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something-tofightfor · 2 months ago

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A Wonderful, Awful Idea / 1

Pairing: Pero Tovar x Female Reader (Modern AU)

Word Count: 10,196

Summary: Since meeting Pero Tovar through your friends William and Lin, you've wanted - and tried to get to know him. But he's always been less than enthusiastic about making it happen.

This Christmas, thanks to an assignment Pero and William take... everything changes.

Rating: M: language.

Author's Note:

I decided to write this last week and have worked on very little else since. I've always wanted to write for Pero, but have been really nervous to do so. He seemed like the perfect Christmas Grump to get the "discovering the true joy of the season" Hallmark-ish treatment. @oonajaeadira says that if he doesn't fight you the whole way when you try to write him, you're doing it wrong - and let me tell you, he's been a menace, so ... we'll see.

There are going to be three parts to this. The second is almost completely written, and the 3rd should be close behind. I'm sorry it won't be done by Christmas like I planned, but it is what it is.

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

Thank you for reading, and happy holidays!

*dividers by @/strangergraphics

“You want me to what?” You froze with one hand on a hanger, turning your head to look at your friend. “Repeat that, please.”

“I think you should be Tovar’s date for the holidays.” Lin shrugged her shoulders, flipping through a rack of long sleeve, button down shirts. “He’s single and you’re single, you’ve said you think he’s hot, and you know what they do, so he wouldn’t have to lie about it.”

You stared at her, dumbfounded, as Holly Jolly Christmas blared out through the store’s sound system. There’s more to it. “Tell me the truth.” You set the hanger back on the rack, stepping closer and crossing your arms. “Why does he need a date? Isn’t his work … private? Like, they’re not exactly supposed to be in the public eye, or -”

“That I can’t tell you. You’d have to talk to William about it.” She sighed, finally looking over at you. “But what I can tell you, is that I’ve been listening to my husband complain for a week that none of the women he’s reached out to will agree to do it because his best friend is kind of a grump.”

“So why would I?” You scoffed. “Tovar is … I think we’ve spoken about twenty words to each other in the three years I’ve known you. He isn’t exactly friendly, Lin. Why would I want to spend the holiday season with someone that hates me?”

“He doesn’t hate you. He doesn’t really hate anyone, he just doesn’t trust people, and doesn’t know how to … be gentle about saying it.” She held up a dark blue shirt, arching a brow. “How’s this one for William?”

“It’s a good color.” You sighed. “I think he’ll like it.” She beamed at you, draping the fabric over her arm. “Lin, this thing with Tovar, what is it? Really, I mean. Why are you suggesting this?”

“Because you’re both my friends. And I think it would be good for you.” She moved closer, reaching over to take your arm. “And good for him, too. He’s like that movie, the one with the Grinch?” You laughed at that, and she joined you, her fingers curling against your sleeve. “He just needs to find a reason to soften up.”

Two days later, you were sitting in Willam and Lin’s lavishly decorated living room, waiting for him to come downstairs and talk to you. It’s just curiosity. You looked around the room, eyes lingering on pictures of you with the two of them, reminders of memories you’d made together on vacations and at parties. I just want to know what this is about.

And when you found one that included Tovar, too, you lingered there, frowning slightly as you chewed on the inside of your lower lip. “Nobody should look that upset sitting in front of a Christmas tree.” William stepped into the room, holding two mugs in his hands. “Lin said you’d drink this.” He set one down in front of you and then sat on the chair next to the couch you were on. “Thank you for coming over.”

“No problem.” Sighing, you reached for the mug and lifted it to your lips. He did the same, and then for a few seconds, William just watched you, a thoughtful expression on his face. I don’t like that look. “What’s this about?”

“To make a long story short,” he started, one side of his mouth twisted upward into a smile. “Tovar and I have a client for almost the entire holiday season that needs … extra protection.” That wasn’t a shock; they were in private security, and commonly took on high profile clients. “She’s got her own team, but they want local backup. Tovar and I will provide that, but to do so, and to make it look less… well.” He rolled his eyes. “Less like she’s got a ton of people surrounding her at all times and more like he’s here celebrating the holiday, the plan is for us to attend the same events like we’re guests. That way we can be there if necessary.”

“Is Lin going with you?” He nodded. “Won’t you be distracted by her?”

“Yes and no.” He leaned in, linking his fingers together. “We’re supposed to blend in, but we’ll be connected to the main team at all times with earpieces.” He wet his lips. “Unless we’re actually needed, we’ve just got to be on-site.” It didn’t sound terrible, and you assumed that if the client was famous, the events would be fun - and probably have good food. “You would be there to keep him occupied. You’d be there to make it look like he wasn’t just hanging around and waiting for something terrible to happen.”

“As his date.” William nodded twice, eyes locked with yours. “Does he know about this?”

“Yes.” William blinked. “Lin suggested you last weekend as a joke, and he didn’t … he didn’t react the way that he has to other people’s names.” What? That made no sense to you. We’ve barely spoken. He’s never gone out of his way to talk to me. “It’s a paying job, of course. And it pays well, since it requires an NDA and multiple nights. I’ve drawn up the contract for you to take a look at. It’s standard, and what we’ve offered to other people in your position, but you can tell me what you think.”

He shuffled a few of the papers on the table in front of you and then pushed a small stack at you, gesturing with one hand. He had it waiting?

William stood, letting you know that he’d give you a few minutes to read over it in case you had any questions, and then left you alone in the room. “What the fuck?” You stared at the tree for a few seconds, thinking… and then picked up the contract and began to read.

When William came back into the room about fifteen minutes later, you’d pulled a pen from your bag and made notes on the papers, crossing things out and jotting down a few ideas. “I see you’re making changes.” He laughed, settling back into the chair. “Does that mean you’re interested?”

“Only if they can be accommodated.” You handed over the contract and leaned back, taking a deep breath. “The timing of the events means I wouldn’t have to miss work to attend them, so there aren’t lost wages to make up for.” He nodded. “I’ll sign the NDA, but there’s no way I can accept the amount in there. That would make me feel like you were paying me to spend time with Tovar, and I don’t like the implication of that.”

William raised his head to look at you and you were surprised to see an alarmed glint in his eyes. “That’s not what it is. You’d be paid for spending part of your day working, not just for -”

“I’ll accept payment in the amount of whatever costs I accrue for the job.” You held up a finger. “Clothes, shoes, transportation, if I needed to get my hair done or anything like that. If I had to make a donation to get into the party, I assume that it’d be a substantial amount that I’d rather not be out, but …” You swallowed, thinking of Tovar’s dark eyes. “Spending time with him isn’t something you need to pay me for, William. My pay can be TBD based on what I have to spend in order to meet the parameters of the job.”

“Of course.” He kept looking through, and then laughed when he got to the end, where you’d scribbled a longer note. “Unfortunately I don’t think I can meet that request. You’d have to talk to Tovar about that.”

“I know. It’s just …” You looked down, picking at the cushion of the couch with one hand. “I just don’t know how we’re supposed to play it off like we’re dating if he won’t speak to me, William. I can only pretend so much when the other person acts like they’d rather be anywhere else.”

“I’ve offered this job to two women already.” He set the papers down and reached up to rub at his jawline. “And they’ve both said no, because the amount I offered wasn’t worth it to have to deal with his moods.” He cocked his head to the side. “And you … are offering to do it for less, but only if I can promise he won’t scowl the entire time.”

“I am.” You gestured to the one of the pictures of the three of them. “There’s got to be more to him than that. I can see it in pictures and I’ve heard him laugh, William. I know it’s in there. Maybe it just needs an opportunity to come out.”

“It does.” He leaned forward, reaching out to set a hand on your knee. “He’s my best friend, and he’s been through a lot. I don’t blame him for a lot of his behavior, and I don’t think others would if he let them get to know him.” William sighed. “I’ll make the changes you’ve requested, and email you the new one to sign virtually. The NDAs will be signed as soon as the client gets here. But… how would you feel about meeting with us and Tovar for dinner?”

“Why?” William raised both eyebrows, staring at you. “When?”

“Tomorrow? We’ve got plans already, and you’re more than welcome to come.”

There was no reason for you to say no. You’d have to spend at least three nights with him throughout the course of the contract, and starting early - on a night with nothing to lose - would possibly help the two of you become more comfortable around each other. And I’d like that. “What time and where?”

“I’ll have Lin text you.” He leaned back, tapping his fingers on the arm of the chair. “Excellent.”

“Wait. William.” You released a slow breath, closing your eyes. “Maybe we shouldn’t tell him that you’ve already asked me. You know I said yes. But I think … it might be better if it seems like it’s a spur of the moment thing. That way I can see if … how he reacts when I’m right there.” He watched you for a few seconds, and you saw him narrow his eyes, lips turned down into a slight frown.

“That might be a good idea.” He cleared his throat. “Ok. That’s what we’ll do.”

The restaurant that you met them at the following day was nothing special; just a local place that had - according to almost everyone that had eaten them - the best chicken wings in the city, and some of the coldest beer to go with them.

But when you pulled the door open to step inside, you learned something else: they’d turned the interior into a winter wonderland for the holiday, complete with fake snow and hundreds of twinkling lights hanging from almost every available surface. Oh, he’s going to hate this.

You found the table immediately, and were thankful to see that Lin and William were sitting across from each other, leaving the other two seats at the table open. She waved you over, and when you lowered yourself into the chair beside her, she reached over to squeeze your hand, giggling as she did. “I thought you weren’t going to come.”

“I said I’d be here.” You said hello to William, too, and then gestured to the empty chair next to him. “Where’s -”

“He got a phone call.” William rolled his eyes. “He went to take it in his car.” It gave you a few minutes to prepare for Tovar’s entrance, and as you and the Garins looked over the menu and made small talk, you were thankful for it.

The truth was that Tovar’s behavior toward you had always bothered you.

Not because it made you angry, but because it was frustrating. You’d never given him any reason to avoid you, and had been nothing but nice to him since the first day you’d met. You understood that it wasn’t just you; he took a long time to warm up - even slightly - to anyone. While his personality was likely beneficial to the work he did, giving clients reassurance that he was focused on the job and didn’t allow distractions, it wasn’t as helpful in everyday life. And it can’t be good for his love life.

So when you knew that the two of you would be somewhere together, you needed time to prepare, because you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing that it bothered you that he didn’t ever give you a chance. You didn’t expect to become best friends, but it would have been nice to be able to hold an actual conversation with him that didn’t feel like pulling teeth to get responses.

You felt him before you saw him, his presence almost imposing as he approached the table and walked next to you to reach his seat. Even though William was still talking, your attention shifted.

He wasn’t scowling when he dropped into the chair, but his face was impassive, his dark eyes darting around the room before they landed on your face - and then kept moving. “Phone call go alright, Tovar?”

“Yes.” He nodded, shrugging a shoulder at William. “Just business. They wanted to talk about the new client.”

William hummed but didn’t say anything else, instead reaching for the menu in front of him and opening it. To your surprise, Tovar pushed one of the two laminated pieces of paper toward you before picking his own up, though he didn’t make eye contact again. You felt Lin’s foot knock into yours and fought back the roll of your eyes - but the truth was that the single, simple gesture was enough to make you think back to what both she and William had said earlier. Maybe he doesn’t hate me.

After the waitress took your order and brought out a round of drinks, conversation began again. At least for three of us. Tovar silently watched the rest of you talk to each other, two fingers tapping against the tabletop. There were a few moments where it seemed like he wanted to interject, but it wasn’t until Lin spoke to him directly that you heard his voice again.

“Did you find anyone to come to the party with you, Tovar?” She rested her chin on her hand, her attention fully on him. “William said -”

“No.” He sipped his drink, brow furrowed. “I am going alone.” He spoke with an accent, each word punctuated with purpose. “Maybe I will be a third wheel for you two.” Did he make a joke? You couldn’t believe it, but when Pero continued speaking, you felt your eyes widen. He did. “I can spike the punch, or -”

“You know, there’s an obvious solution to you taking a date. We talked about it last weekend.” William turned slightly in his seat, gesturing at you with one hand. “I think all you’d have to do is ask.” The shift in conversation took you by surprise, but you figured there was no point in putting it off. Here goes nothing.

“You do realize I’m right here, William?” He winked at you and then laughed, holding both hands out. “Is there a party I don’t know about, Tovar?” When you said his name, his gaze shifted to you, and instead of looking away immediately, he maintained eye contact. Oh. “Don’t let him put you on the spot.” Smiling at him, you reached for your cup again. “But -”

“For work.” He nodded once, and you caught the tightening in his jaw. “The client I mentioned earlier.” It was a start - full sentences were a change of pace, and you felt a shiver of excitement at the way he was looking at you; like he was actually seeing you for the first time. “William and Lin want me to take someone, but I have found no one to ask.”

You focused on his lips as he spoke, the sound of his voice soothing. You liked hearing it - liked the cadence of it, and the sincerity in his tone. Maybe it’s a good thing he’s never talked to me before. “When is it?”

“Christmas Eve.” Lin cut in, resting her hand on your arm. “And it’s really fancy. But there’s other stuff before then, too. The client they’re talking about, she -”

“She cannot know.” Tovar leaned forward, eyes narrowed. “The more details we give, the more dangerous it -”

“She’s not dangerous.” Lin exhaled, waving one hand. “And if she goes with you, she’s going to need to know something.”

“No one’s asked me to go anywhere.” You spoke quietly, looking between the two of them. “But I don’t have plans on Christmas Eve.” You cocked your head to the right, attention back on Tovar. “So maybe I could fourth wheel.” Lin laughed again, but neither Tovar or William spoke up.

You’d done your part - admitting in a roundabout way that you were open to acting as his date… and it was up to him to decide whether or not he wanted to act on it. If he didn’t, William would have to go over his head and force the situation, and that was the last thing you wanted. Giving him an option was one thing, but making a choice for Tovar? He’d never speak to me again after that.

The thought made you uncomfortable, and you hoped that none of them could tell.

Luckily for you, the food arrived then, giving all four of you a distraction - and William another opportunity to tease Tovar about the amount of wings in front of him.

“What? I am hungry.” He huffed. “It is not my fault that you didn’t order as many.” That made you chuckle, and you caught the way he looked back at you briefly before you dropped your eyes to your own plate, lips pressed together. “And just so all of you know… I don’t share.”

You laughed out loud then, looking up and meeting his eyes - and if you weren’t mistaken, you saw the most fleeting hint of a smile on his lips before he reached into the basket, picking up his first piece of chicken.

Maybe there’s hope for this yet.

All of you walked out into the parking lot together, William and Lin holding hands and you and the other man on either side of them. They veered off to the left after saying goodbye, William catching your eye and mouthing good luck before he turned away… which left you and Tovar alone.

“I’m parked over that way.” You pointed. “So it -”

“I am too.” He gestured with one hand. “We’ll walk together.” It wasn’t much, but it was a start, and even though neither of you said anything as you approached your car, you noticed that he stayed closer to you than he had been before. “This is your car?” He stopped and pointed. “I remember it from William’s.”

It stunned you that he’d paid enough attention to what you drove to remember which one was yours in the full lot, but you murmured in agreement, turning so that you could lean against the back end of it. “It is, yeah.” You eyed him, watching as Tovar stuffed his hands into the pockets of his dark gray coat, the ends of his hair blowing slightly in the breeze. “Have a good night, Tovar. Dri-”

“Did you mean it?” He shifted from one foot to the other, eyes narrowing. “About going to the party?”

“I did.” You nodded along with your words. “Lin mentioned it to me the other day while we were shopping, she seems excited.”

“You would go with me?” He inhaled, holding his breath. “And stay with me at the party, like we were -”

“On a date?” You pressed your lips together, watching as he gave a single nod. This is hard for him. “I would. I know it wouldn’t be a real date, but… we could pull it off, Tovar. Especially if you had to do it for work.”

“There…” He cleared his throat. “There are two other events that I need to be at, too. Would… could you …” He looked down and then away, turning his head to give you a clear view of his profile. You stared at it, trying to memorize the slope of his nose and the line of his jaw, Tovar’s mouth set into a pensive pout. “Lin will be with William, and I am supposed to…” He looked back at you. “Having someone with me would be good.”

“Yes. On one condition.”

“Go on.” He inched closer, the surprise evident in his eyes. “Please.”

“I know you don’t like me much, Tovar, but … if we’re going to multiple places together, and we’re supposed to be together, I’ll need you to pretend like you want to be around me.” You gestured between you with one gloved hand. “This is the longest conversation we’ve ever had, and we met three years ago. I need more of this, and less of your two word responses and you looking like you want to snap at me.”

“You think I don’t…” He lowered his head and swore, pulling his hands free from his pockets. “Alright. I can do that.” He held out a hand, waiting for you to take it. His fingers closed around yours, Tovar sighing as you shook hands. “And you should call me Pero. Tovar is what William has always called me, but …” He squeezed your hand again and then released it. “That does not sound right for a date.”

You agreed - and wondered if he could see the surprise in your expression. No one called him by his first name; even Lin referred to him as Tovar. So I wonder why he’s … hmm. “Ok, Pero.” You bit your lip, watching as his cheek twitched at the sound of your voice. “What’s the first thing we need to be at?”

“There is a charity event next week.” He reached up, rubbing the back of his neck. “And then a concert the week after, and the party on Christmas Eve.” This is spread out, Jesus. “If you give me your phone number, I can send you more information.”

You agreed and he pulled out his phone, waiting for you to recite the number for him. You felt your phone vibrate a few seconds later as he confirmed that he’d sent you a message, and then Pero sighed, closing his eyes. “Will this make your job easier?”

“Yes.” He pressed his lips together. “And it will get William off my back, too.” You laughed, covering your mouth with one hand as you stared at him. Another joke? “It’s getting late. I should go.”

It really wasn’t, but you understood that he was trying to end the conversation gracefully, and so you let him, looking down at your bag and digging for your keys. “Goodnight, Pero.” Fingers wrapping around the metal, you raised your gaze again, meeting his eyes. “I’m looking forward to next week.”

That got you another smile, and it lingered for a few seconds before he cleared his throat and stepped back turning on one heel and heading further down the line of parked cars. He stopped when he was about ten feet away, looking back over his shoulder at you. “You’re wrong, by the way.” About what? He closed his eyes and straightened his shoulders before continuing. “It isn’t that I don’t like you, it’s… more complicated than that.”

It sucked the breath from you, and all you could do was stare at him. What? Luckily, Pero didn’t say anything else before he resumed the journey to his car, leaving you standing behind yours. What just happened?

You hurried to the door and then sat down, putting both hands onto the wheel after you started your car, fingers gripping it tightly. You had plenty of questions, and wondered if he’d actually answer any of them. I think he will. I think he… I think he does want to talk.

You hoped that you were right. Reaching for your phone, you typed out a quick text to William.

Send over the new contract. I’ll sign it. He asked me.

Whatever happened with Pero would likely test not only your patience, but your self control… and you couldn’t wait.

He texted you a few times throughout the following week, and while the messages weren’t quite friendly, they weren’t cold, either.

He filled you in on the events, even though the information that William sent over with the contact did, too.

The first one was casual, a charity fundraiser where the client would be in attendance and raising money for local organizations by hosting an auction and early dinner.

The second event, the concert, would require you to go to a meet and greet with Pero, that one held in the club level of the venue, followed by attending the actual show as part of the crowd.

The final event was a party on Christmas Eve, which was meant to welcome a mix of the people that the first two events set out to benefit, as well as higher-end donors and other people of the singer’s status.

Each of the events was highly publicized, and people in your city had been looking forward to them for weeks, along with the boom in business that people coming in for the events would bring. You felt a surge of pride in the center of your chest that William and Pero had been chosen to act as local security. Even though you knew there wasn’t a high chance of anything happening where they were needed, you were certain that they could meet the challenge if necessary.

But on the night before the fundraiser, you were anxious about the following day.

It wasn’t the event, or that you’d be in the presence of a celebrity for a few hours. It was that during those few hours, you’d be one on one with Pero Tovar, trying to pretend like you hadn’t just started speaking actual words to each other.

So before you could second guess yourself you picked up the phone and dialed his number, pressing the device against your ear as it rang. He answered almost immediately, tone clipped as he said your name. “You are calling to cancel.”

“No. I… what?” Inhaling through your nose, you whipped your head back and forth, even though he couldn’t see you. “No, I was calling to see if … if you wanted to meet up tonight for an hour so we could talk.”

“Talk? About what?”

“About some of the basic things we’d know if we were actually on a date tomorrow.” You bit the inside of your lip. “Nevermind. We’ll just do a crash course before we go in to the fundraiser. Have a -”

“I’ll pick you up.” He coughed, and your mouth dropped open in surprise. “Send me your address.”

You hung up moments later, typing out the information and pushing send. He replied that it would only take him about 20 minutes to get there, and you nearly dropped your phone. Oh, shit.

There was no time to get ready - no time to do anything more than brush your teeth and check your clothes to make sure that you looked presentable, and pull on a pair of thick socks before you shoved your feet into boots. He’d taken you by surprise with his suggestion, but you were excited for the opportunity. And if he suggested it, then it means he wants to talk.

Lights shining in your front window alerted you to Pero’s arrival, and after grabbing your wallet, keys, phone and a coat, you headed out to meet him, hurrying toward the passenger side of his car.

Before you could touch the handle, the door popped open, and when you pulled it further, you peered in in time to see him sit back up, his right hand returning to the steering wheel. “Hi, Pero.” Climbing in next to him, you turned your head to look at him. “Thank you for coming to get me.”

“Sure.” He nodded, putting the car into reverse once you’d buckled in. “Where would you like to go?” You thought for a few seconds and then decided, hoping it was a good choice.

“That 24 hour coffee shop would be good. There are tables and no one will bother us.”

He agreed with a nod of his head, and for the few minutes it took to get there, you and Pero sat in silence. He paid attention to the road and you paid attention to him, watching him out of the corner of your eye as he drove. There was plenty that you wanted to say, but you didn’t want to distract him; it was likely a huge step for him to have invited you out, and you figured he was focused. We’ll talk over coffee.

The parking lot was full, but he found a spot after only one circle through it. After crossing the parking lot to the entrance, you went to open the door. Pero inched forward and then reached past you, mumbling that he’d get it. Ok. That’s fine with me. You thanked him as you entered, going straight to the line to place your order.

It didn’t surprise you when Pero ordered a large black coffee, but it did surprise you when he paid for both of your drinks, passing over a handful of cash to the barista and telling him to keep the change.

And when you led him to a booth in the back, sinking down onto one of the plush cushions after taking your coat off, you waited until he was seated, too, to speak again. “Thank you. You didn’t have to -”

“We are supposed to be dating, right?” He blinked a few times, head shaking back and forth. “It’s just a coffee.”

He was right - technically - but it was also something that he hadn’t needed to do because that night wasn’t a date. “I don’t want to keep you out late, I just …”

“What do you want to know about me?” He wrapped both hands around his cup, and your eyes were drawn to them. Tiny scars criss-crossed his skin, the healed areas a slightly lighter shade than the rest of it. “Ask.”

“When is your birthday?” You led with something simple, taking a sip of your own drink. “What’s your favorite food? Where are you from? Do you like movies or TV, and if you do, what do you watch?” He seemed stunned by your questions, and you wondered what he thought you’d lead with. “We obviously aren’t going to be one of those PDA couples, but is it alright if I touch your hand or your arm or -”

“My birthday is in June. The 9th.” He narrowed his eyes. “I like all food, but if I had to choose a favorite, it would be sweet things.”

“Then why did you order your coffee black?” Pointing with one finger, you cut in. “You could have added sugar or caramel or -”

“Because I always do.” He looked down and then back at you. “I was born in Spain, but moved to the United States when I was very young. I don’t watch many movies, but when I do watch TV, I like shows about history.” He paused. “And home improvement.” You smiled at that admission, thinking of Pero doing construction or household maintenance. “I live in a small house a few minutes from Lin and William.”

“That’s good. It’s helpful.” You flattened one hand on the tabletop. “Would you like to know anything about me?”

“I already know some things.” His eyes flicked to the right and he lowered his shoulders, but when Pero looked back at you, you saw determination in them. “Would you like to know what I know?” Lips lifting into a smile, you gestured for him to continue - and he did.

Pero knew your birthday and your parents names. He knew where you worked and where you’d gone to school. He knew what shows you watched, what you liked to eat, and who your celebrity crush was. How? How could he possibly know this? “Did you talk to Lin? Did she -”

“No. You put too much information online.” He shrugged his shoulders. “I just typed your name and things came up.” The matter of fact way he spoke to you made you laugh, but as soon as the sound erupted from your lips, he flinched. Shit. “You laugh at me.”

“No, I just…” Sighing, you pinched the bridge of your nose. “Hearing it all laid out like that is … weird.” He spun the coffee cup between his hands, keeping his eyes on you. “It’s right, but it’s still…” You didn’t know how to explain it; the way he’d recited the facts to you, it just made you seem typical.

“Why did you agree to do this?” He finally took a drink of his coffee, tipping his head back slightly and giving you a glimpse of this throat as he swallowed. “To let me pretend with you?”

“Do you want me to be honest?” He agreed with a single yes, leaning back in his seat as he waited. Here goes nothing. “You’ve always been a mystery. We’ve been in the same place at the same time a lot since we first met, and I’ve always gotten the impression that you were just … uninterested in being friends.” He frowned, but didn’t interrupt. “I’ve tried. I don’t know if you realize it, but I’ve tried to talk to you. I’ve tried to get to know you, and you just…” Sliding your hand up and down your forearm, you finally looked away, staring at the table. “This seemed like an opportunity to make it happen. And that makes me sound like an asshole, but -”

“You are not an asshole. That would be me.” He cleared his throat and said your name, the frown gone from his face but replaced with concern. “Making friends is not easy for me, and so I made the choice to keep people away on purpose.” He gestured to his face, fingertips following the line of the scar that slashed across one side of it. “This makes it easier.”

“Pero, it -” You felt your chest constrict at the thought that he viewed his appearance as a reason - and a way - to further isolate himself. “If I had my way, we would have had this conversation a long time ago.”

“You did not ask.” He gestured to the scar again. “Everyone always asks. But even when we met for the first time, you didn’t mention it.”

“Because that’s rude.” Tilting your head to the side, you chewed on your lower lip. “If you wanted to tell me or anyone what the cause of it was, you would.” That took him by surprise, and you could tell by the widening of his eyes that he hadn’t expected any combination of those words to come out of your mouth. But it’s the truth. “I’d love to get to know you. And if I can do that and help you with a job, that’s even better.”

He stayed silent, turning his head toward the window. After a few seconds, you did the same. It was late but there were still people on the street, and since you’d gotten to the coffee shop, it started snowing. It wasn’t coming down hard; instead, the sky was spitting snow almost lazily, the flakes falling down to land on the existing piles from the previous snowfall. “Do you want to know why I said it was complicated the other night?”

“Yes.” The answer was automatic, and through his reflection in the glass you watched as he straightened up, shifting until he was facing forward again. What is he going to say? You turned back, too, waiting.

“It’s complicated because I want to know you. I have wanted to. But why would you want to know me?” He scoffed. “You know what I do for a living. What I have done, and how I have treated you. Every time you tried to talk to me, I had to force myself to remain quiet. If I answered you it would have encouraged you. If I encouraged you, it would be so much harder to -”

“Wait. Pero, wait.” Your heart racing, you leaned in. “Are you trying to tell me that this whole fucking time, you’ve been … you don’t hate me? You’re just … like this because you thought your interest had to stay one-sided?” It took a second but he nodded, the frown back. Oh, you silly man. You groaned and put both hands over your face before taking a deep breath. “Pero, I’m friends with William, too, and he does the same thing you do for work. Why would you think it’s any different?”

“Because I’m dangerous. William does not like to get his hands dirty. I don’t mind.” You believed him - or at least believed that he believed what he was saying. “People look at me, and they see…” He gestured to himself. “It frightens some of them. Others just stare. But I use that to my advantage.”

“Neither of those things apply to me.” It was your turn to frown. “Let me be very clear, Pero. I agreed to this, to help you, and expected nothing. I hoped, though, that at the very least, we’d come out of it friends.” His eyes were narrowed and he was scowling, but there was something new there, too, and it gave you courage to continue. “And I know that you do have to work while we’re at these events, but if … if you wanted to use them as actual dates? I wouldn’t… I wouldn’t say no.”

He blinked slowly, and the scowl morphed into a look of disbelief. “You wouldn’t?” Shaking your head, you waited, the moment stretching between you. If he denied you, you’d have to spend three nights with him knowing that you’d laid it out and he’d chosen to ignore your admission - and his own feelings. But if he agrees… “Give me your hand.” He flipped one of his over, holding it out to you, palm up.

It was the second time you’d touched him, but when you reached across the table and laid your fingers against his, you sucked in a breath. His hands were warm, and when Pero’s fingers curled around yours and pulled back toward himself, you looked up at his face. His lips were parted, and Pero was staring at your joined hands like he’d never seen anything like them before. “Pero?”

“You can hold my hand.” He squeezed your hand, nodding. “Tomorrow? We will be walking around a lot, and it might look … strange if we didn’t at some point.” That made sense to you, and you told him as much. “I also…” He groaned, his thumb rubbing against the outside of your pinky. “Since I have to be alert, it might be easier if I put my arm around your shoulders, or -”

You moved without letting him finish, pulling your hand free so that you could stand. He watched you intently, sitting up and leaning back against the booth. Is this a bad idea? Probably. Definitely.

You’d made progress with Pero in the previous few minutes, and your action had the potential to derail all of it. But when you sat next to him and turned your head, arching a brow, you were confident. “You can try it out now.” Something flashed in his eyes then, and for a split second, you thought he was going to say no.

Instead, Pero raised his arm and slipped it behind you and across the top of the booth. “You’re sure?”

“Yeah, Pero.” You held your breath but didn’t look away, and then his arm went around you for the first time, the weight of it heavy across your back. You didn’t know if he did it on purpose, but when his hand settled against your shoulder, fingers curling against it, he nudged you closer, your body pressed to his side. “See? That’s not so bad, is it?”

“Not at all.” It was the closest you’d ever been to him, and as you stared into Pero’s eyes, you realized that it would be easy to get used to being that close to him. “It has been a long time since…” He took a deep breath. “Since I have let myself touch someone like this.”

It seemed unbelievable to you that someone who looked like Pero could be successful at keeping someone determined away from him. But look at how he’s been with me. And if what he said was true - that he worked hard to make sure no one got close - you had to assume that his behavior toward you had been less overt than with others. Because I’m friends with Lin and William. He knew he wouldn’t be able to get rid of me easily.

“Can I ask you something?” It was voiced with reluctance, but the question was answered with a yes. Ok. Here goes nothing. Wetting your lips, you were emboldened by the way his eyes dropped to follow the movement of your tongue. “Why? Women like dangerous. They like dark, mysterious men. A lot of them like men they feel like they have to work on before they open up, and -”

“Is that what you are doing?” He leaned closer, searching your face and lowering his voice. “This because I am dark and mysterious? Because you want a challenge?”

“Not entirely.” You drew in a shaky breath, knowing that he was aware of the effect he had on you in such close proximity. “I’m doing it because I think you’re worth it. Lin and William wouldn’t be friends with you if you weren’t, and -”

“Liar.” He smiled then, the growl in his voice making you shiver. “You are one of those women that like to be challenged.”

You groaned at his words, jabbing your elbow into his side and scooting away. Pero’s hold on you loosened as you stood, putting a hand on your hip. “Fine. I admit it. But, if you’d said no to this, or if you’d said yes but just wanted to keep things professional and focused on work, I wouldn’t have fought you.” You paused and then winked, relishing in the way he inhaled sharply. Gotcha. “I can take no for an answer, but I’m glad it doesn’t seem like I’m going to have to.”

You sat again, reaching for your cup and taking a long sip. None of what had happened was expected - but things had gone much better than you’d anticipated. And that’s a good thing. Because now even if things are awkward, they’ll be awkward because we’re figuring it out, not because - “That is enough for tonight, I think.” He reached up, scratching the side of his head. “I have to meet the client tomorrow morning. Early. And then I have to come and pick you up, and -”

“Oh, you’re picking me up again?” He nodded, eyes locked with yours. “I thought I’d drive over myself, and -”

“No. We stay together.” His tone was firm. “The whole time.” Ok then.

Raising your cup and tipping it in his direction, you gave him a wide smile. “Sounds perfect to me, Pero.”

While you got ready the following day, you replayed the end of your coffee “date” with Pero over and over in your head.

You hadn’t stayed out much longer, but the drive back to your house wasn’t quiet. Instead, you talked the entire way. It was mostly about Lin and William, but it was still progress. And when he’d parked in your driveway, he’d paused before saying goodnight, followed by the sound of your name in a voice so low you barely heard it.

He’d reached for your hand, fingers curling around yours as he lifted it to press a kiss to your knuckles. That took you by surprise, but instead of voicing that surprise, you only bit down on your lip and squeezed his hand back before letting go and telling him to let you know when he was on the way the following day.

Compared to other first dates you’d been on, Pero’s behavior was tame.

He’d made no move to actually kiss you, hadn’t even suggested a physical attraction or a desire to stay close after you’d moved to sit next to him and essentially forced him to practice putting his arm around you.

But you went to bed feeling hopeful about the three dates you’d go on with him. You were interested in seeing if you could get him to open up more. You wanted more nights like the time you’d spent in the coffee shop with him, but with less distance between you.

You’d always been attracted to Pero, and his attitude hadn’t done what he’d likely hoped it would. Instead of scaring you off, it made you cautious about the way you approached him, but no less interested. You weren’t hung up on him, but there’d always been a part of you that wondered what would - or could - happen if he let you in even a little.

You’d asked Lin once during a girl’s night, the two of you wrapped in cozy blankets on her couch with snacks in front of you and a rom com playing on the TV, why he was so distant. She hadn’t been able to give you an answer, aside from “he does it to himself”, but you’d seen the way her lips twisted into a frown as she spoke, sadness flitting across her features. You were curious about Pero’s scar, as you imagined everyone was, simply because of its position on his face, and how deep it looked.

It wasn’t a lie that his demeanor was attractive to a lot of women; what you had lied about was the way you felt about it. He would be a challenge, no matter how you looked at it, but with anyone else, the amount of time and effort he’d put into trying to push you away would have been a total turnoff. But not with him.

After gathering your things, you headed into your living room, sitting on the couch and checking the time. You expected his text within the following few minutes, but since there was nothing else to do, you leaned back against the cushions and closed your eyes.

The event that day was the fundraiser, and with the advertising you’d seen for it over the previous few weeks, you knew it was going to be a lot. Pero and William’s client was a celebrity that also dabbled in singing, and the fundraiser featured items from throughout her career up for sale, along with opportunities to do things like attend premieres, have VIP at one of her future shows, and to meet - and spend time with - her and her costars on a set in the new year.

It would raise a lot of money, but it would also bring a lot of people into the area - and the need for updated security wasn’t a surprise to you. And they’re the best. They probably won’t be needed, but they’re the best.

Your phone vibrating startled you out of your thoughts, and after replying to Pero’s text - and confirmation that he’d be to you in under fifteen minutes - you stood and stretched, taking a deep breath. I can do this.

Putting your boots on, you moved toward the kitchen and pulled your coat from the hook by the door. “I want to do this.”

You didn’t give him a chance to get out after he parked. By the time he was reaching for his seatbelt, you were outside and almost to the passenger door.

“Why will you not let me meet you by the door?” You laughed at his scowl, and when you met his eyes, you saw that for the first time, there was no weight to it. This is good. “Is that not -”

“I’m not that old fashioned, Pero.” You buckled yourself in, adjusting the strap. “There’s no reason for you to get out of the car just to get right back in.”

“Women.” He grumbled out the word, shaking his head. “Maybe it’s better I do not try to date. You are confusing.” It made you giggle, something you rarely did, and the sound caught Pero’s attention, his dark head turning toward you before he could put the car in reverse.

“What?” You pressed your lips together. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“No reason.” He smiled then, the look in his eyes softening. “No reason at all.”

“Well that was a nightmare.” You and Pero were standing at one of the raised tables off to the side in the main exhibit room. “You have to do that every time you get a new client?”

“Most of the time it happens before they get here.” He gestured to you. “But because you are a new piece of the puzzle, it couldn’t be done early.” Thank you, William. “They just needed to make sure you weren’t dangerous.”

“Me?” You rolled your eyes and then let your gaze wander over the room as it filled. “I’m probably the least dangerous person in this room.”

“Not true.” He rested his elbows on the table, leaning closer. “There is more than one way to be dangerous.” You didn’t have time to question him about that, because the emcee stepped onto the stage and tapped the microphone at the podium.

“We’ll be starting the bidding in just a few minutes.” He pointed at the table set up along the far left wall. “For smaller items on that table, you can check in with one of my employees to place a bid.” He gestured to the empty space beside him, a pristine tablecloth draped over a second platform. “And for the more valuable things, those will be available here, one by one.” The crowd murmured in agreement, and you watched as Pero looked around the room, too.

He was alert, but in a way that still looked relaxed, and it was impressive. “I’m going to go and get something to drink, do you want anything?”

“No alcohol.” He looked back at you, shaking his head. “Not until later. Not until she is safely out of the building.” Agreeing, you left him to join the short line waiting for drinks. You hadn’t seen Lin yet, and wondered where she and Willaim were. Maybe back in the dressing rooms. That would make sense.

You waited in the line, listening to the way people around you were chattering. They seemed to be having a good time, and excited about the fact that they’d get to bid on the items - and be in the same room as a celebrity. You didn’t blame them, it was a neat opportunity, but truth be told, you were looking forward to the time with Pero more. Even if he’s working.

Carrying the drinks back to your table, you paused long enough to watch your date for a few seconds, relying on the people passing between you to keep you hidden. But when, moments after you stopped, his attention shifted and his eyes landed on you, you realized that there was no being stealthy when it came to him.

He raised a brow but didn’t look away. I should have known better. You smiled at him and then started moving again, weaving through the crowd until you were by his side. “Nonalcoholic beer.” You set the cup down, glancing over at him. “For both of us.”

He grumbled when he raised it to take a sip, and you watched his lip curled at the first taste of it. “People pay for this?”

“They do.” You swallowed your own drink, sighing. “So what do we do now? Do we have to bid? Should we walk around and look at the stuff for sale?”

“We do nothing.” He trailed a finger through some of the moisture on the table. “I stay alert. William and Lin are back with her right now, and when she comes out to talk to the crowd, then I move closer so that I can keep my eyes on her.”

“You said we stay together the whole time.” You frowned, elbowing him. “So that means I’m going with you when you get closer.” He was quiet for a few seconds, but then Pero’s shoulders relaxed and he lowered his head.

“I did say that.”

The first portion of the auction went smoothly, and just after they closed the bidding to give everyone a chance to get settled for the main segment, you saw William and Lin step out from a set of doors on the right, his arm around her waist.

“Look, there they -” You spoke up but were interrupted when Pero started talking, too, nodding his head.

“Yes, I see you. We will move to the other side of the room now.” He’s had an earpiece in. I didn’t even notice it.

That meant that William had been able to hear everything Pero had said to you - and likely most of what you’d said in return. You hadn’t had any deep conversations, but knowing that your privacy was limited changed things. So was he answering me with that in mind? Or was he … shit.

To your surprise, Pero reached over and took your hand, hesitating only slightly before sliding his fingers between yours so that you could press your palms together. We’re holding hands. Actually holding… wow. “We will move to the chairs on the left. William and Lin are staying on the right.” He squeezed. “Are you ready?”

You were, and as the two of you found a new place to sit, you paid close attention to the way he interacted with the people you passed. Pero didn’t speak to anyone but he looked at all of them, assessing the other attendees with practiced ease. You wondered what they were looking for - or if they expected there to be trouble.

Pero waited until you were seated to take his place next to you at the end of the row, and you were disappointed when he let go of your hand to do it. While everyone was getting settled, you took a deep breath and leaned over, turning your head to speak into his ear. He sat with the earpiece on the other side. “Is this as awful as you thought it’d be?” He stiffened, but there was a minute shake of his head before he turned in your direction.

“I never said it would be awful. Just … difficult.” He looked down, his eyes on your hands where they rested on your thighs. “And it has been.” You frowned, thinking, and opened your mouth to ask him how. “It is starting.” He pointed. “I have to pay attention now.” Pero reached into his pocket and handed you a slip of paper with a number printed on it. “In case you want to bid.”

“I’m not bidding on anything.” You took it, though, laughing quietly. “But -” But it will look less suspicious if we pretend. “Thank you.”

For the next thirty minutes, you watched as item after item was brought out onstage to cheers and applause. There were three autographed scripts, a tour-used microphone, some wardrobe and prop pieces, and a handful of signed items both by their client and her costars and band. It was an impressive assortment of memorabilia, and when each winner’s name was called, you felt how excited they were.

And when the auction shifted to the new items - the ones that would bring in the most money and had the most potential to cause trouble for Pero and William to step in and fix, you shifted slightly closer to him, your arm brushing against his.

He didn’t say anything, but a few minutes in, Pero reached over and brushed his knuckles over the back of your hand briefly - the contact taking you by surprise. It was a good sign, you thought, as you glanced over and saw his lips twitch. And that’s almost a smile, which is even better.

He stiffened slightly when the emcee announced a special guest to present the following few experiences, and even you felt your heart rate rise as the woman walked out onstage to a much louder chorus of cheers and applause.

She introduced herself and said hello to a few people in the crowd, but then got right down to business, slipping into the persona that you were familiar with based on seeing her performances and interviews.

You found yourself laughing along when she started the bidding on a visit to set, describing it as an opportunity to see her - and her castmates - make a mess out of their lines for the first dozen takes. And the laughter continued when she paused between items to tell a story about working on her first show, and how anxious she’d been, which turned out to be for nothing, because it had ended up being one of the smoothest filming experiences of her career.

There were a few tense moments toward the end of the auction when someone stood up and shouted over the rest of the crowd that they loved her, and you felt Pero stiffen again, his body angled slightly toward the sound. But as soon as she responded, telling the man that she loved him, too, and thanked him for coming, he sat back down and Pero relaxed against his chair, closing his eyes and inhaling deeply.

“We’re almost done, Pero. Couple more bids, and -”

“And then we can get out of here.” He sighed, nodding. “I know.”

The night had passed much more quickly than you’d anticipated, and you were sad that it was coming to an end. As soon as the hammer fell on the last auction item - and the grand total of winning bids flashed on a screen behind the podiums, everyone started cheering again. You risked a look over at Pero - and then another at William and Lin - and noted that while both men were watching the stage, Lin was watching you, her eyebrows raised and a knowing smile on her lips. I’m never going to hear the end of this.

The client was ushered offstage by a few men that you assumed were her personal security team, and once she was gone, Pero stood, reaching over to pull you to your feet. “Come on.” He tugged you toward the doors opposite the ones William and Lin had emerged from, and moments later, you were in the back hallways with the people behind the scenes. He kept holding your hand as you made your way back to the room you’d given the information for your background check in, fingers linked tightly together.

The two of you joined a small group of others in the security room, and watched on monitors as the client’s team navigated her out the back entrance and into a waiting car. The moment it pulled away, another with her small entourage following close behind it, Pero breathed out deeply, his hold on you relaxing. “Night one, done.”

It shocked you that they were getting paid to be bystanders, but part of you wondered if he and William preferred simple, safe jobs to the ones that required lengthy trips or the potential for danger. And so close to the holidays, he gets to stay home with Lin. “Do we need to meet with William before we leave, or -”

“No, I can take you home.” He flexed his fingers, his chin tilting downward as he realized you were still holding hands. Please don’t let go. Please don’t let go. He didn’t, pausing before he spoke again. “Thank you for -”

“Tovar.” William’s voice cut in, and you looked up in time to see him and Lin making their way through the room and toward you. “Good job tonight.” Pero nodded, immediately releasing your hand and crossing his arms, shoulders straight. “Lin and I are going to get something real to eat. Want to come?”

You wondered if it was purposeful - if William was inviting Pero to see if he’d say yes for just himself, or if he’d invite you to go along. “We drove together, so I hav…” Your stomach dropped at his response, and you knew there was no hiding the disappointment on your face or the way you flinched at his sudden change in demeanor. “No. That is not …” Pero turned his body so that he was facing you and took a deep breath. “Do you want to go and get food with them?”

“Yes. But only if -” His eyes widened and you watched his lips part, Pero clearly surprised by your reply. “Only if you want me to.”

“I want you to.”

Part 2 coming soon!

#pero tovar #pero tovar x reader #pero tovar x female reader #pero x reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal character #pero x female reader #the great wall #the great wall fic #pero tovar au #the great wall au #pero tovar masterlist #pedro pascal masterlist #christmas story #pero tovar is grumpy but there's so much more to him #he's difficult but he's also really fun to write

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trulybetty · 2 months ago

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no flights tonight | masterlist

pedro stories secret santa '24

pairing: modern day au!pero x reader warnings: 18+ overall & individual warnings on each chapter summary: with flights delayed due to the snow, and a wedding to attend, you find yourself stranded at the airport and with the last person you want to run into, your ex.

A/N: This is a special gift for @little-mrs-morales for the @pedrostories 2024 Secret Santa event! I hope you enjoy it ♥️

⇢ Part One ⇢ Part Two ⇢ Part Three ⇢ Part Four

#pero tovar fanfiction #pero tovar fanfic #pero tovar x f!reader #pero tovar x female reader #pero tovar x reader #pero tovar x you #pedro pascal character fanfic #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #pedrostoriesgift24 #pedrostories

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sirowsky-stories · 1 day ago

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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

#pero tovar fanfiction #pero tovar x female reader #pero x reader #the great wall fanfiction #the great wall modern au #the great wall au #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character fanfiction #au fic #valentine's day #happy valentine's day #valentines day fic #sirowsky stories

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missyorkswhore · 1 year ago

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Slooooow buuuuurn🔥

Ft.@umadosedepascal

#joel miller x female reader #pero tovar x f!reader #pero tovar #dave york #dieter bravo smut #pedro pascal smut #tim rockford x f!reader #dieter bravo x female reader #pedro pascal character fanfic #pedro x reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedropascaledit #pascalispunk #javier peña #pedro pascal fandom #pedrohub

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nerdieforpedro · 1 year ago

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For your satisfaction Señora

Part One: Do you know what you want Señora?

Modern day Pero Tovar x plus size female OC

Fanfiction 18+ read the warnings!

Masterlist / Pero Tovar Masterlist

Summary: Cereza has an issue with her husband. He is alive. She plans to ask Tovar to help her with this delicate issue. Tovar finds that this works in his favor.

Warnings: planning a murder (I don't recommend it), harassment (Tovar and his questions), masturbation (male and female solos), mentions of sex work, violence, intimidation, stalking/voyerism (Tovar be messy), dismemberment

Notes: I couldn't think of a good name for the Dame so it is what it is. Not sure how many parts this will be, maybe three? I have a new appreciation for Pero Tovar. Let's see it together. 😎

“You can have a night for free you know; you’ve worked with me long enough Cereza.”

“I know he won’t do a night for free, Dame Chanel please arrange it for me. It needs to be more of a client thing, as much as it can be.”

She sighed; she didn’t want to pay such an outrageous price for one night with the man, but she knew him well. He would not tell her what she needed to know otherwise. She knew about her husband’s cheating ways; she has for years. The issue was that apparently now he wanted to leave her, and she would have to pay alimony. Cereza knew she would not only have to pay to talk to the man who could solve her issue, she would have to pay him to solve the issue separately.

“I’m surprised he won’t entertain a conversation with you. You’re the only handler he prefers to get his jobs through. He normally berates the others or doesn’t answer their calls despite being highly requested.”

“The man wouldn’t need a handler if he knew how to speak to the clients himself, he has no filter and is much too blunt. How is it that he…” Cereza struggled to form the words, not all the jobs were assassinations, threats, or bodyguard work, some were from women who wanted an escort. She could not picture that barbarian of a man be accommodating toward any woman unless he was getting an obscene amount of money. Nothing else seemed to interest him save for a friend he had mentioned, never by name. He sounded like a decent sort, how did he ever get to know Tovar?

“It doesn’t matter, just please set it up Ma’am.” Cereza left the Dame’s office, she could get a meeting with him sure, but how exactly would she ask him, how could this be pulled off so she could be eliminated as a suspect? Once at her office she sighed, if he would just play his role and be a proper trophy husband, things would be fine. She was even getting to the point she was fine masturbating and getting herself off, but to know that man not only had the gall to cheat on her, but he was also getting her hard-earned money after continuing his ‘graphic design’ career where he only had a few jobs a month and those she had to push him to take instead of being around the house all day. It pissed her off to no end and that’s clearly motive.

“I should have never gotten married. I thought he understood what I needed. I just needed him to be there. He used to be.”

Tovar was a man about his money. Do not mess with his money, get in the way of him making money and damn sure do not try to take any of his money. He was not above killing, maiming, threatening, fucking and whatever else was required for him to maintain his secure condo and sizable bank account. He and his friend William had gotten into this jack of all trades work together early in their twenties, but now that Tovar was in his mid-forties, he had only slowed down a little. William on the other hand, limited his jobs to bodyguard work, escorts with no happy endings and an assassination here or there. Will had married, settled down and had children. Other people to provide and care for. Tovar was happy for his friend but never saw the point in sharing his wealth or investing in anyone other than himself. You couldn’t guarantee a return on another person. He had found that with most of his handlers, they were always trying to get him to network and talk to people, Tovar felt it was unnecessary.

The only handler that seemed to understand business was business was Cereza or ‘Señora’ (Ma’am) he often called her. He knew she was married given the ring on her finger but not much more then that. She did not waste his time, was straightforward and he appreciated that. No meeting after things were finished with clients or dinners where jobs were not discussed. It did cause him to wonder, why she had no pictures of her husband on anyone in her office, other handlers had at least a few. Was she an island like himself, adrift in life with no one tethering them to the mainland? After two months of working with her he decided to bring it up in one of the many conversations in Señora’s office:

“The target was eliminated easily. I brought the proof the client asked for.” Tovar placed a wooden box on Cereza’s desk. She looked up at him and reached into one of her desk drawers, pulling out blue nitrile gloves and donned them. She opened the box to see a man’s foot cut clean at the ankle, she picked it up and examined it. Setting it back down, she threw her gloves in the trash and used some hand sanitizer.

“I’ll take it from here. The requested item is in excellent condition. They’ll likely give you a bonus for that. That’s all Tovar.” She told him curtly. It was to dismiss him; she knew he didn’t like being in her office any more than he had to. Tovar nodded but did not leave, instead he was direct.

“Why don’t you have any pictures of anyone Señora? Like your husband.” He asked his head nodding in the direction of her left hand that wore her gold wedding ring. She used her thumb to roll it on her finger, her soft palms started to perspire. The woman studied his face, looking for any reason he may be asking this, there was none that she could see. His face remained the same as when he put the foot on her desk. A slight scowl but otherwise blank.

“It’s not like you to pry Tovar. What’s brought this about?” She asked confused. This was new. She did not like it. She had come to know what to expect from him, Tovar was predicable unlike her husband.

Tovar shrugged, “I was curious. Do you really have a husband? Do you like being called Señora? Is it a kink for you?” He asked, half-joking, though it may be why she did wear the ring. Women were slightly less likely to be pursed if there was a wedding ring.

Cereza rolled her eyes. Of course, he’s messing with her, this is a new angle though. Usually, he would ask why she always wears pants and never skirts, even when it’s warm. She had told him then it was because of her legs, though not in detail. It was true, but only because she didn’t feel like having her thighs rub together all day in and out of the office, plus she hadn’t really had any reason to wear dresses seeing that her husband didn’t care if she wore them or not. He was still meeting with his mistress. Why be uncomfortable for something that’s not going happen? “No, it is not a kink. Yes, I do have a husband. Please go Tovar.” She stood and walked to the door, opening it for him as she rubbed her temple, she felt a headache coming on.

“Señora, you seemed stressed. Maybe your esposo (husband) isn’t caring for you properly? Take something for that headache, would you? I’ll ask you again about you and your husband.” Tovar smiled, stopping to tap her shoulder being leaving. Cereza sat back down until her headache subsided slightly and she felt well enough to drink, she downed some ibuprofen she had in her desk and secured the foot in her office safe for delivery tomorrow. “Maybe he’s starting something because he wants a new handler, fine by me.”

In the subsequent months, Tovar would ask occasionally about Señora’s husband to which she would either ignore the questions completely or just tell Tovar that her husband is just fine. He was enjoying seeing her frustrated by his questions, she was normally stoic, so this was fun, having her slightly flustered to where he would only see. Tovar was an intelligent man despite most thinking he was the opposite given his imposing appearance. He was tall, had dark hair, cut close to his ears, the curls snaked near the tops of his ears. He had a scar over his left eye that divided that eyebrow in two. His jawline was peppered with a light beard that didn’t match the thick mustache under his nose. His face was normally neutral unless he was angry or annoyed. The assassin was enjoying himself, until one day she asked if he wanted a new handler.

“Wait, Señora what do you mean?” His eyes wide. Cereza shook her head and crossed her arms in front of her chest, they were waiting for their client to show up to a restaurant to discuss an escort job. The pair usually arrived ten minutes earlier to scope out the place and review the client’s file.

“After these next few jobs, I think you should have a new handler. One you can discuss matters with. I’m not one for discussing my personal life and you keep asking. I thought you told me you were business only.” Cerza reminded him. She wasn’t wrong, but he had been curious at first, just messing with her. But her responses became more defensive, and her frustration grew, and Tovar had noticed for the second week now she wasn’t wearing her ring. At times when they would discuss jobs, her mind wasn’t focused, she would lose track of what she was talking about and once called a client by the wrong name, the client didn’t hear her because they were too busy complaining about the person, they wanted Tovar to threaten but he noticed as he did most things with Señora. Her hair always in a tight bun at the back of her head, always pants never skirts or dresses. Tovar would give her calves some extra study in the off chance she wore capris, the were large and shapely like the rest of her. Normally in dark colors, almost always black from heat to toe. Small gold studs were in her ears to match the ring that she no longer wore. The only smile he ever saw from her was with a client, never toward him. Señora always frowned with him, even when he joked with her, he thought he may get a pity smile, but she wouldn’t give him that either.

“Señora, I’m actually worried. I was having a bit of fun with you before but these last few months you’ve been different. You also don’t wear your ring anymore.” Tovar took her hand and squeezed her ring finger to prove his point, then let go. “I will stop mentioning your husband, but I will not take another handler. You have adjusted to me, so I shall need to adjust to you.” He nodded and then put a fake smile on his face as he looked behind her. “It looks like our client is here.”

“So, it would seem. Fine, I’ll put it on hold for now.” She answered softly, the warmth of his hand was gone. When was the last time she was touched by a man? She was starved, that’s the only reason for that thought. The client was a woman in her mid-seventies. It turns out, she wanted Tovar to escort her to a black-tie charity event, fine, not like he hadn’t done it before. The client did ask about the happy ending service to which she was quote the price. The older woman looked at Cereza and asked in a hushed tone,

“How am I to know if what I pay for is gonna be any good? Have you slept with him? Do you know big he is below the belt and how well he uses it?” Señora’s entire face flushed, and she felt like she had been doused with hot sauce, her skin burned. She immediately looked at Tovar who had a shit eating grin on his face and took her hand again as he answered for his handler.

“I mean she does have to sample my work from time to time to make sure I’m good enough to be an escort right Señora?” He drew out the senora longer than it needed to be as his thumb ran across the back of her soft hand, pressing into it slightly. Cereza cleared her throat and nodded, pulled out of the trance that she was in.

“Y-Yes. I can guarantee that you will be fully satisfied Ma’am. He is rather generous with his partners and doesn’t stop until they reach completion. At least twice before the main event.” Cereza smiled back and Tovar as he raised an eyebrow, he released Señora’s hand and took both of the client’s hands. The older woman gasped and shook her head.

“I may just do the escort by itself. That actually sounds like too much. I got my hip replaced three years ago, or maybe so. Can I decide later?” The woman scanned Tovar up and down, she maybe should have listened to the doctor when he was talking all that nonsense about vitamin D and calcium.

Cerza shook her head and stated that things needed to be decided now so the client decided on just the escort and said she would revisit the happy ending another time when she felt up to it. The pair walked the woman to her car and Tovar did the same for Cerza. She went to open her door to which he sneered and opened it for her, he stood beside her car door and leaned in after she rolled her window down.

“You sold me pretty hard to that client. Is that what you like Señora? Twice before the main event? I’ll have to remember that.” He smirked. Cereza sighed.

“I thought you said you weren’t going to mention anything anymore.” She countered, picking up her phone to see a missed call from her husband. Further annoyed, she tossed it back in her purse. Tovar turned his head to the side.

“I didn’t mention your husband, only what you said to the client. I’m inferring that to mean he does not, especially the way you tossed your phone.” He pointed. “Maybe you should try me out. I make a point not to with those I work with, but I feel you’re different Señora. You need some tending to don’t you?” Cerza closed her eyes. She just needed to turn the keys, drive away, but here she was listening to this man propositioning her. Sure, all of the women who Tovar pleasured were paying for it and likely told him their preferences, but they were also starved for affection like her. It’s why they sought-out escorts, for the sex obviously but companionship as well, having someone warm next to you instead of a cold bed at home.

“No. It’s business, all business. You leave this shit right here. I may be…dammit.” She had almost told him in her frustration. The manipulative bastard was getting to her. She turned her keys and started her car. “Move Tovar. I need to sleep on it and decide if you’re going to have a new handler come tomorrow.” Tovar backed up and put his hands in his pockets still smiling, he knew she had thought about it and that’s why she got mad. He wasn’t getting a new handler tomorrow. Tovar then decided on a new project, he would back off his handler a bit, she did seem high-strung now. He needed to know why and for that, he would need to find out about her husband.

Cerza went home to a dark house. That man was out again, maybe with the mistress she knew of it could with someone else or he could be just out. It didn’t matter. Tonight made her angry in so many ways. Sure, they secured the client and Tovar would do his job as he always did fine. But why should she be annoyed at work and at home? At home she understood because her husband was MIA but at work as well? Where was she questioned about said husband all the time? And now this asshole had the stones to be asking about her preferences in bed? Had Cereza not been the one to set up the initial meeting with the client, she would have thought that Tovar had talk that old woman into bring up his performance.

Honestly…. She wearily removed her clothes, not caring that she was dropping them in her living room, fully naked and walking around her house. She had more time to do this since her husband was out and came to like it over the years. She chuckled thinking of the few times he had come home, and she was naked, and he averted his eyes, embarrassed. She asked him why he was embarrassed to look at his own wife, he used to be following her around the house, craving her, stalking her, but now…none of that. Instead, it was a man who she wasn’t sure if he was just mocking the frustration he read on her. The handler could never tell if Tovar was serious of not, part of his job was to act like he liked all those women, she could well be one more he was pretending with.

She looked down at her left hand, the first day she really had forgotten to wear it, she washed her hands after using the bathroom before driving into work. She removed it to dry under it lest it get itchy later in the day. It wasn’t until she had been at the office for a few hours that she noticed it wasn’t on. When she came home, it was on the bathroom counter. She put it on but then later took it off before getting in the shower and left it off. One day turned into three, that turned into a week, then two, why did he of all people have to notice?

“Well of course he would, I see him most days, unlike my own damn husband.”

Tovar followed Señora’s car to her home. He only noted one car, so he assumed her husband was likely not home. He thought it was odd and earlier she seemed pissed that her husband was calling her. It appeared their relationship was bad; he just didn’t know how poor it really was. He would come back another day, for now, he knew where she lived, he could look the rest up, however, he did not expect to see a naked woman in the living room. He was too far away to make out details thought he desperately wanted to, but he was sure it was Señora, he guessed she was just in her own head as she always was lately, stark naked with her hand on the window almost like she was trying to go through it. Her generous curves had always intrigued Tovar, she looked soft, but he knew he would be able to bend her, stretch her, run his hands over her soft belly, breasts, thighs, and arms, finally be able to hear her scream Tovar in a sensual manner and not an angry one. He found her sexy while she was fuming too though.

To have a woman like that so pissed that she wouldn’t answer the phone from her own husband, Tovar chuckled. He recalled a day when he was his way to her office, and he overheard a conversation between a male client and Señora. She was reviewing escorts for some holiday party and apparently none of the available women met his standards, though he stupidly told Señora that he would like to see her out of her suit and in a dress with his arm around her. He would pay the double what he planned to pay the escort. Tovar came closer to the door so intervene, but Señora had pulled a knife and was holding it to his throat, a red line dripped down his neck. The man left and later was rumored to have paid a large sum for improper conduct. Tovar had held onto the wall that day as he hardened from the sight. He needed to catch himself though, because after the man left, Señora wiped off her knife and turned to him, asking him if he was here for his next job.

Tovar might even be able to have her say his first name in exchange for tasting her wet core as he made her climax twice times before entering her to have her devour his cock.

“As the lady wants...” A zipper cut through the night air and the jangle of a belt buckle becoming undone as he removed his engorged member felt the chill of the air on it, he groaned as he watched her at the window. He wondered how many nights she stood at the window like that, would he be able to see her tomorrow if he came back? He spat in his hand and held his shaft, circling his thumb over the head of his cock. Tovar wondered how many times she was alone like this, without her husband. It seemed ridiculous leaving her alone, a soft sigh left his lips, leaning back into the driver’s seat as he looked up at her, when did this longing start exactly? Only when he started asking about her husband or prior to that? Maybe it was the affinity he felt toward her no-nonsense business sense. His hand began to work up and down, matching his thirst for her, “I could bury myself in you Señora, fuck, you wouldn’t be able to get rid of me…” He exhaled after another groan, biting his own lips as he felt himself start to let go, envisioning her body covered with a thin sheen of sweat below him. He would kiss her and wrap himself around her as he lay beside her, touching her shoulder and neck with his lips. He would finally take her hair out of the little bun she always wore, it would expand from their amorous pursuits and he run his fingers through her hair, feeling her simply breathe next to him as she slept. Tovar quickly grabbed a tissue out of the cup holder and gave himself half a dozen more pumps before releasing into the napkin. Peering back up at Señora’s home, he questioned if he was losing his mind. Smiling to himself, he knew that it was gone long ago, otherwise he wouldn’t be in such a hidden business that required go-betweens. Tovar knew he would have to approach this carefully. His hand would have to do outside of escort work, for now.

Señora was not aware Tovar saw her. She had absent-mindly gone to gaze at the moon. Feeling cold, she made her way up her shower and washed, using her favorite body was that smelled of vanilla figs. The last part of her night was to get out her wand and use it to stimulate herself though a disturbing trend was occurring, at least to her. It had been more difficult to climax on her own, so she began watching some porn, but it didn’t get her going, however, one of the nights shortly after telling Tovar against not to mention her husband, she said his name and felt a spark. She said it again and felt it a bit more.

“Damn Tovar, I can’t escape him even here…Ahh…” A moan left her as she thought of him, leaning over her desk, interrogating her about her husband. The image made her angry, but she started picturing him touching her hand, placing his hand on her forehead. He had large hands, calloused from bodyguard work and assassinations, but gentle with her.

“Señora, your husband no longer knows what you like. Tell me so I can do it for you. Tell me what you need.”

“Relax Señora, sit here on your desk. You’ll forget about everything. I’ll make sure of it.”

“How many fingers do you want Señora? You want me to cum on your face or breasts? Spread yourself for me. I want to see you unravel for me. Is your pussy as tight as your hair bun?”

Cerzea, fingers rolled her nipples and tugged on them while her thighs trapped the vibrating want between them, hips attempting to ride it, the wetter she became.

“Your husband can’t make you drip like this can he? Cry out my name and I’ll give you more Señora. I can bend you over the desk and fill you to the brim.”

Her moans became louder, bordering on screams, she said his name, “P-Pero…yes, fill me Pero. Spread me on…Ugh.. the desk and ruin my pussy…Pero…Pero please…Ahhh!!” Cereza screamed as her heat peaked, arching her back, the waves crashed over her as she continued to whisper his name.

“Pero…Pero…Pero, Pero.” She fell asleep across the bed, her headache non-existent, replaced with guilt for thinking Pero Tovar as she pleasured herself. Her hands covered her face, groaning at what she had done, again. She hated what she was doing, yet she hadn’t stopped these past months. Tonight, had made it worse, he actually said words similar to what she longed to hear in her office. For Tovar to ask her what she wanted and to give it to her without further questions or expectations.

“I’m going insane. Maybe I should fly away somewhere. I need to not see him. Maybe I can find Pero an overseas assignment.” Cereza paused. She just said his first name aloud. “It’s so loathsome. That man’s name should not be that cute.”

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Tag list (let me know if you want to be added):

@fhatbhabie @morallyinept @pedritapascal @pascalsanctuary @nissaimmortal @grogusmum @theywhowriteandknowthings @beefrobeefcal @goodwithcheese @iamasaddie @psychedelic-ink @modernperplexity @pamasaur @pedrodascal @marcus-is-my-muse @clawdee @mintypossum @trulybetty @perotovar @joelslegalwhre @josephquinnswhore @mandoisapunk @awilderi @deviinci @secretelephanttattoo @for-a-longlongtime @tessa-quayle @legendary-pink-dot @sin-djarin @maggiemayhemnj @rhoorl @magpiepillsjunior @intoanotherworld23

#fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #pero tovar #pero Tovar modern day #pero tovar x reader #pero tovar x you #pero Tovar x ofc #pero Tovar x plus size female #pero tovar smut #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro stories

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dino-fart · 2 years ago

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Getting back into the groove of things after being sick.

I've reblogged some writing prompts, send me some asks with the prompts and characters you want <3

#stephen strange x reader #doctor strange x reader #strange supreme x reader #namor x reader #sinister strange x reader #defender strange x reader #joel miller x you #pedro pascal character x reader #ghost x reader #bbc sherlock x reader #din dijarin x reader #bo katan x reader #pero tovar x reader #agent whiskey x female reader

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baronessvonglitter · 1 month ago

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I read so many fics over the holidays and found great new (well, new to me) authors. Starting next month I'll be doing monthly fic recs instead because whoa.. this is a lot ❤️

Please take time to read these stories, and others by these creative and beautiful people 💫 And mind the tags, as the majority of these blogs are 18+ and come with their own warnings.

dividers by @plum98 👑

Joel Miller

Borrowed Time by @aurorawritestoescape ~ Joel x f!reader

Darkest Desires by @myownwholewildworld ~ Boston QZ!Joel x f!reader.

Fade Into You by @probablyreadinsmut ~ Joel x Afab! Reader

Girl Dinner by @slimybeth69 ~ kidnapped!Joel x isolated&unhinged&potentially crazy!reader

A good grade by @itwasntimethatdidit40 ~ Perv Art Professor!Joel x afab!reader

Guilty Pleasure by @for-a-longlongtime ~ dbf!Joel x reader

A Hell of a Morning by @aurorawritestoescape ~ Stepdad!Joel x f!reader

It feels like hope by @itwasntimethatdidit40 ~ Hot Priest!Joel x f!reader

Lock the Gate by @almostfoxglove ~ Joel x f!reader

The Older One by @frannyzooey ~ Joel x f!reader

Overloaded by @katiexpunk ~ Joel and Tommy Miller X fem!Reader

Pregame Play by @joelmillerisapunk ~ Dbf!Joel x reader

Seeing Pink by @gutsby ~ Joel x Reader

Texas Red by @studioghibelli ~ Joel x reader

this one thing you did by @joelscruff ~ Joel x f!reader

Three Strikes by @maiamore ~ Joel x f!reader

Unwrapped by @sunshinehaze1 ~ Joel x f!reader (f. Marcus Acacius & Lucilla Aurelius)

The Warden by @arcanefox207 ~ GameWarden!Joel x F!Reader

you got me thinkin' nonsense by @joelmillerisapunk ~ Dbf!Joel x F!reader

Dave York

In Vino Veritas by @yxtkiwiyxt ~ dave x f!reader

The Lonely Space Between Floors by @morallyinept ~ Dave x F!Reader

One Day at a Time by @drewharrisonwriter ~ Dave x Female Reader

A Quiet Neighborhood by @itwasntimethatdidit40 ~ Dave x f!reader

The Road Not Taken by @guiltyasdave ~ Dave x f!reader

Under False Pretenses by @joelalorian ~ stepdad!dave x f!reader

Javier Pena

How could you love somebody like me? by @itwasntimethatdidit40 ~ f!reader x Javier

Lost and Found by @oliveksmoked ~ Javier x f!reader

A New Year's Distraction by @lotusbxtch ~ Javier + f!Reader

Pump by @morallyinept ~ Javier x GN!Reader

Marcus Pike

Merry Christmas, baby by @itwasntimethatdidit40 ~ Marcus P x f!reader

Sign Here, Please by @inept-the-magnificent ~ Marcus P X f!Reader

Dieter Bravo

A Better Man by @drewharrisonwriter ~ Dieter x reader

Din Djarin

Best Kept Secret by @lincolndjarin ~ bodyguard!din x princess!reader

Pero Tovar

Baron Tovar Takes a Wife by @604to647 ~ Bridgerton AU Regency!Pero x fem!reader

Confession by @sawymredfox ~ Pero x fem able-bodied reader

Marcus Acacius

Searching for the Stars Pt. 2 by @the-mandawhor1an ~ Marcus A x f!Reader

Frankie Morales

Extra cream and sugar by @itwasntimethatdidit40 ~ Frankie x f!reader

Multi/Other

Blackmail by @milla-frenchy ~ Javier Pena x fem reader x Joel Miller

Cosmic Love by @kedsandtubesocks ~ Marcus Acacius x F!Reader x Marcus Pike

Datura by @suzdin ~ Joel Miller x f!reader x Dave York

Don't say a word if this word is not "please" by @itwasntimethatdidit40 ~ General!Marcus Acacius X slave trader!Javier Peña

Fuckboy by @sizzlingcloudmentality ~ unnamed ppu character x f!reader

Paris, Texas by @almostempty ~ Joel Miller x Javier Pena x f!reader

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lotusbxtch · 8 days ago

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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

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#pedro pascal #pedro pascal smut #pero tovar #pedro pascal characters #the great wall #happy pedro hours #bouquetsofpedro challenge #pero tovar x reader #pero tovar x you

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sirowsky · 2 years ago

Text

@bilibiche Thank you for giving it a chance! This is one of the more fantastical stories I've written, but if you stick it out, the ending is really something.

I'd love to know what you think 🥰❤️

The Lonely Castle

My fifth fic, and I'm obviously still in the Pero Tovar pit. Welcome to the story! I hope you'll enjoy it, and that you'll let me know if you do, although I'll love you just for reading it :)

Chapter 1 – Strangers

Chapter Summary: As with most first chapters, this is an introduction to our two main characters, but it's still a pretty eventful start to this story. We kick off with a bear-attack, a death in the family and running from authorities!

Author's Note: I'm transferring some of the @'s from Driving Mr. Tovar, so just let me know if you want me to remove you from this.

Rating: Mature 18+ONLY Warnings: Blood, bear-attack, angst, loss, inaccurate history knowledge. Word Count: 7703 Masterlist (this story) Author's Masterlist

Her mother’s shoes could be heard long before she entered the back shed where her daughter was toiling away with today’s labour, despite the soft wet leaves that coated the damp soil. But only because it was a sound most familiar to the ears that it reached, much like she could always recognise her parent’s voices in a crowd.

“Ember?”

“Yes, mother?”

“I need more willow bark for your father. Will you go and get some for me?”

“I’m not done with the latest order. Aren’t they coming to collect it today?”

“They can collect tomorrow; your father’s medication is more important than coin.”

“It’s the Royal Guard…”

“I know. Please… Just get the bark, it’s a bad day for him. I will deal with the Guard.”

“Yes, mother.”

Ember left the shed moments later, having only picked up a knife and a basket. She headed into the woods, moving briskly because of the late hour, and the distance to walk down to the river. It was already midday, and she had an entire batch of arrows left to make for the Royal Guard, which wouldn’t have been a problem if she’d had all day to keep at it. But even if she rushed parts of it, this walk would take at least an hour, and that was time she just didn’t have to spare right now. Her mother was right, in some respects. Her father’s life was worth more than coin, of course it was. But without their income, they’d struggle to survive the harsh winter, and failing to complete an order in the agreed upon time, would not be seen with kind eyes by a customer like this, and that would scar their reputation as the finest fletchers in the land. Truthfully, it was her father’s reputation that was at stake. Ember had had an interest in her father’s craft ever since she was a child, and he’d been kind enough to teach her even though it was inappropriate, which was fortunate, because it wasn’t long until his hands had begun to bother him. Aches and pains that came and went, until they just didn’t go away any more. She had started helping him make the arrows that actually went to sale, before she was even fifteen years old, and it hadn’t taken long before her father simply couldn’t work anymore, leaving his daughter to take over his craft completely. And while a woman working with crafts was no strange thing, a woman making weapons most certainly was. Therefor, it was necessary for her father to pretend to have done the work, and take the credit, and for Ember to pretend that her living at home still, at the ripe old age of thirty-two, was due to the fact that she was the one that was ill. She didn’t mind, though. Her father was to be credited all the same, as he was the one that had taught her the skill so masterfully that she could pass it off as his own, and allow him to keep his good name from falling out of favour. Her own was already largely ruined, anyway. She was a spinster, and the town’s folk loved to tattle about her, whether she was close enough to hear or not. But she never responded to their attempts to insult or belittle her, and as a result, they had grown uncomfortable around her instead. An unnatural silence spread in the streets where she passed, as though a cloud followed her, forcing all sound to dampen, and this had of course led folks to re-name her amongst themselves. A name that was now so frequently used, and well known to the town, that she had even adapted it to be the name she gave when asked by strangers these days. It was only her parents that still called her Ember. Her father’s hands were not yet bad enough that he couldn’t mask his ails when needed, provided that the willow bark brew was always available to him, to ease his pain if necessary. If today was a bad day, then it was extra important that he had some relief, because if the Guard noticed him being unfit for labour, they would start asking questions to which the family had no satisfactory answers. So, Ember ran down to the river, slowing only to catch her breath when she drew near to it. She was no stranger to running, and her body was perhaps not shaped the way one would consider suitable for a woman, as her work required cutting down branches, and sometimes even climbing trees, among other things. And since her father was unable, it was also she who cut down the trees and chopped them into firewood. It was she who skilfully handled the bow she had made for herself to hunt, when their coin was low, while her mother tended to the garden and crops, and took care of the house, and made clothes for them all. It was a strange household indeed, where only the women worked, and it was fortunate that they had settled themselves outside of the town, and away from judgemental eyes. But the strangeness of their circumstances was no fault of her father’s, and she had no blame to lay on his shoulders. He was a

good man that took pride in the fact that his family was able to support themselves, even if he did feel useless most of the time. He had learned how to help where he could, and would assist his wife with the cooking, and keep her entertained by singing to her while she knitted or sewed in the evenings, which helped him feel as though he was at least contributing. She reached the river, and the abundance of willows that grew there, and set about cutting down branches and placing them in her basket. The bark would be stripped later, so that it would be fresh as it was placed in the pot for brewing. She was so focused on her task, that she forgot to maintain a vigil eye on her surroundings, and when she turned to place the last branch in the basket on the ground, letting the knife fall down with it, she found herself staring into the eyes of a large brown bear, about fifty yards away, and she froze. The animal was still, but there was something about its posture, and the way it looked at her, that was unsettling. It was a female, but it had no cubs that she could see, so there was no reason why it would consider her threatening out here in the open. Her heart pounded as she forced her gaze away from those brown eyes, and slowly started moving backwards. She’d encountered bears many times before, but never had a problem with them. For the most part, they would walk away, or merely stay still as she left them to their doings. But this one followed. For every step Ember took backwards, the bear took two towards her. There was no use in running, so she just stopped and kept staring at the ground, hoping that the bear would grow nervous and leave, but alas, fortune had decided to turn the other cheek, and the animal charged. Still, running would only entice the bear more, so she held her ground and waited for the impact, knowing it would hurt and that she might die from it, but seeing no other option. The small knife wasn’t enough to kill the beast, and more likely just trigger further anger and desire to protect itself, so she made no effort to reach for it. The bear did ram her, and the force that threw her backwards was tremendous, but aside from the pain of the impact, she wasn’t damaged. Although, she did have the wind knocked out of her, and was gasping for air when the animal returned to her, growling as it slowly approached. She tried to remain still but the need for air forced her up to sitting, and the bear didn’t like that. But the scream that filled the air when the animal’s paw ripped into the skin of her right thigh, was enough to drown out its own roar, and that seemed to frighten the bear. Suddenly uncertain, it backed away, and when the screaming sounded again, it finally ran off. The pain was unfathomable, so consuming that it even did something to her head, stripping her of thought and reason and filling her with a fear so powerful that it felt like rage, as it coursed through her. She could feel blood dripping down her leg as she rose to her feet and started running, ignoring the hellish burn from her waist all the way down to her ankle. Had her mind been working, she would’ve checked which direction she took, both to ensure that she was headed home, but also to avoid running into the bear again. Her mind wasn’t working, however, and she ran blindly into the wilderness, not knowing that she was in fact running away from all that was known to her, and it wasn’t until she reached a large lake, forcing her to stop, that her mind woke up again, and thoughts returned to her. She’d never seen this place before, and realised that she had no idea of where she was. But at least her head was working again, so she knew that no matter where she was, she couldn’t sort out how to get home without first tending to her wounds. The mad sprint through the rough terrain had left her right leg throbbing, and her heart was pounding so hard and fast that she feared it might burst. But she also feared that if she sat down now, she’d never get up again. The sun had gotten

low, so she needed to find shelter first of all, and as she looked around, a shape that wasn’t part of the terrain, caught her eye despite the early evening dusk. On a small island close to the edge of the lake, stood an old castle. It looked long since abandoned but still intact, so it should keep her safe until morning. The walk there was longer than it had first looked, and by the time she reached the partly broken bridge that connected the island to the mainland, she was struggling to stay on her feet, because the injured leg no longer took her weight. One section of the bridge was submerged, and the wood had grown slippery under the water, causing her to lose her footing. They were well into autumn now, so the water was icy cold against her warm skin when she fell into it, and she nearly lost her breath again with the shock of being fully engulfed by it. It did soothe the worst of the burning pain, though. Panting with the added effort and now shaking with cold, she got back up on her good leg, and was able to get herself across the bridge, through the wildly grown grass, and up the stone staircase to the door. It was made of thick wood, but old enough now to be completely dry and therefor not very heavy anymore. The hinges groaned with the lack of oiling, leaving metal scraping against metal, a sound surely loud enough to alert any other visitor to her presence. But none made themselves known to her as she preceded inside, even though she called out in greeting, so she inferred that the place was empty. She entered into a large room, with an old and cracked, but still sturdy, dining table taking up the centre. To the left was a small kitchen, to the right a staircase leading up into the next floor, and further into the dining room was the fireplace. She stood very still and listened closely for a moment, because she saw firewood that was much fresher than all the other wood in there, neatly stacked next to the stone opening. It was possible that it had been chopped some time ago, by another visitor that had merely used the castle as shelter, and left what wood they didn’t end up needing, for the next poor soul to use. But it was equally possible that someone had taken this run-down and abandoned place as their home, which would make Ember a trespasser. While she tried to think of what to do, her body succumbed to the weakness and cold, draining her last bit of strength and making her dizzy and faint, so she ignored the potential danger of an unfriendly occupant, and leaned heavily on the long table as she made her way to the stack. Her fingers shook badly when she tried to beat the two rocks together to create the spark that would light the fire, causing her to drop them several times, but she eventually managed it. She was so preoccupied with her task that she didn’t notice the figure moving through the ever-deepening shadows of the room, as the sun had now dipped below the horizon.

The man that had taken this castle for himself, had intended to chase the unwelcomed trespasser out, until he discovered her to be a woman, and thus less of a threat, prompting him to merely observe instead. It had been years since his last encounter with another human, and none of the fairer sex had crossed his path in the last year that he had still worked, so he would not deny himself the chance to at least look upon one such creature again. She was neither pale nor feeble, she didn’t whimper at the shivers that coursed through her, didn’t even grimace at the pain she must be in with how bad her limp was, nor stand frozen while waiting for another to aid her. This woman was not afraid of labour, or unaccustomed to the rougher sides of life. She was strong and able and entirely unlike any woman he had ever seen. And he’d seen some truly skilful and remarkable ones. A hint of worry creased his forehead as he saw the angry red blood that covered her lower right leg and boot, and the long tears in the skirt of her dress. Only a bear could have caused such damage, and he was impressed to think that any woman would stand up to such a beast to the point that it would leave her alive. He was not a heartless man, although his former profession would lead most to think so. He had little regard for those that had earned the bounties on their heads, upon which he’d made his coin, but he would never harm a good man, and sooner cut off his own hand then let it fall on a woman with the intent to harm. But, when this woman began to disrobe her soaked garments in order to warm herself, he left the deep shadows of the alcove in the six-foot-thick wall, where the little window sat, and quietly left the room. No woman should be looked at without her approval, and even if he should like to ask her for it, she would not take kindly to finding him sneaking through the shadows before announcing his presence. He knew nothing of her character, beyond what her appearance could reveal, so he didn’t know if this strange woman might be able to fend for herself (like Commander Lin and the other women on the wall), and if he might have to fight her if she decided that he’d been rude or improper. He had no desire to fight her, except possibly in the tussle between sheets, but that was not for him to decide. She didn’t notice him leave any more than she’d noticed him walk in, but if she decided to explore the next floor, he would have to chose more elaborate hiding spots.

She squirmed out of her cold dress and shoes, sitting in front of the fire in only her under-shirt, but she could see no other garments anywhere, so there was no other choice but to dry the clothes as quickly as possible and put them back on. She draped the dress over a chair and placed it, along with the boots, close to the fireplace, while she tried to keep only her damaged leg in contact with the cold floor, to keep the throbbing pain from worsening. Upon closer inspection, she discovered that the damage didn’t look quite as severe as it felt, but even though the cuts weren’t much deeper than the length of her thumbnail, they were still bleeding. She reached for the dress again. It was a simple brown peasant’s gown, made of wool, that her mother had made, but the tears in the side of the skirt were big enough to permanently ruin the garment, so it would be of no consequence if she tore it up even more. It was harder than the bear had made it appear, ripping wool that was so well woven, but a trip to the kitchen to look for a knife would’ve meant terrible pain, and she wasn’t sure if she even had the strength to get there in that moment. So, she toiled away with her fingers until they ached with the effort, but the result was good enough. She used the strips of fabric to make a bandage over the cuts, gritting her teeth and holding back growls of pain that threatened to rip through her throat when the exposed flesh met the rough material. But once it was done, her body was finally utterly spent, and she collapsed on the floor in front of the dying flames.

He snuck back downstairs a few hours later, just to make sure that the woman was still alive, and he was relieved to find her in some manner of clothing at least, even if it was only a white undershirt that left little to the imagination. He only glanced at her form, but clearly saw the bandages she’d managed to scrape together, and he knew right away that they wouldn’t be enough. Dirt would’ve gotten into those cuts on her journey there, and if her body couldn’t expel it, she would go sick with fever and might die despite her bravery. The foreigners at the wall had taught him about infection, and how to protect from it, so he knew that all it would take was some tree-sap, and clean dressings. He stood by the foot of the stairs for a moment, trying to ascertain if this unusual woman’s life was of any significance to him? If he should bother to help her at all, or merely wait for her to either die or leave? He didn’t concern himself with other people’s lives anymore, and there were reasons for that. He didn’t know this person, didn’t owe her his help or anything else for that matter. What manner of misfortune had led her here was of no interest to him, nor did he care to learn more about her beyond her being in his dwelling, because he had no desire to grow attached to anyone, and familiarity had a way of making one care, regardless of desire. But… As far as he knew, she was an innocent, and leaving her on the floor to die of cold or infection, like a useless animal, would be cruel. And while he could be cruel when it was needed, he had never liked to be. He was a hired sword, and little else, so he had grown accustomed to death and danger and hardship. But it had never been something he’d longed for, or relished in, like so many other men he’d encountered over the years. What he longed for, was peace. Not chasing coin, or sleeping out in the cold, or listening to men plead for their lives, or scream in pain. Not being hungry all the time. He didn’t have the patience needed to be a truly good hunter, and while he was excellent with his swords and knives, he was rubbish with a bow, so his hunting relied on getting close enough to his prey for a dagger to reach it, by the strength of his arm. And that was more difficult than it might sound. He sighed, realising the decision concerning the woman had already been made, and went back upstairs to retrieve his coat and a few other things he’d need to collect the sap.

When Ember woke up, the first thing she noticed was how warm she felt. She could no longer feel the cold hard floor, and no shivers rocked her body. The fire sparkled strong in front of her, and the pain in her leg had significantly lessened. But the most surprising discovery her sluggish and disoriented mind came to, was the fact that she wasn’t alone. There was a man watching her from the corner between the back wall and the fireplace. He looked tired and worn, but not so much from labour, even though he looked like a man that was good with his hands, and unafraid of using them. It seemed to be life itself that had brought the sadness to the lines around his eyes, and the indifferent set of his mouth. His hair and beard were long, obscuring his face to the point where she nearly missed the scar over his left eye. She had never seen a man that looked so cold and hard, and yet seemed so broken and delicate. There was something almost… beautiful… about him. Hidden away somewhere deep inside those dark brown eyes. He didn’t move or speak even though he clearly saw her looking at him, and he seemed like he was waiting for something. Slowly, her mind started to put the pieces together. He couldn’t have shown up here after her, because it had been dark when she fell asleep, and people here didn’t travel after dark. But also, because he just looked at home there. This man knew this castle, and everything in it. Everything except Ember. She sat up slowly.

“Please, forgive my trespass, sir. It wasn’t my intent, I swear.”

He didn’t move, just kept on watching her, and she couldn’t read his face well enough to know if he was just curious about her, of if he, like a hawk, was studying his prey. But the more time passed without him giving any response, the more she started reflecting on herself instead. And as she did, a few things became clear to her. Firstly, that she was lying on top of a bear-pelt that most certainly hadn’t been there before, which was why the floor no longer chilled her. Secondly, that her undressed body was covered by a wool blanket of fine quality, much too fine to belong to such a simple man, unless he was hiding here from a past that held more significance than ordinary men. And thirdly, that the bandages around her leg were made of something much softer than what she’d put there herself the previous evening. Meaning that this man must’ve changed them, which by extension meant that he’d seen and touched the exposed skin of her upper leg, with nothing to stop him from exploring further. Her expression must have given away her train of thought, because he finally shifted where he sat, suddenly looking uncertain and perhaps even apologetic, despite the deep scowl that his face appeared permanently trapped by.

“I touched only what was necessary to ensure your wounds would be clean and heal properly.”

“I could never know if you speak the truth, so why should I trust that you have?”

His face hardened, but not in a mean way, as far as she could tell. He seemed almost hurt by the mere suggestion of any indecency from his part.

“You’d do well not to question the conduct of the only person for leagues that can help you.”

“I have not asked for your help.”

“A bear’s claws are not clean. Without my help your leg would’ve been even worse now, and perhaps never healed.”

“And just what difference would that make to you?”

“None. Other than your dead body becoming my burden.”

“Well, I have no intention of dying, so you needn’t concern yourself with my body.”

“Are you always so ungrateful, miss?”

“I know nothing of your character, so why should I be grateful to a man that might have taken advantage of my helpless state, out here where there is none to stop you? Because I can hardly imagine that many women come this way, and a man starved is a man wanting enough to take even what has not been offered him.”

He couldn’t fault her thinking. She was right to be suspicious of a man like him, especially when she was in such a vulnerable position. But it still stung his heart to have his honour questioned in this manner. He took his eyes from hers and looked at the flames instead, trying to let their soft edges smooth away his irritation.

“I can’t prove that I have done nothing to defile you, but I give you my word that such a thing would offer me no pleasure. I may not be a good man, by any measure, and I have stolen things my life, I will not deny this. But people are not things, and I would never take from you what is not freely given. You may have no reason to believe me, but my words are true, all the same.”

He turned his gaze back to her, and she seemed somewhat less confrontational, though still guarded, as she rightly should be.

“Where are you from, miss? There are no towns near here, and no one ventures this far into the woods, through such difficult terrain, unless they’re forced to. I have not seen another soul in years.”

“I came from Boden, the small town on the road to Weston.”

“Boden? That’s leagues away… An entire day’s walk at a brisk pace, at least. You couldn’t have come from there on such a bad leg, unless you walked through the night.”

“No, actually, I ran. I encountered the bear yesterday at…”

She broke off when she realised that she’d left her house at noon, and arrived by the lake at sundown. Had she really been running for half a day? If so, the man was right, and the return journey would indeed take more than twice as long, particularly with a leg that would no longer bend properly as the swelling had set in.

“You ran on that leg? That is not possible.”

“I wasn’t in my right mind. I don’t remember much of the journey at all.”

He seemed to study her closely for a moment, but she couldn’t make out what he was thinking.

“Clearly not. But if you wish to get home today, you will need my help.”

She considered that. Did she really want the help of this strange man, living out here all alone, seemingly by choice, suggesting he was actually trying to keep away from people? She wasn’t sure if he was being intentionally gruff and unfriendly, because he was angry at her for some reason, or if he just wanted her to leave for the sake of his own comfort. He spoke with a strange accent she wasn’t familiar with, and there was a hard edge to his voice that revealed much of his inner harshness. It was a type of voice that she’d heard plenty of before, from soldiers and hunters of men, frequent customers of her craft, which led her to believe that this man was, or had been, a hired killer of some sort, and that maybe he’d exiled himself there, out of guilt. She had no desire to remain beyond necessity, regardless of his manners, because she was anxious to see her parents and know that they had been alright without her. She had slept away many times before, especially while hunting in the depth of winter, sometimes tracking for days before finding her prey, but those excursions had been planned, whereas this had been unexpected and chaotic. Her parents wouldn’t even know that she was still alive. The man did appear to be a genuine sort of person, though, and she was prepared to believe that he hadn’t touched her in any indecent manner. Her dress and shoes were dry now, and if he really was offering to help, she’d be happier to go home than remain in the castle with him for god knows how long, until she could move on her own.

“I apologise for my accusations regarding your manners, sir. I’d like to get home as soon as possible.”

“Then get dressed. I will help you, and we will both be free of each other.”

Without another word, he got up and went back upstairs to get a satchel and put together some things they might need along the way. Strange and unusual. This woman was nothing like anyone he’d ever met before, and he was unsure of whether he liked that or not. She was interesting, but also maddening, simply for the knowledge in his mind that he would never be able to fully understand such a creature. How could anyone hope to? What he did understand about her, was that she was brave, and very strong, clearly in both body and mind, and that was impressive for anyone not trained or hardened by combat, regardless of his overall comprehension of her. He returned to the dining room when he felt enough time had passed for her to get into her damaged dress, and he entered just in time to stop her from falling over a chair with her attempt to walk on her own, from the fireplace to the table. He managed to catch her before she hit the stone floor, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her into his chest to let his back take up her weight, rather than try and hold her upright with only his arms. A movement which brought her face to mere inches from his. She was half a head shorter than him, but with his head bent down, and hers looking up in surprise, it made no difference. Her eyes were brown too, but a light golden colour compared to his dark hue, and her hair was the same brown that he remembered seeing in the cups of the foreigners on the wall. A brew they called chá, made from leaves and herbs that coloured the water a deceptively dark brown, but which was much brighter when it left the darkness of the cup. Similarly, the woman’s hair looked dark in the shade, but much less so under the light of day. She was beautiful. Dangerously so.

“Did I not say you can’t walk alone?”

He pushed her back and shifted himself to her side so that he could lower her down onto a chair, but this didn’t sit well with her, and her face was a picture of annoyance when she responded.

“Did I somehow fail to make it clear to you that I’m not inclined to believe the words of strangers, upon no merit beyond their own assurances?”

He glared at her, but it wasn’t her insistence that he couldn’t be trusted which soured his temper, only her stubborn inclination to act without thinking. It would surely lead to further complications.

“It’s not my word you need to listen to, escéptico, only your own body. Now, can you wait for one moment without doing something rash, while I get some things from the kitchen which we will need for the walk? Or must I tie you to the chair?”

She gave him a positively murderous glare.

“I am not rash. And if you’re going to call me names, the town’s folk have already dubbed me in accordance with their perception, one which I’m sure you’d gladly agree with.”

Once she fell silent, she averted her gaze from him, as though she suddenly remembered that this was a topic she didn’t wish to pursue, so he left her side and went to the kitchen to pick up some fruits and dried meat for their journey. With the satchel slung to his right side, he lined his left side up to her right one, put her arm over his shoulders, and hoisted her up to standing, and without another word shared between them, they set off.

It was a clear and sunny day, and it had climbed high in the sky by the time they stopped for their first rest. Not yet noon, but close. By then, Ember was well and truly suffering. Her leg seemed to protest each movement even more than the previous, and although her grumpy companion was strong and sturdy enough to keep them both upright, she couldn’t just leave him to carry her, or he’d soon be spent, no matter how strong he was. He helped her to sit down on the trunk of a fallen tree, before reaching into his satchel for a bit of food and water, which he handed to her without so much as a sigh. To his credit, he hadn’t complained all that much, not in any language she understood, at least, despite what she was sure could only be a terrible strain on his body, and it wasn’t as though he actually had to do this. He could’ve just kicked her out, or let her stay at the castle, but ignored her. He could’ve chosen many different ways of either helping, hindering or simply abandoned her, but he’d chosen the path that was of greatest inconvenience to himself, which said a great deal about his character.

“How much further is it?”

“We’re not quite halfway yet. But we’re making good time, we should be there by nightfall. How is the leg?”

“Um… worse than I’m letting you see. But the bandage is holding up good.”

“If we had less of a distance to travel, I wouldn’t keep such a punishing pace, but we need to get there before dark. How did you manage to run this way on that leg?”

“I truly have no answer for you. Right now, each step is like a burning sword cutting in to me, and I struggle to believe that I could’ve just ignored that for half a day.”

“People are capable of many things that defy belief.”

Something dark crept into his voice as he said that, and she knew that he spoke from experience. She glanced at him, to find his face even harder than she’d seen it before, as though he was trying to expel some terrible memory by turning himself into stone. But he also seemed to be failing, because he looked more and more angry the more time passed, until he finally huffed and closed his eyes.

“What did you mean about the town’s folk and your name?”

She felt a rush of irritation course through her at his question, because surely, he knew that this was not a subject she enjoyed, or he would’ve asked back at the castle. Why would he suddenly care what names she carried? But his expression told her that this was not a planned question, and rather a blind grasp at something to change the subject of their conversation before his anger overtook him. His own less than elegant way of asking for help, and it wasn’t like she could refuse, what with how much he was helping her.

“I’m not... My life is not what any other person would call normal. People around me find me frightening because I don’t do what’s expected of me, so they make sure I know that I’m different and unwelcome in their presence. They call me Snow, because of how cold and silencing it is when it covers the ground, and how obnoxious it is to get rid of.”

He huffed a small laugh, but there wasn’t any real amusement in it.

“I might agree with the last part.”

She couldn’t really fault him for that. He hadn’t asked for her to stumble into his presence and claim his time and effort, in order to be free of her. Still, despite the multitude of times she’d heard it before, even from this stranger, it stung to hear that she was unwanted. They pressed on through the afternoon, at the same pace as before, both of them back to not speaking anymore, content to focus on their footing, until they passed the river bank where she’d met the bear, and found her basket and knife to have been picked up by someone.

“This is where it happened. The bear. We’re close now.”

He didn’t respond, beyond taking a firmer grip around her waist, and pressing on towards the town. But she recognised her surroundings now, and guided him to the outskirts of the settlement, where they reached a house in the woods which he presumed was her home. Darkness had just fallen, but light was shining from inside the cottage, and he felt the woman press forwards, eager to get home.

“Mother, father, I’m back!”

She called out before they reached the door, so her parents would know they weren’t thieves or thugs, and at once there was a ruffle from inside, followed closely by the door opening and a woman that could only be Snow’s mother, stepping aside to let them in. He helped her to the table in the kitchen, and set her down on a chair, while her mother fussed over her leg and tried to ask a dozen questions at once, which the younger woman did her best to answer shortly.

“When I found your things on the river bank… I thought someone had taken you…”

“I’m alright, mother. This kind man helped me get home. He’ll need a bed for the night, the journey is too far for him to turn back now.”

“Of course. I’ll find you some pelts and a blanket, sir.”

She disappeared into another room before he could even object, so he turned back to Snow.

“I can find my way in the dark, you don’t need to house me for the night.”

“Gruff as you are, unknown man, you have helped me when it served you no benefit to do so, and I would feel unjust to send you on your way without attempting to repay you. A night’s rest and fresh bread for your journey wouldn’t harm, would it?”

He hadn’t tasted bread in many years now, so that alone was enough to persuade him, but he was also getting curious about this family, now that he was there. No father or brother had come to great him, as was customary when a stranger walked in, and when the mother returned with the pelts and blanket, he noticed a worry on her face which seemed out of place for a woman that had just gotten her daughter back.

“Is there no man in this household?”

He was addressing the mother, but it was Snow who answered.

“There is, but he is ill.”

The mother arranged the bed for him on the wooden floor in front of the fireplace before she came to properly greet him.

“Forgive my manners, sir, I was very worried for my daughter. My name is Ethedred, and I welcome you to our house. And may I say thank you for any aid you’ve offered my daughter. She is… invaluable to this family.”

There was a nervousness to her that had nothing to do with Snow having been gone, or an unknown man standing in her kitchen. She was truly frightened about something, and trying very hard not to let her daughter see it. If the father was ill, that explained much about Snow’s circumstance. He guessed that in the absence of a son, she had become a replacement for her father, which would clarify her unusually strong body as well as why such a beauty was still unmarried.

“My name is Pero. And you’re welcome.”

He could see that she was curious about him, but in a strangely desperate kind of way, which puzzled him. There was something she wanted to ask him, but was too afraid to for now, so she turned her gaze away, and headed for the kitchen.

“You must both be starving, let me make you a late dinner before you go to bed.”

But Snow had noticed her mother’s strange and nervous behaviour by then, and it was making her increasingly anxious.

“Mother, look at me.”

Ethedred tried to ignore her, busying herself with preparing some vegetables.

“I know you; I know something’s wrong, just tell me. Did the Guard come to collect? Did something happen?”

The Guard? As in, the Royal Guard? What would they come to this house for? Her mother sighed heavily, and appeared to shrink before she turned to face her daughter, no longer making any effort to hold the mask of normalcy in place, revealing a torturous grief that was living in her heart.

“They came while I was out looking for you. Your father… he tried to explain, but they wouldn’t hear him.”

Her lower lip began to tremble, and tears suddenly spilled from her eyes.

“H-he was still alive when I got back… but…”

Snow slumped against the back of her chair, and Pero could see the pain and grief hit her like a falling tree. But her mother gave her no chance to let the pain take hold, before she crossed the room and kneeled in front of her child, fixing her with steely eyes, and a sudden harshness to her frame which could rival his own.

“You have to run. He told them enough to make them see that you’ve been helping in his deception, that we both have. And since neither of us were here, they’ll be back, they’ll come for us. I had hoped that this man could perhaps protect us, but not against the Royal Guard, that’s too much to ask.”

She got up, and came towards Pero, with the desperation and fear now on full display, nothing hidden or held back anymore.

“Please, sir… please, take her away.”

“Mother, no! I’m not leaving you here to be slaughtered by soldiers for no crime at all! We haven’t harmed or stolen from anyone, we’re good people, this is madness!”

But her mother kept staring at Pero, and he knew what it was she saw in him. The experience he had, the knowledge. He knew exactly what she was asking, and even though he’d come here only to rid himself of a disturbance to his life, he knew that she was right, and that he wouldn’t be leaving emptyhanded. He offered her one short nod of understanding, before he stepped over to Snow, and pulled her to her feet, despite her protests.

“No! What are you doing?! Mother!”

She tried to fight him, tried to claw her way free of his relentless hold on her waist as he dragged her to the door, but to no avail.

“Let go of me, I’m not going anywhere with you!”

But as he reached the door, Ethedred came to bid her daughter farewell, and he paused on the threshold as Snow stilled, and a tremble settled into her body with the burgeoning understanding that this was beyond her strength or skill to fix.

“Mother, please… come with me. If there’s no hope for us here, then let’s go together.”

“No. When the soldiers come, I’ll tell them the truth: that I was out yesterday looking for you, and found that you’d been attacked by a bear. I’ll tell them you disappeared, and that the beast must’ve taken you. My grief is real, they��ll believe me, and you’ll be free, my darling.”

“I’ll be alone… I have nothing but you, I’ve only ever had you and father.”

Ethedred once again turned to Pero.

“Promise me that you won’t abandon her. She’s not like other women, I know, but only because she’s better than them. She can cook, sew, clean, but also hunt, cut wood and make weapons. She’s the finest fletcher in the land, her father made sure of it. Promise me that she won’t be alone.”

She knew exactly how big of a promise she was asking of him, but she was a mother. She had to ask. He had no obligations to either of them, and none of this was his burden to bear. But he hadn’t hauled the woman several leagues’ throughs the woods, only to deliver her to her death. His was a solitary life by choice, and he had preferred to keep it such. But to his knowledge, the woman in his arms had done nothing to deserve a death-sentence, and even if he didn’t particularly care for her, there were few things he hated as severely as seeing women being punished, or treated badly, for no reason beyond their perceived inferiority.

“I promise. I will protect her with my life.”

Ember stared at him, and then at her mother once more, unable to believe her ears, and much to pained to speak another word.

“Goodbye, child. Don’t ever come back here. Now, go!”

She didn’t fight him anymore as he dragged her away, but she didn’t help him either. As though all reason for existing at all had suddenly vacated her body, she turned into a motionless statue in his arms, clinging to his shoulder as she tried to watch her mother until the trees swallowed the view, and the thick darkness of the forest engulfed the fleeing pair of misfits. And even though they both knew where they were headed, neither of them knew anything about what their lives would be from now on. Like a ship setting sail to the horizon, they were moving into the unknown, and the only thing they could say with any certainty, was that nothing would ever be the same.

***************

Link to Chapter 2

Thank you for reading, and have a wonderful day/night!

@sarahjkl82-blog @marydjarin @idreamofboobear @agingerindenial @tiffanyleen @hounding-around @tobealostwanderer @deadhumourist @toomanystoriessolittletime @tintinn16 @nolanell

#pero tovar fanfiction #pero tovar x ofc #pero tovar x female character #the great wall fic #pedro pascal characters

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something-tofightfor · 2 months ago

Text

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.”

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