” The older brother comments, making Pero snort and roll his eyes. At least he had offered coins for the use of your cunt. “Want to see how loud you scream in pleasure.” He continues, making Pero chuckle in disbelief. “Hard to make someone scream when you can’t find your cock beneath your belly.” He huffs as he finishes his stew and pushes the bowl back.

You chuckle, agreeing with Pero, and the brother scowls, standing from his seat. You fumble for your knife but he grabs your arms, “you dare to fucking insult me? You fucking bitch. Only good for one thing.” He growls, tightening his grip and he tries to spin you to push you face down onto the table.

Pero has no problem insulting you, trading barbs and venom with glee. He wouldn’t touch you without your agreement and he doesn’t allow any other men to abuse women around him. Especially not one who brings him his ale. The chair scrapes back loudly as he leaps up and slams against elder brother, knocking you away from his grip and growling furiously as he faces the bastard. “Don’t fucking touch her.” He warns dangerously.

You scramble away from him, chest heaving, and you watch as Pero sizes up the brother. He’s bigger than Pero but that doesn’t stop the Spaniard from getting in his face. He growls and the younger brother stands, “is she yours? I didn’t fucking think so, Tovar. So she’s fair game for everyone.”

Pero scoffs and shakes his head. “She chooses.” He spits out. “And she didn’t choose any of the limp pricks here.” His eyes cut over to you, finding you watching with wide eyes and he glances back at the two brothers. “Leave and I’ll let you breathe for another day.”

The brother snorts, looking over at you, “do you want me to fuck that pretty little cunt?” He coos and you clench your jaw, “no. No. Get the fuck out of my tavern.” You hiss, “you are barred.”

It’s obvious that he didn’t like that answer, the younger brother reaching for his dagger and Pero chuckles darkly. “Amigo, I would not do that if you wish to see the next sunrise.” He promises. “Leave and fight another day, eh?”

The brother bristles and you narrow your eyes at him, knowing he is going to struggle to walk away but his brother pulls on his shoulder. “Fuck you.” He growls, shrugging off his brother, and he brings his hand up, smacking your face so hard your head turns. “No bitch tells me what to do.”

Pero lunges at the older brother. Growling as he reaches for the dagger that is strapped to his waist. Fury clouding his vision and he grabs the other man’s hand, bringing his forehead down to slam against his, head butting him as he starts a fight with the two brothers.

You gasp, stumbling back as Pero fights the brothers. You never expected him to defend you and you fumble to pull the knife from your thigh under your skirts. Gripping it, you watch as Pero swings his knife at the older brother while the younger one stalks behind him. You step closer, acting before you think as you swipe his arm with your knife to stop him.

He sees the younger man behind him, knowing that he will do something, so he turns right as you cut him with your knife. “Bitch!” He cries out grabbing his arm before he backhands you, launching himself towards you. “I’ll teach you to say no to me and my brother!” He yells, doubling over when Pero punches him in the stomach and grabs the back of his shirt to throw him over the table. The older brother attacks him and without a second’s thought, Tovar turns and drives his blade deep into the man’s gullet.

You stumble back into the benches, watching the man choke on his own blood as Pero withdraws the knife. He falls to his knees and his brother screams in anger, surging forward to attack Pero. You grip your knife, now coated in blood, wanting to help the Spaniard but he swings his fight, punching the remaining brother while the other slumps down on the floor, choking a few more times before he goes silent.

Pero grabs the man’s shirt, hauling him close to growl fiercely. “Take your brother’s worthless body and flee.” He hisses. “Or I will kill you too.” He shoves him away and watches as the man falls back over the broken chair behind him and scrambles over to his brother’s body. Terrified that he would actually be killed. Those patrons who had not fled at the beginning of the fight quickly rush out of the tavern while Pero stands there calmly, wiping his blade clean and resheathing it in his belt. His dark eyes turn towards you, flickering down to the bloody dagger still in your grip and then back up to your wide eyes. “Another ale.” He tells you, bending down and picking up his cup off the floor.

You stare at him in shock, unable to believe he sits down and holds the tankard up towards you. You wipe the bloody knife on your skirts and you lift them to shove the knife back in your sheath and you take his cup with a shaking hand to refill it.

 The younger brother finally hauls his brother’s body out of the tavern, the place quiet except for the crackling of the fire in the hearth as you come and set the cup down in front of him. “The business is gone tonight.” He observes as he picks the cup up and takes a thirsty swallow. He feels kind of guilty that your business has died off for the night.

You glance around, finally realizing that the tavern had emptied and you shake your head, "you've scared everyone off. Now - now I will lose coins." You growl at him, the adrenaline transforming into anger. "Bastard." You murmur as you fetch him another ale. You slam it down on the table in front of him, ale sloshing, and you watch him casually take a sip, "drink up. I am closing."

He snorts and leans back against the chair. “Not very grateful for saving you.” He grunts. “Perhaps you did want your skirts tossed up.” He takes another sip of his ale, draining it until it is gone and stands to walk to the door.. “Should I call the younger one back?” He asks as he strides away

You lean against the table, chest heaving, and you growl before you charge over to him before he opens the door. “You’re a bastard.” You hiss at him, grabbing his upper arm to stop him from walking out, “and you are an ass.” He spins around, eyebrows raised, “I’m an ass for stopping them from taking what doesn’t belong to them?” He asks and you shake your head, “you’re an ass because - because-” You cut yourself by cupping his cheeks and you press your lips to his, heart pounding in your chest.

Groaning, Pero’s arms wrap around your body and he spins you around to press you against the same table he has just left. Ravenous as he licks into your mouth and tastes you when you gasp in surprise. He wants you. He’s wanted you from the first time he had seen you, thinking to buy the night between your thighs but you hadn’t been for sale. He reaches down and squeezes your ass as he hardens in his breeches. The adrenaline is still racing in his blood and turning to lust until you push him away. “What-“ he frowns, confused. Your chest is heaving and your lips are swollen from his attention.

“Shut up. Don’t talk and ruin this.” You demand, grabbing his hand from your ass to guide him through the tavern to your quarters near the kitchen. No one is allowed in here except you and that’s how it’s been until now. “Strip.” You order, wanting to see his body, one you’ve imagined more times than you’ve ever admit, even with a knife to your neck.

His brows pull together but he starts to unbutton the vest that he has started wearing over his shirt. It’s not as thick as the leather armor he had been used to, but it’s an extra layer of protection. Pulling out extra daggers that he has hidden and dropping his clothes to the ground. Pulling his shirt over his head and then bending down and hopping around on one foot as he pulls off his boots. Standing straight to find you smirking as he reaches for the laces of his breeches.

You stand there, watching him as he bares his body in front of your hungry eyes. Your chest heaves and you reach up to slowly undo the laces of your dress as he works on his breeches.

He is already half hard, but he shucks his breeches down with no shame. His cock is a good size and he’s never had any reason to doubt he could satisfy a woman. It bobs heavily, still thickening and growing as he kicks aside his breeches and stands proudly in front of you.

You shrug off the top layer of your dress and you freeze when you see his cock bouncing as he stands there. He's strong, scarred, and intimidating, but you won't let that show as you stand, continuing to undo your dress until it drops from your form. You stand naked before him, heart thumping in your chest, and you surge forward to press your lips to his again, bare skin against his.

It has been a long time since Pero has been completely naked with a woman. He groans, hands sliding down your shoulders and back, over your sides and hips until he is grabbing your ass and pulling you closer. “Hermosa.” He groans against your lip, cock twitching against your belly. So often the women he paid to fuck would just lift their skirts, so to feel your bare breasts against his chest is wonderful.

You moan as your hands caress his back, feeling the scars from battles he survived, and you slide your hand lower until you're gripping his cock. His groan is muffled against your chin and you chuckle, squeezing him and feeling him grow in your grip. "Beg me." You demand, "beg to cum."

He scoffs, scowling at you. He doesn’t beg to cum. You squeeze his cock again and he twitches in your hand. “I want to fuck you.” He admits after a moment. “I want you to beg.” You repeat and he huffs, knowing you could just as easily send him away and he would be left with just his hand for pleasure. His own hand comes up to cup your breast as his other squeezes your ass. “Let me fuck you, hermosa.” He croons softly. “You won’t regret a night on my cock.”

“Not good enough.” You squeeze his cock, pumping him slowly and his eyes flutter at the sensation. You know you won’t get what you want by telling him so you’ll get it with action. “Go lay down.” You order, pointing to the cot in your room.

It is rare that he takes orders that don't benefit him and this is no exception. You want him and if you want to ride him, he has no objections. Especially with your bare tits in his face. He moves over to the cot and lays down, finding it soft and sweet smelling, smelling like you. He wraps his hand around his cock and starts to pump it as he watches you with dark eyes.

You watch him, your cunt clenching with need, but you refuse to show it as you slowly make your way over to the cot. “You look desperate.” You mock him as you shift to straddle his thighs, looking down at the almost purple cock in his hand, “it’s pathetic.”

“It is.” His voice is raspy, low. He doesn’t stop moving his hand up and down his aching cock. “It has been a long time since I have been buried deep inside a hot cunt.” He licks his dry lips and reaches out to caress your breast. “Hermosa.” He murmurs softly.

You bat his hand away, liking how needy he looks. So unlike the harsh and demanding mercenary that orders ale in your tavern. You reach down to cover his hand with yours, working his cock. "You have to beg to fuck me." You remind him, leaning down to dribble your spit on the purple head of his cock.

“Mierda.” Pero hisses. His thighs tensing and his hands harden on your skin for a brief second before he makes himself relax. He has no wish to hurt you and make your soft skin tender. You are beautiful and he moans when your spit is rubbed over his cock with your hand. “Let me have you.” He begs breathlessly. “Sit on my cock. Let me feel your cunt around me.”

You giggle, happy to see the glazed look of lust and need in his eyes. You are dripping between your thighs and you hate how much you want him. The terrifying experience makes you desperate to feel something other than fear. You let go of his cock and he whines, making you chuckle. "Patience, Tovar." You tut and you shift up to straddle his hips, lifting yours so you can grip his cock. "Please." He murmurs and you position him at your entrance until you slowly sink down onto him.

Pero makes a strangled sound, his hands whipping to your hips and he holds them in an iron grip but he doesn’t force you to take him faster. He doesn’t snap his hips up to bury his cock deep like he wants to. His toes curl and he hisses out curses under his breath in Spanish as you take him. Loving how hot and tight you are around him.

You take him slow inside you, loving the tortured look on his face, and you shift your hands to press your palms to his chest. He's thick and he stretches you in a way that makes your breath catch. "You look so desperate, Tovar. Like my cunt is the gateway to heaven." You smirk, caressing his chest.

Scowling at you, he growls under his breath as his cock twitches inside you. Pulling a moan out of you and it’s his turn to smirk. “You are the one riding my cock like a needy whore.” He doesn’t give you a chance to respond, to spit at him. Lunging forward, he pushes you back while he lowers his head to wrap around one of your nipples.

Your breath catches and you moan his name, your fingers tangling in his hair to push him harder into your chest. “You’re a bastard.” You declare breathlessly but it doesn’t hit as hard as it should when you are grinding down onto his cock.

He chuckles against your skin, eyes flicking up to your face as his tongue slowly flicks against the distended nub. He sucks it into his mouth and hums as he pulls deep and harshly against it. Loving how your cunt walls clench around him.

You pull on his hair, dragging his face from your tit, and his neck tilts as you look down at him. “You’re a bastard.” You repeat with more conviction, rocking onto his cock a little faster as you tug on his hair and you lean down to kiss his neck, nipping it seconds later.

He groans in pleasure, sliding his hands down to your ass to help you rock on his cock before he slaps it. “You like it, eh? Me being a bastard? You like a man who is rough?” You roll your eyes at him and huff when you pull away so he drags your lips to his, his hand around then back of your neck to hold you close.

You let him push his tongue into your mouth, your fingers tangling in his hair again, and he grunts when you bite down on his lip when he withdraws his tongue. “You’re a prick who thinks he can act how he wants.” You hiss back at him, reaching for his hands from your back and you shift, pushing him back when your fingers wrap around his wrists, lifting his hands above his head. Your tits sway in his face and you are surprised he allowed you to do this. “Need someone to show you how to behave. You’re an animal.”

He watches your breasts bounce, twitching inside you but he doesn’t try to thrust up into your heat. You obviously want control. “So you will teach me?” He chuckles darkly and twitches inside you again. “You are not a princess though, are you?” He rasps out. “You are a violent wench, drawing blood tonight.” He is honestly proud of you for defending yourself, for helping him when you could have just watched. “A demon.”

You growl at his depiction of you, knowing that he’s not wrong but hearing it spoken out loud has you squeezing his wrists in your grip. “Had to help you since you had two on one and I wasn’t sure if you could handle it.” You taunt him, knowing it’s a lie but you want to rile him up.

He smirks, enjoying your banter and the way you taunt him. “I would have had no problem killing both of them.” He promises. “You are the one who was shaking when bringing me an ale.”

“In anger. You infuriate me. I have been groped and you - you escalated it. I still need to mop the blood from the floor.” You hiss. “You act without a thought.” You slam back onto his cock.

He huffs. “No, I kept a man from taking what was not his.” He grunts, correcting you. “No one else was coming to your aid.” Everyone else in the tavern had silently watched. “A man who rapes a woman deserves to die.”

“I had it handled.” You lie, knowing that he stopped one of the worst things from happening to you. You grind down, shifting to press your chest to his and he hisses at the change in the angle. “Whatever you want to believe.” He growls and you let go of his wrist, gripping his chin instead, “I don’t need rescuing.”

His dark eyes are steady on yours, watching you. “You don’t need rescuing.” He agrees, wrapping his arms around you and starting to move his hips. Thrusting up into your body while he holds you.

A cry escapes your lips and you lean down to press your lips to his, cupping his cheek and you caress it. You slide your tongue into his mouth, letting him fuck you and you moan, rocking back onto him.

This is what he craves. Kissing you back as he drives his hips up again and again. Burying himself so deep in your cunt that your walls spasm around him. One arm anchors you in place while the other cups your breast, pinching the nipple roughly as he groans into your mouth.

You pant, getting lost in the sensations, and your breath puffs against his neck as he thrusts up into you. “Fuck.” You curse, “Pero.” You are getting worked up as he thrusts up into you.

He loves the little sounds you make. The desperate mewls of pleasure that pour out of your mouth as you cling to him. Your body is getting slick with sweat and he pants out your name, rocking steadily up into you. “Cum for me.” He growls, desperate to hold out until you shout his name. 

You struggle to breathe as he thrusts up into you, your cunt pulsing as he pushes you and pushes you until you break. You cry out his name, falling apart around him, and you soak his cock. “Fill- fill me up.” You beg, needing to see and feel him fall over the edge.

Pero’s eyes roll back and he hisses through his teeth. Snarling at the command and eager to give you what you want. His grip on you tightens and it only takes a few thrusts before he is burying his cock deep and flooding your womb with his hot seed, groaning your name.

You watch him as he cums, filling your cunt and you caress his cheek, leaning down to rest your forehead against his as you try to catch your breath. “Fuck.” You curse, feeling exhausted and it takes you a while to remember the man beneath you but when you do, you shift off him, walking over to the basin to clean yourself up with a wet rag.

Pero watches you. His eyes follow you as you clean up and he doesn’t know what to say, sure that you will kick him out of your bed. So he is surprised when you bring the rag back over to him and climb into the cot with him again. “Do not ruin this.” You huff when he opens his mouth, so he doesn’t say anything. Smirking slightly as you settle down beside him and he tosses the rag to the floor after cleaning up and he closes his eyes. Eager to sleep after such a long day.

You find yourself curled into him when you wake up in the middle of the night. His arm around your waist and you smile, closing your eyes and you let yourself drift back off to sleep. You feel safe in his arms. 

****

The early morning sun hits your face and you wince, blinking as you try to adjust to the brightness. You inhale deeply and stretch, shifting to look at Pero, but you frown when you find the space he occupied is empty. The sheets cool when you touch them, and you hate that tears spring into your eyes as you get out of your bed. You reach for your shift and pull it over your head, making your way out into the tavern to see if Pero is out there. He isn't. You cross your arms and shake your head, glancing around and your eyes widen when you see the blood on the floor has been cleaned up. You are surprised and you huff, unsure of why he left without even saying goodbye.

Pero curses as he pulls the stone out of the horse's hoof, pressing against the beast’s belly and then dropping the foot. The hoof is bruised and even though he only got half of the field planted, he couldn’t make the poor beast lame by making it work while injured. “Mierda.” He hisses, straightening up and starting to unstrap the horse from the plow to guide it back to the barn. Since he was done early, he could fix the chair that had been broken in the fight last night and take it back to you. Finding himself eager to see if you are happy that he had cleaned up and fixed what was broken. Maybe he could spend the night in your bed again. It was the best sleep he had since the exhausted sleep at the wall. He smirks as looks at the barrel of water. He will have to bathe before he visits the tavern again.

You are in a sour mood all morning, preparing the stew and bread to serve and when you allow your first patrons to enter around midday. You sigh and wipe your hands on your apron, hating that you search for Pero in the crowd of men that appear. You get lost in your work, serving ale and bowls of stew until he finally walks in. He left you this morning without a word and that hurt.

By the time he had cleaned up and finished fixing the chair, the sun was starting to hang low in the sky. Holding the fixed furniture in his hand, he strides into the tavern. Immediately seeking you out, finding you bending over a table to serve ales to a group of travelers, he grunts in appreciation of the curve of your ass. Remembering how it had felt bare in his hands as you bounced on his cock. “The dead man did not stop visitors today.” He grunts, eyeing the travelers with a small smirk on his face.

You frown when he seems to return victoriously to the tavern. You huff, "I wondered where the chair went." You look down at the chair he fixed, your heart thumping, but you know he only fixed it because he felt guilty.

“What kind of stew did you make tonight?” He isn’t offended at your lack of enthusiasm for his appearance, setting the chair down and sitting in it. Secretly happy that the damn thing didn’t collapse. He’s not a furniture maker. He was a mercenary and now he’s trying to be a farmer for all the good it is doing him.

You stare at him, remembering that empty bed. He may be trying his hand at farming but he doesn’t get up at dawn with the others. Always a late start, so that excuse doesn’t wash. You swallow and glance around the tavern, taking a moment, before you look at him again, “chicken.” You declare, “killed it this morning, imagining it was you.”

He frowns at the venom in your voice and then tightens his jaw. “Then I’ll just have an ale, wench.” He grunts, narrowing his eyes at you and trying to figure out why you are still spitting at him after letting him spend the night in your bed. He had thought cumming would have made you sweeter. “I have no use for a stew to curdle my stomach.”

You huff, narrowing your eyes at him when you realize he likely killed the man because he wanted your cunt for himself. You make your way through the tavern, pouring a tankard of ale, and you just barely resist slamming it down in front of him, wanting to pour it over his head, but you sarcastically say “don’t choke on it” and spin on your heel.

Pero watches you stalk off, frowning slightly as he reaches for the ale you had poured him. He had hoped things would be different, but you still despise him. It was a good thing he had left your bed when he woke up, hating to think what your wrath would have been like had you woken to find him still asleep in your bed. “Shrew.” He huffs under his breath, tipping the mug up.

****

You frown as you look in the mirror. Standing naked, you turn to the side and back again, confused by your rounded stomach. “I can’t be.” You murmur, rubbing the small bump as you try to remember when you last bled. You squint as if it works to help you think but soon your eyes widen. “Tovar. You bastard.” You growl, knowing it’s not the man’s fault. In all your emotional turmoil after he abandoned your bed once he got what he wanted, you’d forgotten to drink your tea. You’re with child. You try not to panic, knowing you have a stable income and a home in the tavern but you worry for your child’s acceptance in the village. They will be branded a bastard, cast aside, but you know you’ll love them. Inhaling deeply, you dress and decide whether to tell Tovar. You don’t have long to decide as your name is called and you need to get to work. The stew needs to be prepared.

Pero blows out a sigh as he enters the tavern, sure that he will once again butt heads with you. It’s not as satisfying as it once had been, not when he knows how you moan and how soft your skin is. You’ve never allowed him back into your bed, not that he’s asked. The tavern isn’t full yet, but it will be. The days are getting shorter and he’s just hauled in the last of his crops. It was a decent year and he is ready to rest after the backbreaking work. “Ale!” He calls out as he moves over to his normal table.

You sigh when you hear his voice. You have been worried about how you’d feel when you see him knowing you’re carrying his child. You pour a cup of ale and carry it over to him, setting it down. “Anything else?” You ask softly, so taken back by your revelation that you can’t even muster the energy to be snarky.

He’s so surprised by your lack of attitude that he freezes for a moment, jaw slaw. “Um, stew.” He decides, just as quiet. “It smells good.” It makes his mouth water almost as much as you do. You look pretty, although maybe a little tired.

You nod, knowing you struggled to cook the stew this morning but you powered through after placing some herbs under your nose. Your heart thumps at seeing Tovar, your hands gripping the bowl as you remember what he looked like beneath you, and you shake your head, reaching for the ladle. Your stomach twists as the smell hits your nose but you take a deep breath and carry it through the tavern. Your stomach lurching and you try to calm down but when you stand in front of Tovar, you gag and throw up straight into the bowl of stew.

Leaping up, Pero manages to avoid the splash. Taking your waist gently and reaching up to hold you steady as you grip the edge of the table and empty your belly of pitiful amounts of food and drink. It might be lucky that you haven’t eaten much, but you work too hard to survive off that. “Come, hermosa.” He huffs when you finally stop retching, “let me help you to your room.” He doesn’t give you a chance to argue with him, turning you around and steering you towards the back. “I wasn’t that hungry anyway.” He jokes.

You shake your head, “I- shit. I’m so sorry.” You manage to choke out but he guides you to the chair in the corner and you watch him as he rushes to grab some water and a wet rag for you to clean yourself up. You sip the water and sigh, feeling a lot better. “Thanks.” You wipe your face with the wet rag and you sigh, “I need to get back.” Pero shakes his head, “no. You’re sick. You need to rest.” You huff, “I can’t. I need to run the tavern.” Pero growls at your stubbornness, “idiota.” He hisses, “you need to rest.” You ignore him and stand up, swaying slightly, and his hands grip your waist after he rushes over to you. “I’m fine.” You push his hands away, ignoring the way his eyes widen. “You’re-” He chokes and you snort, finishing his sentence, “pregnant.”

Pregnant. He’s never gotten a woman pregnant before. At least not that he knows of. Never wanting to leave a trail of bastards behind him because of how the child was treated. As if they were to blame for their parents. “Pregnant.” He whispers, stepping back and his eyes slide over to the cot where you had created a new life. “Are you sure?” He asks, making you snort. “I have not bleed since that night.” You hiss and he knows you would not lie about something like that. “I-I” he trips over his tongue, unsure of what to say. “The babe makes you sick?”

You nod, “yes. I thought it was a malady. I have been sick for a few days and this morning…” You bring your hand to your stomach, “I noticed a bump.” You confess, “and then I tried to remember the last time I bled. It was before that night. I don’t expect anything. I am prepared to have this child alone.” You add, not wanting him to have some sense of duty.

Pero frowns and shakes his head. “The child will be a bastard. Shunned.” He huffs, not understanding why you would say such things. “You believe that men try to abuse you now?” He snorts. “They will come sniffing when your belly grows and they know a man crawled between your legs.”

“I can take care of myself.” You growl at him, “I have a home. I have coins. I can handle myself.” Pero shakes his head, “and a child? You think it’s fair for our child to grow up as a bastard? People telling him he has a whore for a mother.” His growl makes you react before you can think and your hand comes up to slap him. You stare at him in surprise at your action and Pero’s eyes are full of hurt. “Get out.” You demand, clenching your jaw.

He hisses, his cheek stinging from the slap but he would never hit you back. His fist clenches to keep from reaching for you again and he bows mockingly. “As my lady wishes.” He huffs before he turns on his heel and walks out of your room. He knows that some will see him come out of your private area and rumors will spread, but you seem to believe that you can handle it. He needs to think about what he will do next.

You choke, tears stinging in your eyes, and you stumble over to the chair. A sob escapes your lips and your hand comes down to rest on your belly. “It’s okay. We will be okay.” You promise, sniffing as you wipe your eyes, and you stand up. Inhaling deeply, you steady yourself and make your way back into the tavern. You have a job to do.

****

The next day Pero is at the tavern well before the doors open. You don’t rent rooms, so no one comes and goes at odd hours. He sees the smoke coming out of the chimney, a lazy little curl from a banked fire so it’s possible you are still sleeping as he glances around behind the building. It’s apparent you used to have a sizable stable and he wonders if at one point the tavern was an inn. Still, the space here would allow him to erect the spit he had built last night. The wagon he had dragged into town is unhitched from the horse and he glances towards the door only a few times before he starts to get to work.

You barely manage to drag yourself out of bed, your stomach churning, and you reach for the pot you’ve taken to storing next to your cot. You retch, bringing up last night's dinner until you can breathe again. You rub your belly, “you are trouble already. Just like your father.” You snort and you work fast to clean up and get ready for the day. You steel yourself to prepare the stew as you walk into the kitchen but you are surprised when you smell something cooking. You frown, glancing around the kitchen and when you can’t see anything, you walk outside. You’re met with the sight of Tovar stirring a pot and you are shocked. “What - what are you doing?”

Pero looks up at you, still in a chemise and your feet bare. “What does it look like?” He snorts. “You should get dressed, it’s cold outside.” He knows you have been sick, he heard you from out here and he hates that his babe is being so rough on you. “The stew should be ready in a few hours.” He adds, pulling the large ladle out and handing it on the edge of the spit that holds the heavy pot over the fire he had built underneath it. He frowns when he sees you still standing in the door.

You are confused, wondering why he’s cooking a stew. “Why- why did you - why did you do this?” You ask, crossing your arms to warm yourself up a little and your shift pulls tight over your small bump. He frowns, “you were sick yesterday because of the stew. I wanted to help. I have bread too.” He says, gesturing with his thumb to the wagon. “I don’t need help.” You remind him, watching as his eyes drop down to your belly.

“No one will eat stew you have emptied your belly into.” Pero scoffs, wondering if you will be stubborn the entire time. He wishes he could curse you for it, but he likes your strong willed nature. “You should go-“ Pero shakes his head and holds up his hand. “I am not leaving. The stew is made. Accept it, hermosa.”

Your instinct is to curse him but you are so surprised by his actions. “Fine. Stand out here and cook like a housewife.” You spit, spinning on your heel to stride back into the tavern to dress. It isn’t long before you have patrons and you are serving ale. “I’ll have a bowl of the stew.” One of the men asks and you nod, making your way outside to where Pero is stirring the stew. “I have one order of the stew.”

He smirks as he lifts a brow. “How are you going to carry it into the tavern when you can barely stomach the smell of it?” He asks, taking the bowl out of your hand and waving you away. “I will bring it.” He grumbles as he starts to serve up a generous portion of the stew. It’s rich and fragrant, although he can see you swallowing harshly at the scent. “Go inside. I will find him.” He huffs.

You nod, unwilling to argue when he steps away and you get a breath of fresh air. Leaning against the wall for a second, you wonder if you’ll be like this until the babe is born. You hope not. You’re going to struggle to work if that’s the case. You make your way back inside and see Pero serving the man, taking the coins for the ale and the stew, and when he passes by, you stop him. “Thank you.” You murmur, knowing you can’t let him do all this without a word of appreciation.

He doesn’t say anything, just nodding his head once and he holds out his hand to offer you the coins. “Let me know when someone else orders the stew.” He murmurs after a moment. “I will take care of it for you.” He doesn’t want to crowd you, knowing you will take offense, but it cannot be good to get sick every time you need to serve some stew.

You request stew several times from him until the ale is flowing and the customers are slowly making their way home. Your feet ache and you take a moment to sit down when you see Pero cleaning the stew pot outside. When he’s done, he strides into the tavern, and you stand to fetch him a cup of ale.

“You should rest.” Pero takes the ale and takes a large gulp of the brew. “I have to get more ale out of the cellar.” You groan softly and he frowns. “You lift those barrels?” He demands, aware that the casks of ale are smaller than some of the giant ones he has seen in some fortresses, but it is still too much for you to do by yourself. “I will do it, hermosa.” You stiffen angrily as if he has insulted you. “I don’t need your help.” You hiss, even as he can see how tired you are. “I can provide for myself just fine.” Pero grits his teeth, annoyed that you are being so stubborn. “Why are you being such a bitch?”

Your chest tightens and your pulse flutters in anger. “I’ve been alone since my mother died. I was one and four. I have had to do everything by myself. Survive. My mother let my father have the power over her. She didn’t know how to do anything and when he left, she fell apart and I had to take over. I had to be the parent. I am used to doing everything by myself and I don’t like owing anyone.” You answer truthfully, “so if that makes me a bitch then so be it.”

Pero frowns, softening and shuffling where he stands. Awkward and unsure of what to say. “Then be a bitch.” He says gruffly, nodding. “I will not stop helping. Even when you spit at me. It is my doing that you are sick. Leave the ale, I will do it before you open tomorrow.” He moves over to the table and sets down the last of the bread that he had brought. “Eat and rest. I will leave you in peace for now.” He nods to you again. “Buenos noches, hermosa.”

You watch him go, glancing at the bread he had left for you, and you sigh as you reach for it. You’re hungry and tired and annoyed at him for making it harder to hate him today. It’s easier for everyone if you push him away. You won’t suffer the heartbreak and your child won’t lose a parent. It’s best if they never know what they could’ve had.

The next morning, he’s at your back door before you are awake. Knocking quietly, and shuffling as he waits. He feels bare without armor and weapons, fingers twitching over the small wooden toy that he had carved last night. It’s rough and not very good, but he had remembered it being one of the few toys that he had when he was a boy.

You hear the knock and your heart thumps as you wrap your blanket around your shoulders, making your way to the front door with a candlestick in hand to defend yourself. You carefully open the back door and see Tovar standing there. “What are you doing?” You gasp, shocked to see him as you grip the candlestick.

“I’m here to change the barrels out.” He reminds you, grunting out the response with a small eye roll. “And give you this.” He thrusts the small wooden toy at you, waiting for you to mock the effort that he put into it. It’s poor quality, but he wants his child to have things that he had made for them.

You lower your arm with the candlestick and place it on the table by the back door before you take the small wooden horse with wide eyes, surprised that he can whittle something so delicate. “Tovar-” You murmur and he snorts, “I know it’s shit but I wanted our child to have one thing from me.” He says and tears sting in your eyes at the gesture. You’ve been teary since you found out and you realize the babe is really affecting you.

He frowns at your tears and shuffles, not good with emotions. “It’s not that bad.” He grumbles as he stares at you looking down at the little toy. “I had one, when I was a boy. Only toy I remember ever having.” He confesses. “My first sword was real.”

Your heart clenches at that, knowing he started fighting when he was very young to earn money for his family. “It’s - it’s perfect.” You assure him, “I love it.” Your eyes meet his and a tear falls down your cheek, “for our child.”

“I was a bastard.” He announces, jaw tense. “My father never acknowledged me. Never gave my mother anything for me.” Swallows harshly. “I am not the same man my father was.” He spits. “I’ve killed men, I’ve stolen. I lie. But I would never let my child starve, bastard or not.” He turns and moves towards the doorway that leads to the main area of the tavern to start moving the empty ale kegs out to make room for the new ones.

You can see the determination on his face and it makes your breath catch. He’s serious. “You don’t have to be - I don’t want you to be here through a sense of duty. Our child deserves to have two parents that love them. Not obligated to be around.” You say, fiddling with the toy.

Pero stops and turns back towards you. His eyes are unreadable and he swallows. “I never do anything I don’t want to do, hermosa.” He promises.

You know that's the case. He's as stubborn as a mule. You know he would run for the hills if he didn't want to be a father. You aren't convinced yet but you are softening. Must be the baby making you see him in a new light.

You don’t say anything else, so he turns back to the front room. Knowing that he needs to get the keg changed out and have you show him how to get into it to draw up mugs of ale. He’s not sure about things like this, but he knows that you need more rest, you can’t be running about all the time doing everything yourself.

**** 

It's been a few months since you found out you're with child and you thought Tovar would be long gone by now but he's here, changing kegs and cooking stew. As soon as he collects the coins for the payment, he deposits them into your hand. You are getting bigger but you've managed to conceal your bump beneath your skirts, not wanting anyone to know and already brand your child a bastard before they are even born. You have found yourself growing softer towards the Spaniard. He arrives at the tavern at dawn and leaves after the last patron has left. You are shocked by his dedication to you and the baby without any demands for physical appreciation and pretty words. He's also made more toys for the child, spending his free time gathering cloths and he even paid one of the older women to knit several clothes for the babe. He has proven himself to be someone you can rely on and that has made him infinitely more attractive. You watch him as he works and at night, you touch yourself to thoughts of the night you conceived the baby.

Pero grins as he runs his hand along the smooth surface of the wood. His carving has much improved. Nights spent alone, thinking about you growing his babe as he makes little toys has steadied his hand. Fixing broken tables and chairs for the tavern has taught him how to fit furniture together better. This piece, this is for you. The crib he has carved and built is already standing in the corner of his cottage, ready to deliver to you. Now that this piece is done, he will take a risk and show you how he feels. After all, it is St. Valentine’s Day tomorrow.

You take a drink of water and rest for a moment after you wash several dishes. Pero had come early to cook the stew and you had sent him to fetch some apples from the orchard nearby. You are craving an apple pie and you also want to bake to thank Pero for all his hard work. You look up as he walks in the tavern, his signature scowl on his face until his eyes meet yours and his expression softens. That makes your heart flutter. It’s St Valentine’s Day and your tavern has been full of amorous couples wanting a meal before they retire to the inn. You wipe down the counter as he walks over to you, bag of apples in his hand. “Thank you.” You smile, “I can’t wait to bake those.”

Pero nods and watches as you turn to move towards your dough that you have been working on. Baked pies and breads have been far easier on your stomach than the stews you serve your guests. He likes watching you as you work. “I will check the floor.” He announces. “You work on your pies, hermosa.”

You watch him go, strong shoulders and a threatening gait has your cunt clenching as you remember what he felt like beneath you. In the time he’s been helping, he’s opened up, talking to you even if you don’t respond, and you found his voice soothing and his stories interesting. Even if you sometimes roll your eyes. You prepare the pies with the apple and you place them in to cook as Pero bids goodbye to the last patron. “Lock the door. I’m closing early. No one is here. Apparently they are all celebrating love.” You snort, wiping your hands on your apron.

“Sí.” He frowns, sure that the pies were to sell, but you should be able to make some coins off of them tomorrow. “Come to your rooms.” He urges you. “I have something to show you.” He’s nervous, hoping you like the gifts he had managed to sneak into your bedroom while you had been busy.

You frown in confusion but nod, letting him guide you to your rooms with his hand on your back. You open the door and he ushers you in, waiting for you to notice and when you do, your eyes widen. “Oh my-” You choke, walking over to the crib. “You made this?” You ask him in awe, caressing the wood that’s been delicately carved.

“I did not know if you had one.” He explains, reaching up and rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment. “The babe- I thought it would be nice to have a bed for it to sleep in.” He hopes you like it. You look like you are about to cry again. He prefers when you yell at him over the tears. “If you do not like it-“ he shrugs helplessly.

You shake your head, turning towards him, and you can’t help but wrap your arms around his neck. “Thank you.” You choke, sobbing as this becomes real. You’re going to be a mother. You’re going to have a baby. “It’s perfect.”

It's the first time he’s really touched you besides his fingers brushing yours when he gives you the coins since the day he found out you were pregnant. The bump pressing against his stomach is larger than it was before. His arms come around you and he holds tight for a moment. “There’s something else.” He tells you softly.

You pull back to look into his eyes, confused until he gently turns you. You gasp when you see what is at the end of your cot. “Pero…” You murmur in awe of his craftsmanship. You caress the trunk, admiring the carved butterflies and flowers in the wood. “It’s beautiful.” Your heart flutters and you can’t believe he made this for you.

“You deserve it.” He hums, watching you as your fingers trail over the delicate carvings. You are so beautiful, full of his child, full of life. “I didn’t see one, so I thought that you deserved a place to put your things.”

“I never took you as being observant.” You scoff playfully and he narrows his eyes, shaking his head, “I noticed. That night.” He reveals and you step closer to him, your hand on your bump. “Why - why did you do this?” You ask, looking back at the trunk.

“Open the trunk.” Pero orders quietly, watching you with dark eyes. “Please, hermosa.” You look surprised that he would use manners and he snorts in amusement. “I am not a man who speaks prettily, who has words to say.” He tells you as you kneel down in front of the trunk. “I am a man who speaks with his hands. His actions.”

You frown, confused by the request, but you open the trunk. "Pero." You gasp, pulling the fabric out of the trunk and the beautiful dress unfolds. The patterns are more intricate than anything you've ever seen before. The color is stunning. "It's - it's perfect." You choke, turning to look at him, the dress in your hands and you feel overwhelmed. "Where did you get this?"

“I had it made for you.” He explains. “From fabric I brought back from China.” He ducks his head, hoping you like it. “It is large enough for you to wear now, and when you have the babe, you can take it in.” He wanted you to enjoy it right away. “The patterns remind me of you.” He admits softly. “Hermosa….Beautiful.”

You look back at the dress, tracing the intricate pattern and you have never seen anything like this before. You gently lay the dress down in the trunk, shifting to stand and Pero rushes forward to take your hands, helping you stand. You look at him when you're upright, and his dark eyes are apprehensive. You know he's not a man of words and he's shown you how he feels in his actions. Your heart flutters and you surge forward, cupping his cheeks to press your lips to his.

Pero hums in surprise and his eyes flutter as he slowly wraps his arms around your thickened waist and draws you closer to him. Keeping the kiss just as gentle as it started, his heart pounds in his chest, hoping that you feel the same way.

The kiss is gentle, such a contrast from the rough nature of the mercenary. He pulls back after a moment and you caress his cheek. "I'll say it for both of us. I love you." You murmur, looking at him with adoration. You never imagined that you'd fall for him but seeing how he's been taking care of the tavern for you and now the gifts...it's hard to resist him.

“You do?” He whispers softly, thinking that he might be in a fevered dream. “You love me?” His hand moves around to cup your belly tenderly. “I love you and I love our child. I want to- to be here, with you.” He admits, pressing his forehead against yours. “To marry you.”

"Do you know what my first thought was when I saw the dress?" You ask softly, nudging his nose with yours. He doesn't say anything, wanting you to continue. You smile, "I imagined getting married in that dress. To you."

“Do you want to say our vows before the babe is born?” He asks seriously, arching a brow as he starts to smile. “We can see if the priest will marry us tomorrow.”

You can't believe this is happening but your chest tightens with happiness. "Tomorrow. I want to be your wife tomorrow." You promise, an excited giggle escaping your lips. Pero nods, "tomorow." You caress his cheek, "promise me you won't be easier on me just because I'm your wife."

Pero snorts in amusement. “You wouldn’t let me.” He predicts. “You will still grumble and fight, making my cock hard every time you do.” He smirks when your eyes widen. “I am a difficult man, hermosa. You don’t think fighting makes me hard?”

You smirk, sliding your hands down to his chest, feeling his heart beating beneath your palm. "It's a good thing I want you to fuck me every time you make me angry." You giggle when he growls and his hands slide down to squeeze your ass, "whenever you want, amor." You moan and lean in to kiss him, sliding your hands into his hair.

Pero still lets you control the kiss. His mouth opens in invitation and he groans when your tongue touches his. He turns you both and starts guiding you towards your cot. “We will have to get a bigger bed.” He grunts with a smile.

You giggle, reaching for the hem of his shirt, grateful he doesn't wear his armor. He pulls back for a moment to let you lift his shirt over his head, exposing his chest. "Farming has made you stronger." You observe the more prominent muscles on his body. "Wanted to provide for you and the babe." He explains and you sigh happily, leaning in to kiss the skin above his heart. "My husband." You murmur, leaning back and his hands reach for the ties that keep your dress together.

He slowly starts untie your laces. “You are so beautiful.” He murmurs. “Stole my breath that night.” He groans when your breasts fall out of the chemise when he pulls down your dress. “They are bigger.” His greedy hands cup them and weigh them in his palms for a moment.

You giggle at the hungry look on his face, "they are. They ache...you could help me soothe it with your tongue, my love." You hint, shrugging off your chemise so it falls to the floor and you are left naked in front of him.

Your belly is large, rounded heavily without the concealing layers of your dresses. “Hermosa.” He whispers, twitching in his breeches as he slides his hands to your waist to bring you closer to him. Leaning down, he presses his lips to your stomach. “Mi bebé.” He murmurs softly, looking up at you after he kisses your skin.

You run your fingers through his hair as he caresses your belly. "Our baby." you murmur, smiling at him. His eyes soften and you pull him closer to kiss his lips. His hands caress your waist and you reach down to start untying his breeches. "Need you, Pero. Touched myself so many times thinking of that night. The baby...makes me desperate for your touch."

“Just the baby?” He chuckles as he stands up to make it easier to shuck his pants. He’s already hard and aching, a constant state of being around you. “You are sure that it is just that and not being eager to take my cock again?” He teases. “You screamed my name the last time.”

"In frustration. You didn't make me cum fast enough." You retort, reaching out to wrap your fingers around his hard length after you lick your palm. He groans and you chuckle, starting to pump him. "I bet you want me to scream it again for you."

“Yes.” He pants out, rocking his hips towards your touch. “Stroked my cock every night thinking about how your cunt felt around me.” He grunts. “Hated leaving that morning.” He moans softly when you squeeze him. “Needed to work, show you that I could provide for you if I had a chance to win your heart.”

“I wish you would’ve stayed. You hurt me when you left.” You confess, “thought you just wanted my cunt and you had gotten what you wanted and left.” You sigh as you stroke him.

Pero frowns and he reaches down to cover your hand, making you stop. His eyes are dark and somber as he looks at you. “Never, hermosa.” He promises you. “I want you until I am taking my last breath. I wanted to give you more than just a gruff mercenary.”

You pull your hand away from his cock, dragging him down onto your cot, and you straddle him with your belly pressed between you. "You were enough." You promise, cupping his cheeks, and his hard cock is pressing against your pelvis. "You are enough."

“How do you want this, hermosa?” He asks softly, knowing what your belly is large enough that he would not want to risk being on top of you. He would not hurt the baby. “I want to make you feel good.” He licks his lips and kisses you. “There’s- have you ever had a man kiss your cunt?” He asks. “It is done. I have done it before. Women like it.”

You shake your head, "no. I - that sounds - I want it. I want you to do it." You plead softly, your hand coming up to squeeze your breast. "I can get on my knees." You say as you shift off the cot, kneeling on the end of it with your hands gripping the edge. You look back over your shoulder to where Pero is leaning against your pillow. "Please, my love." You beg, needing to feel him.

He chuckles as he leans forward, caressing your ass. “I have never done it from this position, but it should be the same, no?” He asks, letting his fingers slide down the crevice of your ass and over your puckered hole to finger the wet folds of your sex. “Relax, esposa, I will make you feel good.” He coos, confident he will make you squeal with his tongue. He leans forward and has no hesitation as he dives into your folds, his nose pressed against your other hole.

You gasp, leaning forward on your forearms to give him more access, and you moan when his tongue pushes into your cunt. It’s unlike anything you’ve ever felt. His tongue is magic, curling as his hands squeeze your ass, “fuck.” You curse, tits swaying as you grind back onto him.

He hums as he licks into you, tasting your musky essence. You are tangy and sweet, delicious and he loves how wet you already are. Growling into your cunt as he devours you, feasts on you like he is a man starved. Until he pulls back. “Turn over, hermosa.” He orders. “Lay on your back so you can rest while I make you cum.”

You nod, shifting away from him so you can carefully lay down. Your bump blocking your view of him as he settles between your thighs. Your chest heaves as his tongue slides between your folds again, flicking your clit with each swipe, and you pant his name.

Pero groans into your cunt, finding you completely addictive. He could spend forever right here, making you whimper his name like that. Sliding a hand up your hip, he covers your baby bump possessively as he sucks your clit into his mouth.

You moan, reaching down to tangle your fingers in his hair as you slowly rock your hips up into his mouth. "Fuck." You curse, wishing you could see him below your bump.

He chuckles and hums as he slides his tongue around your clit, just missing it until you whine in protest. “How do you feel now, hermosa?” He rasps, his cock aching to sink into you, but he’s going to give you this before he does. Show you how he feels for you.

“Good. So good. Need you inside me.” You demand and he shakes his head against your folds, “not yet.” He says, taking your clit into his mouth to suck hard on it. You whine, chest heaving.. Your thighs squeeze his head and you moan his name.

You are close, he can taste the desperation in your body. The way your thighs tighten around him and he doesn’t let up. Sliding his hand higher, he cups your breast and flicks his thumb over the hard nipple as you come close to shattering around him.

You pant, getting closer and closer to the edge, “fuck.” You moan, covering his hand with yours. “I love you.” You pant and it transforms into a cry as you cum, your orgasm racing through your body.

Pero groans, lapping at your clit and drinking down the juices that are pouring out of you. Working you through it until your body goes lip and your thighs tense every time his tongue touches you. He kisses your thigh and then your stomach as he pushes to his hands and looks up at you with a wicked smirk. “Delicious.”

You giggle at the mischief on his face and you watch as he kneels so you reach down to grip his cock. “Need you inside me, my love.” You plead, slowly stroking his cock.

“I don’t want to crush you.” He pants, eyes rolling back as you touch his aching cock. “Turn on your side.” He grunts. “I will fuck you that way, so I am not on top of you.”

You nod, letting go of his cock so you can shift onto your side. Your hand on your belly as you watch him move. He looks deadly when he’s moving around the tavern but right now he’s soft and slow as he moves to lay down behind you.

He slides one arm under your chest, cupping one of your breasts while he takes his cock in his hand and shuffles his hips forward. “Put your leg on top of mine.” He grunts, twitching when you open up for him and he feels the wet slick of your folds against his cock. “Te amo,” he murmurs. “I love you.” He vows as he slowly starts to push inside your walls.

Your mouth falls open as he stretches you out, his cock filling you up in the way you’ve craved since he left your bed - even if you hated him for a while. You whimper and reach for his hand, gripping it as he starts to move inside you. “Love you too.” You promise, closing your eyes as you focus on him.

He starts slowly, not wanting to hurt you or the baby. He’s never fucked a pregnant woman before and he would be more uncertain except you are moaning your encouragement. Still, he doesn’t snap his hips like he would have, keeping the thrusts long and drawn out as he moves in and out of your body. Murmuring how perfect you are and how he has dreamed of this.

You moan, “feel so good, Pero.” You caress his forearm as he caresses your bump. You whimper as he rocks into you, slow and deep, and you turn your head to watch him as he thrusts into you. “I love you.” You murmur, kissing his jaw.

“I love you too.” He groans. “I prayed today. To St. Valentine. Praying that you would accept me. Let me be your husband.” He confesses, having spent so many years avoiding his faith, but he had wanted you too much to risk not praying to the saint of lovers.

You are surprised by that and your heart clenches at that confession. “He answered your prayers.” You smile, “and I’m so happy he did. I want to be your wife tomorrow and our child will be coming soon.”

“Our child.” He smiles, happy that you are carrying his child. “No one will doubt the child is mine.” He vows. “I will take care of you while you are recovering.” While he might not have had sex with a pregnant woman, he had been around them, and their babies when he was younger. He remembers that they needed loving care and it affected their health when they didn’t get it.

You love how he is promising your care and your heart flutters as you kiss his jaw. “I love you.” You promise him again, “you are going to be my husband. And a brilliant father.” You lift your leg a little higher.

He’s scared, probably more scared of failing than he was of the monsters in China. But for now, he slowly rocks into you. Touching you, kissing you. Eventually his fingers find your clit again as he thrusts. “Cum for me, esposa.” He groans in your ear as he rubs your clit.

“Fuck. You’re - it’s so good.” You moan, walls fluttering around his cock. He’s working you up, calloused fingers rubbing your clit, and you cry out moments later. Clamping down on his cock, you soak him and squeeze your eyes shut, “Pero. Oh fuck.” You gasp, thigh shaking in the air.

He groans, loving how you come apart for him. Kissing along your jaw while your cunt soaks his cock. He keeps working into you, so close himself that it only takes a few more thrusts before he is pushing deep. Flooding your walls with his seed. “Fuck, hermosa.” He hisses. “So perfect.”

**** 

“You bastard!” You curse Pero as you squeeze his hand. The pain makes you cry out as you try to push. Your wedding ring digs into his palm and your brow is covered in sweat.

He would chuckle but he hates seeing you in so much pain. “Sí, esposa.” He agrees, listening to the midwife huff as she hustles about the room. She had been annoyed that Pero insisted on staying with you while you fight to bring his child into the world. The tavern out front is empty, he had kicked everyone out when your first pains had been felt; although there is a crowd of people outside waiting for news. The entire village had apparently known you were pregnant and just kept their opinions to themselves. They liked you and they liked that Pero took care of you, your wedding solidifying their feelings. “I am a bastard for doing this to you, I will never touch you again, eh?”

You hiss as you bear down before you inhale deeply, trying to breathe through the pain as the midwife had instructed you. “Never. No matter how good you fuck me.” You pant out, squeezing his hand even harder as you scream, pushing again when the midwife is between your thighs and she grins, “there’s the head.”

“Our bebé, hermosa.” Pero twists his body, wanting to see and he swallows harshly when he sees the bloody crown of his child’s head between your legs. “Already beautiful.”

You pant, trying to catch your breath to prepare you for the next push. “Okay dearie. Let’s push again. On three. One…two…three.” She orders and you scream through gritted teeth, squeezing Pero’s hand to the point that he hisses in pain.

He knows you hurt, reaching for the rag again to wipe the sweat from your face when you finally relax again. “Almost there. You are doing good.” He grunts, although he has no idea if you actually are. He just wants to encourage you. “Get it over with, esposa. Hold your child.”

You growl at his demand, “fuck you, Tovar.” You hiss at him and he smirks, making you hiss in fury. The midwife watches on in shock at the way you speak to your husband but the insult works as the child slides free of your body. Your gasp of relief echoes in the room and moments later, your child’s cry fills the air. You sob, reaching for the babe.

Pero watches in wonder as the midwife brings the child up to your chest, still covered with blood and whatever else was involved with childbirth. He leans over the two of you, instantly in love. “It’s a girl?” He asks, not seeing a cock before the baby was wrapped up in softly blankets. “Yes.” You answer and the midwife wonders if Pero is upset, but the gruff mercenary just beams proudly. “Valentina.” He offers. “We should name her Valentina.”

You have tears running down your face as you look at the squawking baby. You stroke her cheek as she roots to find your nipple and you help her, in awe of her and totally in love. “Valentina.” You murmur, “after the day we finally confessed how we felt.” You look up at Pero and offer him a watery grin. “I love it. I love her. I love you.” You rush out, feeling so overwhelmed.

“I love you, esposa. Just like I love our baby girl.” He leans over and kisses your lips softly before pressing his lips to her now dry and wiped off head. “So tiny.” He worries, pulling back and watching in wonder. “Are you sure there is not another babe in her belly?” He demands to the midwife. “She was so large.”

You scoff and reach out to hit him, “you’re such a prick.” He chuckles and the midwife is surprised by your relationship but she can see how much you love each other. “You wouldn’t have me any other way, esposa.” He smirks and you roll your eyes, “no. I wouldn’t. Valentina and I are lucky to have you. Most of the time.” You tease and Pero huffs, leaning down to kiss you. “Pain in my ass.” He mutters against your lips and you smile, knowing that despite your bickering, you’ll be spending the rest of your life with him.

[prolix-yuy]

Ah, but it's cold outside

Pairing: Modern!Pero Tovar x F!Reader

Summary: If you could throw Pero Tovar out of your bed and breakfast you would, but something more than your constant bickering keeps him darkening your door.

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: Explicit, 18+ MINORS DNI, descriptions of male and female bodies, fingering, PiV sex, consenting unprotected sex (don't be a fool, wrap your tool), cumming inside, allusions to oral sex (f receiving), Pero Tovar is Uncircumcised, pain kink, exhibitionism, slight degradation kink, enemies to lovers as self-actualization? We love to see it.

Notes: Happy Holidays @221bshrlocked! I am your not-so-Secret Santa for @pedrostories Secret Santa event! I love love LOVED your prompts and had to give you as many as I could possibly jam into one fic. Plus it's been a while since I've written Pero and I need that grumpy man to get his ass handed to him every now and then. I hope you enjoy!

Cross-posted on AO3

With the wind howling outside and the lights flickering dangerously, the last person you want to see on your front steps is Pero Tovar. But you barely have time to register the dark-haired pain in your ass before he’s pushing past you and into the warm haven of your bed and breakfast.

“I wasn’t expecting you for another week,” you call over your shoulder, closing the door against the freezing air. Even when the latch clicks the force of the gusts still rattles the door. 

“I wasn’t expecting a warm welcome,” he huffs, swatting snow off his wool jacket to puddle on the floor. Rolling your eyes, you stalk into the kitchen for towels. 

“It’s late, what do you want?” you call from the other room, unable to stop yourself from twisting your mouth into a pretty fair imitation of Pero’s scowl. You’d just turned off all the lights, only the twinkling glows of Christmas decorations still lighting the main floor. 

“The road’s snowed out, I can’t see shit. I debated on whether it would be easier on my nerves to keep going or stop here.” He waves at your exasperated face when he catches the towel you toss. “I haven’t decided yet.”

The telltale frustration rises in your throat, and you swallow it down. “I don’t have any rooms, everyone’s hiding out from the storm.” Busying yourself with the late-night tasks you know by heart, Pero thumps along behind you.

“Believe me, I would rather be in my own bed than your ‘charming’ ones, but I am out of options. Anything. A couch. It’s too cold to sleep in the truck.”

There it is again, that seething annoyance climbing up your spine. You take in a deep breath, holding it for a few seconds before gesturing at the common room.

“The couch is the best I can do.”

Before you’re done speaking he’s striding in, shucking off his jacket to drape over a chair before kneeling by the dying fire. You’re about to scold him for kicking it back to life but if the power does fail the heat will be welcome. 

“I have to finish closing up, yell if you need something,” you add, his dismissive wave meeting your mocking wave back. The scrunch in your shoulders eases partway through the mess of dishes you’re washing, thankful that the silence of late nights is still yours even with the eerie howls and creaks of the storm surrounding you.

Yours and Pero’s relationship was barely that, if anyone asked. When he first came to town you were elated that a carpenter-handyman type was finally local. You had so many projects half-finished or begging to start in your bed and breakfast, a cozy Tudor-style house you bought at the peak of another career crisis. Thankfully this choice was a revelation, even with the tremendous undertaking. The pipes were of indeterminate age and prone to cracks, the noise of the radiators a heart-pounding alarm clock. The unpleasant odors of past smokers and bad cooks hung heavy everywhere you turned, but paint and YouTube videos and determination brought it up to a standard you were proud of. However, you didn’t want to know what electrocution feels like, or be chummy with the scent of carbon monoxide, so after a proper number of niceties and crossed paths you invited Pero over. 

The first day he darkened your door, you felt something wildly different than his entrance this evening. He was dark haired, roguish in an unfamiliar way. Simply dressed in jeans and a canvas jacket over a black t-shirt, his frame tugged against mouthwatering places you tried not to stare at. He was polite, wiping his feet at the door and setting his toolbox down gently. His accented voice was deep, sonorous, goddamn sexy. You had to focus on showing him the finicky electrical box and the concerning gas hookup in the kitchen to stop your mind from wandering to steamy romance novel plots. 

Then he started speaking, and it all went to hell. 

“You should take down the curtains too,” he hummed, the cadence almost masking the disdain before your brain snapped to attention.

“The…curtains? Are they a fire hazard?”

“No, they are ugly.”

Heat flooded your face, your teeth clacking together as you whipped to look at Pero. His face is the picture of disgust, and when he meets your eyes there isn’t a hint of embarrassment in them. “Did they come with the place?”

“No, they fit the aesthetic.”

“This is an aesthetic?”

You raised your eyebrows, hands on your hips but he didn’t back down one bit. He kept talking.

“I thought the furniture was from the previous owner. Cheaper, you know. You like it?” He looks around as if someone would back him up, but you just fold your arms.

“People don’t come to a bed and breakfast because it’s modern, they come because it’s quaint and charming and…”

“...cheaper than the Marriott…”

“And how would you do it then? Design the space for me, oh wise one.”

“Not how my grandmother would do it.”

Pero did not get your business that day.

Embarrassingly enough, he did get it three weeks later when your gas line started leaking. He critiqued how many mouse droppings were behind the stove and recommended an exterminator. You almost threw him out.

So if anyone asks, you and Pero do not have a relationship. You have a business agreement, at best. A begrudging one. He comes when you call - not quickly, of course, and it feels like a personal slight even when he insists he has many clients - and you pay him after haggling over the cost of the pipe or how long he actually worked for (he has a tendency to charge for his hour-long lunch breaks). He makes his snide little comments and you spit a retort back, and sometimes you swear you catch him smirking to himself after you deliver something especially sharp. 

As you dry your hands, you dwell maybe a few minutes too long on this. You’d never admit it in earshot of his big head, but there’s something incredibly freeing about talking to Pero. Sure, he criticizes and complains about anything he comes within five feet of, but he’s never cruel to you. He never speaks down to you, or makes you feel inferior because you don’t know something. Most of the time he explains what he’s doing so you can do it yourself, with only a few jabs thrown in for flavor. No contractor has ever treated you as capable before. Most try to talk over your or around the topic, and you have to smile and gently redirect them to understand that yes, you are aware of what an impact driver is and no, you think drywall screws would be overkill to reattach that molding. You’d rather snark at Pero all day then have one of those pillow-scream-worthy conversations again.

Shaking off the retrospection, you take a plate of leftover roast chicken and potatoes into the common room. Pero, as you expected, has stoked the fire into an almost concerning blaze but the warmth is welcome. He’s settling back into the well-worn couch and scrolling on his phone as you plop the plate on his lap. Your knuckles graze the top of his thigh when you withdraw, a nervous tingle dancing through your stomach.

What the hell was that about? It’s Pero, for fuck’s sake.

“Eat,” you order, rounding the couch to drop into the open space. If there’s one order Pero will never argue about it’s to eat, which he does with gusto and a nod in your direction. The crackle of the fire covers the ravenous chewing - even barely hungry he eats like a man starved - as you let your body relax into the cushions. All the guests are tucked away, breakfast is prepped and ready, and the silence is welcome. Unfortunately, it’s short-lived.

“I did not think you would be fully booked. I wouldn’t have bothered stopping by.”

It’s too late and you’re too tired to deal with this bullshit right now. You press the heels of your hands to your eyes.

“And why would you think that Pero? Because somehow I could never run a business this well?”

“That’s not…”

“Or am I not paying you enough? Are we about to have a heart to heart over hourly rates?”

“I am not…”

“Then fucking out with it then! If you hate being here, being around me so much, then just tell me why so I can stop trying to give a shit about it.”

The silence that follows pulls your hands from your eyes, and where you thought Pero would be glaring at you he’s…confused. Which is…also confusing.

“I thought this was fun,” he says, voice softening to a rumble that loses its edges in the fire. “The, you know, the back and forth.” He studies his hands, blunt thumbnail dragging along a knuckle. “Most people defer to me because I’m…” Gesturing at himself, what could be a brag instead is dripping with annoyance. “The men pretend to be in league with me, and the women laugh at everything I say. It’s so…boring.”

You’re frozen in place, brows knit as you let him speak, a tingle rising up the back of your neck and flooding your fingertips.

“Any bullshit that entertains me, I can do with them. But not with you.” He can’t meet your eyes, instead staring into the fire that paints the planes of his face in luscious amber. “You never let me get away with shit. I like that. I thought you liked that too. You always seemed to get…brighter when we were…” His hands come up and make little quibbling mouths, finally looking at you. 

Have you ever seen his gaze so bare before?

“I’m sorry, I misunderstood.”

Inside your body, a mounting wave of understanding and excitement fills your limbs. No one has ever praised your fire, your brightness, only wanting to tamp it down into something manageable and palatable. Now before you is a man who not only revels in it, but encourages it? You’ve never felt this thrum of excitement before, like holding a tuning fork against your sternum. 

“You did,” you say, the strength of your voice surprising. Rising to stand, Pero’s chin tilts, a supplicant before you. “Because if you had given me even an inkling of an idea that this was foreplay, I wouldn’t have held back.”

Much like your own revelation, you can see your words change Pero. His brow smooths before arching in tandem with his growing smirk. Hands coming down to grasp the seat cushion, his veins bulge against the creak of upholstery. He tilts his chin to you with shrinking obedience. 

“Then I am very interested in seeing you at your worst.” 

The words drive you to clench. This is dangerous new territory, but nothing could hold you back from striding headfirst into it. Two swaying steps place you in front of Pero, his knees widening to stand between. The new angle makes him lean back, exposing the tantalizing length of his neck dotted with delicate freckles. 

“I don’t know, Pero, you may not deserve that honor.” A giggle rises in your throat, letting yourself enjoy your new-found freedom. Saying exactly what’s on your mind without the nagging fear of being too much. By Pero’s expression, he’s enjoying it too. You wind up another retort, but his next words steal your breath. 

“Are you wet right now?” he says, tongue slipping out to lick at his lower lip. The crude statement slams heat into your face, and suddenly your hand is in the air and headed for Pero’s stubbly cheek. 

“Ah!” he scolds, catching your wrist firmly before you make contact. Your brain barely has time to register you were going to smack him! when he yanks you closer, catching yourself on the back of the couch.

“I knew you were sharp in many more ways,” he gloats, and you can’t decide if you want to try wiping that smirk off his face with your palm or your mouth. “I’ll ask again - are you wet right now?”

This is the precipice of desire and level thinking, your toes on the edge. Strong voices shout that this is crazy, foolish, ill-advised. You feel too good to pay them mind.

“Why don’t you find out?”

Hunger roars in Pero’s eyes but his movements are slow, steady as he helps you straighten to standing. The fire licks at your back, but his hands finding the waist of your jeans are scorching. Eyes flick up to you as he pops the button loose, thick fingers grasping the small zip to open it tooth by tooth. The challenge is to let him take his time, and you’re up for it. By the generous tenting in his pants he’s affected too. 

“What will I find if I take these off? Pretty little panties? Something lace? Nothing at all?” he husks, toying with the plaquet as he purposefully doesn’t look. 

“I think my previous answer still stands,” you retort, and your boldness earns you a rakish smile while Pero rolls your jeans down. The darkness of night shrouds your form, but anyone stumbling in could find you like this. Something tells you Pero likes it better that way.

“Perfect,” he whispers, and his hot breath ghosting over your mound raises goosebumps. 

“At this rate it’ll be morning before…” you tease, lips forming around a smile, but that morphs into a choked exhale when Pero deftly pulls aside your panties and slides his thumb over your clit. Your hands come to his shoulders, digging in as he traces an experimental circle. 

“I knew you were dripping,” Pero purrs, and words fail as two fingers slide through your folds to press at your entrance. “I want to fuck you on my fingers, is that amenable to the lady?” 

Staccato laughter punctuates your “yes” before he presses in, those hands you’d marveled at fitting into the hot clutch of your cunt just shy of painful. Then he curls them and you can’t stop the high-pitched whine that whistles out. 

“Just needed something to scratch that itch, hm? Needed a little finger fucking to relax?” he says, and even with your body responding beautifully to his slick rhythm you can’t let that go. One hand twists into his hair, wrapping locks around your fingers before squeezing. 

Like an electric shock Pero’s body locks up, mouth falling open and his hips undulating more than you expected. You tut at him, superiority flooding your brain even as your pussy drenches his hand.

“Tattling on yourself, Pero. Let your mouth run just a little and I’ll learn all your secrets.” His fingers redouble their efforts, thumb sliding over your clit as he coaxes your orgasm to the surface, but now his head is in your hands, nails digging into his scalp as he fights against succumbing to the pricks of pain.

“Devil woman,” he hisses with no fire. “Tell me what you want - fuck, you’re so fucking wet - tell me what you want to make you cum.”

Your mind races with possibilities - your slick smeared on Pero’s beard, his hands wrapped around your headboard, what his lips would feel like - but the mounting need in your chest is to be filled. 

“I want to fuck you. Right here.”

Pero curses colorfully, fumbling at his belt. You ease his hand from your pussy, the ache of the loss a yawning chasm but he needs both to yank off his jeans and boxers. Pulling your shirt over your head and unclasping your bra, you’re nude and silhouetted by the dying fire. Pero is struggling with his shirt when he glances up at you, stunned into stillness. 

“Mierda,” he whispers. It’s said like a prayer, and at this moment you know why worship is addictive. Pero’s reverent gaze is a stronger aphrodisiac than any oyster could hope to be. He comes back to himself enough to yank the shirt over his head, revealing dark chest hair leading down to a healthy mess of curls surrounding his flushing cock. He fists it, sliding the foreskin down to reveal the deep purpling head slick with precum. Cocking your hip, you fake a loud sigh.

“Fine, I guess you have a big enough dick to act the way you do,” you observe, diffusing the weighty moment enough for Pero to scoff and smile. It’s new on his face, his scowl so everpresent, that you bask in it briefly. 

“Come sit on my lap,” he implores, reaching out to take your hand. After all the sparring, the gentleness puts you off-kilter, unused to being allowed both. 

“What are you, Santa?” you ask, straddling him and settling on his thighs as he rolls his eyes.

“Are you trying to make me lose this? Is it a little too intimidating for all your big talk?” Pero teases, stroking his definitely still very hard cock before tapping the head against your mound. 

“Don’t worry, I know how to get it back if you do,” you quip, dragging your fingernails lightly down his chest before he can retort. He reacts exactly how you’d hoped, muscles clenching and a bead of precum dribbling from his tip. “Do you like it when I make it hurt just a little bit?”

“Yes,” he groans, unashamed, unselfconscious, and your cunt throbs. “You can make it hurt more,” he says, eyes widening suddenly as you see him realize he said that out loud. Sliding closer to hover over his proud cock, you take another sweat-damp handful of hair and squeeze. His groans are growing in volume but you can’t bring yourself to care. You can blame it on the storm in the morning. 

“I’ll let you have anything you want if you’re a good boy for me.”

The whine he’s clearly embarrassed to have let out is cut off by a sudden inhale.

“Wait,” he gasps, hands digging into your hips to hold you above his cock. “I don’t have a condom.”

“I’m on birth control,” you interject, “and I haven’t slept with anyone in…like, eight months.”

Pero’s hands knead into your flesh, eyes searching your face.

“I’ll pull out.”

You don’t even think about it.

“Don’t you dare.”

If what you saw was hunger before, what’s in Pero’s expression now is ravenous. His lips curl back into a snarl, eyes deep and dark. Suddenly his fingers are inside you, scissoring you open roughly as you pant into his ear. 

“Tell me to slow down,” he growls, but you shake your head. “Tell me…when I need to.”

“I need you, Pero, please, now.”

No longer holding you still, Pero’s hands guide you down onto his cock. The moment his head breaches a whole body shiver races through.

“Are you…”

“Don’t you dare fucking stop.”

He fills you until he’s in your guts, your lungs, surrounding you with his arms and his thighs below. The splay of his hands on your back makes you dizzy, head buzzy with hormones and his musk and every place he’s touching you in a symphony of pleasure. Faintly you realize he’s saying something, lips moving against your shoulder.

“Pero?”

“Can I kiss you?”

A few drops of clarity sharpen the mush in your brain.

“You’re inside of me and we forgot to kiss.”

Pero’s chest hitches once, then again, then the both of you are moving out of sync as hiccupy laughter overtakes you. He pants when you clench around him, trying to catch his breath until you both come back to your senses. 

“I was enjoying what you were saying too much,” he admits, leaning back against the couch. His face is shadowed but you catch the glint of his eyes, the wetness of his plush lips. How had you resisted them this long?

Pero beats you to initiate, pulling you down to press a kiss to your lips. It’s soft and chaste, his hands cupping your head as you part. But you beat him to return the kiss, pressing him into the couch with a deeper kiss, barely waiting for him to react before urging his lips open. He hums greedily into your mouth, letting you explore with your tongue before he fills you with his. It’s not long before his mouth is frantic, gripping your hips as he makes an experimental thrust into your cunt that breaks your lips apart.

“Pero, fuck,” you gasp, nails digging into his back as he thrusts up deep and smooth. You meet his pace, rolling your hips to grind your clit against him. Fighting for dominance, you finally push him back and ride him in earnest, lifting up over and over again to slam his cock into your cunt. He’s mesmerized by how your tits bounce, taking one in his palm to knead to tease your nipple as your orgasm creeps up your spine. 

“Fuck, Pero, you feel so good,” you moan, slowing to grind down, the friction of his pubic hair on your clit giving you the edge to pull your climax close. 

“You feel amazing on my cock. Are you close?”

“Yes,” you pant, using every inch of Pero to find that moment of bliss. “Fuck, yes Pero, I want to cum on you. Want to feel you inside.” It’s right there, you’re at the brink of tipping over.

“Fuck, yes, oh fuck, say my name like that. Say it when you’re cumming.”

Your nerves sing and your body pulses to the beat of Pero, Pero, Pero rasping from your lips. He’s growling something you wish you could understand but the blood is pumping too loudly in your ears. The only thing you register is the couch against your back as Pero flips you. He’s pressed long against your body, hips snapping into your cunt even as you’re so tight around him. 

“...beautiful, you’re so beautiful, can’t stop…” you faintly hear as the sensations of Pero’s hands roaming your body, his humid mouth at your neck, and the wet slap of his cock bring you back to your body. His thrusts are becoming erratic, right on the cusp of his own orgasm, when you dig your nails into his back and rake them down his spine. 

Pero’s orgasmic bellow is muffled in your neck as the throb of his cock empties inside you. You offer little scratches up and down his arms and shoulders as he comes down, hips pressing in deeper as he lets out satisfied groans. Finally he slumps, head resting on your chest as he catches his breath. 

The silence is back, the dimming fire combating the dark. This was by far the best fuck you’d had in ages, and in no small part due to the freedom to just be. But when the sun rises - hell, when the post-orgasmic haze lifts - what will this even look like?

Pero sighs and lifts up on his hands, easing his cock out before softly swearing and grabbing his shirt to wipe away the cum dripping out of you. 

“I might recommend getting this couch cleaned,” he muses, sitting up on his knees to look down at your loose-limbed body with a lopsided grin. 

“I don’t think we’re the first ones to do that on this particular piece of furniture,” you joke, enjoying the wrinkle of disgust on Pero’s face. 

“Then I definitely recommend a shower. And request a bedsheet.”

The statement is unassuming in a way that you needed. Yes, this is new and strange, but you’ve always embraced both. 

“You know, there is still one bed left in this bed and breakfast.”

Pero’s head perks up.

“The only problem is that it’s mine.”

A roguish smile dimples Pero’s cheek as he hovers over you.

“And what must I do to share it with you?”

“I’m sure you’ll think of something.”

END

"I ought to say, "No, no, no sir" Mind if I move in closer? At least I'm gonna say that I tried What's the sense in hurting my pride? I really can't stay Baby, don't hold out Baby, it's cold outside."

[lotusbxtch]

Preciosa

A #happypedrohours Valentine’s special

Prompt: Pero Tovar + lingerie Pairing: Pero Tovar x f!wife!Reader Word count: 4.9k

Summary: You would have never predicted that such a delicate thing would be Pero Tovar’s undoing. Rating: Explicit - 18+ only, MDNI

Warnings/tags: heavy use of Spanish phrases and nicknames, probably not period-accurate depictions of undergarments and lingerie but I tried okay?, smut - fingering (f receiving), oral (m and f receiving), Pero is a MUNCH and eats it from the back, unprotected PIV (this is the olden days and they are married, but wrap it up, folks!), prone bone, squirting, creampie, v brief cum eating, mentions of rough sex, Pero being a grump, but also soft!Pero, aftercare, reader is described as Pero's "wife" and having breasts and female genitalia but otherwise is not described it's you boo

a/n: Apologies for the tardy publishing, but work has been craaaaaazy so I’m just getting to posting this now! Thank you @happypedrohours for putting on such a fun Valentine’s Day event, and thank you to my darling @for-a-longlongtime for beta-ing for me and helping shape the story. This is my first time writing Pero as the MMC so I hope it delivers on his character! Graphic by me (for vibes only), dividers/banners by @saradika-graphics.

MASTERLIST

When your husband, Pero, known by many as ‘The Spanish Mercenary’, returns to you after his long travels, there often is a gift for you carefully tucked into his pack - especially on missions where the stakes were relatively low. Not one for verbal extollations of devotion in public, he lets his actions speak for him, bringing you exotic treasures from far flung markets in places you’ve never even heard of. Curious spices, little handmade trinkets, dried floral specimens - they never cease to amaze you, and you knew that you were often the envy of many of the other women in your village.

This latest campaign was a grueling and dangerous one, not business like usual. Trips like these usually meant there weren’t presents in tow, but you didn’t mind; Pero’s safe return afterwards was a far better gift to you. The money he brought home was something that had a growing impact, as you put every bit of it to good use on your home and farm.

A cacophony of exclamations of your neighbors alerts you to your grumpy Spaniard’s return, and you gather your skirts up to run and welcome him home after many weeks. Pero swaggers into the village on the back of his trusty steed, his armor covered in grime, as are his clothes and hair. The exhaustion is lined clearly on his face, but pure relief peeks through his hardened expression when he spots you coming towards him.

“Amor,” he calls out, dismounting his horse as you reach him. You press your body into his, claiming his lips in a sweet kiss, before he gently pushes you away.

“I will not sully you with the filth of my travels,” Pero gruffs, as if this wasn’t what happened every time he returns home. You roll your eyes at his theatrics but relent, falling into step beside him. 

“Nonsense, mi esposo. I’ll always have you alive and well, filth and all,” you tut at him, giving the horse a kiss on the muzzle. She blows out air, relaxing into the familiar surroundings. When the three of you arrive at your home, Pero busies himself with grooming his mount and unpacking his bags, while you heat up water for his bath and to clean his armor. He enters your shared abode a short while later, eyeing the steaming wash water and homemade soap you’d set out for him with relief.

“Tell me about your travels, my love,” you ask as he shucks off his heavy armor with a clunk. Pero grunts in response, peeling the dirty clothing from his strong body and revealing tan skin. Once bare, he takes the wash cloth from you, soaking it with water and using it to wipe the majority of the filth off of his strong frame. 

“Long, far too long,” he replies finally, a man of few words. It’s a quality you love about him; Pero is never a man of flowery prose nor insincerity. He says only what he means, and as little as is necessary to convey it. Even still, with you, he is chattier than with anyone else. He dips the cloth into the tub again, wringing out the dirty water into a smaller bucket. “Missed you, hermosa.”

“Mmm, I missed you too,” you muse, pressing a kiss to his shoulder and handing him the soap. He begins to lather the cleansing suds, washing himself in a perfunctory, efficient manner. 

“How were things while I was away?” he asks, hands still soaping limbs. You fill him in on the village gossip (which he swears he doesn’t care about, but is absolutely enthralled whenever you reveal some new secret) while he cleans himself. He much prefers to listen to you chatter away, the soft lilt of your voice a balm to his soul after many days apart. Sometimes, you stumble on your words, getting distracted by the nakedness of his body, the lean muscle and broad expanse of his shoulders. When he starts sudsing his soft cock, you lose your words completely. 

Pero smirks, knowing full well what the sudden silence means. “See something you like, mi amor?” he teases, stepping into a shallow basin before using the rest of the warm water to rinse the soap from his body. You simultaneously giggle and rub your thighs together, arousal beginning to simmer in your body. 

“Yes,” you purr mischievously, noticing his rapidly-hardening length. “Let me show you how much I missed you.”

After sating yourselves with each other’s bodies, you and Pero lay intertwined in your shared bed. “I’m glad you’re back,” you murmur, hand tracing the paths of scars along his battle-battered skin. 

Pero presses a kiss to your forehead. “I am as well. Oh, that reminds me.” He climbs out of bed, padding towards his belongings unpacked from the saddlebags. Pulling out a carefully-wrapped parcel, he walks back to you, sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Open it,” he commands softly, placing the package in your hands.

“Pero,” you tut, “you didn’t need to get me anything. It’s enough that you returned in one piece.” Pero grunts but the corner of his mouth tips up, happy to indulge his wife. You gently unfold the outer packaging. When it unfurls, you gasp, turning your face to your smirking husband wordlessly.

“You always ask me about what unique things I have seen in the East,” Pero explains. “Many of them I cannot divulge, or are unable to make it back with me. But this was a gift from the wife of one of the men who hired William and I during this last job.” His eyes meet yours, softening. “I spoke of my love for you during a meal one night, and she wanted you to have something from her as a token of her gratitude. She knows what it is like to have a spouse afar.” You’re surprised he had spoken of you; most people could never get a single word out of him on a good day.

You look down at the bundle of sumptuous fabric, light as air and softer than a newborn kitten. It shimmers slightly in the light of your fireplace, a pale golden hue with the warmth of sunshine. As it runs over your hands, you notice a slight chill run across your skin. It’s unlike anything you’d ever seen before.

“It is the finest Chinese silk,” Pero continues, “made from the cocoons of special grubs. The fabric created from the strands has a cooling effect. She thought that an extraordinary woman deserves a rare gift.”

“Thank you,” you breathe, kissing his hand. Suddenly, a thought occurs. You cock your head to the side curiously. “How does she know that I am an extraordinary woman?” you ask.

Pero begins to turn beet red, and you start to giggle. “I… may have indulged a bit too much in their rice wine,” he admits, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. You bark a laugh.

“Mi amor,” you chuckle, “if the worst thing that happens when you’re drunk is that you profess your love for your wife, I’ve clearly married the right man.” You pepper his face with kisses as he grouses, but you feel his hand caress your arm lovingly. 

“I’ll make something beautiful from it,” you tell him, folding it back up into the packaging carefully and storing it with your sewing items.

“May I see it when you finish?” Pero asks, curling his body around yours once more and pulling you flush with him.

You nod. “Of course,” you promise, an idea already beginning to form.

Pero leaves the following week for another job, and you begin working on your surprise for him. As you observe the qualities of the fine silk, you realize it should be turned into a special occasion garment, something worn when you want to feel luxurious. Pero told you before about the beautiful flowing dresses and robes that Eastern ladies wore, which were markedly different from the heavier gowns typical in your homeland. As your dear husband wasn’t the most descriptive with words, you had to take a guess at how they looked and were constructed. Luckily, a traveling merchant struck up a conversation with you and, as it turned out, he had visited the East as well and helped to fill in the design details you were missing. 

Every spare minute outside of tending to the farm, selling your produce and flowers at the market, and tidying your home is used to painstakingly cut, sew, and embroider your silken treasure. It is a silver lining, then, that it takes Pero three weeks to return home to you. 

As usual, you greet him upon his entry to the village, walking home beside Pero and his mare while he recounts his latest completed job. This time, however, when he arrives inside to bathe, you move to slip away to the bedroom. Pero grabs your arm gently.

“Am I truly so ripe that you must leave while I wash?” he jokes, a smirk painting his lips but confusion lingering in his eyes. 

You smile demurely, looking up through your lashes. “I have completed my silk project and thought you’d like to see it,” you explain. “Come to the bedroom when you’re clean.” Pero’s smirk widens more, and he visibly relaxes at the reassurance.

“Ah, well, by all means, do not let me stop you,” he responds, watching you as you retreat and shoot him another smile over your shoulder. Huffing a small chuckle, he hastily scrubs his body clean.

Entering the bedroom, you pull the finished pieces from the chest in the corner of the room. Pero likes seeing you in anything or nothing, so you’re not worried about his approval. But there is a part of you that hopes seeing you in your new outfit unleashes the feral lust that sometimes simmers just under the surface of his contained demeanor. Your hands slide along the silk, caressing your own body, slick beginning to gather between your thighs with the thought of him taking you roughly. 

Just as you finish adjusting everything to your liking, Pero walks into the room, wearing his simple sleeping pants, forgoing a shirt. His reaction catches you completely off guard.

Your husband - the broad, intimidating warrior, feared by many men across the continents - stands frozen in place as he scans your adorned body with wide eyes. He takes in the long, elegant robe, its open style fluttering slightly with your movements. 

The gown, made from the same pale golden silk, flows beautifully over your frame, reaching the floor and ruffling gently at your feet. It tapers towards your bust in an empire waist, where you’ve meticulously stitched crimson tiger lily motifs across the chest - Pero’s favorite flower. Delicate straps hold it up on your shoulders, and both the dress and robe are gossamer thin, the sumptuous fabric leaving little to the imagination. The silk creates an ethereal glow across your curves from the reflection of the fireplace, as if you are encased in a sacred golden light.

Pero doesn’t move. His chest heaves, and his hands repeatedly twitch and clench at his sides. You’ve never seen him so tense in your life. 

“Pero?” you try, an edge of laughter lightening your concerned tone. “Is everything alright?” Your eyes flick downwards, picking at the hem of a billowing sleeve in confusion. You know it may not have been what he expected, but it’s a far cry from how you thought he’d react. 

You feel Pero’s fingertips gently grip your chin. “Look at me, querida,” he rasps, voice tight. You bring your eyes to his and are instantly hit with the intensity of his gaze upon yours. 

“You… I….” Desperation laces his face as he tries to explain his reaction. The sudden realization hits you.

You would have never predicted that such a delicate thing would be Pero Tovar’s undoing.

Pero inhales a shaky breath. “Mi vida…” he whispers. “My beautiful wife… you look so soft, so delicate.” He holds a hand out as if to touch you, but retreats. “These hands…” Pero swallows hard. “They are too rough for something so pure.” His eyes cast downwards, and you know he’s not only talking about his callouses. 

You slip both hands to the sides of his face, lifting his gaze back to you. You allow all of your desire, your love, your lust to suffuse into your face. With your heart aching with the weight of your devotion for this man - so gruff and harsh on the outside, but utter bone-melting softness inside - you search his eyes pleadingly.

“Touch me, Pero,” you beg, bringing his hands to your waist. “I need your hands, roughness and all.”

Pero’s body shudders as his palms make contact with the soft silk on your body. He gently smooths his thumbs across your hip bones, eliciting a whimper from your throat. They travel back up the curve of your waist, brushing the swell of your breasts, and your nipples pebble at his touch. Eyes focused on following the path of his fingers, he traces circles around the peaks, more soft, desperate sounds coming from your mouth. 

You stare into his eyes with unwavering love. “I missed you, mi amor,” you whisper. 

Pero slowly leans forward to press his forehead against yours. “I am here, mi esposa,” he murmurs back, his hands pressing more surely, feeling the slip of your gown beneath his fingers. You can feel the fabric catching slightly on the rougher parts of his hands. 

Leaning forward, you capture his lips in a slow, sensual kiss. You missed the way he tastes, the quiet grunts he makes as he claims your mouth with his. Biting his lip, you pull back and say breathlessly, “Show me how much you missed me.”

Pero presses his mouth to yours hungrily, his fear of sullying something so divine beginning to wane. As he walks you backwards towards your bed, he gathers the fabric of your robe and dress to your hips. Gently, he lays you down onto the bed, the gilded silk fanning out around you. Pero pushes the fabric further up, exposing your dripping core to the air. A rough groan rips from his throat. 

“Mmm, mi vida, you are so wet for me,” he grits, fingers tracing over your labia, making you whine in desire.

“Pero,” you moan. You spread your thighs open, inviting him in. Pero cages your body in with his, kissing you fiercely while slipping two of his fingers into you, your slick aiding him to slide in all the way to the last knuckle. You keen his name in pleasure, and he feels you clench down on him, hot and sticky. His kisses trail from the corner of your lips to your jaw, then down your neck, pumping in and out of you to build your pleasure. 

“You make me want to be anything but delicate with you,” Pero grunts, swirling his fingertips against the soft spongy spot inside you that makes you see stars. 

You curse and moan at his admission, your earlier desire for him to take you roughly coming back to the surface. “Do not be gentle,” you beg him. A wild look crosses his face, and he nips at your throat while his fingers thrust more rapidly inside you. Mewling, you spread even wider for him, driving his digits further inside the hot clutch of you.

“I want to feel you break for me, amorcita,” Pero growls, then thumbs your clit in tight circles.

Your orgasm surges up and crests, and Pero slaps his hand over your mouth just in time to quiet the shriek erupting from your throat. He pins you down and groans into your hair roughly. A rush of slick coats his already-drenched fingers inside of you while he guides you through the waves of your rapture. When your breathing begins to calm and your voice peters into tiny whimpers, Pero removes his hand from your mouth. You watch, entranced, as he sucks your essence from his other fingers. 

He curses. “I have traveled countless foreign lands, and still have tasted nothing sweeter than you,” Pero groans, then sweeps you into a deep kiss, feeding you your own flavor. His hard cock presses into your side, throbbing and insistent.

You reach down to caress his length. Pero shivers and bites your lip in return. “Let me return the favor,” you whisper, sliding your body down the bed. He pulls down his sleep pants, the thick swell of him springing to attention. You love Pero’s cock and never miss a chance to worship it.

His warrior hands gently grip your skull as you lave your tongue across the expanse of him, tasting the salty musk of his most intimate parts. It clouds your head with potent desire. 

“Fuck, amorcita,” Pero gasps, your wide, glassy eyes locked on his. “You have the face of an angel and the mouth of a fucking devil.” His words make you moan on his length and slide his shaft even further down your throat. His hands tense, his control slipping further away, and he gently pulls you off of him with a pop.

“I cannot have this end so soon. I need to be buried in you,” he grits. He gets off of the bed, coming to stand at the side. Excited shivers run down your spine, knowing exactly what he wants from you. He knows it’s your favorite way to take him.

You turn your body to face him, draping your garments off the mattress, and lay on your back, exposing the apex of your thighs to your husband once again. 

Pero’s gaze fixes on your slick pussy. “You are the most stunning goddess,” he croons while he takes himself in hand and rubs the swollen head through the evidence of your arousal. The heat in your cheeks flares hotter at his words. 

“Please, Pero,” you whine. “I crave you. My soul needs you.” Sweat dews up across your skin from your desperation.

In one slow, long, devastating thrust, Pero slides home.

You both cry out at the pure pleasure of flesh meeting flesh, of your bodies joining once more. It feels overwhelming, inevitable, not of this world. For you, no man could ever sew themselves as deeply into the fabric of your spirit than Pero. As your body adjusts and welcomes him in once more, you gaze deeply at each other, breaths syncing, an electric current running through your veins. He fills every iota of empty space within you. You feel everything.

When he bottoms out a few seconds later, the silken fabric of your robe brushes his shins, the unfamiliar feeling causing a shudder of pleasure to skitter across his body. Pero grips the backs of your thighs as if to tether him to this realm, awash in intense desire for you. A breathy moan snakes out of your throat when he pulls back and thrusts in once again. Every nerve alights in euphoria at his intrusion. His eyes roam across your body, drinking in the sight: every curve of your supple body writhing in pleasure; every freckle and mole; the way the thin sheen of sweat on your skin shimmers in the light of the fire; the way your brows pinch together and lips falls open as he hits that devastating spot inside of you; the shine of your slick and cream coating his rigid length as he works you relentlessly.

It’s both everything he could ever need and not nearly enough to sate him.

Pero reaches down between your thighs and thumbs your clit. You keen, back arching off the bed. “I can feel you tightening for me,” he rasps as his hips punch an unforgiving rhythm into you. “Shatter for me. Come on my cock, preciosa.”

At that favorite pet name - preciosa - your body obeys his command with a snap. A shockwave of climactic euphoria races through your veins. His name leaves your lips as a sob over and over again, your orgasm wringing you dry while Pero clenches his jaw and guides you through your peak. Blinking your eyes open, you’re met with Pero already staring deeply into them. Devotion and amazement gleam in his gaze.

“Tan bonita,” he praises. “You always look stunning when you come for me.” His thrusts have slowed down, gently maintaining a strong buzz of arousal between the two of you.

“Hold me close, mi esposo,” you demand, and Pero knows exactly what you want. “Mold your body to mine.”

Pero gently shushes you. “Si, amor; I shall give you what you want,” he responds and pulls out gently. Evidence of your orgasm soaks his shaft, dripping onto your thighs. 

As Pero gets into position, you roll yourself onto your belly, shifting your silk lingerie around to avoid tangles. You sweep the robe and dress off of your lower half and part your thighs. He crawls over you, caging your body once more while he nudges your legs open further. Back arched, your cunt glints invitingly; it is a potent sight and the only thing to ever break Pero to beg on his knees for it. 

He would worship at your altar for hours if you let him. Drowning between your thighs, eating his favorite meal in the world, sounds incredible to your husband. His insatiability for your carnal pleasures knows no bounds. You’ve never met a man who loved eating you out nearly as much as he does. If he could bathe in your essence, he would.

Pero is ruled by only two things: coin, and your pussy.

Before your mind drifts back from reflection on its own, it is yanked back to the current moment by a hot stripe licked up the seam of you. Gasping, you reach back, tangling your fingers in Pero’s hair as he spreads your folds open for him to devour. He pulls your hips up in the air to better reach your swollen pearl. His insistent tongue swirls around the nub, building you up to get another orgasm.

“Come again for me and I will give you my cock for as long as you can take it,” he barters, rocketing you rapidly towards another crest. The intense pressure tells you it will be messy. That only encourages your husband.

“There you are,” he says as your body pulls tight. Your limbs quake, everything hanging in precarious balance.

“Pero,” you wail, the intense pleasure at a knife’s edge. He says nothing, but takes that as his sign to suck your clit in between his lips and make you break.

And you do, stunningly hard. Pero seals his lips around your pussy as you scream with your wet release, his throat bobbing with every swallow of your hallowed cum. A long, low moan rumbles in his broad chest from your sweet, deep flavor coating his tongue. Resting your head on the bed sheets, you pant softly, trying to recover. 

Soon after, you feel the bed shift as Pero hovers over your prone body. His mushroom tip swipes through your folds once more, and he kisses your bare shoulders while he notches at your entrance.

“Tell me how much you want me, preciosa,” he rumbles. “I need to hear it from your lips.”

“With everything in me, Pero,” you whimper, pressing up against his hardness. You feel him throb against your folds. “Please, please make love to me again.”

Pero obeys, sliding himself to the hilt swiftly. Your broken cry echoes around the bedroom. His forearms bracket either side of your body, his entire front pressed against your back as he thrusts deeply and slowly into you. The masculine, musky, undeniably Pero scent wraps around you. You’ve never felt more protected and safe with your strong, brave husband completely surrounding you.

Delirious whimpers and gasps swirl in the air, intermixed with the wet shlick of Pero’s length filling you up again and again. Accenting the symphony of explicit sounds is the constant caress of your silk lingerie on your skin; a cooling touch to bring your heated body back to Earth. It’s a heady concoction, a sensorial delight unlike anything you’ve experienced. You’re rendered almost speechless, only expressions of pleasure and your husband’s name escaping your lips. 

“I will never get enough of you,” Pero moans, slipping his hand under your hips to let you grind on his fingers. 

You keen sharply. “Oh god, so good,” you mewl, rolling your hips against his big paw. Slick rolls down from your dripping pussy and soaks his hand and the bed, slippery and hot. Pero runs his tongue up the length of your neck, sucking love bites into your flesh as his thrusts come harder and faster. 

“You are everything to me,” he hoarsely whispers, his voice breaking slightly at the end. “Gods above, I do not need anything but you. You beautiful, precious angel. Light of my life.” You sob in pure love and pleasure at his words as your orgasm rises higher in every cell in your body.

“Pero,” you cry out. “Fuck, I’m going to come.” Tremors begin to wrack your body as your cunt tightens around Pero’s cock like a vice, so close to your rapture. 

He chokes out a loud moan, now pounding into you with abandon. “Come for me, mi vida,” he begs, breaths exhaled harshly. Sweat drips from his broad frame onto your back and the lingerie, his muscled thighs tense with exertion. “Give it to me. Let go for me, and let me fill you with my seed.”

Pero hitches his hips just slightly, and the new angle hits that magical spot deep in you, flinging you right into your orgasm. A throttled, grunting squeal erupts from your throat, and you clamp down on his thick cock, your juices squirting onto his hand. Pero bellows, then shoves himself as deeply as he can, shooting his searing cum into you. He bites down on your shoulder, whimpering loudly with every spurt of his seed released.

It feels like the world explodes and caves in on itself, with nothing left but shivering desire and love in its place.

Tears stream down your heated cheeks, falling wetly onto the linens. You’re gasping for air, your husband collapsed on top of your back, your bodies melded as one while you catch your breath. Sniffling, then laughing wetly, you turn to kiss the forearm that you can reach.

“God, I love you so much, mi amor,” you profess with a watery hiccup, completely overwhelmed. Pero grunts and presses his lips against your shoulder, his chest pressed to your back.

“I love you more than you will ever understand,” he rumbles, trailing kisses across your salty, dewy skin, then tips your chin gently to the side as far as it will go so he can sweetly capture his lips with yours. Pero carefully lifts himself up, and then slides his softening cock gently from the hold of your cunt, a stream of his cum spilling out in its wake. You murmur happily when you feel the warm liquid roll down your clit, twitching and spent. He kisses each of your buttocks, slurping the escaped cum, and then rises to his feet to pad to your wash basin. Dampening a cloth, he returns to the bed and gently cleans your skin, eliciting a giggle from you.

Pero huffs a laugh. “What are you giggling about, little loon?” he teases, gently smacking your ass.

You muffle another giggle, then turn to him, smiling. “If only your enemies could see big, bad Pero Tovar, the feared warrior, cleaning up his wife’s pussy so gently.”

You didn’t even need to see Pero’s face; you could practically feel the eyeroll. He slaps your ass harder this time, ripping a gasp from you.

“Careful, preciosa,” Pero warns, but the threat is hollow. A smirk threatens to break out across his face. “Or next time I’ll be rougher.” 

He lays one more hard slap to your backside, and you moan quietly, another dribble of his cum pushed out from your cunt. He growls at the sight, then gently kisses the red handprint beginning to show on your soft skin - a veritable masterclass in contrasts.

Finishing his cleaning, he throws the cloth to the side, then rejoins you in bed, rolling you both to your side so you can face each other. Your eyes roam his face, smiling serenely at him.

Suddenly your face lights up. “Oh, I almost forgot! I made you something too!” You leap off of the bed, quickly pressing your fingers to your core to stem the flow of him from inside you. Rummaging through your chest, you exclaim, “Ah-HAH! Found it!” You toss it onto the bed.

A pile of that same silk fabric lands by Pero’s hands. He picks it up gingerly, unfolding it as his brows knit together quizzically.

“Is this…?” he starts, confused, while the shape of the item is slowly revealed to him.

“I made you something too,” you titter, as it dawns on him that what you’ve made is a small pair of flowy shorts, just big enough to contain his manhood and pert ass. 

He raises his scarred eyebrow at you. “This is… for me?” he asks incredulously. You erupt into giggles, slapping your hand over your mouth. Pero’s signature scowl etches over his face.

“Yes,” you laugh. “I thought it would be nice for both of us to have something made from the silk. Do you like it?” More giggles erupt from you as you imagine your gruff, tough husband sporting the tiny, sheer shorts. Pero’s frown continues to deepen.

“Oh, you are in so much trouble,” he grouses, a playful lilt to his tone, and he lunges for you, pulling you down to tickle and kiss you.

LOTUSBXTCH MASTERLIST

Notification tags: @mountainsandmayhem @alltheirdamn @perotovar @sin-djarin @syd-djarin @mermaidgirl30 @yxtkiwiyxt @almostfoxglove @almostempty @whocaresstillthelouvre @baronessvonglitter @qveerthe0ry @sp00kymulderr @guiltyasdave @pedropeach @murder-wife @burntheedges @goodwithcheese @penvisions @evolnoomym @joelmillerisapunk @joelstummy @arcanefox207 @qunariagenda @milla-frenchy @avastrasposts @luxurychristmaspudding @reggiesfilthylittlesecret @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @campingwiththecharmings @jeewrites @kungfucapslock @itwasntimethatdidit40 @swankyorange @chippedowlmug @reallyrallyauthor

[psychedelic-ink]

𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐔𝐄𝐓.

DAY FIVE OF HAUNTED HOEDOWN

prompt: animal shapeshifter au + "you're not actually scared are you? of me?"

pairing: animal shapeshifter!pero tovar x f!reader

genre: explicit smut, minors dni, romance, cottagecore, fantasy au

summary: you decide to take a swim in a lake that is deep in the middle of the forest. during your swim, pero finds you, and he's not happy that you went out alone during a full moon.

word count: 3.1k

warnings: breeding, marking, biting, does this count as monsterfucking if he's just human with wings and two cocks, pero has two cocks, despite the warnings this is actually quite soft, double penetration, praise kink, soft!dom pero, possessive!pero, creampie

a/n: during this i learned that some bird species have two cocks. you're welcome for this information and thank you for voting in the poll dfvdfvf (also i didn't edit this so sorry about that ily all)

The moonlight beckons you. It always has and always will. You watch as the water effortlessly brings the white light pouring from above with gentle waves kissed by the calm breeze. That same breeze rustles the leaves of dark trees. You’re not afraid of the darkness anymore. Haven’t been since you moved out from your family home, away from those who want to stifle you and silence you. 

Your steps are soft as you near the lake, the ends of your dress brushing the grass. You feel a predatory gaze taking in the sight of you, he’s in the shadows, enjoying the show. 

Your grumpy companion, if you will. 

Slowly, you drag the back of your hands up your waist and trace the pads of your fingers over the sweetheart neckline of your bodice. You lower them, feeling the rich ribbons holding the entire dress together. 

With one swift movement, you pull one thread and the rest comes down, pooling at your feet. 

You enter the lake, it’s cold but not cold enough that you’d want to jump out. You exhale a shaky breath and swim deeper, turning in the water, you observe the full moon. 

A rustling fills the silence. And feather-like steps are heard. Your feet sway underwater as you float upright. What captures your gaze first are a set of deep brown eyes that are too human to belong to a beast. 

Then you notice the fur, the pointed nose, and the snarl that shows white pointy teeth. The beast steps closer, paws large enough to cover your entire face. You swim close to the edge of the lake, your feet move against the thickness of water, you want to place your arms over the ground to brace yourself but decide against it. He’s angry, you can feel it, you just don’t know why yet. 

He stops at the edge you refuse to brace yourself against and leans down, his wide nuzzle an inch away. He inhales and exhales deeply, the force of his breath nearly drying your skin. He still bares his teeth towards you and you notice the faint traces of blood over his dark fur. 

“You shouldn’t be here,” he growls, the deep voice echoing in your head. “It’s the full moon it’s dangerous.” 

“There are no people here.” 

His tongue darts out to move over his teeth, eyes watching you carefully, “It is not the people I fear, little soul.” 

With a sudden need to be close to him, you bury your fingers into the thick neck of the beast and urge him to come closer until your forehead is pressed firmly against his. He doesn’t close his eyes but you do. He’s incredibly warm; a faint scent of lavender and blood clings to his skin. 

“Join me,” you murmur. He watches you curiously for a moment before nodding and taking a step back. You revel in watching his transformations. His eyes finally flutter closed, a dark purple mist surrounding him, he lets out an audible breath. 

You first see the wings; dark and lush, they spread to his sides before folding back. 

Then you see the rest of him. Sunkissed skin, broad chest, and a stomach that has gotten rounder ever since he met you—a sign of a life with balance. Even though you have them memorized, your eyes dart over every faint scar that is scattered all around his torso. You love them. Tracing your tongue over every since one, the lightened patches of skin reminding you of stars. 

Pero steps forward, naked as the day he was born, soft cock hanging between strong thighs, he approaches the lake. And you. 

“I am still mad,” he grumbles, his accent thicker now that he’s using his actual voice. “You did not tell me you were going to come here.” 

“I knew you would find me.”

He doesn’t say anything and slowly submerges into the water, his wings follow him in the water like a mermaid's tail. You frown when he turns his back, his back tense and shoulders raised, you come closer and begin to cup water and release it over his wings. A shudder crawls up his spine, the delicate limbs playfully twitching despite his anger. 

“Just because I did not kill you the first time—” 

“Or the second.” 

He grunts, “Or the second—” 

“Or the third.” 

“¡Suficiente!” his wings raise higher and he turns viciously, the same anger you saw in him as a wolf returning full force. “This is not a game. There are creatures out there that won’t hesitate to rip you shred to shred.” 

Pero forces you to swim until your back hits the shore, the lake’s depth surpasses you both, yet he manages to towards over you. 

“Pero. . .” 

“You do not know what is out there but I do,” he snarls. “I am one of them.” 

He places a hand over your chest, blunt nails biting into the skin right above your heart. The curve of his nose brushes against yours. Underwater, you feel the heft of his cock pressed against your stomach, it takes you everything not to moan and rub yourself against him like a dog in heat. 

“What you don’t understand,” he hisses, voice dangerously low. “This heart belongs to me now—Not yours, fucking mine.” 

He pins your hips together, knocking the air from your lungs, your jaw drops and all you can do is stare. Instinctively, you legs press together, the lack of motion threatening to pull you under the moonlit lake. Pero doesn’t allow it, however, both his hands drop to your waist, keeping your head barely above the surface. 

You feel the brush of his lips on your cheek. 

“That muscle that pumps blood in your veins and keeps you alive. . .  it is not strong enough to take the attack of claws and teeth, or something worse. You owe it to me to keep it alive. You owe it to me to let me know of late-night dips, after making me fall for such a susceptible creature.”  

You close your eyes, your heart racing in your chest. You have no idea how he’s been around, centuries perhaps, he’d never told you. But you know it was a lonely life, to be gifted with the remarkable talent of turning into every animal imaginable only to cease to be human, for that talent, which was thought to be a gift, seep into the essence of your humanity. 

His gaze wanders over your countenance. You feel the heaviness of it. Finally, you open your eyes and bring your thumb over to the scar that goes over his eye and stroke it gently. The ridges of puffy skin catch against the pad of your thumb and you swallow.  

"You are not actually scared, are you? Of me?" he murmurs.

You smile, “Never,” you brush your lips together. “And you’re right. I’m yours. Sorry for wandering off. I honestly was just looking for you, I missed you and knew you’d trace my scent.” 

You scratch his jaw, the short hairs tickling your skin. He observes you a second longer before cracking a smile and nuzzling your neck, you feel teeth on your skin as he rocks his hips forward. “I’ve missed you too, my sweet soul.” 

Before you know it he’s hauling you both out of the lake, laying you over the velvet grass. The soft blades tickle your skin. Pero lies next to you, propping himself up on his elbow, he allows his eyes to devour you whole. His wings stretch over you both like the night sky, long and wide, you swallow as you ache to touch them—to feel their softness on your fingertips. 

“You like my wings,” he states, an observation. You nod and a wing descends, the tip of the feathers moving down the valley of your breasts and over to your stomach. You hold your breath as it inches closer to your clit, and you spread your legs without a second thought. “So obedient,” he murmurs. “Or is this your way of apologizing to me, hermosa?” 

The brush of feathers between your legs halts the words that were about to spill. Your body arches, a loud gasp tearing from your throat. The subtle touch makes your body sing for him, begging him to touch you with force. Enjoying your pain driven from pleasure, he continues to play with you with the end of his wing, and you enjoy the sight of slick smearing against the feathers. 

“Perhaps it’s both,” you murmur, sliding your hand down his torso and cupping his cock. You wrap your fingers and where he would groan eagerly, he turns rigid. Thinking that he’s still angry, you swipe a thumb over the head and move down. 

Something else hits your hand. Something hard like the one in your palm.

“P-Pero. . .” you look up to him. He grunts in acknowledgment, waiting for your question. You move your hand again to make sure what you’re feeling is correct, your fingers slip between two heavy cocks, one of them decked in soft, tiny feathers. You let out a strangled sound. “Do—Do you have two cocks right now?” 

He clears his throat. Normally you’d find the flush of his cheeks and his loss for words cute but you’re in shock. You’ve been with him many times before and never did he have two cocks. 

And there was no way you missed one. 

“It only happens once a month,” you squeeze the feathered one and he groans, hips thrusting to feel the softness of your palm. “It is. . . a side effect.” 

“Side effect of what?” 

“Of whatever the hell I am,” he answers bitterly. “It is for breeding. The. . . feathers they’re not actually feathers, they heighten the pleasure of a female and make them more. . . fertile.” 

A beat of silence. 

While you’re at a loss for words, you continue to stroke him, and indeed he was right. The soft things you deemed as feathers left a flowery-scented substance on your palm. Your lids flutter at the scent, your heart feeling light and full of want. 

The mere thought of Pero filling you is enough to have your cunt drooling for him. And he must’ve sensed it because his eyes darken and his wings hide you from the watchful gaze of the moon. 

He thrusts a little harder than, the bulbous head of his second cock hitting your wrist, “You like it?” he nips at your chin and cups your mound, slipping two fingers inside with ease. “I would want nothing more to fill this pretty little cunt up with all of me, but are you sure?” 

Pero skims his teeth down your neck, “I never had someone during the full moon.” 

“Then I’m happy your first,” you grind into the heel of his palm, moaning, when he presses hard against the bundle of nerves. “I want you, Pero. All of you. I want to feel you for days.” 

“Oh, preciosa, you’ll be feeling me for centuries.” 

There’s something exceptionally filthy being on all fours in the middle of the forest with Pero fucking his tongue into your sopping entrance. 

He’d been going at it for at least half an hour, you lost track of time during your forth orgasm, the ground beneath soaking your essence. His mouth, his fingers, he spared no expense in working you open. His mustache chafed your skin as he stuffed you full with three fingers, scissoring them while being knuckle deep. 

“Pero—I—I need—” you break down, tears streaming down your face. It’s too much. You don’t know how much you can take it. “Please.” 

“You think you are ready to take me?” he kisses the lips of your cunt long and slow, the tip of his tongue tracing your folds. “Poor thing. Did I tire you out already?” 

“I—I just want your cock. . .s,” you say, yet you still follow his mouth with your hips when he moves away. He suddenly flips you to your back, the force of it knocking the air from your lungs. 

“Say it again,” he growls. “Say it.” 

“I want your cocks,” you sinks his teeth into your neck, his regular cock brushing your folds. “I want all of you, Pero. Breed me.” 

“Fuck,” he rasps, his tone frustrated. “Fuck—Of course, bebita, I’ll breed you so fucking good. Then I’ll fuck you again and again, until you are round with me,” something dark flashes in his eyes when you whimper. “You are making it really hard to go slow.” 

You cry out again, purposefully grinding against his cocks, his eyes roll back and he momentraily loses himself, thrusting forward—

You both moan in unison; you, from being stretched around the girth of him, and him from how easily he slides inside of you, the tight fist of your cunt wrapping deliciously around his lenght. 

Pero begins to fuck you with shallow thrust and your eyes roll back. You can’t imagine how good it’s going to feel when you have both of them inside. You’re a whimpering mess beneath him, his very being towering over yours. You clench around him as his thrusts become deeper, a gush of wetness soaking him. He presses his sweaty forehead against yours, his chest heaving, he holds your gaze. 

“I’m going to slide in the other one now,” he kisses your lips and pulls away. Your eyes drift to his wings that stretch again. He pulls back his hips and when he pushes back again there’s an added pressure. A mixture of moans and pained hisses bounce behind clenched teeth, your finger curling into the dirt. Pero waits for you to adjust to both of him, his voice dripping with adoration. “You’re taking me so well. So good for me, my sweet little human, always wet and ready.”   

When your body relaxes around him, he presses forward. The feel of his other cock is different, that feather like texture tickles your walls, the prickles quickly melting into drops of pleasure inside you. A burst of arousal awakens in the pit of your stomach, your eyes go wide, your legs spreading further until the tendons begin to ache. 

“Please, please, please,” you cry out, hands grasping his forearms. “Fuck me, fuck me—shit—what is this?” 

Pero pins your hips to the ground, “Calm down, you are going to hurt yourself,” a heavy scent of lavender fills your nostrils, more liquid dripping from your core. “Like I said, it adds to the pleasure but I am only half way in, mi amor. You need to be patient so I can fuck you properly.” 

Your chest heaves, lungs collapsing, you taste salt on your tongue, “Okay. . .” you whisper. “Okay.” 

“Such a good girl,” he coos, but despite that, he doesn’t release your hips. “Taking two cocks at once so beautifull. I wish you could see yourself,” his thumb traces where you two connect, then he begins drawing languid circles around your clit and your entire body loosens momentarily. He bruises himself deeper with small thrust. “So close, just a little bit more and you’ll have them both inside of you.” 

Pero’s large hand caresses the swell of your stomach, you smile at him with a dazed smile, “Just a little bit more.” 

You know he’s fully sheathed from the sounds he make, something between a growl and a moan. The stretch you feel is immaculate. You feel so full. Both cocks twitch  uncontrollably inside, the sensation shortening your breath. Sweat beads at his foreahead, fingers biting into your flesh as he tries to stop himself from ruining you completely. 

When you cradle his cheeks, his eyes snap at you and he bares his teeth. It might’ve been tricks of the night, but you sweat his pupils become dark diamond before returning to normal. His wings flutter around you both protectively. 

“There’s no one here,” you say calmly. “I’m all yours.” 

Realization strucks him, his eyes widen, lips parting with a soft exhale. His expression makes you want to laugh. This isn’t the first time you’re telling him this, yet everytime you do he looks at you with the same awe-struck expression. 

Then all hell breaks loose. 

His teeth sink into your neck, his hips relentless as he hammers into you. Wet noises fill the forest. You’re left screaming his name, the burst of pleasure you receive with every stroke mind numbing. You feel so stuffed. Both cocks going in an out of you with embarrising ease, your body is on fire and something devastating begins to build up rapidly inside. 

“P-Pero,” you stutter, slack-jawed. “I’m—I’m going to—” 

“You feel it don’t you,” he sucks a nipple between his lips, tongue lapping the hardened peak. “The way pleasure feels endless and something that you can drown in forever. I have been feeling like that during every full moon. Finally I have someone to fall from the heavens with me—” 

He hooks his arms underneath your thighs and pushes them up until your knees graze your forehead. Your spine screams in agony, yet the thickness of having both cocks inside is enough to numb you to it. He goes deeper with every snap, your eyes roll back, ever muscles goes taut right before he pushes you over the edge, your cunt gushing around him as you scream his name, over and over. 

“That’s it, my sweet girl. Come for me,” he buries his head into your neck, fully exposing your body to his weight while he viciously pounds into you. “Fuck, can you feel me?” 

You definitely can—but you can’t form the words. His cocks expand, throbbing and twitching as they both strike that one spot that makes you see stars brighter then the ones above. 

Pero keeps his promise and spills into you, both cocks filling you until your body can’t take anymore and he drips around the edges. Your eyes flutter closed. Your mouth gasping for air, there’s so much, his cock pulsing. He gradually releases your legs, and they drop to the ground, framing his waist. Pero’s face remains buried in your neck, inhaling your scent. 

“Do I smell good?” you joke. 

He hums, “You smell amazing,” he answers. “You smell like me.” 

You want to quip back and say it must not be that good then, but you swallow your teasing for now, admitting to yourseld that you wouldn’t want to smell like anything else. 

“I never want to leave you,” he mutters. “Feels too good.” 

“Then don’t,” you say, clenching around him. You whimper as you feel both cocks still hard inside of you. “Doesn’t look like coming once subdued you anyway.” 

“Say it,” he peels away from your neck, grinning down at you.

“Say what?” 

“That you want me to fuck you again.” 

You roll your eyes. “No way.” 

His grin only wides when he rolls his hips and your words break into a loud, wanton moan. “That is okay, your body speaks for you anyway.” 

Before you can reply, he silences you with a kiss.

[something-tofightfor]

A Wonderful, Awful Idea / 5

Pairing: Pero Tovar x Female Reader (Modern AU)

Word Count: 9,438

Summary: You and Pero have talked things through - and it's time to figure out what comes next for you.

For both of you, though, that means being open, honest ... and asking for exactly what you want.

Rating: M/E : This is a smutty one, friends. It's finally happening.

Author's Note:

The end is here, and I cannot thank you enough for the support and interest you've shown in this story. It definitely grew from what I first envisioned it to be, and I'm really happy with the outcome - I hope you are, too. It's always so intimidating to write for a new character, but to know that one of my favorite Pero writers - I'm looking at you, @oonajaeadira - has enjoyed this take on him means a TON.

The title comes from Dr. Seuss' How the Grinch Stole Christmas.

Thank you for reading!

*dividers by @/strangergraphics

You both sat on the couch while you ate, and Pero filled you in on exactly what had happened with the power at the party. 

“Something in the kitchen overloaded the wiring.” He waved his hand in the air, fingers clutching the remnants of a sandwich. “And when they tried to reset that breaker, they tripped the whole building.” He laughed, shaking his head and swearing under his breath. “That’s how it all came back so quickly.” 

“I’m glad it wasn’t anything serious.” He nodded as he chewed. “Did they get pissed at you since you weren’t right there to protect Christina?” 

“No.” He took another bite. “The assignment was never to be right beside her at all times. William and I were further away than her team, and I just happened to be near you.” You didn’t quite think that was the truth; Pero had to have searched for you in order to be that close, since you’d purposely moved almost all the way across the party space. “And I got to where they were as soon as I could to assess the situation. I did my job.” 

“You protected me.” You took a bite of the food he’d gotten you, giving yourself a few seconds to think. “You were there to protect someone else, and you still … You were mad at me, Pero. I didn’t expect …” 

“I did. And I would do it again. I told you that.” He sipped from his cup,  lips wrapping around the straw. “Even upset, I was still worried about you.” Pero balled up the wrapper from his meal and then leaned back against the couch cushions. “I was actually going to pull you to the side at the party and apologize because I acted like an asshole. But you didn’t give me the chance.” He looked past you and his eyes widened. “It’s almost midnight.” 

You looked, too, and with a smile you realized that as soon as the clock struck 12, you could be the first person to wish Pero a Merry Christmas. I wonder if he’s ever had anyone with him for a holiday like this before. “I’m sad we don’t have our hats from the meet and greet.” You looked back at him, grinning. “Santa Pero tucking me into bed on Christmas Eve would be -” 

He groaned, covering his face with both hands as you laughed, reaching over to settle your hand between his shoulders. “You would like that, wouldn’t you.” 

“I would.” Leaning in, you let your mouth hover just above his ear. “I would like that very much, Pero Tovar.” You weren’t used to having to take such a lead with men, but until Pero truly believed that your interest was genuine - and not short term - you had no issue with being a little more forward than usual to get results. Because I don’t think it’ll be this way forever. He just needs to get comfortable.

“I kept your toothbrush.” He looked over at you, a half smile on his lips. “I hoped you’d get  to use it again.” Really? You both sat up and Pero pointed at the hallway. “I’m going to clean up out here, if you need to do anything to get ready for bed.” He stood, reaching out with one hand. “I have one request though.” Arching a brow, you waited for him to continue. “Wait… and let me help you out of those clothes.” 

It took a little while for the two of you to do what you needed to do, but the whole time, your heart was racing. 

You figured he was nervous, too, but you hoped that it was in a good way, Pero’s desire for you outweighing any lingering apprehension he felt about the situation. By the time you made your way into his bedroom, flipping the light switch on and taking a look around the space, you were determined to do whatever it took to put him at ease. It keeps me from getting into my own head, too. 

There were a few photos on the walls - mostly of Pero, Lin and William, but there were a few more, too, that looked like they’d been taken on his phone and printed out. Some of them were scenery, some of them were cityscapes, and you made a mental note to ask him about them - and where they’d been taken. Later. Not tonight. 

His room was cozy, and out of the other places in his home that you’d spent time in, it felt the most like him. It wasn’t just because it smelled like Pero - it also seemed to be the most lived in. “I like seeing you in here.” He appeared in the doorway, and then leaned against it. “It’s unexpected, but I like it.” 

“Do you?” He nodded, eyeing you up and down. I like being in here. “Your bed looks comfortable.” You pointed, leaning back and against the dresser. “Is it?” 

“You’ll find out soon.” Pero stepped forward, his motion smooth and slow, almost graceful. “Before anything happens, I …” He stopped in front of you, lifting one hand to tilt your chin up. “After what I told you earlier, I figured you might have some … concerns.” Oh. The paying for sex. I didn’t … “It’s been months since I’ve done that. I’m careful, and always use protection. And afterward…” He wet his lips. “I get tested regularly, since all of my relationships are short-lived. I haven’t been with anyone since the last time I got results, so …” He reached into his pocket and pulled his phone out, holding it up. “I can show you, but -”

“I trust you.” You put a hand at the center of his chest. “And I know you’re going to say that it’s stupid to trust someone with something like that, but I do.” Because trust is important. He looked confused and then the expression turned to acceptance, Pero’s gaze moving over your face. “Anything else?” 

“No.” He paused, and then frowned. “Well, yes.” You smiled at that, giving him a chance to continue. “I might need …” He closed his eyes and groaned. “Just be patient with me, please?” 

“Patient?” He nodded slowly. “Of course, Pero.” But what does that even mean? “Do you need anything else, or are we in here for the night?” He thought for a few seconds and then moved his head from side to side, eyes locked with yours. 

“I only need you.” Inhaling sharply through your nose at the confession, you didn’t even think about it before you leaned in and kissed him, the tips of your fingers curling inward and against the material of his shirt. His hands settled in at your waist to hold you close, and when Pero returned the kiss, he did it with purpose, his full lips moving with yours like it wasn’t a new thing. 

You felt his tongue probing along your lower one and parted them for him, hoping that Pero wouldn’t tease you the same way he had earlier. Seconds later, you got your wish when it slipped past your lips to meet yours, Pero’s fingers digging in and making you sigh. He stopped immediately, breaking the kiss and backing off enough that you saw the wide eyed expression on his face. This must be the patience thing. 

“That was a good noise. Please don’t stop.” You moved your hand as you spoke, sliding it over so that you could begin to undo his buttons. “This shirt is a great color for you.” Breaking eye contact, you watched the motion of your fingers and listened to each of Pero’s sharp inhales as you moved downward. “I can’t wait to see it on the floor.” 

He snorted at that and you were thankful for it, the sound confirming that he wasn’t getting too lost in his own head about what was happening. “I was thinking the same thing earlier tonight about what you are wearing.” He spoke quietly, pulling the bottom hem of your shirt free from where it was tucked in. “But I was also wondering what you have on beneath it.” 

You reached the last button before his waist and then looked back up, biting your lip. “You’re about to find out.” His smile spread slowly, the expression one you weren’t used to seeing him wear. Pero tipped his head to the right and dropped a kiss at the corner of your mouth, hands sliding up and beneath your shirt so that his palms were flush with your skin. 

It was your turn to gasp then, the warmth of his hands comforting. He continued to kiss his way across the lower half of your face, lips skating over your cheek and then toward your ear before dropping down to follow the line of your jaw. Your hands stayed busy, moving lower to the button on his pants and popping it free, which gave you a chance to pull his shirt loose, too, and finish undoing it. 

He groaned when you touched his abdomen, pushing the sides of the shirt apart, and when Pero backed away, there was a wild look in his eyes.”I like this. The … slowness? You are taking your time, and… it is new.” Glancing over his shoulder so that you could see the clock on his nightstand, your eyebrows shot up. Perfect. 

“I’m just enjoying opening my first present.” You wrinkled your nose. “Merry Christmas, by the way. According to your clock, it’s after midnight.” He turned to look, too, and then said your name when he faced you again. 

“Sorry that I am not wearing a bow.” He wet his lips, the flash of his tongue distracting you. “To make this more festive.” 

“You don’t need one.” Using one finger, you prodded at the chain around his neck. “This is shiny enough.” And. “And I think you should leave it on.” That took him by surprise, but Pero quickly agreed, the arch of one eyebrow telling you that he was intrigued by your request. “Help me out here.” You moved your hands to his shirt again, easing it back and over his shoulders. “Let go of me for a second.” 

He did. It only took you moments to remove the silvery fabric, revealing that beneath it, he had on a black v-neck t shirt that was stretched over his chest and shoulders. Holy shit look at him. “What is that look for?” 

“I… you…” Gesturing with one hand, you laughed nervously. “You’re still almost fully dressed, and …” You trailed off as he reached down and pulled the shirt up and over his head, giving you your first real glimpse of skin. 

“There. Now I have solved your problems.” He grinned, scratching at the back of his neck with one hand.

“No, you’ve given me about a million more.” That made him laugh, and when Pero reached for your hand and squeezed it, leading you the few steps toward his bed, you followed. You eyed him as you walked, mapping the way his muscles looked as they moved beneath his skin and the way his unbuttoned pants sat at his waist, hugging his hips. 

“I think,” he started, turning back to look at you and reaching for your shirt, his fingers working the buttons. “That I enjoy you looking at me this way almost as much as I enjoyed the way you spoke to Christina that first night.” He paused, palming the swell of your breast with one hand and then returned to his task. “Would you say the same thing to anyone else that talked about me like she did?”

“Would you want me to?” You were breathless as you spoke, the feeling of his touch and the heat of his gaze making it hard for you to concentrate. “Is that something that I can… oh God, Pero, please just…” You broke off mid-sentence as he finished and began to push your shirt over your shoulders, his hands sliding slowly up your body. “Keep touching me.”

The smile remained on his face as he removed your shirt, the material sliding down your arms and then onto the floor. Instead of putting his hands back on your torso he used them to cradle your face, tilting it so that when he leaned in, your mouth was perfectly lined up with his. “Yes.” He mumbled the words between kisses, one hand siding back to the nape of your neck and the other dropping to your shoulder. “I would want you to.” 

You whimpered at that, wrapping your arms around Pero and stepping forward to press yourself against him. The feeling of his bare chest pressed to your body made you almost dizzy, and when your fingers dug into his back for balance, He grunted, pulling on the strap of your bra and dragging it over your shoulder. 

As much as you wanted to slow things down and savor the first time you went to bed with Pero, you knew that as soon as he removed your bra, there’d be no going back. And that’s fine. It surprised you when he broke the kiss and spun you around, winding his arms around you from behind and then ducking his head to kiss your shoulder. Wait, what is he… 

Pero rocked his hips forward, the hand on your stomach urging you backward while the other one slipped downward, the tips of his fingers dipping beneath the waistband of your pants. Tipping your head back so that you could lean it against his shoulder, you sighed, closing your eyes. He was hard beneath his own pants, the length of him pressed against you, and when you reached for the hand on your belly, guiding it upward, he let you. 

He got the hint - Pero using that hand to paw at your chest, the contrast between his skin and your bra moving against your skin almost distracting you from the fact that his other hand kept moving lower and lower, pushing your pants with it. “Pero, I -” That was all you got out before he kissed you again, the angle not the most comfortable but still welcome, as was the way he bit down on your lower lip before sucking it between his. Fuck, I am lucky. 

He pushed the lace of your bra - one of the ones you saved for special occasions - to the side and then swirled a thumb over that nipple, the motion making your back arch and pushing you into him again. Pero’s mouth moved from yours back down to your shoulder and stayed there, the scrape of his stubbled chin sharp in contrast to the way he touched you elsewhere. But I don’t want him behind me. “What is wrong?” He spoke quietly, turning his head inward and nuzzling against your jaw. “You are stiff.” 

“I want…” You hummed, reaching down to stop the movement of the hand at your waist. “I want to look at you, Pero. I want to see you, not just feel you.” Turning to face him, you nodded at the sight of the confused expression he wore. “We only get this once.” 

You hoped he understood what you meant - that after that night, you’d never get the chance to be together for the very first time again. And I want it to feel personal, not like … not like it’s just something that’s happening. “Whatever you want.” He smiled again, hands gliding down to squeeze your hips. “I cannot wait to see all of you.” 

Taking that as a sign, you reached up and behind you, unhooking your bra and then shrugging out of it before letting it drop to the ground. He watched that, lips parted, and then looked back at you, his palms following the contours of your body as they rose. Yes. Finally. You arched your back again, encouraging him to keep going, and when Pero’s hands finally made it to your chest and he touched you, you moaned, closing your eyes. 

As soon as he heard that, his touch went from light and exploratory to certain, pushing your breasts together as he leaned down and mouthed at your collarbone again. And when he moved lower, you urged him to continue with one hand in his hair, fingers tangled in his locks. 

He took one nipple between his lips and sucked on it before releasing it only to follow that with a few quick flicks of his tongue before switching to the other side. You would have been content to stand there for hours, but Pero straightened up, his eyes blazing as he met your gaze again. “I think it’s time we get into that bed.” He cleared his throat, both hands still stroking over your skin. “Do you want me to turn the lights off?” 

“No.” You answered immediately, flattening one hand against his chest. “Unless that makes you more comfortable.” 

Your answer took him by surprise, but Pero wasted no time walking you backwards the few steps it took you to reach the bed. And when your shins made contact with the frame, he stopped you, both hands moving to the button - and zipper - of your pants, undoing them swiftly. He pushed them down so that you could step out of them, but left your underwear in place. 

You were stunned that you didn’t feel self conscious standing in front of him in so little, because it hadn’t been that way with your previous partners. You sat down on the edge of the bed, looking up at Pero and watching as he put a hand on his hip and stared at you. A few seconds later, his smile widened and Pero reached for his waist, finishing with the zipper and easing his pants down. 

He was wearing trunks, the waistband low on his hips, and the legs stretched tight around his upper thighs. “Wow, Pero.” You licked your lips, head shaking back and forth as you eyed him, lingering on his torso - and waist. “I had no idea you were hiding that under all those clothes.” 

“I could say the same about you.” He reached down, adjusting the elastic over one hip without looking away from you. “Beautiful.” Heat rushed to your cheeks then, and you ducked your head but still heard Pero’s quiet chuckle. “You do not like compliments either, hmm?”

“I’m not used to them coming from you.” Cautiously, you looked back up and put your hands out, waiting for him to take them. “Want to get in here with me?” He nodded, taking a half step forward and standing between your legs. “C’mere, Pero.” 

He leaned down, mouth finding yours again, and the series of events that followed happened almost before you could process it. 

As you kissed, Pero put one knee on top of the mattress and balanced his weight on it, using the forward motion of his body to urge you onto your back. He let go of your hands, sliding one of his beneath your head while he flattened the other palm on the bed, allowing him to hover over you. You moved your hands over his back, exploring the expanse of muscle as it flexed beneath your touch. I can’t believe this is happening. 

When you moved them down to his waist - and then lower, palms curved to follow his contours, Pero growled into your kiss, his hips snapping forward to push his length against the front of your hip. Your fingers curled inward, holding him in place - and Pero took the hint. 

He lowered his body more, grinding against you and letting you feel the weight of him. “Pero we need to move up. I…” Sighing as he paused long enough to breathe - and kiss the column of your throat - you shivered the words out. “I want us to be comfortable, and…” He backed off, giving you an opportunity to resituate yourself - and then he was on you again. 

He straddled you, legs spread wide so that when he leaned forward, he could continue the same motion as earlier. Your hands returned to the same place they’d been before, too, but instead of just touching him, you pushed your fingers beneath the material and held onto him, guiding his hips with skin-to-skin contact for the first time. 

But Pero didn’t kiss your mouth again; instead he worked his way down your throat to your chest, lips trailing along the length of your collarbone before he bit down gently, accompanied by a thrust of his hips. You could feel the cool metal of the chain as it dragged against your skin, your mind trying to focus on that and the feeling of his mouth at the same time - and failing. You were overwhelmed by him, and he’d barely touched you. I haven’t really touched him, either. 

He dragged his tongue over your skin and kissed his way down, drawing one nipple back between his lips before releasing it with a pop. “I could do this all night.” He spoke without moving away from you, the breath from each exhale warm as it hit your damp skin. “But I am impatient, and I’m sure you are, too.” 

He moved off of you and then laid down beside you, stretching out along the length of your body. When you turned your head to look at him, you weren’t expecting him to kiss you right away, his hand laying lightly against your cheek. 

Wiggling your hips, you settled in, heartbeat rapid, even after he backed away. “So I have to be patient, but you get to be impatient? That doesn’t seem fair.” He rolled his eyes, mouth opening to reply - but you didn’t give him the chance to. “Lay back.” He did as you asked, and then you propped yourself up on one elbow, taking him in. 

You were impatient too, but the desire to remind him that you were thinking beyond that night was more important. I need to show him that I want him. Sliding your hand over his stomach, you focused on the skin beneath his navel and above his waistband, fingertips circling over the dark trail of hair there before you moved back up, dragging the edges of your nails along his skin. Pero grunted, gritting his teeth - but didn’t look away. 

You leaned forward and kissed his chest, closing your eyes as you pressed your lips to his skin. You kept your hand moving, too, covering as much of his body as you could without wavering in your attention. There were parts of him that were more sensitive than others - his body jerked when you reached a spot on his side that was about halfway up his ribcage, and he groaned at the feeling of your tongue dragging slowly over the base of his throat, the breath leaving him in a whoosh when you took the chain between your teeth and tugged. 

But when your hand moved back down at the same time you redirected your kisses to the underside of his jaw, Pero stopped you, his fingers closing around yours. “No. Stop.” You raised your head in concern, but he didn’t look angry - just overstimulated. “If you touch me now, I will not make it inside of you.” He swallowed as your eyes widened in surprise. “Next time. I promise you, but … not yet.” 

“Ok, Pero.” You took a deep breath. “I understand.” He squeezed your hand and then released it, and you used it to balance yourself as you lowered your head again, mouth returning to its previous path. Pero’s hand moved almost lazily up your side as you left a trail of kisses across his face, though you avoided his mouth. You lingered at the patch in his beard before turning your head inward and nuzzling against his nose before taking another breath and deciding that if you were in - you were all in. 

When you pressed your lips to the bottom edge of his scar for the first time, Pero’s hold on you tightened, but you didn’t let that deter you. You followed the length of it with your lips, mindful of the fact that he could tell you to stop at any time, but it wasn’t until you softly kissed his closed eyelid - and felt dampness beneath your lips - that you pulled away. “Pero? Is everything… I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have -”

“No.” He moved faster than you thought was possible from his position, rolling the two of you over so that you were on your back and he was above you again. “You are … no one has ever…” He couldn’t get the words out, but you understood what he was trying to say. “You are too good for me.” His voice was unsteady, but he kissed you in the pause before he spoke again, mouth gentle. “I do not deserve someone like you after what I -” He needs to stop this. 

“You do, Pero.” Reaching up, you took his face between his hands, forcing him to look at you. “You deserve good things. You deserve to be happy. And all of those people that treated you like shit don’t matter, because the way they were to you says more about them than it does about you. And I know this is entirely too fucking much for the first time with someone, but you need to hear it. If I have to keep reminding you that that’s the truth, I’ll do it every single time we’re together, if that’s what it takes.” 

He was stunned - you saw the surprise in his eyes … but to your relief, he didn’t contradict you. “If you say so.” He gave you a small smile. “Did I ruin it?”

“No.” Biting the inside of your lip, you cocked your head to the side. “You can go ahead and find out just how much you didn’t ruin it if you want.” He looked confused, but after a few moments seemed to understand, shifting back into position next to you and then dragging his hand down the length of your body. “You can touch me, Pero. I -” 

That was as far as you got before he did as you asked. Pero’s eyes went wide as he felt the dampness of the only piece of clothing you still wore, your back arching as you reacted to his touch. “You are … this is…” He looked down, chest heaving as he watched the movement. “Shit.” 

He touched you through the thin material first, two fingers gliding along the outline of you, and when you widened the spread of your legs to give him more room, he took the opportunity to add a third finger and some pressure, his attention still on his hand. But that’s fine, you rationalized as he swirled his fingers in a slow circle. I want him to watch. 

You reached down then, lifting your hips again to push the waistband down and over your thighs. Pero helped you out, tugging them further and exposing you to him for he first time. He slid his hand back up the inside of your thigh, and when he finally touched you, you moaned at the feeling, closing your eyes and pressing your head into the pillow. “Pero.” 

You didn’t recognize the sound of your own voice, but it did something to Pero, who dropped his head, lips latching onto your shoulder while his fingers kept moving. He parted you with two of them, using a third to circle slowly over and over in the space between. It felt incredible, Pero’s touch not at all what you’d expected, and when he widened the circle and extended his fingers down, you curled your toes and opened your eyes - one hand fisting the blankets beside you and the other clamping down against his bare back. 

He slid one finger into you and you rocked your hips forward, Pero replacing lips with teeth as you tilted your chin down, burying your nose in his hair. One finger became two, Pero thrusting them in and out of you slowly. He was slow and methodical, entirely focused on what he was doing - and you couldn’t get enough. 

Widening the spread of your legs even more, you rolled your hips to meet each thrust, mouth open as you took and released quick, shallow breaths. You didn’t even register that he’d released your skin from between his teeth until Pero’s head rose and he spoke your name. “I think you’re ready for me. I hope you’re ready for me, because -”

“Yes. I - ohhh.” He kept his eyes on you as his hand continued to move, and even though it was difficult, you didn’t close yours. You caught the smile he gave you as he watched your reaction, Pero’s lips quirking upward and his eyes darkening. “Need you, Pero.” Reaching down, you touched his wrist, pushing on it gently. “Please.” 

He removed his fingers slowly, and you hummed as they slipped free. “Give me a second.” He brought his hand up, eyeing how slick they were - and then before you had a chance to say anything, he popped them into his mouth, eyes closing at the taste of you. You gasped, but it didn’t cover up the sound of his deep, satisfied groan. Holy fuck, I wasn’t expecting that, I didn’t… 

He rolled away from you, fingers still in his mouth, and then you heard the bedside table drawer open. It’s happening. But Pero stood up suddenly, climbing out of the bed and then tossing a condom toward you. “What are -”

“What do you want?” He glanced down as he spoke, hands at his hips and beginning to push his underwear down. “No, that is the wrong question.” He looked back up, the smile back on his face, though that time, it was more of a smirk. “How do you want this?” 

“I…” You were torn between looking him in the eye and wanting to watch the final bits of his skin come into view. “Pero, I…” He laughed, the sound low, and then stepped out of his underwear, briefly bending over before he straightened up, giving you an unobstructed view at his entire body. Wow. Ok. You wanted to touch him - wanted to know what he felt like in your hand and sliding between your fingers. You wanted to taste him, too, the thought of weight of him against your tongue and the heat of him as he came consuming you. But that’s not happening tonight. 

Pero reached down with the same hand he’d touched you with to wrap his fingers around his length, which distracted you again. Damn him. “Well?” He stroked himself lazily, and you filed the motion away for later, paying attention to the way he held himself and where he squeezed just a little extra. His hands are so goddamn big. “I need to know how -”

“Whatever you’re used to?” You rested one hand on your abdomen, turning your cheek toward the pillow without breaking eye contact. “I want the opposite.” It was yet another risk to ask Pero to consciously choose a different position and approach to sex than he usually did, but you hoped that he understood why you were asking for it - and what you hoped it would signal. “Is that alright?” 

He was surprised by your request, but it didn’t keep him immobile for long, Pero putting one knee on the mattress and climbing back into bed. He reached for the foil square with his free hand and only let go of himself when he moved to open it. “It’s more than alright.” He looked down, and then resituated his hand at his base as he rolled the condom on, nodding his head. “It is a good reminder.” 

He crawled toward you then and leaned over, using the knuckles on one hand to stroke your cheek. “A reminder?” 

“Yes.” Pero stretched out beside you, rolling onto his side and facing you. “That this is not that.” He understands. Pero closed the distance between you, his hand on your side. When he kissed you, it wasn’t quite timid but there was a slight hesitation before he fully committed to it, his full lips slotted with yours before he parted them, urging you to do the same. It’s going to be OK, Pero.

As the kiss deepened, he used the hand on your side to guide your leg into place, positioning it so that your thigh rested atop his hip. You could feel him that way - pressing against you, each shallow flex of his hips increasing the contact. 

“Are you sure?” He spoke between kisses, his damp forehead pressed to yours. “That you want this? With me?” 

“I am.” You nodded, moving your hand from the back of his head to his shoulder. “Are you?” He didn’t speak, but Pero reached between your bodies, his fingers brushing against your center again as he lined himself up. You kept eye contact with him as he inched forward, and were unable to look away, even as he used a slow thrust to push inside of you. Finally. 

You nodded after a few seconds and then Pero rocked forward again, moving his hand to the back of your thigh to pull you closer. “I need a minute.” His voice was strained, and you could see that he was gritting his teeth. “If I move, I -” You kissed him then, interrupting his words and trying to keep your own hips from moving. It’s alright. 

He didn’t need to explain to you, because you understood. You were already tightly wound from the way he’d touched you, and thanks to the way he was holding you open, you knew that once he found a rhythm, you’d be able to come from the friction of your body against his alone. And if I finish quick, he will, too. 

Pero licked into your mouth, tongue dragging over the edges of your teeth, and when he moved his hips, you did, too, meeting his motion. As he picked up speed, the kiss turned sloppier and his grip on your thigh tightened. You threaded your fingers through his hair, gripping it and tugging, mouth hanging open as you lost yourself in him. 

You stopped trying to kiss him back and instead turned your head so that you could pant into his ear, Pero’s cheek pressed against the pillow and each of his exhales hitting your throat. He kept hold of your thigh and lengthened his strokes, slowing down. What is he… 

When he rolled forward, pushing you onto your back, you went willingly, Pero angling his hips so that he could keep moving. But when he pulled all the way out of you you cried out, fingers tightening in his hair and against his shoulder. “Why did you stop?” You gasped the words out, eyes wide open as you stared up at him. “Pero, why did -”

“I did not stop.” He murmured the words, leaning down to kiss you again as he ran the hand on your thigh along your skin. “I paused so I could make us more comfortable.” After sitting up, he reached down with both hands and widened the spread of your legs so that he could kneel between them. You didn’t miss it when his gaze moved over the length of your body, or the way his jaw twitched at the sight of you, Pero’s fingers curling against your thighs. 

“You’re a fucking tease, Pero Tovar.” You covered your face with both hands. “And you know it.” He laughed, the sound low, and then you felt the mattress dip as he shifted, one of his hands releasing your leg. I want to see this. 

Propping yourself up on both elbows, you looked down and watched as he concentrated, eyes moving between himself and you as he re-aligned. Pero’s shoulders rose and fell as he took and released a deep breath… and then he was sliding into you again, the sight of his length disappearing into your body making your eyes close as you collapsed back onto the bed. 

He started with deep, slow thrusts as he leaned forward, hands moving to the blankets on either side of your body. By the time he’d stretched out enough that he could bend his elbows and rest his weight on them, those movements had quickened. He went deeper from that angle, each forward flex of his hips accompanied by a quiet grunt and met with a reflex thrust of your own. 

You flattened one foot on the bed and bent your knee, angling that leg outward while wrapping the other one around his hip again, your heel digging into the back of his calf and urging him even closer - which was next to impossible. As you closed your eyes, you raised both hands and dug your nails into his shoulders, not even trying to conceal the noises you made - and to your delight, Pero didn’t, either. 

You’d remember them forever - the way he grunted and groaned, a quiet snarl escaping his lips when you lifted your hips and met a particularly sudden thrust of his, which was followed by an equally devastating one, his head dropping so that the tip of his nose met the front of your shoulder. He kept it there for the next few minutes, his bedroom filled with the sounds both of you made, but when he spoke your name, pulling it from deep within himself, you forced your eyes open, watching as he raised his head and looked down at you. 

Pero didn’t falter in his movement, and you bit your lip at the way he gritted his teeth, nose wrinkling before he was able to speak again. “You feel incredible.” He swallowed, nodding as he continued. “Fucking perfect.” It was enough to make you shiver, and you knew he caught the motion when he actually smiled, Pero leaning down to kiss you on the mouth. “Will you come this way? Is -”

��Mmhmm.” You closed your eyes and gasped, back arching off of the bed when he swiveled his hips, the length of him buried inside you. “Oh, fuck, Pero.” He switched to shallow thrusts, giving you a chance to collect yourself. “Can you?” 

“Of course.” He licked his lips, nodding. “I am holding back, I -” 

“Don’t.” Don’t you dare. “I don’t want you to.” Moving one hand from his back to between your bodies, you nodded again, flexing your calf muscles. “Come, Pero. Let me feel you.” You dragged your hand over your skin and moved your fingers into place, making sure to graze his skin with the edges of your nails. He looked confused for a second, but when you went lower, spreading your fingers wide enough so that you could feel where he entered you, the look in his eyes changed to one of understanding. “Fuck me like you’ve waited three years to do it, Pero.”

He sped up again, maintaining eye contact for a few seconds before he slammed them shut and tilted his head back. You closed yours, too, sighing. It felt good, the length of him sliding between your fingers before you moved your hand into place, two fingers pressed against your skin and gliding in a slow circle. But before you could find your own rhythm, Pero slowed down again, a growl tearing from his throat. 

“No. Not like this. Not with you.” You opened your eyes, the motion of your hand stuttering - and it stopped when you saw the way he was looking at you. He’s never looked at … oh, shit. Pero’s brow was furrowed, his lips parted, and he was staring at you like you were the only thing he ever wanted to look at again. “Let me watch you.” 

He sunk into you all the way and then paused, rotating his hips in a slow circle. It trapped your hand between the two of you, and Pero’s eyes were molten when he spoke again, voice low and full of need. 

“Let me feel you.” 

He drew his hips back, giving your hand the space it needed to begin moving again. You were hesitant. But when he nodded, arching a brow, you let out a long breath and did just that. 

Starting slow, you circled your fingers, dragging them through your slick and spreading it over your skin. You hummed at your own touch, letting your mind wander to Pero’s fingers earlier, and when he started to move again, gradually increasing his pace to match the motion of your hand, you squeezed your eyes shut and let out a shaky breath. “Pero, it won’t…” You hummed, adding pressure and a little speed. “It’s going to be quick, and -”

“Good.” He leaned down, mouth finding yours briefly. “We have waited too long.” 

You agreed, and that was all you needed to speed up more, touching yourself the way you usually did. Eyes opening again, you found that Pero was still watching you, though his were heavy lidded - evidence of his body’s response to yours. 

As the moments passed, you felt your own body’s response - a heat in your belly, the quickening of your heartbeat, muscles tensing as you got closer and closer to a moment that hours earlier, you hadn’t imagined was possible. “Pero, I -” 

He smiled at you, nodding, and when you let go of him to drop your hand to the mattress, he grabbed for it without missing a beat, linking your fingers together and bringing both of them up next to your head. His grip tightened with your gasp, Pero’s hips flexing forward at the same time you thrust yours upward, increasing the friction. 

It was enough. 

You came with a gasp, fingers stuttering as your muscles clenched around him, Pero’s motion continuing as your toes curled and you squeezed his hand. He mumbled two words - that’s it - and you watched as his smile grew, your own mouth hanging open as you pressed your head into the pillow. Oh my god. 

You cried out as a wave of pleasure coursed through you, the feel of him moving within you prolonging the moment - and then Pero was coming, too, one last sharp thrust burying him as deep as possible as he finished. You felt him as he filled the condom, Pero’s release coming in spurts as your body pulled him in deeper and sent a second wave through you, making you shudder beneath him. Oh, fuck. Oh fuck, I… 

Your hand fell away from your body and Pero’s head dropped again, his breath ragged as he rested his forehead against your shoulder and more of his weight on you. 

Neither of you said anything for almost a minute, and to your surprise, it was Pero who opened his mouth first, head turning inward so that when he spoke, it was against the side of your neck. “I do not want to move.” He sighed and then kissed your skin, lips pressed to your pulse point. “Are you alright? You -” 

“Pero.” Unlinking your fingers, you reached up and dragged them through his hair, pulling the sweat-damp strands away from his face. “I’m more than alright.” He lifted his head to look at you, eyes wide. “And I don’t want to move either, but if we don’t, I’ll fall asleep right here, and that would be messy.” 

His lips twitched into a half smile and before you could say anything, he was kissing you, tongue dipping past your lips and into your mouth. I’ll never say no to this. He kissed you deeply, only breaking it when he needed to breathe… but the smile was still there and his eyes were bright - Pero obviously sated but still alert. “You’re right.” Without saying anything else, he reached down between you and then pulled out, rolling away and laying on his back beside you. 

You missed him immediately, and weren’t able to conceal your gasp at the way it felt to realize that, head turning to the side so that you could look at him. “Pero, I -”

“No.” Turning his head, he winked at you. “Not yet. We will talk when we are done.” 

Ten minutes later, you stepped out of the bathroom wrapped in one of his robes only to find the bedroom empty. 

Your pulse had settled and you felt calmer, though you were still reeling from what had happened between you. You hadn’t stopped smiling while you were in the bathroom - even as you washed your face and brushed your teeth again, the expression had stayed put. And it’ll be there for a long time, too. Because … that was everything I wanted. 

“Are you going to sleep in that?” He spoke from behind you, and when you turned toward the sound, you saw that he was holding two bottles of water, his shoulder pressed against the doorframe. “Because if you are, you are overdressed.” 

He’d only put on his underwear, and you didn’t even try to keep from staring at him greedily, taking in the sight of his almost naked body. “I didn’t plan on it.” You untied the belt and let it drop to the floor, the sides of the robe splitting apart to expose a strip of skin at the center of your body. “If that’s alright.” 

“It is preferred.” He moved closer, holding one of the bottles out to you. “I usually wear nothing to bed.” That was a piece of information you filed away, too, and after draining almost half of the bottle, you shrugged the robe down and over your shoulders before tossing it to the side and getting back into bed - though you climbed under the covers that time. 

He flipped the light switch off and then drank deeply from the bottle before setting it down and taking off his underwear. Even in the low light coming in through the slats in the window blinds, you could see him clearly, watching his outline before he climbed into bed and moved as close to you as he could get. “What were you going to say earlier?” He flattened his hand atop the pillow as he spoke, though he didn’t touch you. 

“I was going to say,” you started as you stroked the length of his bare arm, knuckles dragging along his skin. “That when you just … rolled away? It was … I missed …” Just say it. “It’s so stupid, Pero, but you were there and then you weren’t, and I realized that -”

“It is not stupid.” He moved his hand enough so that he could touch your face, his thumb sliding over your cheek. “I was … abrupt. I will work on that.” He inched closer, his cheek scraping across the pillow. “With you, hopefully.” He blinked slowly, and you felt as he held his breath, waiting for your response. Oh, Pero. 

“We might need a lot of practice.” Biting your lip, you also moved your head closer, though you didn’t break eye contact. “But I’m up for it.” A smile spread slowly across his face, Pero’s eyes widening slightly before he closed them, mouth finding yours in a brief - but tender - kiss. 

“Practice is the only way to improve.” Moving his hand from your face to your side, Pero curled his fingers over your hip. “I hope that tonight was what you wanted it to be.” Is he seriously questioning this? 

“It started out kind of rocky, but yeah, Pero. It was.” You paused, thinking. “It is.” It made your head spin to think about everything that had happened throughout the previous evening - and the weeks leading up to it. But it’s worth it. He’s worth it. “How do you feel about this?”

“About this or about you?” He narrowed his eyes, but then grinned. “Because the answer is the same for both: I feel good. This is what I want.” He kissed you again, nodding. “You are what I want.” 

His direct response caught you off guard. But as the kiss continued, his arm winding around you and pulling your body flush against his as you flattened your hand against his back, you understood that it shouldn’t have. If there was anything that you knew to be true about Pero, it was that when he spoke, the words had meaning. It takes him a lot to get there, though.

The kiss ended and as Pero settled back in against the pillow, he yawned, you not far behind. “It is late.” He sighed, moving his leg so that he could hook it over your calf. “We should sleep.” You agreed - you were exhausted, and the warmth and comfort of being in bed next to him was making you drowsy. 

Instead of replying, you tucked your chin and rested your forehead against his collarbone, closing your eyes. I could get used to this. He kissed the top of your head and you felt when he relaxed, the weight of his arm heavy where it laid against your body. I might already be used to this. 

You began to doze off, but were interrupted by the quiet utterance of your name, Pero’s fingers dancing over your lower back. “Thank you. Thank you for not giving up on me tonight and making me listen to you.” 

“It wasn’t just me.” You didn’t move your head, speaking the words with your lips just above his skin. “Christina was -”

“She put us in there, but it was all you. You said what I needed to hear, and I know you would not have made so much of an effort if you did not mean it.” He kissed you again, that one lingering. “Please don’t stop doing that.” 

You assured him that you wouldn’t, but the steady beat of his heart was lulling you to sleep, and you didn’t even try to open your eyes. We’ll talk more later. 

The following afternoon, you pulled up in front of William and Lin’s, Pero’s fingers tightly laced with yours on the center console. 

He’d woken up before you - and woken you up with his hands and mouth, Pero trailing touches and kisses over every part of your body that he could reach without disturbing you. From there, you’d had each other again - once in the bed and then again after breakfast, Pero pulling pleasure from you with his fingers in the kitchen before leading you into back into his bedroom. 

You’d showered at his place and changed back into your clothes, which made the stop at your house short, leaving you plenty of time to get to your destination. You hadn’t talked much about what came next, or how you’d present yourselves to your friends. But the fact that they know I left with Pero and didn’t come to get my car was probably telling. 

“Pero, we need to talk about something before we go in.” Shifting in your seat, you squeezed his hand. “What will we tell them? They’re not stupid, but -”

“They are not.” He cocked his head to the side, gesturing at the house with his free hand. “But is it their business? We don’t… we don’t even know what this is, do we?” 

“I know what I’d like it to be.” Pressing your lips together, you took a deep breath. “And what I think it could be, but … it’s only been one night, so maybe you’re right. Maybe we should just say that it’s not something we’re ready to talk about.”

“Then we are on the same page.” He leaned closer, lips curving upward as he smiled. “Maybe we should just wait and see if they ask, and then we decide how to respond.” The same page? Really? It shouldn’t have surprised you, especially with the way Pero had responded to your touch that morning and the previous night. It was obvious there was more to things than just physical attraction, that it hadn’t waned between you after the first time you’d been together. 

You wanted to kiss him in reply, but instead just nodded, giving him a return smile before pulling your hand free. “Want help carrying stuff in? I know you only have a couple presents, but I might as well make myself useful.” He laughed, nodding, and moments later, you were walking side by side up the driveway and toward the door. As the two of you paused on the front step, Pero reached for the doorbell while you froze, eyes on the space just above his head. Shit. Damn you, Lin. 

“Why are you looking at me like that?” He frowned, and then tilted his head back, looking up, too. “Oh. Is that … what I think it is?” 

“Yes.” You chuckled, looking down and closing your eyes. “That definitely wasn’t there yesterday. I can’t believe she’d put mistletoe up after the diner. It -”

“She is clever.” Pero took a step forward, reaching out to touch your chin. “I should have known.” His gaze dropped to your lips, Pero’s expression thoughtful. “It is tradition.” Heart pounding, you parted your lips and closed the distance between you, your fingers tight around the handle of the gift bag you carried. It is. “And I did say it was not the mistletoe I was saying no to, just the timing.” 

“Shut up and kiss me, Pero.” He laughed quietly but did as you asked, his lips warm against yours. You leaned into him, one hand flat against his chest, and your own heart beating wildly behind your ribcage. You meant to pull away quickly, but he didn’t let you - instead moving the hand at your jaw to the back of your neck, holding you in place while he continued to kiss you. He nipped at your lower lip, the bite of his teeth making you gasp. 

But Pero only laughed quietly and did it again before he deepened the kiss, his tongue pressing forward to meet yours and giving you a taste of the mouthwash he’d used at your place. 

“Well that worked out better than I thought it would.” With a jolt, you broke the kiss and whipped your head to the side, finding Lin and William standing in the open doorway, her phone held in her hands. Oh no. “Now I don’t have to ask how last night went.” 

She lowered the device and your attention moved to William, the man’s attempt to hold a laugh back not at all successful. “No, you don’t.” Pero cleared his throat and stepped closer to you, his arm winding around your waist. “And now we don’t have to figure out a way to tell you, either.” 

William laughed and Lin’s eyes widened as they stepped to the side to let you in. Say something. This isn’t what we just talked about. “Pero, I -”

He stopped you with a kiss to the temple as you crossed the threshold, his arm tightening. “This makes things much easier, I think.” 

He wasn’t wrong. William and Lin had seen - firsthand - what they needed to see in order to answer questions about what had happened between you the night before, and about whether or not things were resolved in regard to the contract. They’d still probably ask questions, which was fine. But maybe now they’ll do it in private. You knew you’d say much more just to Lin, and figured that Pero would be the same with William. 

After taking your coats and boots off, the four of you headed into the living room. You and Pero put your gifts beneath the tree with the others and then moved to sit on the couch while William and Lin chose an oversized chair, the woman curling up on his lap. 

Pero lowered himself onto the cushions first, and then, to your surprise, reached up to take your hand, fingers closing around yours before he pulled down on it. Oh. Is he… “Come here.” You sat next to him, leaving very little space between you. He released your hand as you got comfortable, draping his arm across your shoulders and urging you to lean against him. He is. He really… 

You couldn’t help yourself, closing your eyes as you leaned in further to kiss Pero’s stubbled cheek before whispering the words “I like this” into his ear. He hummed, fingers tightening on your shoulder. There was no containing your smile as you straightened up, moving your hand over to rest it on his thigh. I really like this. 

“So.” Lin cleared her throat and then spoke, her eyes bright as she looked between you. “Are we opening presents now, or after we eat?”

[604to647]

Mi Galleta

Modern AU Pero Tovar x fem!reader (complete)

Middle brooding pic of our man 🥵 is a screengrab from this Merry Tovar season gifset by @pedrorascal

Series Summary: Mi Galleta (Spanish for “my cookie”) is a 4 part mini-series about Modern AU Pero Tovar, a Grumpy-Bouncer for exclusive high end restaurant 'Lin' and Sunshine-Rich Girl with a Heart of Gold™️ Reader. Pero rides a sports bike cause it makes him even hotter but this isn’t a Biker AU 🏍️😊 (Fluff throughout, Angst = 🥠, Smut = 🍪; please see warnings on individual installments)

Each part is named after a cookie:

Part 1 - Ginger Molasses

Part 2 - White Chocolate Macadamia (light 🥠, 🍪)

Part 3 - Salted Caramel (light 🍪, 🥠)

Biker!Pero Boyfriend ✨Vibes✨

Hello Kitty

Sugar Drop (April Showers Challenge one-shot) (~🥠)

Part 4 - Oatmeal Raisin (🥠,🍪)

What’s a TomDaya? (Dear-uary Challenge epistolary fic; takes place before the closing events of Part 4) new!

Art

Biker!Pero by @maievdenoir (tysm!! 😍🥹🥹)

A/N: This series was born from a very vivid dream I had so maybe it doesn’t make any sense, but let’s just go with it and I hope you enjoy! Pero is my OG PBoi fanfic love and it’s been fun writing for the one who started it all 🥹

(Accidentally deleted the masterlist and had to repost 💀😅)

[its-quiet-colter]

Worn Bedrolls

FTM! Pero Tovar x Male!Reader

Word Count: 2983

Warnings: 18+ NSFW smut, oral sex, vaginal fingering, face sitting, multiple orgasms, established relationship, its all very soft dw. switch!Pero, no afab language used, just 'hole 'and 'dick'. also! some size difference between the reader and pero.

Notes: i had to re-write this so many times and it's still unedited but i love my stinky man so this is the end result. enjoy.

| archive of our own |

The campfire crackles in front of you, casting warm shadows into the night. It quells the ache in your feet as you stretch out on a patch of grass, unwinding after a hard day. Darkness surrounds your little campsite of thieves and vagabonds, the shrubs and nearby bushland keeping the rest of the world at bay. The nearest village is at least a day's ride away. More than enough for you. All of you are tucked away from civilization, granted a brief respite from fighting. Serenity at last, if only for a moment.

Meat roasts over the fire, unseasoned and stringy. It does little to stir your appetite. The meals you get at taverns are a luxury that you’re rarely afforded. Out here on the land, there is little in the way of delicacies and treats. But when you’ve been exerting yourself all day, you’re not going to complain about the quality of the food served. You’re swords for hire, not cooks. Men living off the land, moving from place to place, each job just another means to an end. Mercenaries. Each new day brings the certainty of danger and the uncertainty of survival. The men beside you are as untrustworthy and sly as yourself, no doubt ready to stab each other in the back at the slightest scent of more gold. It wouldn’t be the first time your companions have left another behind whilst escaping the law or you’ve awoken to one less member of your group at breakfast. One less mouth to feed, you had heard the other’s say with a grumble as everyone continued on.

Only one watches your back.

Quiet and brutish, he sits down beside you with a heavy thud, his back hitting the log as the sound of his chainmail shifts along with his movements. Pero Tovar grumbles underneath his breath, always moody after being given the responsibility of keeping watch. He loathes the silence that comes with sitting on the outskirts of camp, restlessly fidgeting with his knife and looking up at the faintest sound of wind rustling leaves and twigs snapping under the hooves of your horses grazing. The man is unable to sit still with his own thoughts for too long, always on edge and grumpy.

He reaches over you, picking up the plate you had just finished with as he tops it with his own dinner for the night. The meat is overcooked and unflavoured, a perfect complement to the stale bread that he shovels it into his mouth with a sigh. Like a man starving, Pero eats quietly to himself. In all the years you’ve known him, he’s never complained about food. He eats quietly, eyes focused on the flames in front of him, and it’s there under the warm golden glow of the fire do you see the underlying exhaustion in his gaze. So subtle only you could catch it.

“Tired?” You ask, gentle and curious. There is a softness in your voice that is only reserved for when it’s the two of you. Hushed and low to keep the others out. Just as it should be.

Pero is your partner in crime, your other half. You complement each other. Where he is brutish and strong, you are agile and quick-witted. Each skill set offered to defend the other. There is a sense of safety in numbers, or in this case just two. Of course you both sleep with one eye open, but your hands stay intertwined between your bedrolls. It’s as if the world is a little safer knowing you’ve got someone like Pero watching your blind spots. And he would never admit it, but he needs you far more than he’s ever admitted aloud.

“Mh.” Pero grumbles out a response to your question, a rumbly noise made around a mouthful of bread. His calloused fingers tear off another piece of meat to chew, always a messy eater.

Despite his lack of words, Pero isn’t one to lie. Not to you. His leg presses against your own, the touch telling you more than his words ever could. Broken down, exhausted and tired; it’s his way of asking for comfort.

It had been a big day, riding all morning and guarding a stagecoach across the plains. It was filled with some rich nobleman’s precious cargo– you didn’t know what, but you weren’t paid to ask questions. And it would be enough to get by, to restock when you arrived at the nearest town soon enough. On another day; you, Pero and the rest of your wayward group would be robbing the very loot you’re being paid to guard. It didn’t matter to you, so long as the money came through at the end.

The sun had been harsh, beating down on your backs for hours on end. Unforgiving. The armour you wore was heavy and thick, weighing you down throughout the day and leaving a dull ache in your shoulders. Sweat slicking your hair down. Pockets of forest offered only a temporary reprieve from the harsh, hot conditions, but it did little to help keep your heads held high. The dry air wore all of you down after long enough.

Pero’s armour is still caked in blood from today’s labour, having done most of the hard work out there as he always does. Ruthless and strong, he runs towards danger, drawn to it like a moth to a flame. Stubborn fool, you think. But as you look at him you hold nothing but fondness for your lover. It’s in his nature to be violent, and yet, through all the fighting, he’s watched your back since you were both little street urchin’s fighting for scraps. Pero has always swung hard and thought second, consequences be damned. But he’s always done it for you. Several of his scars are from the fact he charged head first into the battlefield to save you.

As children, you’d both steal food from vendors at bustling marketplaces, hiding under crates and maneuvering between legs, carts and stalls. Always sharing the scraps with each other. It made surviving far easier. Pero had protected you when a vendor had noticed you stealing from him, and called the city guards who chased you through winding streets and underground sewers. He nearly lost an eye that day. A nasty scar forever left on his face, marking from his left brow down to his cheek. He denies ever having cried that day, and you knew then that he would stick by you, no matter how many scars it earned him.

He’s a man of few words, but he loves you nonetheless.

“You’re filthy.” You say as Pero puts his now empty plate down, wiping his hands along his pants to be mixed in with dry sweat and blood. There is no heat in your words, nothing but gentleness reserved only for the man you love oh so dearly. Carefully, you pick up a rag and dip it into a basin of water, leaning over to wipe a streak of grime off his cheek. Pero looks at you, his eyes soft and warm as he blinks. Unmoving. He lets you pamper him for a moment, his hands resting over your wrists as he simply just… watches you.

You bring the rag over the dirt on his temple, cleaning his face. Mindful of the scar that adorns his cheek, your thumb brushes over his skin in reverent motions. The scruff of his stubble, the smell of sweat and gunpowder that lingers in his hair. All things you’ve come to love about him. He’s sunkissed from the harsh day outside, tired from the heat. There is a sluggishness about him, like he just wants to collapse in your arms and sleep off the exhaustion.

Pero’s hand moves down to your hip, leaning into your touch like a cat silently seeking comfort. He’s not a man that begs, and yet here he is, silently pleading for your touch. His hardened gaze softened to something far more intimate.

“Come on,” You whisper, standing up and offering a hand to Pero. Not that he needs your help, he’s far bigger than you. “Let’s call it a night, amor.”

He takes your hand, and instead of you pulling him up, you fall right over his chest with a soft sound escaping you.

“You did that on purpose.”

“No.” He lies. The flat tone in his voice hides his amusement as you huff and look down at him.

“Smug bastard.” You say, a hand brushing his wayward curls off his forehead affectionately.

“You love me.” He counters. And love him you do.

–

The tent you two sleep in is barren to say the least. Everything can be packed up and moved within a day. Bedrolls that have seen better days, a stray pair of boots, a rucksack for belongings, pieces of each other laid about. One day you’ll have a real home. But that day is far off for now whilst you’re out on some corner of the globe chasing your next job.

Pero flops down on his bedroll, and you lean down to tug at the straps holding his chainmail across his chest. Peeling away layer after layer of heavy armour until all that’s left is the man underneath. He watches silently as you straddle his lap, fingers sliding through his dirty hair as you brush his scruffy hair out of his eyes.

“Do you remember when we were children?” You start, tender and fond as you look down at him. “When we found that rusted old blade.”

“You cut my hair then.” Pero nods. He closes his eyes, resting his cheek against your chest as he takes comfort in your blunt nails scratching his scalp. “And you did a messy job.”

“They were blunt.” You counter against his half-hearted grumbling. A warm smile gracing your face as you kiss his head, nose buried in his hair. Pero smells like sweat and dirt– the outdoors clung to him, leaving him smelling like the woods you’ve taken to living in for a few months now.

His hands hold your hips, ensuring you aren’t leaving his lap anytime soon. Pero kisses at your collarbone, hands hiking up the back of your shirt to feel warm, smooth skin. Feeling you is grounding. He always needs your touch, needs to feel you close in order to know he’s exactly where he needs to be. Everything is okay when it’s just the two of you here like this. The outside world long forgotten.

Your shirt comes off, and then his as Pero starts to bite at your shoulder and leave marks along the curve of your neck. He loves the way he can make you sound, all breathy and relaxed as you lazily grind against his thigh and cradle his head against your chest. 

The tent feels warm and your hands move to grip his broad shoulders as your arousal starts to strain against your drawers. Pero’s body is marred by scars and bruises, years of fighting on display under you. The bandages wrapped around his chest are too tight, bound and put there in a haste to forget their purpose. It’s easier to ignore the bindings when they’re tucked under several layers of chainmail and leather. They’re old and caked in blood, starting to tear along his side where his armour pinches too tightly underneath his arm. You know he hates it, the discomfort on his face, the stubbornness to refuse to address it causes him more pain than he ever admits to having.

You see the way Pero’s brow twitches, the slight shuffle of discomfort that isn’t arousal as he feels your lingering gaze. You’ve seen him a thousand times before, and yet it’s still too much for him on some days. Even if you love him regardless of what his body looks like. You distract him with a kiss, pulling him away from his thoughts and back to the feel of you.

Pero pulls you impossibly closer, your crotch grinding together between thin layers of clothing. His hands slide under the waistband of your pants, squeezing your cheeks under his rough palm as he moans against your lips. Your fingers tug on his hair and Pero opens his mouth further, letting your tongue in as his breathing picks up.

“Shall I get the harness, mi espada?” You ask against his lips, panting for breath when you finally pull away just enough for breath. You’re already reaching for the rucksack, more than ready to be on the receiving end of his pleasure. There have been many incredible nights where Pero had fucked you hard and loving, in the harness you had made just for him and his pleasure. You’ll never forget the first time he wore it, how he made love to you in this very tent. How his face had been buried in your neck, your skin damp with his tears with your arms and legs thrown around him to hold him close.

This time however, Pero shakes his head and rolls you over so you’re pressed down on the worn bedroll with his legs on either side of your head. He takes a second to shuffle awkwardly out of his own trousers, throwing them off to the side. Your size difference is so noticeable when he’s above you like this, how large his thighs are and how warm and heavy he feels on top of you. It’s intoxicating, the smell of his arousal and the way his hands slide into your hair make you groan in eager anticipation. He tugs you up slightly by the hair, biting his lip hard as he pulls you in.

Damp curls and slick coat your chin as Pero grinds against you, a guttural moan leaving him as you grip his thighs and lap him up hungrily. He rubs his groin over you, mouth left open and panting as a string of noises leave him. The tent does little to muffle the sound of you both but neither of you care. Your companions know not to ask questions anyway; or find themselves at the end of Pero’s blade.

Heat pools in Pero’s gut as your nose rubs against his dick, your tongue sliding into his hole. Pero’s hips involuntarily buck against your face as he clenches around you, trying to draw out every little bit of pleasure he can as he uses you for his pleasure. And oh he loves it– loves the way you make him feel. How you know his body inside out. 

“Ngh fuck, Pero.” You moan against him, muffled. The vibrations and the curl of your tongue make his back bow and his eyes close as he feels the coil in his gut get tighter. The taste and smell of him is intoxicating, you could almost get drunk off it. You’ll never admit it, but your favourite place is right here, underneath him, nose buried in dark messy curls. His thighs, thick and imposing on either side of your head, shake as he feels himself grow closer to the first of many orgasms you’re bound to give him tonight. A brute of a man, he could so easily crush you, but he doesn't. Instead, he gives himself over to you and lets you care for him. A vulnerability reserved only for you.

Pero groans as he grinds against your tongue, trying to take you deeper. He’s close. But you can tell by the twitch in his legs and the tightening of his fist in your hair that he just needs that final push.

“Fingers?” You offer softly when you pull back for breath, panting and coated in his slick. You’re a wreck as you look up at him, but Pero doesn’t look all that different.

“Please.” You hear him whine. It’s not often that he does. Only when he’s close to coming and desperate does a man as brutish and aloof as Pero Tovar whine for his lover. And you’re oh so ready to indulge him.

Your hand comes up beside your chin, nudging slightly until he takes two fingers. His face falls slack, brows furrowed as you finger his hole and curl your fingers, leaving room to suck his tip hard. 

Pero moans, gushing around your fingers as he grinds against you and rides out his orgasm. He shakes above you and you’re left to lap up his juices like it’s the first time you’ve ever tasted him. 

He shivers, boneless and satisfied as you roll him onto his back and resettle between his legs which rest over your shoulders. You pepper kisses along his thighs, starting from above his knee and slowly moving further towards his aching need, giving him the time he needs to catch his breath. But you don’t wait too long before your fingers are in him again, three this time and your tongue laps at his dick– lips wrapped around him in a way you know he loves.

Pero’s second orgasm comes much easier, as does his third. He’s completely relaxed under you, content to let you take him apart and put him back together. Grinding your cock against the bedroll is almost an afterthought for you, too caught up in the way his thighs shake and his toes curl as you draw another orgasm out of him.

By the time you’re both spent and the edges of sleep threaten to draw you closer, Pero’s legs are tangled with yours and your head rests comfortably on his chest. Your eyes are closed and your breathing is light and airy. Both of you content with each other.

You feel a gentle kiss pressed to your head, his nose buried in your hair like it’s the most comforting scent in the world to him.

“Thank you,” He murmurs, the words muffled by your hair.

A small smile graces your lips as you fall asleep in your lover's arms.

[green-socks]

I win at life tbh

Quiz: What Pedro Boy is your perfect match?