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absurdthirst · 4 months

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A Marriage of Convenience {Regency!Pero Tovar x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 20.5k

Warnings: Dying parents, arranged marriages, mentions of dying in child birth, fear, anxiety, panic attacks, poor Pero has PTS, virgin reader, vaginal sex, oral sex (female receiving), conversations about birth control, mentions of spousal beatings, pregnancy, childbirth

Comments: When your dying father sends you to Spain to wed Don Tovar, you know nothing about the man besides that he is a widower with two small children who will never love you. Finding your place in his household will take a stiff spine and a loving heart, making peace with your marriage of convenience.

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

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|| MasterList || Pero Tovar MasterList ||

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

“Father, you cannot send me away.” You shake your head, dread welling in your stomach and you press your hand to the silken material of your day dress, the stays of your corset the only thing keeping you upright at this moment. Not that your stays are as tight as most of the noble ladies that come and go on the marriage mart. You have no desire to be married, to be chattel to a noble man and birth his children. Even though your father has just informed you that the man you are to marry already has children. A widower who is not so choosy as to a new wife that he is willing to take on an old maid who is nearly set upon the shelf and discarded at every social function during the season.

Pero Tovar is the name of the man you are to wed. Not only are you to be married off, but you will be shipped away from your home. Sent to Spain with no one that you know around you. Completely without allies and unable to easily go home if you are unhappy. Your father had met him in London and arranged your marriage before returning home to inform you. “Please.” You beg softly. “Do not make me marry a man I have never laid eyes on.”

“You have no choice. I am dying, daughter. You heard the doctor. I have months left. I do not wish to leave you without stability. The time has come for you to marry. I cannot allow you to delay it anymore. Tovar is a wealthy man. He has a large estate and two children from his late wife. He doesn’t need some young maid to birth children for his heir. He is stern but he has very strong morals. You’ll be safe with him and that’s all that matters. Please do not argue with a dying man.” Your father begs and you choke, tears stinging in your eyes as you embrace him and he rubs your back, knowing these moments before you go to Spain will be the last you spend together.

The day has come for you to leave your father, and despite your best efforts, you weep. Over the course of the month, he had grown more frail and could not even accompany you to Spain to see you wed in person. Embracing him in his sickbed, you know word would come that he had passed, your cousin inheriting the home you had grown up in, and all the wealth your father had accumulated. Your dowry is carefully packed into a large trunk, generous enough that if it had been known, several in London would have made you their wife. Instead, you will be Lady Tovar. “I love you.” You murmur, wishing you could stay until he had left this earth. “I love you father, I am sorry I was not the boy you wished to carry your legacy forward.”

Your father tuts, “don’t be silly, child. You are my life. After your mother died…you are everything to me. My world. I love you. If you could have everything, I’d give it to you.” He promises and cups your cheek, his hand shaking.

Your eyes sting with tears and you grip his hand, pressing a kiss to the back of it. “I know.” You promise, reluctantly pulling back.

“Go. Go live your life. Just promise me you’ll be happy.” He orders and you sniff, wiping your cheeks and you nod. It takes everything in you to leave his chambers but you do and you make your way down to the carriage to begin the start of a very long journey to Spain.

The trip to the ship takes nearly a week. A broken carriage wheel, a broken axle, and a thrown shoe from one of the horses. It seems as if the entire trip is cursed. You occupy yourself by writing letters and reading a few of the books you had packed into your reticule. Wondering if your father has passed already and praying that he has not. When you finally reach the ship, you sigh as you stare at the sails. Rather than just a short journey across the channel, it will be another week, sailing up the coast of Spain before you disembark. Your betrothed’s men should meet you there to carry you to his summer estate in the country.

When you step foot on land, you are relieved and exhausted, anxious and ready to be in your new home. Your husband to be doesn’t come to greet you, not that you expected that anyway but you are greeted by his secretary. “Señorita, I am Carlos. It’s a pleasure to meet you. Come this way, the carriage awaits us.” He says, gesturing to the horses behind him as the staff begins to gather your things to secure them for the final leg of your journey.

The carriage seems to be sturdy and soon you are pulling away. “Tell me about your lord.” You beg, having heard very little from your father beyond the rudimentary information. You want to know more about the man you are supposed to wed. “What is he like?” How a man treats his staff says a lot about him. That is what your father always told you.

Carlos looks at you, appraising you for a bit until he answers. “He is stern. Unforgiving but fair. He knows wrong from right and is only violent when the need occurs. He loved Maria, his first wife, but after she died, he has become a recluse. His children are cared for by the staff and he rarely interacts with them. If you want my honesty, señorita. The house needs life and love once again. It’s cold and lacking happiness.”

You bite your lip, repressing a small shiver. He sounds…..austere. Unyielding. You feel for the children who seem to have lost both their mother and father at the same time. “How old are the children?” You ask politely, aware that if he was not giving love and attention to his children, it would be your job. You remember how terribly you had missed your own mother, though your father had been your rock through grieving.

“They are five and seven. They do not remember their mother. Both too young. Luis - the youngest - was the child born when Maria lost her life. She doesn’t remember her mother. Alejandra, she - she doesn’t remember her either. They are - needing love and attention as all children do and their father - he is a busy man. That’s why he wanted a wife who was capable of nurturing his children when he is unable to.” Carlos explains and you glance out of the carriage as the Spanish port city turns to countryside.

“I see.” You wonder if the children are too painful a reminder of his late wife. If that was the reason he could not be around them. “And his holdings?” You ask. “He is a lord, is he busy with his lands?”

Carlos nods and sighs. “My lord works long hours to make sure that the estates and the lands that are used by his people are properly maintained.” He tells you, making you feel a bit better about the situation.

“Then I will make sure that he has a comfortable home and well behaved children to come home to.” You promise.

Carlos nods, appreciating your compliance and he watches you as you look back out of the window. You are beautiful, have an air of maturity the other girls, the local ones, had lacked. His lord has been searching for a wife for a while, but no one has fit his criteria. He doesn’t want a simpering girl who wants romance, he needs a partner who can assist him with his home and his children. Carlos knows that Pero’s heart is cold, iced over after the death of Maria and he doesn’t know if anyone can melt it.

The good thing about you is that you know that love and romance are not expected, nor required in most marriages. You aren’t a starry eyed little girl who will wish that her husband falls desperately in love with her. From everything you are hearing, that would be quite impossible. You will settle for mutual respect. The rest of the journey is spent quietly thinking, making plans for your new home that could be tossed out the window the moment you arrive. You do not even know if your future husband will be there to greet you.

When you pull up outside of the summer home of Don Pero Tovar, it’s beautiful and instantly takes your breath away. It’s picturesque and grand but when you have a closer look, you can see the cracks, the work that needs to be done. The shutters are crooked and need new paint. The flowers are gone and the paint is peeling everywhere. “Oh. I- it’s beautiful but-” You start and Carlos finishes your statement, “it needs work. After Señora Maria died, Don Tovar just let the place go, too preoccupied to maintain it.”

You nod, understanding that he might not have had the heart to continue to look after the details that make his estate a home for his family. “Then I will hire workers to restore his home to its former glory.” You decide with a smile, eager to get to work and contribute.

Carlos hums as the carriage comes to a stop, “if he allows it. He - it’s - it’s almost like he is stuck in the past, never moving forward.” His eyes widen and he shakes his head, “please señorita, don’t - he mustn’t know I said that.” He murmurs and you nod, “it’s our secret.” The secretary exhales and reaches out to open the door to the carriage, stepping out and holding out his hand to assist you down.

There is no staff lined up to greet you. No betrothed waiting at the door to introduce you to his household. The pots next to the large double doors of the house are empty, filled with dirt and sticks. Providing an unwelcoming air and you try to think of it as some kind of omen. “Well, it is late.” You excuse, biting your lip as you look around.

Carlos looks guilty as he opens the door to guide you inside to find the housekeeper, Señora Garcia. “Come, let’s take you to your quarters and we shall start fresh in the morning, you have had a long journey and I’m sure you’d rather meet everyone after resting.” Carlos says and Señora Garcia nods, “also, your lady’s maid, Carmen, will be waiting in your room to help you prepare for tonight. We will bring dinner to your room.”

You tilt your head. “Prepare for tonight?” You ask, confused by what he means. “What is happening tonight?” Surely he does not mean that Lord or Don Tovar meant to wed you tonight after you’ve only just arrived? You have not even met the man, you had hoped to have a conversation before he becomes your husband.

“The wedding.” Carlos says like you should’ve known. “Did no one inform you that Don Tovar wanted to be married as soon as you arrived?” You shake your head and Carlos sighs. “You are to be married tonight. Carmen will help you dress and we will bring your trunks up to your quarters. The wedding will be at eight. We will bring food to your room beforehand and a bath. You’ll be the lady of the house tonight.”

Closing your eyes, you try to suppress the tremble that races through you. Stiffening your spine and taking a breath before you open your eyes and nod. “I will be ready when Don Tovar says.” You agree, making Carlos nod in approval. “I would also like a cup of tea to be brought up, right away.”

Carlos nods, “sí, señorita. I’ll make sure you get your tea.” He assures you and you sigh, following Señora Garcia up the stairs to your quarters. The house is dark and damp and there seems to be no sign of life anywhere. You immediately feel alone and cold, regretting leaving your home, your dying father for this pitiful estate.

****

By the time your tea arrives, it’s accompanied by your meal. Cold and unappetizing, you wonder why the cook would send you a plate such as this. Investigating your room, you find that it has not been properly aired out, dust still sitting on the window sills and the candle holders not refreshed with new candles. It seems as if you are to be un-welcomed or the staff who works here is completely unskilled in how to run a house.

“Señorita, bienvenidos.” Carmen says as she walks in, “I am sorry I am late. I am your lady’s maid and I am here to assist you with getting you ready for your wedding to Don Tovar. Was your dinner acceptable, señorita?” She asks and notices your frown, “what is wrong?” She prompts, wanting to be there for the soon to be lady of the house.

“The meal was cold,” You explain, understanding that she is not to blame for that. “As was my tea.” You tilt your head and look at the lovely young woman. “Have you worked for the household for long?” You ask. “Is this how meals are normally delivered?” If it is some kind of custom, you would try to be more understanding, but you don’t think that it is.

Carmen shakes her head, “absolutely not. I- you shouldn’t have had a cold meal and cold tea. Please, señorita, let me get you a new, hot -”

You interrupt her, “no. It’s not - I’ve eaten it now and I do not have time to waste. I need to bathe and get ready for my future husband.” You inform her and she nods, “I will go fetch the hot water and we will get you ready.” She promises and rushes off.

You are grateful that your trunks have been delivered, your dress you had made clean, if slightly wrinkled from being packed. Airing it out, you had hoped you would wear this while marrying a man that you had met before, but it seems unlikely to happen now. You had not even heard any movement in the large house.

Carmen works diligently to clean you up, washing your back and making sure the dirt from the journey has been washed off prior to your wedding. Once you’re dry, she works on styling your hair and soon enough, it’s time for her to help you into your dress. “What’s he like?” You ask her as she buttons your dress and Carmen bites her lip. “He’s…direct but fair.”

“That seems to be what everyone says about him.” You hum. “Is he a handsome man?” Carmen glances at you nervously. “He- some think him handsome. But-“ she glances around your empty bedroom and lowers her voice. “He has a - a scar. Over his left eye.”

You inhale sharply, wondering how a man like Tovar got a scar over his eye. You’re worried now, scared that he is going to be a rough man. “He’s a good Don, fair and harsh but I think you will be good to have in this house. We need light, we need love. It’s been missing for far too long.”

It doesn’t take much longer for Carmen to declare that you look perfect. Your nerves flutter in your stomach and you press your hand to it in a meager effort to calm them. “Then perhaps you can show me a little of the estate while we walk to the chapel?” You assume that there is a chapel on the grounds that you will be married in. Giving your maid a weak smile, you try to hide the fear.

Carmen nods, “of course, señorita. Come, let us go now. Your intended will be waiting.” She says and you exhale shakily, trying to gather yourself to get married to a man you’ve never met before.

The estate is beautiful, the ground neglected like the house, although you can tell someone had once cared for them a great deal. You wonder if that was your soon to be husband's late wife. It doesn’t take long for you to see the stone chapel, overgrown and yet the soft candlelight coming from the windows gives it an enchanting glow. You take a deep breath and glance at the maid for some reassurances.

Carmen squeezes your arm and winks at you, “everything will be fine.” She promises but you both know she has no way to assure that. You stand in the entrance of the chapel when the violin starts to play and you swallow harshly when Carmen gestures it’s time for you to go. You exhale shakily and step foot into the main hall of the chapel.

****

When you step into the chapel, Pero keeps his back turned. Your father had shown him your miniature so he knows you are a beautiful woman. Not that it makes a difference. He has far exceeded the socially acceptable grieving period for Maria and now he’s expected to get a wife. He needs a mother for his children and a woman to maintain his estate. The music plays as you walk down the aisle and when you approach him, he turns around and inhales sharply when he sees your face. You’re gorgeous. A woman most men would kill to wed but he doesn’t care about looks, he cares about you filling the position that has remained empty in his home. He wonders if you like the look of him.

Your steps forward stumble briefly, but you recover. Catching your breath and smiling softly, you find him to be most handsome in a visceral, viral way. Rough and not exactly tamed, although many would say that you were possessed to think that way. HIs eyes are dark and watching you, making your skin heat and you wonder if your future husband approves of you. Stepping closer to him, you stop directly in front of him and take another breath. “Don Tovar.” You murmur, curtsying prettily.

You curtsy so perfectly, it’s almost enough to make him smile but he doesn’t. He hasn’t since Maria died. His life is now black and white, his love taking all of the color in the world with her when she died during childbirth. “Señorita.” He greets you and takes your hands, turning towards the priest who was called to marry you. Pero’s secretary and Carmen are to bear witness to the marriage and Pero is glad there’s no audience to see him remarry a woman he doesn’t even know.

The priest recites the vows in Spanish and you follow along closely. Listening as he proclaims that marriage is a sacred duty to your husband and you can barely look at your intended. Sneaking a glance and trying not to fidget. “I do.” You murmur quietly when you are asked if you take the Don as your husband. Your eyes meet his and you bite your lip, wondering if he is unhappy. He is frowning, he must be unhappy with his decision to marry you.

Pero remembers his wedding day to Maria. How excited he was. Young and eager before the days of war to marry the woman he loved. He was ready to have a future with her and it was ripped away from him on one fateful winter day. Tovar recites his vows and when the priest declares you husband and wife, he leans in to kiss your cheek. “Welcome, mi esposa.” He whispers once you are married.

A kiss on the cheek was not what you expected, turning to find his lips when he pulls away leaves you flustered. “Gracias, husband.” You murmur quietly. His secretary and your maid clap quietly and you turn back to them with a smile, thanking them for witnessing your vows.

Pero takes your hand to guide you out of the chapel and to the carriage awaiting to take you back to the main home. Pero doesn’t say a word as you are carted back and when you arrive, the housekeeper takes your hand to assist you inside. “There’s no need to arrange our bed chamber. My bride will be spending the night in her own room.” Tovar reveals with a grunt.

“Yes, Don Tovar.” Carmen nods and you are left feeling rejected even if you had been nervous about the wedding night. It is silly to think of, but you hope it’s because he wishes to get to know you before you become intimate.

“Then I wish you a good night, husband.” You nod politely to him and wait for him to speak.

Pero turns to look at you, reaching for your hand and he bends down to kiss the back of it but it’s cold and emotionless. “Buenas noches, señora Tovar. I will see you tomorrow so we can discuss your duties. Carmen, escort her to her room. Garcia, vamos. We have much to discuss.” Tovar says to his secretary who nods and steps beside him as he strides over without a glance back towards you.

“I see what you mean.” You murmur to your lady’s maid as she starts to guide you back up the stairs. “He is devoid of much emotion, although at least he is polite.” It is better than some men that you had met. “Is there a library in the house?” You ask curiously. “I fear that I had brought many of my own books when packing my trunks.”

“There is a library, señora. It- it needs organizing. It has been neglected for many years but the children do study there during the day. It needs a refresh. Perhaps you may ask Don Tovar if he will provide you with the tools to refresh the room where the children learn.” She says and you hum, letting her escort you back to your chambers.

****

“She is beautiful, no?” Carlos asks his employer who grunts as he sits down in the chair, working on removing his shoes and his wedding attire, wanting to be comfortable. “She is but you know I don’t care for beauty. I need a woman to run the house. To show those fools in society that I have fulfilled their requirements. I don’t need her company, I just need her presence. Her father was desperate to marry her off before his death and her dowry was enough to keep her without spending my coin. She’s suitable for the role and I’m hoping the children will attach to her.” Pero says and Carlos nods, “we shall see.”

You wake up shrieking as a pitcher of cold water is tossed on your face while you lay in your bed. Bolting upright, you flail your arms, hearing giggling as you try to blink and see what or who is attacking you. Finding two children grinning at you in defiance as the oldest holds the empty pitcher in his hands. It is still dark outside, at least you think it is, for the curtains are still drawn over the large windows. Pero’s children. Your husband’s children have woken you up by throwing water on your face. You leap from the bed right as you hear the pounding of footsteps and the door to your room bursts open.

“Alejandra! Luis! Mierda!” Pero growls as he storms into the room to find his children standing there with their hands behind their backs. “What is wrong with you?” He growls, turning to face you when he sees you are soaking wet, his eyes dipping down to the white gown you’re wearing, now see through and he swallows harshly at the sight of your nipples. Carmen rushes in and he turns towards her. “Gather water for a bath to warm her up and get her a robe.” Pero demands and turns back to his children. “I was walking past when I heard the commotion. You cannot do that. Why would you do that?” Pero hisses at his children who stare at him defiantly.

“We thought it would be funny.” Alejandra answers and Pero inhales deeply.

“That is not acceptable. You will miss breakfast and today, you’ll be writing lines - saying you will not abuse your new mother.” He says lowly and Luis shakes his head, “she isn’t our mama. We don’t want her. We want our real mama.” Luis stomps his foot and Pero pinches the bridge of his nose.

“Go to your rooms before I get the belt.” He threatens, knowing he wouldn’t actually hit them but every day they test him and push him closer to physical punishment.

“Papa-” Alejandra chokes and Pero hisses, “do not test me girl. Now get out of my sight.” He hisses and the children rush out of your room.

“I am sorry.” You murmur quietly, covering your arms over your chest and shivering in the cold. It is chilly in the room since there is not a fire laid in the grate and you wish that you did not feel so exposed with his eyes on you. “I- I do not know what happened.” you shake your head. “I was sleeping and then - I just - they do not wish for a new mother?” You had expected that the children were accepting of your new husband marrying again, but it is apparent they do not want you here. That will make things more difficult for you if you expect to forge any kind of bond with them.

“They are loyal to their mother.” He answers curtly, wanting to add that he is too but he feels that would be too insensitive. “They will come around. They have been troublesome and I am hoping a female presence will help them adjust.” He says and Carmen rushes over with your robe to help you cover up.

“Thank you.” You wrap the robe around you and find that your husband does not seem to care for you being here any more than his children and you swallow harshly, feeling incredibly alone. “I see.” You nod and decide that you might as well broach the subject since he is here. “Then I have permission to discipline the children?” You ask him. “If they are to respect me, then they need to see me as an authority figure as well as a motherly one.”

“Yes, but I do not physically punish them. You are welcome to discipline them as you see fit. I have struggled to control them. They do not seem to want to be around me and I - I must admit I am a little hopeless about how to handle them.” He confesses, “if you can control them, you’ll have my admiration.”

You nod, thankful that he will allow you to curtail his children’s rambunctiousness. “I also wish to reorganize the library and freshen up the house to make things more homey.” You add. You do not tell him that his home is desperately in need of repair, but that would be something that you would be able to tackle with a good scrubbing and a good airing out. “Would that be acceptable to you?”

Pero nods, unable to argue with you when you are doing exactly what he wants to be done. He needs his home to be returned to its former glory and his children to be nurtured and loved in ways he has failed. “Very well, señora. I will let you prepare for the day. Breakfast will be brought to you and you are permitted to explore the house as you see fit. It is your home now.”

“Thank you.” You murmur quietly, wondering if you would ever have a meal with the man you call your husband. “However I will order dinner to be served in the dining room this evening.” It will be the first time you will have imposed your will and you wonder if he will dismiss your wishes. “Perhaps the children can join us?”

Tovar nods, “very well.” He doubts he will eat dinner with you. That implies that you are having some kind of relationship and that isn’t what this is. You’re here to fill a position like if he were to hire a new housekeeper. Pero stares at you for a moment before he steps back and makes his way down the hall to his office.

You blow out a breath, happy and yet slightly discontent with his answers and you feel like he has no intention of trying to get closer to you. It’s like he does not actually want you here, but needs you. “Well, good morning to you as well.” You huff sarcastically under your breath.

Pero continues on with his day, attending to the finances due at the end of the month for the tenant rents and salaries for the staff, signing off on the accounts for the food and necessities. It’s a laborious job but Carlos can only do so much. Your presence here will alleviate the household requirements from him but the estate needs maintenance. The day gets away from him and he is soon preparing for lunch.

You sigh, exhausted and wipe your brow as you collapse into a dusty couch and look around the room. The library will be days in the making to turn into a lovely place to read and teach the children. Who have been watching you warily and not paying attention to their tasks. They are seated at a table, their books open, but neither one of them has completed an assignment. “How do you like the gardens?” You ask, looking over at them. “Is it lovely to have picnics there for lunch?”

Alejandra glances at her brother before she answers you, “we don’t have picnics in the garden. Papa doesn’t really like for us to go outside.” She tells you and Luis nods his agreement, making you frown. “He says it’s dangerous to go outside in the gardens.”

You purse your lips, not remembering any kind of warning about staying out of the gardens. “Perhaps your papa means that it would be dangerous for you to go out there by yourselves?” you offer, standing up and wiping your hands on your apron that you had covered your day dress with. “Why don’t we see about having the cook make up some picnic food and we can take lunch out there? Explore and take in the fresh air.” It was obvious the children were bored and isolated, running around in the gardens would be good for you and them. Perhaps it would even help them like you.

Alejandra is cautious as she watches you, placing her pencil down so she can look at you properly. Luis tugs on her sleeve, shaking his head, and she pushes him off. “The garden, Luis.” She says pointedly and the little boy giggles, making you tilt your head. “What’s so funny?” You ask and Luis shakes his head. “Nothing.” Alejandra answers, “a picnic would be lovely.”

You frown but nod. “Alright. Put your books away and we will venture into the kitchen.” You smile. “Perhaps the cook has made cookies for us to have.” You shouldn’t bribe the children with sweets but you want to break through their prickly exteriors. They are still young and it has been a long time since their mother has been lost to them. “How does that sound?”

Luis nods, cautious but easily swayed by cookies. Alejandra is more reserved, offering you a look as she closes her book and you smile at her, trying to disarm her cautious nature. The children soon have their books stored away and they rush towards the kitchen, calling out for the cook who has become a mother figure for them. Señora Lola. “¡Ay niños!” She exclaims as they practically slide into the kitchen.

You can’t help but smile as the children greet the cook with obvious affection and your complaints about your first dinner being cold are forgotten for the moment. They hug the cook excitedly and both begin talking at once, turning and pointing to you. When the older woman looks up at you, you nod your head politely. “The children and I would like to have a picnic luncheon in the gardens.” You explain in Spanish. “Would we be able to put together a suitable fare for this?”

Lola nods, “of course, señora. I can prepare a basket for you and the children.” She assures you, “would you like a cup of tea while I prepare lunch?” She asks and you nod, moving to sit down at the kitchen table while the children tell Lola about their lessons. You can sense that she’s like a mother figure to the young ones and you’re glad they have had someone since their mother passed. Lola works fast to get you a cup of tea and the children a glass of milk while they wait.

“Thank you.” You watch as she moves about the kitchen, finding her to be quick and decisive as she gathers her ingredients. This is not a woman who is sloppy or resentful it seems. It makes you wonder why the food was so horrible the day before. When the kids are busy drinking their milk, you smile. “Tell me about yourself, Señora Lola. It is obvious you have been with the Don’s household for many years.”

Lola smiles, “my mother was the cook before she retired. My father was the Tovar’s butler and they fell in love and had me. Mi mamá taught me everything I know and we have been in the Tovar household for three generations. My son is a gardener. My husband is the groundskeeper. Maria - bless her soul - was the heart of the home. She lit up every room she was in.” Lola sighs and glances at the children.

“I understand that I am new.” You venture softly. “And I cannot replace Señora Tovar, but I would like to bring some comfort and happiness to her family.” You know that you can’t just force these people to accept you. Not when they had lived for so long with the ghost of the woman who had left them broken. You bite your lip. “Will you help me do that, Señora Lola?”

Lola nods, “if you can bring hope and light back to this home, you will forever have my admiration and gratefulness, señora. You are Señora Tovar now.” Lola tells you and you bite your lip as she prepares the lunch.

Once the lunch is packed away in a basket along with a large bottle of lemonade, you have Carmen bring you a quilt to spread on the grass to sit on. Guiding the children out of the large, glass doors into the garden, you smile at the bright sun and fresh air. The weather is beautiful and you can see yourself bringing the children out here often. “Where would you like to sit?” You ask, looking around the neat but barren gardens. It’s obvious Lola’s husband keeps them up but there has not been any new flowers or plants added for some time.

The children point to a spot near the pond and you allow them to guide you towards it. Carmen spreads out the blanket and you settle down with the children. Pero is standing up to stretch when he sees you and the children on the lawn. He tilts his head and wonders how you managed to get them to sit down for more than five minutes. Maybe he did make the right decision.

Eating outside seems to have been a magical treat for the kids. They ate politely and minded their manners after the promise of running around after they finished was made. You can tell they enjoyed it and by the time you had to pack up to go back to the house to finish their lessons they were sleepy. Making you smile at the way they leaned against one another.

****

“Señora, is this the color you prefer for the drapes?” Carmen asks you as you appraise the different materials and pattern samples. It’s been a month since you’ve been in Pero’s home and you have been slowly working on bringing the home back to its former glory. The children have grown closer to you, wanting their meals in your company, yet still no sign of your husband.

Pero walks down the hall, the portraits of his ancestors lining the walls and he notices the change of the decor. Everything seems dusted and shiny, and the rugs are pristine. It’s fresher and brighter. He knows it’s your doing and that makes him smile, assured he made the right decision to marry you.

“I think it will look lovely in the breakfast dining room, don’t you?” You ask, finding Carmen to be a wealth of information and a good judge of character and design. As the two of you had grown closer the more time you spent going through the house room by room. Even the kids were helping when it was time to scrub walls and beat rugs out in the garden. You had turned it into a game where you covered their eyes and spun them around before they whacked the rugs with a broom. They had giggled and fallen down, but it was worth the extra time it had taken to freshen the rugs. “Perhaps, even if he does not dine with me, Don Tovar might enjoy reading his paper and drinking his tea in a bright and cheerful room.”

“Papa! Papa!” Alejandra rushes up to her father who is shocked at her cheerful greeting.

“Sí, mi tresoro.” He answers and she grins, “we are going into town today.” She declares and Pero frowns, not liking the idea.

“Whose idea is this?” He asks lowly and Alejandra says your name. Pero sighs and tells his daughter to lead him to you. She takes his hand and guides him to the kitchen where you are sitting with Lola. “Hola.” He greets his cook who smiles at him and says “hola señor.” His dark eyes turn to you, “Alejandra tells me you are taking the children into town today?”

“I am.” You nod as you set down the book you are making notes in. Carmen hustles to put the fabrics away and you send your husband a small smile. “The children need new shoes and I have several merchants that I wish to visit.” You glance at Alejandra with a proud look. “The children have assured me that they will be well behaved, and they are excited to spend their own pin money.”

Pero frowns, “I do not like them going into town. I do not want you going into town. It is dangerous.” He says, remembering when Maria went into town while with child and was knocked over. She went into labor early with Luis and that’s the night that she died. His hands shake a little and he shakes his head, “you are not going. I forbid it.”

Your brow arches and you look towards Carmen and Lola. Both women quickly bow and disappear. “Alejandra,” you urge his daughter. “Go and find your brother.” You urge her as you stand up and brush your dress down. If you are going to disagree with your husband, you are not going to do it in front of the staff or his children.

Pero meets your defiant gaze and he clears his throat, “I will not allow you to go into town. It’s dangerous. If you need something, you can tell the staff and they will go and get it.” He compromises and you glance around to make sure no one is around.

“Don Tovar, I appreciate your concern for my well-being but I am not a child and I will not be held hostage on your estate.” You declare. “I will take a footman and a driver with me, and exercise all caution. But I am going to town. Now….is there anything you wish for me to get while we are there?”

Pero clenches his jaw, remembering that moment Maria was carried into the house, her screams still echo through the halls of his mind. “No. I forbid it. You won’t be leaving this estate. That’s an order.” He growls, reaching for your wrist to grip it, his hand shaking as he remembers the night Maria died.

You wince when he grabs your wrist, squeezing it hard enough that your breath catches in pain. You wrench your wrist away from him, yanking your arm down and stepping back, your eyes wide with both fear and anger. "I am your wife. Not your servant." You manage to keep the fear from making your voice tremble.

“You can’t go. I - I can’t - Maria - she- please. You cannot go.” He shakes his head, his chest starting to heave and he hates how anxious he’s become at the thought of losing more from his life. He has barely spent a moment with you since the wedding but the idea of his children losing another woman from their lives makes his chest tighten.

Fear turns to worry, making you step forward and reaching for his arm. “Pero?” You do not use his Christian name often, but you use it now. “What is wrong? Take a breath.” You urge him, frowning at the way that your husband has turned from cold and demanding to panicked. “Talk to me.”

He pants, unable to calm himself down, and he clings to you, pulling you close and he can’t control his thumping heart, remembering the night he lost Maria, the night he lost the light of his life. He closes his eyes, trying to control himself but he’s failing.

You nearly stumble, but you don’t resist him. Holding onto your husband’s waist while he trembles. He’s obviously horrified by the idea and you can’t understand why but you don’t want to make him do this. “Alright, alright, I will not go into town.” You give in, hating that you are but perhaps you can talk to him and come to agreement later on when he has calmed down.

Pero inhales deeply, remembering what his doctor told him to do, and he tries to calm himself down, grounding himself with your touch. He takes several moments before he opens his eyes, his gaze meeting yours. “I- I’m sorry, esposa.” He murmurs, his hands still gripping you.

"It is alright." You murmur soothingly, wanting nothing more than to make him feel comfortable around you. You are supposed to be here to help him, and it seems like he needs help with this. "I am here, I am right here." You assure him with a smile.

When you smile at him, he jerks back and lowers his hands, the shield back up as he gathers himself and clears his throat. “I, uh, I am going to go - go back to my office. I trust you will send Carmen in your place to town.” Pero says and quickly turns to rush back to his office, away from you and the children once more.

You stare after your husband, completely flabbergasted and frustrated. The man dictates that you must stay at the estate, not go to town and has an apoplexy before fleeing back to his study without giving you a reason why you must be a hostage. Blowing out a frustrated sigh, you turn and curse your husband's stubbornness. You need to know what happened to Maria and why town is forbidden.

Alejandra and Luis shake their heads when you tell them you are no longer heading into town. “Please. Tell Papa we must go!” Alejandra whines, clinging to your skirts.

“I’m sorry, amor. He won’t allow us. We must listen to him.” You say and she shakes her head and looks up at you to stomp her foot.

“I hate him!” She cries and runs off, followed by Luis. You sigh and sit down just as Carmen comes over with a tea tray.

“Señora, I do not wish to speak out of turn.” She says and you shake your head, “when do we hide our feelings and thoughts, mi amiga.” You smile at her and she smiles back, glancing around when she takes a seat beside you.

“Don Tovar has - has a lot of fears about you going into town because that was the night he lost Maria.”

You frown, unsure of why going into town would cause a woman to die in childbirth, but you take your tea and listen. “I do not understand.” You shake your head. “Maria died giving birth to Luis, I thought?” You frown, knowing you will need to soothe the children’s feelings later on, but you want them to be able to calm down before you try. If you know why your husband fears it so, you can explain better to disappointed young children who don’t understand why they cannot have fun.

Carmen glances around again, “Maria was far along with Luis when she wanted to go into town to fetch more yarn for knitting. She - she was an independent woman and Don Tovar, he - he worshiped the ground she walked on. She loved him and he loved her. When she went into town, she was robbed for her jewels and coins and thrown to the ground and it sent her into early labor. The thugs were never apprehended and she was rushed home and the doctor was called. That was the night Luis was born and Maria died. They thought Luis was going to die too but he survived. Don Tovar was never the same.”

“Oh.” Your shoulders slump and you can understand why Pero is fearful of his wife going to town now. Even if he does not love you, the children have grown close to you and it would hurt them to lose you. “That is so sad.” You look down into your tea with a sigh and wish for a moment that this had been explained to you sooner. “I better understand why he is so hesitant, but he cannot think that the children will be kept here forever, does he?”

“He has…attacks when he has concerns about the children’s safety. I think - I do not wish to speak out of place but I think that’s why he has pushed the children away.” Carmen says and you nod in understanding. “I think he wishes he could connect with them but it’s hard since all he sees is Maria. He loved her. She was his childhood sweetheart and they married young before he left to fight in the war.”

You sigh softly, knowing you would find it romantic if he didn’t push his children away. To close himself off from pain. “Then I will make him.” You decide with a firm press of your lips. “I will go talk to the children. Inform Lola that the children and I will be taking lunch in Don Tovar’s study.” You decide. “Since he refuses to take his meals in the dining room, we will come to him.”

Carmen won’t argue with you, knowing it is futile, so she nods. “Very well, señora. I will tell Lola now and will let Carlos know.”

You shake your head, “not Carlos. I want it to be a surprise.” You say and she nods, “sí, señora.” You smile and she stands, bowing her head before she exits the room, leaving you with the news to tell the children.

****

Pero looks up from his papers when there is a knock on the door and he calls out “come in.” When you enter followed by the children, he’s shocked. “Señora?” He frowns, setting his pen down.

“Husband.” You send him a smile and guide the children over to the table that sits in front of the sofa and they sit down. Alejandra is still pouting, but her tears have dried and she is not so angry when she was told her papa feared for her safety. “Carmen will be bringing in our lunch soon.” You explain with a cheerful smile. “I thought that since you work so hard and are so busy, we would join you here to have lunch together.”

Pero’s frown deepens, “lunch together? Are you not able to have lunch in the kitchen?” He asks and you raise your eyebrows at him.

Pero bites his lip and you answer him, “the children would like to spend some time with their father seeing as we are no longer going into town.” You say and Alejandra stands up to walk over to Pero, reaching for his hand, “please papa. Let us have lunch together.” Her pout is Pero’s unraveling as he nods, standing up from his desk chair to walk towards the sofa.

Luis grins, unaware and still too young to understand his father’s hesitancy, but he begins to tell his father about the Spanish Armada that the governess is teaching the children about lately. “Sí, mijo. The English defeated us.” His dark eyes meet yours as he answers questions Luis excitedly asks him and he seems to relax a little. Lola and Carmen bring the meal in and the four of you begin to eat.

“I have decided to ask Carmen to direct any traveling merchants to our house when they are going through town.” You take a sip of your tea and look at your husband. “As well as inquire about children that are near Luis and Alejandra’s age that might wish to come play with them. Soon the house will be ready for visitors.”

Pero frowns, “why would we require merchants to come to my home?” He asks as he picks up his glass of wine. “And for the other children…I suppose it will be good for them to mingle with others.” He concedes that point, glancing at you and he’s taken back once again by your beauty, especially when the light hits your face.

“We require merchants to come to your home because the children need new shoes, their own are pinching their feet and the cobbler cannot make their shoes without measuring their feet.” You point out. “Also, I enjoy socializing and since I am not permitted to go to town, I will simply have town come to me.”

Pero sets his wine glass down, “I suppose that is for the best. I want the children to have everything they need, I want you to have everything you need. You - I am guessing one of the staff told you about Maria?” He asks, curious if anything has been said about his behavior.

You could lie to him, but you don’t. “I was told about the night Luis was born.” You admit softly, understanding how such a thing could haunt the man, especially since he was a soldier in the war. You wonder if the poor boy you have come to love even gets any acknowledgement on his birthing day, or if grief is too overwhelming. “You have my deepest sympathies.”

Pero swallows the lump that always forms in his throat when he thinks about Maria and that fateful night. In a way, he’s glad he didn’t have to discuss it with you, to relive that horrid night, but another part of him knows he needs to discuss it with you, to tell you why he brought you here and has yet to consummate the marriage. That time is not now though with the children here. “Gracias, mi esposa. I- I would like to have supper with you tonight…if you want.”

Your head tilts in surprise but you don’t voice it. “That would be lovely, Don Tovar.” You murmur softly, aware that he is asking for a dinner that is apart from the children. “I will ask that Lola makes your favorite dish.” You offer, smiling slightly. “Do you have any preference for dessert?”

Pero’s gaze dips down to your cleavage. You are a beautiful woman and he has not indulged in pleasure since Maria died apart from a few times where he had spent his coin and then felt incredibly guilty after when he felt like he was betraying his beloved wife. Tonight is about giving your marriage a chance, giving you a chance when he’s been so closed off from you since your wedding night.

You don’t miss the way that your husband's eyes dip down to your breasts and you wonder if he has finally decided to acknowledge that he has a wife. You aren’t ignorant of the relationship between man and wife and yet you have still retained your chastity well into your marriage. Pero mumbles something about a sweet and you nod. “I will make sure that is what you get, if you so desire.”

He nods in appreciation and Luis takes his attention by handing him a cookie from the tray. “Gracias, mi amor.” Pero smiles at his son.

“Papa, will you come and ride with us tomorrow?” Alejandra asks, wanting him to join them for their riding lessons.

“I- I am busy, mija. I-”

Alejandra shakes her head, her lower lip trembling. “Papa. I want - please.” She begs and Pero looks at you, a little lost.

“Your Papa is a very busy man, sweetheart.” You remind her gently. “Although, I believe that he should be able to join you for at least one hour? Yes, Don Tovar?” You ask, glancing from Alejandra to your husband. It will allow the children to see their father and still not take too much time away from his busy work. Although you feel as if he spends much of his time working so he does not have to grieve. “How does that sound?”

Alejandra nods, “please papa. Just an hour. Por favor.” She pleads and Pero nods, not wanting to see his daughter so pouty.

“Sí, mi amor. An hour. Let’s go riding for an hour.” He compromises and she surges forward to hug his arm, “¡gracias, papa!”

You smile at your husband’s shocked face when his daughter smothers him in affection. Nodding when he looks over at you, asking if he is doing things right or perhaps seeking help. He’s doing something that will make his children very happy and it’s a good thing. “Now we need to finish eating.” You tell the children. “Papa needs to get back to work, so finish your lunch so we can leave him to it.”

Pero nods, rubbing Alejandra’s back and he leans down to kiss her head. He can’t deny the way his heart twists at how much he’s missed out on with his little girl and his son. He knows he needs to be a better father to them. “Let’s finish eating.” He says and Alejandra nods, letting go of her father to settle down to eat. Lunch is finished in companionable silence and Pero is soon kissing his children on the head, promising them he will have dinner with them tomorrow.

“Go start your studies again.” You tell the children, smiling when they rush off and you turn towards your husband, slightly flustered to be alone with him for the first time. “I will clean up and get this mess out of your hair.” You promise. “Thank you for not turning them away. They talk about their papa every day and want to spend time with you.”

Pero smiles, watching the children rush off after kissing his cheek then yours, and Pero watches them with his heart thumping. “Gracias, señora. You - you brought me back to my children and I- I never knew how to bridge the gap. I- I cannot repay you for that.”

“There is no need for repayment, Don Tovar.” You assure him, still calling him by his formal title since he has never permitted you to use his Christian name. “That is my job.” You know that he would rather be quit of your presence so you nod and quickly turn around to gather the meals up onto the trays to be carried back to the kitchen.

Pero swallows harshly, “please…call me Pero.” He says and reaches for your hand. He squeezes it, and his heart twists as he thinks about you and how beautiful you are yet he feels like he’s betraying Maria.

“P-Pero.” you murmur, feeling shy now that he has stopped you from your task. You bite your lip as you stare into his dark eyes, wishing that you could tell him how handsome you find him. “Is there - something else you wished for, Pero?” You ask quietly.

Pero stares at you for a moment before he withdraws his hand. This is progress but he knows he shouldn’t venture into his attraction to you. It will only lead to heartbreak, either his or the children’s. “No. That is all. I shall see you later for supper.” He says and clears his throat.

You are disappointed, knowing that he wanted something else but you don’t push him. He had shown that he had no wish to have a relationship with you. “Yes, Don Tovar.” You revert back to your formal politeness and you pick up one of the trays and you will send Carmen in to gather the other. “Good afternoon.”

Pero frowns, wishing to hear his Christian name from your lips and when you carry the tray out of the room, he leans back against the chair, sighing and rubbing his face. He wants this to work. He needs this to work. For the children’s sake. Dinner tonight will be his chance to redeem his terrible behavior.

The rest of the day is spent with the children. After asking Lola to make the Don’s favorite meal, you had finished their lessons and then took them down to the kitchen for both their dinner and their baths. Laughing when they pouted when getting into the water, and then pouting when they had to get out. Once they are clean and in their nightclothes, you chatter and joke with them as you take them back upstairs to put them to bed. Leaving you little time to get ready for dinner with your husband, but it is for the best. You had no time to think about why he wanted to have dinner with you now, so long after your marriage.

Pero adjusts his jacket - not the latest trends but well made, none the less- and he paces in the dining room, wondering if you aren’t coming as the minutes tick by. When you finally appear, you look beautiful and his heart flutters in his chest after laying dormant for so long. He strides forward, taking your hand in his and leans down to press his lips to the back of your hand. “Esposa, you look beautiful.”

“Forgive me for being late, Don Tovar.” You curtsy for him and hate how handsome he is in his evening jacket. “The children were begging for another story before bed and I could not say no.” Your own preparation for dinner had been rushed and you hope that he is not disappointed by your appearance.

Pero shakes his head, “don’t be silly, esposa. The children come first. I trust they are in bed?” He asks and you nod, “they are asleep and in bed.” You smile and Pero keeps your hand in his so he can guide you to your chair. He pulls it out and helps you sit before he makes his way over to his own seat.

Once you are seated, Pero sits across from you and Carmen immediately marches into the dining room with the first course. “Don,” you venture, smiling your thanks to Carmen as she sets down the soup. “I believe that we should hire more staff.” You tell him. “My maid also acts as the housekeeper and now she is serving our dinner. I believe that we need a butler and perhaps a full time housekeeper. That way we are not overworking our staff.”

“You are in charge of the household. If you wish to have another, I will have Carlos and Lola ask around in town.”

You lift a brow in surprise, your soup spoon nearly to your mouth and you take your bite and swallow before you respond. “Thank you, I will have them ask immediately.” You smile at him again and Pero glances back down at his own soup as if he is shy. “The children are excited about riding with you tomorrow. I was surprised they had not learned already but they have come so far in their lessons.” If it is a rebuke, it is a small one. The children had been very far behind in their lessons and some had not started at all. You had been working diligently to get them on track to where they should be. “They are very bright children. You should be very proud of them.”

Pero’s stomach twists with guilt. He barely knows his children. He doesn’t know that they are behind in their studies when you mention they have much to learn. The guilt twists in his stomach again and he knows he can’t hide from them anymore. “I am.” He answers softly, offering you a rare smile. You are so kind, he doesn’t want to tarnish you with his sins.

Surprised by the smile, you offer one of your own and hope that he is starting to care. You continue to eat in silence, waiting for Pero to talk to you but the silent sounds of eating settles between you. It’s sad, really. This man doesn’t have more questions about his children and doesn’t seem interested in them. When you are done, you set your spoon down and quietly wait for the next course.

Carmen brings in the next course and Pero is struggling to find the words to make conversation. It’s been so long since he had dinner with someone and he’s a little out of practice with his etiquette. “Are you liking Spain or do you miss your home?” He asks you after rubbing his hands together.

“Truly?” You shrug one shoulder and look down at the plate in front of you. “I have not seen much of the country since the carriage ride to your estate.” You remind him, trapped here by your husband’s wishes. “But what I have seen is beautiful. Carlos is very hopeful we can restore the gardens and the greenhouse to their former glory.” You had learned that Pero had ordered that the garden not be planted, just maintained. As flowers would die off, they would not be replanted. At least until you had arrived. You suppose it was because Pero’s first wife had loved spending time in the gardens. The little pond of water had apparently been her favorite spot.

Pero wants to bite out that the gardens are not to be touched but then he remembers why he brought you here to marry him. He needs someone to maintain his home. “Perhaps we can take a ride soon, I would like to show you my country.” He says softly and looks up after he cuts into his meat.

“I would like that.” He might not mean it. Might not ever do it, since he seems to blow so hot and cold, but you smile. “I have missed riding.” You haven’t gone for rides since the children would want to come with you and they were not accomplished enough to go so far and you do not know the area. “But there has been plenty to keep me busy. Have you any opinion on the changes, Don Tovar?”

Tovar looks out of the window to the beautiful gardens, now full of flowers after your dedication to the garden, and he turns to look back at you. “The gardens looks gorgeous, mi esposa.” He says and turns back to his meal. “You are bringing the estate back to its former glory.”

“Thank you.” You feel proud that even if he is a man who does not interact with you much, that he sees your improvements to his home. “Was there anything that you wished to discuss with me?” You ask quietly. “I thought that might be why you asked me to have dinner with you?”

Pero sighs, setting down his cutlery. “I wanted to discuss…if you were looking to have children of your own. We never got a chance to discuss it and I wanted to address the matter as it would mean us…consummating our marriage.” He says, trying to be as matter of fact as possible.

“I had hoped to one day have children.” You confess setting your own cutlery down and hate how handsome he is despite how aloof he acts. “I have put those dreams aside, now.” You look away, back down at your food and you aren’t hungry anymore. “It does not seem that you are interested in….consummating our marriage.”

Picking up his glass of wine, Pero knows he has failed in your marriage already. He’s been selfish and he isn’t sure how he can fix it. The thought of betraying Maria in this final way has his stomach twisting. “Are you- are you interested in consummating the marriage?” He asks softly.

You need to be honest with him. So you are. “I am not interested in being used.” You admit bluntly. “I have no experience with intimate relations, but I do know what to expect.” You assure him. “However, I would not accept being used to fulfill your needs and then ignored until the next time you have use of my body.” You could very well ruin your chances of any kind of relationship with Pero, but he asked. “You are a very handsome man, and I have found myself thinking about you often, but if you have every intention of satisfying your lust and then pretending I don’t exist until the next time you want to touch me, I would rather you just leave me untouched.

Pero nods, appreciating your candor and the way you hold yourself. It makes you more attractive to him. He sips his wine as he contemplates his answer. “I do not wish for you to feel used and I am not capable at this time of more than physical release. If you wish to experience pleasure, I will ensure you are satisfied with our marital bed. However, if you yearn for an emotional connection, then I would suggest we permanently place any relations on hold.”

You smile, albeit sadly. “Don Tovar, I have never expected love in an arrangement. I am not a silly, romantic girl. However, I will require you to respect me if we were to share our marital bed. Take your meals with me and perhaps some evenings beyond our pursuit of pleasure. I don’t require your heart, I know your first marriage was one of love and your affections still lay with your late wife.”

Pero is taken back by your refute to his offer but he appreciates your directness. “Very well. I assure you that I will try my best to ensure you are satisfied physically. Shall we - would tonight be appropriate or do you wish to wait until it happens naturally?”

You hum, amused by the idea of physical relations happening naturally with a man who has not spent more than two hours in your presence since you have been married to him. Perhaps it is foolish, but you want to know what it is like to be touched. “Tonight is fine.” You assure him and pick up your cutlery again. “Do you have any preference for physical intimacy? I do not have any reference, so I will need to be told if there is something I should not do. Or should do.”

Pero nods, “very well. Let us finish our meal and I will allow you as much time as you require to get ready for our consummation.” He assures you and continues to cut into his meal so he can finish eating. Dessert is soon served and you eat in companionable silence before the dishes are cleared away. “Take your time.” He tells you as he stands and waits for you to gather yourself from the dining room table.

You nod. “Give me twenty minutes.” You ask as he takes your hand to walk you to the stairs. “Then I will be ready.” You noticed that he did not answer you about his preferences but figure that he would just show you tonight. After all, it is a husband's job to teach his wife about how he prefers love making.

Pero watches you walk up the stairs and he exhales shakily, realizing that this will be a big step towards cementing your marriage as husband and wife tonight. He clears his throat and makes his way to his chambers to clean himself up. It’s been a while since he’s been intimate but he remembers that women do not like being with men who smell like a long day. He washes and dresses in his linen nightshirt, deciding to keep things simple for the act. Inhaling deeply, he makes his way down the hall to your chambers.

Tovar knocks on the door, heart thumping in his chest, and when you call out for him to come in, he slowly opens the door. “Hola, esposa.” He murmurs after he shuts it behind him. He takes in your figure, glowing in the firelight and his cock twitches under his shirt.

“Hello, husband.” You bite your lip and wonder how he will approach you and this. “What- what do you want me to do?” You ask, watching him carefully, more nervous than you had expected to be. You don’t think he will hurt you, but you had been told the first time is painful and that you would learn to enjoy it. “Do you wish me to get on the bed?”

Pero shakes his head, walking over to you to take your hands in his and he exhales shakily, suddenly nervous. It’s been so long since he’s been with a woman, especially his wife. His heart clenches when he briefly thinks of Maria but he pushes that aside. “Esposa, eres hermosa.” He murmurs, letting go of your hand so he can reach up to caress your cheek. You are beautiful and any man would be lucky to have you as their wife. You deserve better than him, than some half shell of the man he used to be. He slides his hand down to caress your neck and your collarbone, his fingers playing with the edge of your gown. “Can I take this off?” He asks, his dark eyes meeting yours, burning like embers in the flames of the fire.

Mouth dry from that simple touch, you nod. Watching him as his eyes seem to shine like a dark flame and you can help but to think that he is most handsome. His hands skim down over your waist and he tangles the material of your nightgown in his fingers and slowly starts to drag it up. Exposing you to the warmth of the fire and it makes you even hotter as your skin starts to burn from the simplest touch. Tonight you will just let him touch you, hopefully show you what he likes. Maybe you can help him by letting him find pleasure with you.

Pero tosses your gown to the floor and steps back, his dark eyes running down the length of your body. His eyes focus on your tits, swallowing harshly as his gaze lowers to the thatch of curls at the apex of your thighs. “Hermosa.” He murmurs, stepping closer to you, and he reaches out to caress your waist, pulling you up against his body. “Tell me if you want to stop. Or you don’t like anything.”

You nod, wanting to touch him but you don’t ask. Knowing you would hate feeling rejected if he pulled away. Your breathing stutters as his fingers slide up and brush the underside of your breast, nipple hardening and you bite your lip so you don’t moan wantonly. “Pero….” Your whisper is soft, pleading and you wonder why you are so eager to have this man touch you.

His hand squeezes your breast until he notices that you want to touch him so he reaches for your hand, bringing it to his chest. “You can touch me, esposa.” He assures you, inhaling the scent of your bath oil as he leans in to run his nose along the length of your neck.

His own dressing gown is hanging open at the neck and your fingers slide inside to touch hot, tanned skin. Biting your lip and trying to concentrate as his fingers brush over your nipple and make you gasp. Looking down, you see the gown tenting over his cock and your cheeks burn, but you are curious to see what it looks like, reaching down and brushing the fabric close so you can see better.

Pero hisses when your innocent fingers brush his cock. He reaches down, guiding you to wrap your fingers around him. His skin is hot and velvety and you explore him with utter lack of knowledge but he enjoys it. He likes that you have no expectations of him. He can just feel. He murmurs your name and his hand lets go of yours, letting you explore him while his palms continue their own adventure, palming your ass in his grip.

It feels wicked and yet you know that it is perfectly natural to touch him. You need to learn how he feels since he is perhaps the only man you would ever sleep with. Unless you remarry and your husband is obviously a hale and hearty man. “It is so hard.” You murmur in wonder. “And yet so soft.” You gasp when you feel a wetness on your skin and look down to see a smear of liquid on your finger.

He refrains from chuckling at your virginal observations. “Take your time, esposa. We are in no rush. No rush at all. I want to make sure you feel good.” He assures you and he slides his hand down between your legs, finding you wet and wanting him. He loves that and he is going to make you cum. From his fingers, from his cock. He finds your clit and loves the gasp that escapes you as he starts to rub the bundle of nerves.

Your eyes flutter closed and you hand to cling to his shoulder before your knees buckle. “Oh…ohhhh my….” You whimper, your grip on his cock loosening. You don’t know what he’s doing to you but you need more of it. “Pero.”

Pero grabs your waist, keeping you upright and pressed against him while he works your clit. His lips brush your neck by accident and you shiver against him. He rubs your clit a little faster, wanting you to cum for him for the first time. “That’s it, esposa.”

He doesn’t seem to mind touching you, increasing how fast he is rubbing but he’s groaning against your ear and encouraging you. For what you don’t know, you just know that your stomach is fluttering and clenching right up until stars burst behind your eye and you gasp as your cunt clenches on its own and a wave of heat floods your core.

Pero keeps you upright, working you through it and groaning when you bury your face in his neck. He groans your name softly and slides his finger back to gently push it inside of you, wanting to stretch you out so you feel less pain when he finally fucks you.

“Ohhhhhh.” Your eyes wide, mouth hit against his skin as you moan. Surprised to feel his fingers inside you and your body jolts when he pushes them up and presses against something inside you, “oh Pero.” You whimper, closing your eyes and unable to help yourself, you kiss his neck.

He curls his fingers, knowing he needs to make this good for you. He pushes his fingers a little deeper, loving the way you kiss his neck and he knows he should stop you but the intimacy makes his heart twist, his stomach clench. It’s been so long since he enjoyed the touch of someone else. “Fuck.” He curses, his cock twitching.

“Is this- is this how it feels?” You pant softly, your hips rocking up to his hand. Chasing the feeling that he pulls out of you. “All the time?” You are surprised that there aren’t more babies in the world if sex feels like this.

“Sometimes.” Pero chuckles softly, adding another finger, “sometimes it feels good, sometimes it’s just a physical release to relax. Quiero - I want you to feel like this all the time we are intimate, mi esposa.” He murmurs, his hand squeezing your ass to encourage you to rock down onto his fingers.

You feel so good, rocking on your feet as you wantonly move in your husbands arms. Kissing along his neck every time you grind down onto his finger, you feel that sensation start to build inside of you again. “Pero.” You whimper, clutching his shoulders and clenching around his fingers. “Pero- I- again- it’s- it’s-“ you cut yourself off with a small cry, another wave of pleasure and heat flooding you and making you forget about everything but the bliss of his fingers.

The way you clamp down on his fingers has his cock leaking. To hear you so unabashedly enjoying yourself has him groaning and he works you through it. His fingers soaked and he knows you are ready to take him. “Mierda.” He hisses, pressing his cock against your hip as you come back down to earth. Soon enough, he’s withdrawing his fingers and he wipes his fingers on his nightgown. “Come on, esposa. Lay down. I want to fuck my wife.” He says with a slight smile, knowing it’s taken way too long to get to this point in your marriage.

You hum, nearly floating on a cloud as you walk over to your bed and pull the covers back. Climbing into the bed and knowing that you will come out of it properly wed is thrilling and you lay back amongst the pillows. Watching as he walks towards you. “Are you going to remove your shirt, husband?” You ask softly, wanting to see your husband as fully as he has seen you. There is no love between you, but there will be passion and you wish to know what he looks like.

Pero bites his lip, wondering if he will be good enough. If you will like the scars on his body from his battles won in the war. He exhales shakily and nods, reaching for the hem of his shirt so he can lift it over his head, fully exposing his body to you as you lay in your bed.

He is strong, you can tell that from the corded muscles that spoke of your husband doing much more than just being an idle lord. Bunching and rippling as he stands still for you inspection, you don’t hesitate to let your eyes roam over him. Widening slightly when you get your first look at his cock without some fabric blocking your view. “You are…handsome.” You admit breathlessly. “It- you make my core throb.”

Your words surprise Pero and he smirks, slightly cocky that you are satisfied with his appearance. He shifts closer to the bed until he is kneeling on it, his fingers caressing your ankle bone and up your leg. “That’s good. That’s lust, esposa. Do you desire me? Do you want me inside or you?” He asks, kneeling between your thighs and he doesn’t touch you so you can make the final assessment before he consummates the marriage.

Even though you are innocent, you are aware of what should happen. Feeling bold by the lust that is in his own eyes, you spread your thighs to reveal the thatch of curls covering your core. “Please, Pero.”

“Mierda.” Tovar mutters and caresses your thighs. When he looks into your eyes and sees your certainty, he nods and reaches down to grip his cock. Shuffling closer, he notches himself at your entrance and slowly, so slowly, pushes inside of you. “Fuck.” He pants, trying to control himself but you’re so wet and tight. He exhales shakily and pushes deeper, wanting to make sure you are as comfortable as possible despite him taking your innocence.

You squeeze your eyes shut, feeling a pinch but it is not the painful experience that you had been led to believe that it was. Moaning softly as you feel him deep inside, seemingly deeper than his fingers had been, and throbbing. Your fingers dig into his shoulders again and you slowly open your eyes as you breathe out. “Pero.”

The urge to bury himself inside of you is strong but he remains in control, slowly rocking his hips so he can work his cock deeper inside of you until he is settled inside of you. He knows you are a keen horse rider so your innocence was likely taken during a saddling but he doesn’t care. He’s damaged goods himself and he knows some men would want you to be intact but this is kinder to you and to him. He closes his eyes once he’s fully inside of you, his fists clenched as he tries to not spill his seed before you can experience the pleasure of sex.

“I- I feel so full.” You whimper, your fingers dragging across his skin and your legs shuffling slightly. He’s so still on top of you and it makes you want to move, need to move. To chase the same sensation you felt when you had his fingers inside you. You gasp when you think of what you heard your maids back home giggling about. Riding a man as if he were a horse and you clench down around him thinking about riding Pero like that, his cock deep inside you.

Pero hisses when you clamp down on his cock and he inhales deeply. He reaches down to grab your thigh and he lifts it higher so he can sink deeper inside of you. “Fuck.” He pants and starts to move slowly.

You moan again, eyes widening at how well you feel him. “I- oh Pero.” You whimper, trying to roll you hips down but he has you nailed to the bed with his cock. “I-f-fuck.” You stammer out, the curse unfamiliar on your tongue but it feels like it is necessary for what you are feeling right now as your husband moves inside you.

Your curse has his cock twitching inside of you and he groans when your walls squeeze him. “Fuck, esposa. You feel - it’s - perfect.” He allows you a minute access to his thoughts and that seems to make you wild. Clamping down on his cock and arching your back to egg him on. He starts to move faster, lowering his hips and groaning your name as he tries to make this good for you.

You enjoy the rough sound of his voice. Moaning again as he starts up a rhythm to his movements and making you nearly gasp every time he pushes deep. You slide your hands down your back, playing over scars and working muscles rippling under the skin. You feel like he approved of your curse so you do it again, followed by his name. “It’s so intense.”

He likes to hear that because it’s a lot to him too. To be intimate with his wife. He never imagined he’d remarry but he starts to think it’s possible to have a marriage with you, to be able to survive without Maria…perhaps even be happy. He enjoys your touch and slides his hand up to cup your breast, squeezing and he shifts so he can lean down to take your nipple into his mouth.

You hadn’t expected his mouth. Wrongly assuming that kissing being too intimate meant any part of your body and not just your lips. “Pero!” You cry out loud enough that the servants might hear and arch your back up, wanting more of the pleasure of his mouth at your breast. “Oh fuck, oh fuck.” You whimper, shivering.

He loves hearing you curse, his cock twitching inside of you, and he switches over to your other breast. He bites down on your flesh, nipping and sucking, and he moves inside of you, grinding deep. “You like this, hermosa?” He asks, lost in the pleasure of being inside of you.

“Yes, yes Pero.” You moan, closing your eyes and lifting your legs to wrap them around his waist. You know that you are making him feel good. At least you hope you are. Feeling his thrusts start to build faster, his breathing catching and starting to pant against your skin. “So much.”

He grunts when he feels you starting to clench around him and he drops his hips so he can press his pelvis where you need him more. “Cum for me.” He pleads with a groan, needing to feel you cum before he finds his own high. “Por favor, esposa. Cum.” He demands and drags his tongue along your sternum.

You shiver at the feeling of his tongue on your skin. “Ohhhh Pero!” You cry out, body starting to shake underneath his with the next thrust of his hips as you start to fall apart. Pleasure whipping through every inch of your body as you moan.

He clenches his eyes shut when you clamp down on his cock and he bites down on your shoulder as he barely manages to pull out of you, his hot seed spilling on your thigh. “Fuck.” He pants, cock twitching against your hip as he rides his orgasm.

Your eyes open and you frown in confusion as you feel the wetness of his seed on your skin. “I- is something wrong?” You pant quietly, wondering if you’ve somehow disappointed him.

He frowns, pulling back to look down at you. “What are you talking about? I- nothing is wrong.” He’s trying to catch his breath and he shifts to lay down beside you. “It was good.” He assures you, “did you not enjoy it?”

“You-“ You bite your lip and look up at the ceiling. “You spilled your seed on my thighs.” You murmur quietly, wondering if there was something wrong with you that caused him to do that. He was supposed to finish inside you. That’s what everyone said.

Pero closes his eyes, trying to conceal the pain. “I know - I know we aren’t - tonight was our first night but - but I can’t risk you being with child so soon.” He admits, reminded once again of Maria dying during childbirth.

“I-I am so sorry.” You close your own eyes, mortified that you had brought up something so personal to him. “I understand. Forgive me for being so thoughtless.” You know you have ruined things and you swallow down a sigh.

Pero shakes his head, shifting to swing his legs over the side of the bed. “Don’t worry, esposa. I- I’ll leave you to clean up. I have work to attend to.” He declares as he stands and reaches for his nightgown. “I shall see you tomorrow.” He says, turning to look at you after he edged towards the door.

You nod. “Yes.” You know he wants to leave and you sit up, his seed cooling on your skin. “I will clean up and then choose another book from the library before I go to bed. Goodnight, husband.”

“Buenas noches, esposa.” Pero says and swiftly leaves your room. Tonight, he gave in to his desires and left you upset after he pulled out of you. He knows you will urge him to have a child soon and he isn’t sure he is ready for that conversation but for now, he will retire to his quarters to read over the accounts before he falls asleep. He’s not entirely sure how long he can continue keeping you at arms length but he has to try. He cannot lose another wife.

****

The next morning, you are surprised to find your husband in the dining room when you come in. “Buenas días, husband.” You see that he is reading some papers, so you move to your normal seat with the cup of tea you had retrieved yourself when you had gone in to see Lola. “I hope your night was restful.” You had decided that you understood where Pero stood on getting you with child and you wished to speak with him about it. “Have you ever used a- a condom before?” You ask him. “My maid back home said they can be purchased from the chemist. Perhaps that would be a good solution?”

Pero raises his eyebrows over his newspaper, watching you for a moment until he chuckles. “Is that what you wish for us to use? I am happy to let you manage our…situation if you wish.” He trusts you and he isn’t sure when that changed.

“You said that you did not wish for me to be - to have a child.” You don’t add the ‘yet’ portion because you feel like he would rather that be ‘at all’. “So a co-condom would help.” You shrug, slightly self conscious now. “We don’t have to use one.”

Pero nods, understanding what you are saying and he appreciates your planning. “Let us have Carmen fetch us some things and then we have the choice.” He says, knowing that it will be hard to keep away from you now that he knows how you feel. The passion inside of you scares him and he knows if he allows it, he will lose himself in you. He can’t put his heart back on the line and the children need a mother. With a nod, he goes back to eating his pan con tomate and knows that you will take care of the issue of birth control.

Carmen brings you a plate of food and you thank her, eating in silence with your husband. You had not expected grand conversations with him, at least at the beginning, so you do not try to disturb him with idle chit chat and when you stand after finishing, you give him a small smile. “Have a good day, husband.” You wish him softly.

Pero watches you go and realizes that maybe he doesn’t just want this to be a marriage of mutual benefit. He finishes his breakfast in peace and decides to spend the rest of the day near the children.

****

“Where is my wife?” Pero asks Carmen, who frowns, “she’s in her chambers, Don Tovar.” She answers and Pero frowns, making his way to your rooms and he is even more confused when he enters and calls your name, only to find you aren’t there.

Biting your lip, you urge the horse faster. Knowing that you are breaking your word to your husband, but it cannot be helped. Luis is feverish, and Carmen and Lola had been nowhere to be found when you had gone searching for them. Frantic about your husband’s son, you know it would destroy Pero to lose the last bit of his wife that she had given him. So you broke your promise. Currently racing to town to fetch the doctor, you pray that the instructions you had given his sister were working and that you will be able to bring the doctor back from town in time.

When Pero finds the children, he’s frantic when he’s told that Luis has a fever and you have left to go to town to find the doctor. He can hardly contain his anxiety, his hands shaking, and he growls at Carlos, “I’m going to fucking find her!” He feels like he’s losing control, his heart pounding and his breathing is heavy. His legs feel like lead and his brain focuses on you and his children. Is Luis dying? Is this his punishment for his time in the war? Is he going to lose you? He pants and collapses to his knees, Carlos reaching out to steady him as his vision goes cloudy. “I- I - can’t save them.”

It is to your detriment that you haven’t been to town, wasting precious time to find the doctor and demanding that he come with you back to the Tovar estate. Shaking with fear and praying that you make it back in time to help your little boy. You didn’t give birth to him, but you have grown close to the children and you have come to love their personalities now they are being taught and challenged, time being spent with them. The mischief of your first meeting was long gone. Rushing to your horse and as soon as the doctor is mounted on his own, racing for home.

Pero manages to stand up, shoving Carlos away as he demands to know where you’ve gone. “I - Alejandra said she’s gone to the town.” Pero doesn’t waste a second, rushing to the stables and swinging his leg over his stallion, no saddle, he pushes the horse to the limit as he gallops towards town. Images of you injured or dead flash in his mind and he realizes how you have wiggled his way into his mind and heart. Your kindness and the feel of you beneath him have his heart twisting at the thought of anything happening to you.

Frowning, you spot a rider in the distance on the road. Unsure of who it might be, you glance back at the doctor who is on your horses heels and then forward again. Recognizing the haste in the way you see the horse being pushed, dread knots in your stomach, realizing that it must be your husband. Lifting a hand, even though he is too far away to shout to, you wonder if he will beat you for disobeying him.

Pero sees you as he gallops and he nearly falls off of the horse when he pulls on its hair to slow it down. “You - what the fuck do you think you are you doing?” Pero yells as you approach him and the doctor’s horse skids as he comes to a stop.

“Luis! Luis has a fever!” You cry out, panting for breath as your horse stomps and shakes underneath you, “I- I had to get the doctor.” Your own mother had died from a fever sickness and the idea of losing his little boy on your watch makes you want to be sick. “I- we must hurry Pero! He cannot die, not like mama!”

Pero nods, knowing that now is not the time to have this argument. “You’re unharmed?” Pero asks and you nod frantically. His heart is pounding but you are safe and unharmed from what he can tell so he turns his horse around and the three of you gallop back to his estate, back in front of the sick little boy in record time. Pero kneels beside Luis, watching the doctor and he swallows harshly, “por favor. Just - do something.”

You twist your hands, knowing that Pero is worried and you start to pray yourself. Carmen has Alejandra in the other room and you can hear her comforting the older child. The doctor works and you worry, pacing the floors continuously, eager to bring the doctor anything he might need and bringing in the basin of cold water that Lola brings up.

Pero holds his son’s hand while the doctor assesses him and murmurs prayers as you kneel beside him. He reaches for your other hand, squeezing it as he prays and the doctor starts to drain the boy’s blood in hopes of bringing down the fever. “Bleeding should help the fever break. If not, I have some bark I think will help.”

Pero swallows, his throat is dry, “whatever you can do. I- I can’t lose him.”

You try to be there for him. Sitting strong and praying as the doctor continues to bleed the boy until he claims that it is enough. Wiping him down and checking his forehead again with a small frown before he moves over to the teapot he had requested with boiling water. You squeeze Pero’s hand and glance at your husband’s worried face.

Pero doesn’t know how long he lays there, his heart and mind weary as he watches his son. The doctor gave him the tea and left, stating it “is in God’s hands now.” He’s not eaten, he hasn’t slept. He just sits there and watches the little boy breathe. He doesn’t know where you are, he sometimes wonders but he’s too concerned about his son.

You watch. Waiting for anything and everything that Pero or Luis might need. Often leaving the room to comfort Alejandra and to let her know how her brother is doing. You don’t want her to feel forgotten and eventually you allow her to come into the room after promising to be quiet. The two of you sit in a chair behind Pero and eventually curl up together and fall asleep together from exhaustion and worry.

Pero isn’t sure when he fell asleep, perhaps the exhaustion got to him and he simply rested his head on the cool sheets, his eyes closing without his knowledge. “Papa.” He doesn’t hear the weak murmur at first. “Papa.” A small hand touches his hair and Pero’s nose wrinkles. “Papa.” The voice is stronger and wakes Pero up, his head shooting up to see Luis lucid and awake.

“Luis” He gasps, reaching for him to check his views. His eyes are clear, his forehead cool but not cold. He’s okay. “Mi amor.” Pero chokes, wrapping his arms around the little boy to pull him into his arms.

You wake up, rousing Alejandra in your arms and nearly sob with relief that Luis is awake and alert. “Mama, is Luis okay?” Alejandra demands, her own worry for her brother causing her to not think about what she calls you. Your eyes widen and you try not to tear up at the honorary name, nodding and brushing her tangled hair back from her face and holding her close despite being on your lap. “It looks like he is.” You hum. “Go hug him and your papa.”

Alejandra nods, rushing over to her papa and her brother and she wraps her arms around them. Pero shifts, gathering the children into his arms and he sniffs, trying to ignore the tears that sting in his eyes as he embraces them. “Te amo, mijos.” He murmurs and looks over at you, “come here, esposa.” He gestures for you to come over to them.

Standing up, you are happy to see such a touching moment between the small family. You know you are a part of it now, but they are reminders of his wife and very dear to him. Walking over, you ruffle Luis’ hair and smile. “You gave us all a fright, Luis.” You hum, sliding your hand to your husband’s shoulder.

Pero reaches up to grip your hand in his, his terror at losing you or one of his children now subsided and in its place is joy that he doesn’t have to suffer another loss. The four of you embrace until Carmen comes in to attend to Luis, wanting him to eat something and drink. Pero tells Alejandra to stay with her brother and she nods. “I need to speak with you.” Pero says to you, his voice deepening as he reaches for your hand.

You swallow, aware that he will now punish you. You had disobeyed him and you know from everyone that Pero is a stern man. You follow him quietly, wondering why he is still holding your hand as he guides you out of the nursery towards your bedroom.

When Pero opens the door to your chambers, he pushes you inside. “What were you thinking?” He hisses, dropping your hand as he glares at you, “I told you to never go into town.”

“I was thinking that Luis was in danger.” You won’t apologize for your actions, but you understand his anger. “He needed the doctor and I could not find anyone.” You stand straight and stiffen your spine. “If you punish me, that is you right. But I would do it again. My mother died of fever and I did not want you to lose your last gift from your wife.”

Your words take Pero back and his jaw drops, staring at you as he absorbs your words. Your kindness knows no bounds it seems and that’s the moment it clicks for Pero. Unable to stop himself, he surges forward and you think he’s about to hit you but he doesn’t, instead, his lips press against yours.

You had flinched, you could admit that yourself but then you are gasping against Pero’s mouth, shocked that he is kissing you. He had told you that he wouldn’t do that again; it was too intimate for him. Yet his lips are warm and soft against yours and you cannot help but melt into him.

His hands grip your waist and his mouth moves against yours, his tongue sliding along your lower lip as he pulls you up against him. You moan into his mouth and his hands reach down to tug your skirts up, his hands soon pulling his cock free from his breeches, hard and aching. He needs you and he hopes you want him too.

You had expected a beating, not for your husband to fuck you. But you aren’t going to push him away. Your fingers tug on your petticoats and you quickly push them down. “Husband.” You gasp out when he pulls his lips away. “Please.” You whimper, enjoying his apparent need for you.

His hand grabs your thigh, lifting it over your hip so he can position his cock at your entrance and he pushes inside of you with a groan. “Fuck, hermosa.” He murmurs, caressing your thigh as he pushes deeper.

“Oh god.” You would probably collapse if he didn’t have his hand on your waist and use his strength to keep you upright. Wanting to kiss him again, you wonder if that was a fluke and he wouldn’t kiss you but you turn your head to kiss along his jaw while he throbs inside you.

He turns his head to kiss you, pressing his lips against yours as he starts to move inside of you. You’re so wet and tight and alive. You’re alive. He focuses on you and your touch, his mouth moving against yours as he presses you against the wall.

You had never considered that your husband could fuck you against a wall, and yet, it’s thrilling. You moan into his mouth and cling to him, not caring that his hips push you back against the wainscoting every time he thrusts into you. Your own tongue touches against his and your entire body shivers with pleasure.

“Fuck. Mi esposa. I- Don’t want to lose you.” He murmurs, kissing along your jaw, and he kisses down your throat as he lifts your hip a little higher so he can push deeper inside of you. “Fuck. Please. I need - I need you.”

“Pero.” You whimper, closing your eyes and letting him do whatever he needs to you. You are starting to fall for him, especially with how he worried for Luis.

It’s hard to imagine his days without you now. Cold nights alone have turned into passionate escapades scattered throughout the day, touches leading through the night. He has tried to stay away but you’ve drawn him in. He continues to work his cock in and out of you, groaning as he presses his lips to yours again.

Closing your eyes, you give yourself over to him completely. Clinging to him as he fucks you so deeply you know they you will be feeling him for days after. Even though he’s not wearing a condom, you expect him to pull out and spill his seed outside your body. The condom had been great and you loved the feeling of him pulsing inside you.

Pero kisses along your jaw, breathing you in and he needs you to clamp down on his cock. He grabs your other thigh, lifting you up completely as the adrenaline surges through him and he grunts as he lifts you up and down his cock, still pressing you against the wall.

Gasping, you wrap your arms around his shoulders and try to wrap your legs around him, your skirts bunched between you. “Fuck, Pero, I- I love you.” You moan quietly; needing to at least whisper it even though he doesn’t feel the same way. “So close.”

He hears it but he doesn’t respond. Instead, he presses his lips to yours and when you whine into his mouth, he groans against your lips when you clamp down on his cock. He should pull out but he doesn’t, too focused on you and how you feel and how he could’ve lost you. He grunts and keeps thrusting you through your orgasm until finally, he’s pushing deep and filling you full of his hot seed, painting your walls.

Your eyes widen and you are too busy worrying about the feeling of his hot seed inside you. Knowing he will regret it you are savoring this one moment. “Pero- Pero you have to let me- I have to bathe.” You whimper.

He doesn’t release you, his fingers digging into your flesh as he pants again at your chin, enjoying the feel of you surrounding him. “Don’t.” He murmurs, not wanting to let you go just yet. He can’t lose another person from his life that he cares for.

You frown but you don’t push him away, deciding that he knows what he is doing. “Okay, husband.” You pant softly, feeling him throb inside of you and start to soften. “Is-is this my punishment?” You ask teasingly.

Pero chuckles softly, pulling out of you and lowering you down to the floor. Your skirts settle down and he reaches down to tuck his cock back into his breeches. “No punishment.” He assures you and reaches for your hands, “please…just do not go into town unless you are escorted.” He compromises, knowing that it will be hard to overcome his anxiety surrounding town but he cannot keep you prisoner.

You bite your lip, aware that your husband is compromising. “Yes.” You murmur softly, leaning in and pressing your lips to his cheek. You don’t want to push him for more than he will give you so you won’t kiss him on the lips unless he kisses you first. “Thank you, Pero.” You hum, smiling as you pull back to look into his dark eyes. “I will have an escort.”

Pero nods, letting go of your hands and he is pleased that he could compromise. The idea of you going into town terrifies him, he doesn’t want to lose you. The children clearly love you and he - he has affection for you.

****

Pero looks up at you as you enter the dining room. He stands up, walking over to pull your chair out for you, taking over the job from the footman. “You look beautiful, esposa.” He murmurs, caressing your cheek as you stand before him and he helps you sit down.

“Thank you.” You give Pero a smile, but you’re slightly nervous. Your monthly time has been missed for several months now and you woke up feeling nauseous and your breasts being sore. You are with child and while your husband has become warmer to you, you don’t know how he will react. It’s true that there have been several times since the day Luis was sick that he hasn’t worn the condom, he had also still worn it and never said anything about having children with you or your confession of your feelings. You’ve never repeated those words again. “I’ll just have some weak tea and toast.” You tell the footman before he disappears to let Lola know you are ready for breakfast.

Pero frowns, usually you order more at breakfast and he wonders if you are unwell. “Are you ill, esposa?” He asks and wonders if you are okay. He watches you as you eye the cup of tea with a grimace and he calls Carlos over to order the doctor to come to the house.

“I think that I might have some kind of stomach malady.” You admit with a small groan, covering your nose from the aroma of the tea. “It should pass.” You have an idea of what is wrong but you don’t wish to alarm Pero.

Pero is concerned but knows the doctor will help you and Carlos will ensure his swift arrival. Your breakfast is hardly touched and he will inform Carmen to let Lola know to prepare a light but generous lunch for you. He is concerned, knowing how Luis was and he’s terrified that you are going to end up with the same fate.

After breakfast, you still feel ill, laying down and resting even though you know you should be watching the children. You feel dizzy and nauseous and you wonder if all women feel this way when they are pregnant. You are sure that is what is going on, emptying your stomach of the tea and the few bites of toast you had managed into the chamber pot under your bed.

Pero greets the doctor, escorting him to your chambers. This is the same doctor who was present when Maria died and the midwife called for him after there were complications. The two men exchange a look before Carmen announces the doctor’s arrival. “I will leave you to it.” Pero says after everyone enters.

“Oh, I didn’t know Pero was calling a doctor.” You sit up, embarrassed and hoping that the nausea has passed. “I am afraid that I am not quite feeling myself.” You admit when he tuts and brings his bag over. “I think- I think I might be ….” You lower your voice. “Expecting.”

The doctor nods, “very well. Let us check and we can confirm, Señora Tovar.” He says softly and under Carmen’s watchful eye, he performs his tests. Feeling your stomach, he smiles. “Congratulations, Señora. You are with child.” He offers you a soft smile and Carmen grins, “congratulations.”

“Thank you.” It’s a relief to know that is what is wrong, but you wonder how Pero will take the news that you are expecting his child. “What can be done about the nausea?” You ask him softly. “My mother died young and I have never been around someone expecting.”

“I have a tea I can provide your cook with to assist with the sickness.” The doctor informs you and is soon bidding you goodbye. When the doctor exits your quarters, Pero looks up, eyes questions and the doctor pats his shoulder. “I believe your wife had good news.” Pero swallows, knowing what that means and he thanks the doctor before Carlos escorts him out.

Exhaling shakily, he walks over to your room and knocks, entering your chambers to find you sitting on the edge of the bed. He sits down beside you and reaches for your hand, “esposa.”

“I’m sorry, Pero.” You start quietly, looking down at your joined hands. “I know that you wished to wait, or to never have children with me.” You are worried that he will be upset, that it will ruin the closeness you have felt with him lately. “I do not know what happened. I’m - I am going to have your child.”

He squeezes your hand, “don’t know what happened? I think I do.” He chuckles softly. “And…and I’m not angry about it. I knew what could happen and you are an incredible mother to Luis and Alejandra. I think you’ll be amazing.” He assures you, “and I - I want to have a child that is half you and half me.”

You let out the breath you had been holding and smile. Relieved that he is not upset and you are able to be excited for the first time. “I think it will be wonderful.” You admit, although you frown after a moment. “I promise I will not go into town, even with an escort, when my time draws near.” You don’t want him to worry about another wife, even if he doesn’t love you, he would worry.

Pero nods his gratefulness, knowing you now understand his anxiety and reaction. Especially after you ran off to fetch the doctor. He knows he is going to be even more protective of you. “It’s good news, hermosa.” He promises, leaning in to kiss your forehead, brushing his nose against yours until his lips brush your lips.

You’ve found there is comfort in his kisses. A certain sense of home that you’ve not found anywhere else as the nights in his bed progressed. It was often you ended up sleeping together after your pleasure but you had never voiced that sentiment of love again. You desperately want to say it again, but you are afraid to, afraid of being reminded that you are not his late wife and he had warned you that he wouldn’t love you.

****

As your pregnancy progresses, Pero gets more and more anxious. He’s nervous of the birth, reminded once again of Maria dying after giving birth to Luis. He swallows harshly as he leans against the wall, trying to calm his racing heart. You’re going to give birth soon according to the midwife and each day makes his anxiety threaten to overwhelm him.

Every day that passes, you can see your husband slowly start to unravel. He is sleeping less and worrying about you. Not even allowing you on the stairs without someone. Making you ring a bell to have someone come help you. Most often he works from your chambers, moving his work to your writing desk. You sigh as you slide your hand over your stomach, panting slightly. The pains had started last night but you had kept it from him, knowing he wouldn’t sleep and he desperately needed the rest.

Pero sees Carmen rushing through the halls and she slows down when she sees him. “What’s happening?” He asks, frowning, and the young woman bites her lip. “Tell me.” He demands and Carmen knows she can’t deny him, “she’s having pains. The birth is happening. I must fetch the midwife.” Carmen rushes out and Pero’s eyes widen.

“Fetch the doctor too. I will take no chances.” He says and Carmen nods, rushing off. Pero drops everything he is doing and rushes to your chambers, “esposa. Is it true? You’re having pains?” He asks, eying you in the chair in the corner.

You would deny it, to spare him a bit more time but another pain makes you clutch your stomach. Bending over slightly as you start to moan quietly. It lasts for a long time and by that time you relax, you are panting. “I am.”

Pero rushes over to you. Guiding you over to the bed, “come, you must lay down.” He shakes his head, trying to take your shoes off. “Why didn’t you send for me?” He asks, caressing your ankle as you settle against the pillows.

“You have not been sleeping.” You remind him quietly. “I know you need rest and if I told you, there was not any rest in your future.”

Your whimpers make his heart clench and he shakes his head. “Mi - esposa. Come, do not worry about me. I will worry until the babe is in your arms and you are well and healthy.” His voice wavers for a moment and he wonders if you notice as he wipes your forehead of the beads of sweat.

“It will be well.” The midwife has assured you that you are carrying well for a first time birth and believes that it will be a simple thing. Reaching for his hand, you smile at him softly. “I have already asked that you be allowed in the birthing room if you need.”

Pero is surprised and pleased, kissing your damp forehead. “I won’t leave you.” He promises and brushes his lips against yours. “I’ll be here. Every single second.” He vows as Carmen comes back in with water and a flannel.

You get changed into a clean nightgown, Carmen helping you although you don’t mind your husband being there. He has seen you naked more than your own nanny when you were a child. Getting settled back down into the bed, you grip Pero’s hand and cry out when the next pain washes over you.

Pero lets you squeeze his hand as you try to ride the pain. You whimper and Pero frowns, “where is the midwife?” He asks, starting to get impatient. “And the doctor? I called for him as well.” He growls, looking over at Carmen.

“They are coming, Don Tovar.” She assures him, knowing that he is worried about his wife. Everyone has seen how much the Don has come to care about his wife and they are all happy for him. You are kind and loving and it will be good for him to love again. “The doctor is impressed with your wife and has already said he will come whenever summoned.”

“He needs to be here. I will allow no one to take a singular risk. I won’t have my wife’s health and the baby’s health put in danger.” He hisses and squeezes your hand when you groan at the pain. “Are you - you need anything?” Pero asks, wanting to make sure you have everything you need.

“Water.” You beg quietly. Labor is harder work that you realized and you feel parched from it.

Pero nods and squeezes your hand again. “Whatever you want.” He promises, kissing your hand and rushing over to the tray Carmen had brought you earlier.

Pero returns with the water, letting you sip it and he wipes your forehead with the wet rag Carmen hands him. It seems like the sun is setting when you are finally ready to push. The midwife checking you and announcing it’s time. Pero is terrified, this was the time Maria lost too much blood. He remembers the sheets being soaked with it as Luis cried. He grips your hand, sweat beading on his brow as his heart starts to pound

Clenching your teeth together, you try to make sure that you don’t scream during the next pain. It makes Pero uneasy every time, he pales when you scream and grip his hand as tight as you can. You know that he is scared and even though you are in pain, you’re worried about him.

Pero feels unwell but tries to stay strong, each clenched scream bringing you closer to having his next child and he is terrified. Terrified of losing you. During your marriage, he has grown close to you. Spending many nights in your bed, even if he hadn’t touched you. He can’t imagine his life without you now. “Come on hermosa, you can do it. Push.” He urges you on, wanting you to concentrate.

Nodding, you sit up slightly and start to push. Bearing down with all your might, you see the midwife between your thighs as you start to feel more pressure.

Pero watches you push, his eyes darting between you and the midwife and he’s worried, he’s so scared that he’s gonna lose you. His hand grips yours as he watches you push and he’s silently praying.

“I can’t- it is too much.” You gasp out, falling back against the sheets as you pant.

The midwife clicks her tongue and looks up at you. “One more push, señora, and the bebita will be in your arms.” She promises you. “Next time the pain comes you push as hard as you can.”

“You can do it, hermosa. You can do it.” He eggs you on, sweat beading on his forehead as he watches you struggle. “Come on, mi amor. Come on.” He says, wiping your forehead.

You close your eyes, tears leaking out of the corners as you barely hear the words that you have wished for far longer than you should have. Holding his hand, you nod, bearing down with all your strength and pushing your baby into the world. Feeling them slip from your womb with a rush of relief.

Pero watches the midwife cradle the crying babe, her smile wide and Pero starts to cry, relieved and so happy at seeing his child born. “Felicidades, Don Tovar, it’s a boy.” She announces and Pero leans in to kiss your head.

“A boy, amor,”

“A boy.” You sob, exhausted and relieved and more than a little emotional about hearing ‘amor’ again. Almost terrified that he is thinking of his late wife and reliving that horrible night with a happier ending through you. “We have another son.” You pant, reaching for the baby when the midwife hands him to you.

Pero looks down at the screaming babe in your arms. His eyes sting with tears and he looks at you in awe. “A boy. Another boy.” He murmurs, kissing your forehead. “Amor.”

“He’s beautiful.” You murmur quietly, brushing your hand over his wet forehead. “Perfect.” His ten little fingers are curled into fists and he has ten perfect little toes. “Isn’t he?” You ask, looking up at your husband after you manage to tear your eyes away from your new baby.

Pero leans in to rest his forehead against yours, loving how you are cradling the baby and he knows Luis and Alejandra are excited for his arrival. “He’s perfect. So is his mother.” He murmurs, caressing the baby’s head.

You hum, not sure how to take that and look back down at the baby. He’s turning his face towards you and crying, searching for your breast. “Put him on the breast.” The midwife tells you. “Your milk will come.” You nod, opening your nightgown and guiding him towards your breast and gasping when he latches into your nipple.

Pero watches in awe, the midwife working on helping you with the afterbirth and the baby mouths at your nipple. Pero kisses your forehead again, he’s so perfect. You’re perfect. Hermosa, I- I love you.” Pero chokes, never imagining that he’d fall in love again but he couldn’t help it, you’re too beautiful and kind. The children love you and you’ve made his life so much better.

Your eyes widen and you look up at Pero in shock. “You- you love me?” You ask in astonishment, sure that would never happen for you. He nods and you start to cry. “I love you too Pero, I love you and our three children.”

Pero leans in to kiss you, “I love you. So much. I- I didn’t think - after Maria - you’ve brought this home, my children…me…back to life.” He murmurs and kisses your forehead. “Mi esposa, hermosa, amor. You are everything to me. I owe you the world.” He murmurs, looking down at the little boy.

Your smile is watery, but overjoyed. You had come to Spain to marry a man you didn’t know and was told that he could never love you. Now you have a beautiful son, two other children that adore you and your them, and a loving husband. Your father had chosen right. You were a family.

#pedro pascal #pero tovar #pero tovar x reader #pero tovar x you #pero tovar x f!reader #pero tovar smut #pero tovar fanfic #pero tovar the great wall #regency pero tovar x reader #regency pero tovar #tovar x you #tovar x reader #tovar x f!reader #tovar smut #tovar fanfiction #tovar imagine

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gojonanami · 7 months

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BIGGER THAN THE WHOLE SKY - SATORU GOJO

summary: before his fight, you and satoru have an honest conversation about the future. cw: spoilers for manga (pre-sukuna fight), angst, fluff, discussion of afterlife / rebirth, reader is pregnant, reader is satoru's wife, a/n: i saw the spoilers and i needed angsty fluff - it's more bittersweet than anything. word count: 613

It’s the question you didn’t want to ask.

“Will you make it back to me?” you murmur, your chin leaning on his shoulder. A question engineered with the perfect mixture of anxiety of the impending battle and the lateness of the night. You had barely gotten used to the warmth of his body gracing your bed, his long and thick limbs thrown haphazardly over your body, but you couldn’t imagine your sheets growing cold with his absence.

“A guy gets locked up in a box for a few days, and your wife loses all faith in you, hm?” Satoru noses at the nape of your neck, “I’ll always make it back you, baby — it’s you and me,”

“Toru,” you can’t bear to face him, your eyes squeezing shut and willing the tears burning at your eyelids to leave — but you can’t even manage that much, “this is serious, it isn’t hypothetical anymore — you could, you could—” your voice breaks off.

You always thought you’d be the one to go first. You were a grade 1 sorcerer — but what is a soldier compared to a god? The god that wielded unimaginable power, the god that caused the balance of the world to shift, the god who was meant to save the world — but more than that, he was your husband — the one who made you laugh without fail, the one who had been your best friend from day one, and the one who made you feel safe by just being him, Satoru Gojo, not the strongest, just your husband.

And the mirth leaves his voice, as he forces you to face him, his irises made of skies you couldn’t even imagine never seeing again — “If I don’t make it back, you know I’ll always be waiting for you, in the afterlife or the next one,” he kisses your lips softly, “but I will do everything I can to make it back, sweetheart — and that’s a promise I can make,” and his hand slides up to your stomach, “and if I don’t, at least I left you with the perfect parting gift,”

“Don’t,” and tears slip down your face, “I can’t do this without you,”

You wanted a family, but not a family without him, without him — what was the point? Was there even one if he wasn’t there to raise your child with you?

“Baby, there isn’t a thing you can’t do without me,” he chuckles quietly, “you’d lift the moon with your back and hang the stars for our child without a second thought — because you did the same for me,” his lips are ghosting over every inch of your face, “you saved me, the me that was me,” and his lips find yours, sliding over them, and you taste the cherry candy he was eating earlier, “and the me that loves you is here right now, so let’s focus on that,”

“Satoru Gojo, if you don’t make it back to me, I’m going to kick your ass,” and he laughs, your favorite sound in the absolute world, before he kisses you again, his hands cupping your face so gently — and you remembered the first time he did that, you wondered how someone so strong could be so gentle.

“Somehow, I’m more scared of that than the King of Curses” he teases, a wide grin on his lips, before rolling you over so he is on top of you, his thumb wiping away the evidence of your tears, “thank you,” he kisses your forehead.

“For what?” you smile up at your beautiful, goofy husband, and he only cups your chin, as he leans down to kiss you, his fingers ghosting over your stomach again.

“For everything.”

#jujutsu kaisen #satoru gojo #gojo satoru #jjk #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo fanfiction #gojo fanfiction #satoru gojo fluff #sab [mlist]

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jettingtothemoon · 2 months

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Daughter of the Spirits; chapter 13

➳ pairing: zuko x f!reader ➳ genre: a retelling of the show from season 2 onwards with a heavy focus and expansion on zuko’s story (canon divergent) ➳ warnings: violence, swearing, smut (underaged if your age of consent is above 16), spoilers for anyone who hasn’t seen the show ➳ word count: 2644 ➳ rating: 18+ ➳ summary: In which y/n comes across the fire nation prince during her stay in Ba Sing Se. ➳ tags: @harmlessoffering @lammello @hannahdinse8 @ok-boke @stranger-chan @nekee-lilac02 @inutheangel @kalea-gooch (i’m sorry if i’m forgetting anyone, lmk if i am or if you want to be added)

Chapters: 01, 02, 03, 04, 05, 06, 07, 08, 09, 10, 11, 12, 13,

Forgiveness

By the time morning came, he was determined to make things right. Toph had come to see the two of you last night despite everything and that was something. If she hadn’t, you and Zuko would have already been on your way to the Earth Kingdom to begin your search for your lost loved ones. But she had and that had given Zuko hope.

Even if they were only going to turn him away again, he wanted to make sure Toph was alright and to at least try and apologise for what had happened.

“There they are.” Zuko almost smiled when he spotted the Avatar and his group but settled for a sigh of relief when he saw that their young Earthbender was okay, sitting with her feet in a nice pool of cooling water.

Your heart caught in your chest, however, when you spotted another figure also looking down on the group with a sinister look in his eyes. “Um, Zuko…”

The prince followed your eyes and widened his own when they landed on the man. Without a second thought, he grabbed a nearby vine and swung through the air towards the figure. His foot connected with the side of the man’s face just as what seemed to be some strange force of power shot from the centre of his forehead, redirecting his aim to the rocks above the Avatar and his friends. When it collided, a large explosion shook the very ground they stood on.

You didn’t need to think before you were following after him, landing behind him as he marched towards the assailant.

“Stop!” he cried, “I don’t want you hunting the avatar anymore!” He ran in front of the man, blocking his line of attack. “The mission is off! I’m ordering you to stop!”

He only shoved Zuko away and fired another shot at the Avatar, taking out a piece of the fountain next to them. You looked between Zuko and the Avatar before leaping into the air and grabbing another vine, swinging down to help the group who were currently at the assassin's mercy. Zuko would have to manage on his own for now.

“Let me help!” you cried out as you landed, using water from the fountain to soften the blow.

Katara scowled at you for a moment before her expression softened and she nodded, allowing you to slip in beside them to take cover. You could hear Zuko still trying to reason with the mercenary as you looked around, trying to find a way out or at the very least something else to hide behind.

You braced when another explosion hit the ground beside you and looked up in time to see the assassin fire a shot directly towards Zuko, who used his firebending to ward off the attack. It hadn’t been enough, however, and with a cloud of smoke he was gone, pushed off the edge entirely.

“Zuko!” you cried out and jumped to your feet, already looking to see if he had survived the fall somehow.

Aang climbed up beside you and began running, conjuring a gust of wind to block the next attack before hurling a tornado towards the attacker. You ran with him as the assassin leapt closer, focusing his attacks solely on the young Avatar, who evaded just in time.

You wasted not a second in launching a large boulder into the air, flinging it directly towards the assassin just as he shot another of his explosive attacks. When the explosion hit the ground beside you all once again, Katara launched a ferocious attack while Aang looked at you in shock. So she hadn’t told him, you thought. But why?

You ran and hid with the others, waiting for the next explosion to hit as you all tried to think of a way out of this mess.

“You’re an Earthbender? But I’ve seen you waterbend!” Aang accused, although there was no malicious intent in his eyes. “How did you do it?”

You shrugged and yelled over the crashing sound of falling rock, “I don’t know, I just can!”

“He’s going to blast this whole place right off the cliffside!” Toph cried from where she sat, cutting your conversation short.

Katara peered around the corner only to quickly take cover again as another explosive force shot through the air. “I can’t step out to waterbend at him without getting blown up! And I can’t get a good enough angle on him from down here!”

Her brother thought for a moment before exclaiming, “I know how to get an angle on him!”

Drawing his boomerang, he swapped places with Katara and poked his head around the corner only to be met with yet another attack. You watched him with furrowed brows as he waited for another two shots. With narrowed eyes, he seemed to be measuring them and, when he was satisfied, he pulled his boomerang back.

“Alright buddy, don’t fail me now.” With that, he launched the boomerang into the air and it hit the assassin slap bang in the middle of his third, tattooed eye.

He fell to the ground with a thump and you all ran out from where you had been hiding. Sokka caught his boomerang when it returned with glee only for all of your lips to frown once again when the assassin began to pull himself back to his feet.

You ran again, retreating as he tried to fire another shot, but when it came it was not you who was its target. The force of Sokka’s attack seemed to have affected the assassin’s ability and he was the one hit, exploding from the inside out.

With the fight now over and everyone staring in shock, you ran towards the edge of the cliff you were standing on and spotted Zuko hanging from another vine. Relief rushed through you and you let out a breath as he climbed back to the surface above him.

You rushed to his side when he approached the group, your eyes already running over him as you checked for any lasting injuries.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this,” the Avatar began, “But thanks Zuko.”

“Hey, what about me?” Sokka huffed, putting his hands on his hips, “I did the boomerang thing.”

“Listen, I know I didn’t explain myself very well yesterday. I’ve been through a lot in the past few years and it’s been hard, but I’m realising that I had to go through all those things to learn the truth. I thought I had lost my honour, and that somehow my father could return it to me, but I know now that no one can give you your honour. It’s something you earn for yourself by choosing to do what’s right. All I want now is to play my part in ending this war, and I know my destiny is to help you restore balance to the world”

You smiled and folded your arms patiently over your chest, proud of Zuko for finally being able to put everything he had wanted to say into words.

He turned to Toph and bowed, expressing his respect for her and shame for what he had done. “I’m sorry for what I did to you. It was an accident. Fire can be dangerous and wild so as a Firebender, I need to be more careful and control my bending so I don’t hurt people unintentionally.”

Something he said seemed to resonate with the Avatar, who you could only assume had tried firebending himself at some point or another, as he finally seemed to be coming around to the idea of Zuko training him.

“I think you are supposed to be my firebending teacher. When I first tried to learn firebending, I burned Katara, and after that I never wanted to firebend again. But now I know you understand how easy it is to hurt the people you love, I’d like you to teach me.” Aang bowed as Zuko had done before.

All the prince could do was smile and return the gesture. “Thank you. I’m so happy you’ve accepted me — us — into your group.”

“Not so fast, I still have to ask my friends if it’s okay with them,” Aang explained before turning to their Earthbender. “Toph, you’re the one that Zuko burned. What do you think?”

The young girl thought for a split second before shrugging. “Go ahead and let him join, it’ll give me plenty of time to get back at him for burning my feet.”

You chuckled slightly at her remark, smiling back at her when she jokingly pounded her hand against her fist.

“Sokka?”

The Watertribe boy shrugged as well. “Hey, all I want is to defeat the Firelord. If you think this is the way to do it, then I’m all for it.”

Your smile widened and you met Sokka’s gaze, bowing your head in gratitude.

All eyes turned to the final member of their team as the Avatar approached her. “Katara?”

You could see the sweat running across Zuko’s face as he awaited her decision, anxious to hear what she was going to say. It was clear to you then that she was the one he had hurt the most. She had been the one who had once believed in him as you do now.

Although she scowled, she too agreed with her brother. “I’ll go along with whatever you think is right.”

Zuko grinned and marched forward. “I won’t let you down, I promise!”

No one replied before turning their backs on the two of you and heading inside the temple but Zuko’s smile didn’t fall. He had finally convinced them and found himself on the right side of history.

You placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, squeezing it as you too passed him and headed inside. When Zuko didn’t follow, you could only assume he had headed back to your camp to retrieve his supplies. Not that you minded, you were actually grateful for a moment to speak with the group alone.

Sokka placed Toph down but before Katara could begin healing the young girl’s feet again, you knelt on the floor beside them and asked, “May I? My mother taught me how to heal to help with the war, she said it was the only thing women were allowed to learn in the Northern Watertribe.”

Katara’s face softened ever so slightly and she stepped aside to let you work. “You’ve never been? I thought you were from the Northern Watertribe?”

You shook your head as you began to gently work your magic to help speed up the healing of Toph’s feet. “My parents left before I was born. I grew up in Omashu.”

“Omashu?” Katara questioned with a hint of concern in her voice.

Your own mood dropped as you hummed in reply. “They’re still there I think. They made me leave when the city was attacked. It’s how I came across Zuko actually. I met him not long after I became a refugee and journeyed to Ba Sing Se.”

“When he and his uncle were spying in that tea shop,” she huffed and you could all but see the scowl on her face as you continued your ministrations on Toph’s feet.

“They weren’t spying. They were just trying to lie low. They actually almost stayed there before—”

“Yes, yes, before his psycho sister attacked and almost killed Aang, we get it.” Toph sighed, clearly fed up with your conversation. “Can we focus on healing my feet?”

You chuckled, somewhat thankful that she put a pause on your conversation before Katara had time to get truly angry.

“You’ll need a few more healing sessions but your feet should be better before you know it.”

“Good, just keep that fireboy of yours as far away from my feet.” She laughed again, trying to lighten the already thickening mood between you and Katara.

When Zuko returned, Sokka took the two of you to what had been picked out as your new room — your very own place of refuge in the Air Temple.

“So, here you go. Home sweet home. I guess, you know, for now.” He followed the two of you into the room but remained a few paces back by the door. “Unpack, lunch soon. Uh… welcome aboard?”

Zuko turned slightly and nodded with a small smile. His people skills still needed some work.

You smiled more sincerely at Sokka before he left and thanked him properly but you could still tell he seemed a little uncomfortable with the two of you around — especially Zuko.

While Zuko unpacked his things, you found yourself laying back on the bed. The room was a nice size and almost too big for how empty it was but it was certainly comfortable for an abandoned Air Temple. Somehow it reminded you of that small room you and Zuko had shared back in Ba Sing Se. You supposed it was more the atmosphere than anything else. Not to mention this was the first time he’d truly been himself since you knew him back then.

You longed to be back there with him. You wished you could have taken him to Omashu and introduced him to your parents. It would certainly take some adjusting but they would like him, you were sure.

When you sat up beside Zuko again, he was holding a portrait of his uncle. You knew he missed him dearly and wanted nothing more than to make things right with him as well. He still blamed himself for Iroh’s imprisonment but you knew the old man only surrendered because he wanted to be near Zuko. Because he knew he needed him and because he still believed in him. The two of you would see him again and you knew that when that day came, Iroh would welcome his nephew back with open arms.

“When I was last here, I was with my uncle,” he spoke with a tender voice. “He told me destiny is a funny thing and that you never know how things will turn out. But by keeping both an open mind and an open heart, I would find my own destiny some day. I guess today was that day.”

You smiled with him and rested your head on his shoulder, as you ran your fingers through the hair on the back of his head. You only moved apart when he noticed someone standing in the doorway and stood up from your side.

Katara stood with her arms crossed and an ugly scowl on her face. “You might have everyone else here buying your ‘transformation’ but you and I both know you’ve struggled with doing the right thing in the past.”

She marched in to confront him while you remained seated, listening to what it was she had to say. “So let me tell you something right now. You make one step backward, one slip up, give me one reason to think you might hurt Aang, and you won’t have to worry about your destiny anymore because I’ll make sure your destiny ends. Right then and there, permanently.”

She spared you one small, ferocious glance before turning on her heels and marching back out of the room, slamming the door shut behind her. Only then did you climb off of the bed and wrap an arm around Zuko, pulling him to you as he stood deflated.

“She’s never going to trust me.” He leaned into your embrace with a deep sigh.

“She’ll come around,” you assured him and ran a soothing hand across his back, “She just needs time. For now, just focus on teaching Aang.”

He hummed and pulled you with him to lay down on the bed, burying his head into your chest as his body curled around you. For now, before any of that, he just needed to get lost in your comforting embrace.

Chapters: 01, 02, 03, 04, 05, 06, 07, 08, 09, 10, 11, 12, 13,

#zuko x you #zuko x reader #prince zuko x you #prince zuko x reader #prince zuko #zuko smut #zuko angst #zuko fanfic #atla zuko #zuko fluff #atla #zuko avatar the last airbender #netflix avatar #avatar the last airbender #the last airbender

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fir3ylolol · 6 months

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break up, make up

pairing: Johnny Cage x Reader

summary: You and Johnny didn't end your relationship on a good note. You've successfully avoided him, but what happens when you both end up at the same bar??

word count: 2.46 k

tw: Vaginal sex, oral sex, cunnilingus, afab!reader, gn pronouns, dom!reader, sub!johnny cage, forgiveness, make up sex, vaginal penetration, grinding, semi-public sex, begging, mentions of cheating, making out, no spoilers, he's so pussywhipped dude, praise kink, no other canon characters, smut, shameless smut, porn with plot

a/n: I've never really written fic b4 so I hope it's not shit. Slightly inspired by 3d-wifey, they are an actually good writer

Ao3

Johnny stared daggers at you from across the room. Why did he have to show up here? It had been a couple of months since you two split up and this was the first time you’d seen each other since. All you wanted was a nice night out with friends, which was already hard enough. But there he is, just 1000 feet away.

It hadn’t been easy. You had been with him for over a year and for the most part, it was fine. Despite his career and fame, he managed to find plenty of time for you. He loved to spoil you, spend time with you, and show his love wholeheartedly. That was until he had a long shoot overseas. He promised that everything would be fine and nothing would change. After 2 long months, he finally returned. But something felt off. He didn’t hold you like he used to, spent less time at home, and you didn’t see the love in his eyes anymore. A very dramatic breakup ensued, complete with tears and screaming from both of you. You moved out and quickly lost contact. Trying to cope as article after article about him returning to his ‘playboy lifestyle’ came out, you decided that he wasn’t worth your time, that he killed the relationship because he was bored of you. And so you tried your hardest, knowing that running into him again was unlikely. He’s too busy being famous, right?

Right?

Wrong.

Because there he was, same old Johnny, in a red button-up shirt with the arms rolled up and the top two buttons undone. Black slacks straining against his thighs, expensive watch glistening in the low light of the club. And, fuck, that look on his face. You couldn’t fully read it, and you weren’t sure if you were scared or interested.

Trying not to look at him, you brush off your clothes. You want to seem cool, calm, unbothered. Something you weren’t. But you weren’t turning around again to look. You just laugh with your friends and continue to enjoy your night. Until…

“Why, hello there dear,” his familiar voice rang out in your ears. You froze, the familiarity and warmth were something you hadn’t heard in a very long time. Slowly turning, you meet his eyes, trying, and failing, to hide your nerves. But when you meet his eyes, you can’t read anything. His words are cool, calm, and suave, but his eyes? Ice cold. It made you feel worse. You manage to utter a “Hello Johnny” as he stands there, his presence looming. Your friends look to you for guidance, but you nod, letting them know you’re fine. But they take that to mean, ‘you can leave now’, because they walk away, leaving you alone with him.

The exact opposite thing of what you wanted, honestly.

But it's too late for that. You take a deep breath and look directly at him, trying to seem brave. He leans against the table, looking around before sitting down across from you. “So, why are you out tonight? Trying to find another guy to disappoint?” His words cut deep, harsh accusations that offend you. “Excuse me?” you question, leaning towards him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Don’t act innocent, we both know you’re not,” He scoffs, leaning back in his chair and looking at the crowd. You scrunch your face up in frustration, feeling the anger bubble up inside you. “You know, you’re not exactly innocent either. You leave for 2 months, you don’t talk to me once, and when you’re finally back, you treat me like shit! I honestly preferred it when you were gone, at least then I didn’t feel like complete garbage.” You try not to cry, unable to stop your eyes from watering. Your words seem to soften Johnny slightly, as he looks back and seems more awkward than angry. “What do you mean? I didn’t do that.” “WHAT?” you nearly yell, surprising yourself and him. “You came back a different person! You weren’t the man I fell in love with anymore. You were cold and cruel, just like you are now.” You reach for your bag and move to stand up and leave, but he nearly dives across the table, grabbing your arm. “Wait, wait, please don’t go. I’m sorry. Please just…let me explain.”

You slowly sit back down, shrugging out of his grip, and stare at him, waiting. He finally seems nervous, scratching the back of his neck. “I won’t beat around the bush. I thought that while I was gone, you were cheating on me.” He looks away, clearly ashamed. “I don’t know why. I didn’t have proof. I just…I’m used to people leaving a lot sooner than you, so I assumed the worst. I didn’t think I acted that poorly, but I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve that. I’ll just leave you alone now.” His head hung slightly in shame, he started to stand.

But now it's your turn to stop him, gently taking his arm and making him sit down again. You both pause, waiting for the other to speak. Quietly, you begin to laugh, your whole body shaking. You manage to get out a muffled, “We’re so stupid.” He slowly starts laughing as well, both of you absorbing the absurdity of the situation. After a bit, you both calm down, managing to speak again. You learn that he’s been cast in a new show and that the rumors spreading around have been untrue. He learns about how you’ve been, your true interest in how you are shining through.

“Hey, you look really good, you know?” He gently takes your hand and stares into your eyes. All of a sudden, the mood shifts. Reconnecting with him has reconnected something else, something you didn’t quite expect. His words rest heavily in the air, trying to gauge how you’re feeling. You look into his eyes, the kindness and care he used to show you returning. “You look good too. Better than I remember, honestly.” He laughs, touching your arm more. “I always look this good baby.”

His eyes, now half-lidded and sultry, beckon you closer. You decide to be brave, take initiative. You get up from your seat, standing next to him. Still holding his hand, you pull him up. “Yeah? Wanna show me if everything else stayed the same?” You coax him up, getting closer to him. His smile grows wider, and he stands up and wraps his arms around your waist. “Gladly, baby.” You wave to your friends, who honestly can’t tell if it’s the right thing to let you go with him, but decide to let you. If it’s a mistake, at least you’ll learn from it.

He leads you to his car, a sleek black sports car parked in the virtually empty private parking lot out back. The perks of being famous apparently include better parking. He unlocks the door, letting you sit down first. He climbs into the driver’s seat, turning his body to look at you. “So, my place or yours-” Before he can finish that thought, you reach over, grabbing his face and kissing him gently. He is clearly shocked but quickly leans into it, growing more passionate by the minute. He turns and grabs your hips, trying to get you closer to him. You didn’t realize how completely touch-starved and needy you were until right then. You pull away and take a breath, panting lightly in sync with him. Your hand travels down his chest slowly, dancing towards his crotch. You feel his breath hitch under you, lightly whimpering at the feeling.

Lightly brushing against him and teasing him further, he starts to grow needier, pleading eyes looking directly at you. “Please…please love…” he whines out. You decide to be nice, but not that nice. Slowly unzipping his fly and freeing him, he hisses at the feeling of the cool air in the car. Gently taking him into your hand, you truly forgot how big he is. You lean over, spitting onto his dick and slowly stroking him. He starts to moan lightly, flinching as you flick your wrist over the tip. “Ah-h! H-heyy…stop teasing…” he looks through his lashes, desperation evident.

Finally giving in, you lean down, taking as much of him into his mouth as you can at this angle. He gasps, leaning back and biting his finger to stop himself from being too loud. You look up, wide eyes meeting his. You lift your head, taking a deep breath. “Don’t quiet yourself. I wanna hear those pretty moans, baby.” His eyes lightly roll back at your words, moaning louder when you return to his weeping cock, keeping a quick, almost torturous, pace. He shakily reaches out to grab your head, not forcing you down, just feeling you and trying to remain stable.

You lift your head again, kissing him hard and rough. He desperately tries to keep up, lips slipping against yours messily. You take his hand, leading it down to your crotch. “Touch me, love. Please, I need it.” You rasp out, making him shiver. As he reaches into your underwear, he nearly melts at the feeling of how wet you are. His fingers gently curl into you, feeling you pulse around him hungrily. He gently pulls his hand out, looking at the slick on his fingers before shoving them in his mouth greedily. Groaning at the taste, he reaches his free hand out to grab your thighs, feeling your soft skin under his desperate touch. “Mmfph, alwaysh taste so goodf me,” he tries to speak with his fingers still in his mouth, not wanting to stop. He tries again to taste more but you stop him, to many protests.

But they quickly stop when you take you underwear off, slipping it out from under you and tossing them in the back seat. “Push your seat back,” you state casually, but you both know it’s a command. Hurriedly, he scrambles for the seat controls, moving himself as far back as possible. He looks to you, then down at himself. He pulls his pants and underwear down further, then looks to you excitedly. Carefully, you reach your right leg over him, straddling his lap. You can feel him throb against your leg, impossibly fast, and the wetness he can’t seem to stop. You pause, looking down at him. “I want to hear you say you want this before I do anything. If this is how we rekindle our relationship, it’s starting on a good note. And if not, then it’ll end on one. But I need to hear you say it.”

Quickly, he grabs at your thighs, tight grip digging into you. “Yes, yes, please. I need you. I’ve missed you so bad and, and just want to be with you right now. I need it. I need you. Please…” His desperate pleas and pathetic expression shoot to your core, you can feel yourself growing even wetter. That was all the motivation you need as you lift yourself up and grab his dick, lining it up with teasing touches against you, earning groans and gasps every time. Finally, you start to sink down, wincing. It’s been a while and Johnny is a lot to handle. But he doesn’t notice. His head is thrown back, strings of long whines, moans, and other pornstar sounds pouring from his mouth. His sounds are motivation enough as you sink down as far as possible. It’s like you knocked the wind out of him, gasps are all you get out of him for now. You take a second to adjust further.

Then, you begin to move. Hips rocking back and forth, forehead pressed into his shoulder. You speed up, bouncing on him as you basically use him. It’s not like he minds, whimpers echoing through the car, hands death gripping onto your ass as you ride him. He genuinely can’t control himself, babbling near nonsense. You can make out a few of the words he’s saying in your ear. “Love”, “s’good”, “missed this”, and “feel incredible” is about it amongst the uncontrollable moans. You can definitely tell that it's been a long time. I mean, he’s usually pretty whiny, but this takes the cake.

He manages to get a solid couple of sentences out in his fucked out state, wrapping his arms around you like a hug. “I missed you so bad, I knew it was a mistake. No one that feels this good could be bad. I missed being yours, missed having you use me like this. I love it, I love you.” His hips jerk upwards without rhythm, desperate to get off. His words egg you on further, speeding up and absolutely shaking the car. His grip on you tightens as you can tell he’s about to cum. You whisper shakily into his ear, “Come on baby, cum for me. Be a good boy for me.” With that, he finishes with a loud cry, a death grip around you and shaking thighs. He trembles beneath you, still sensitive from the comedown. You smooth out his hair, brushing the hairs stuck to his forehead from sweat. Still fuzzyheaded, he kisses you tenderly, full of love.

You slowly climb off and get back in your seat, catching your breath. But you don’t have long, as Johnny grabs your leg and twists you. Exposing you as you lean against the car door, you barely have time to think before he dives in, eating you out with such fervor that you genuinely can’t believe he got down there that fast. After his sweet words and all that you’ve done, you’re not that far from the edge. He hasn’t forgotten all the ways to make you cum though, as he quickly gets you even closer. He rubs his nose against your clit, causing you to jump at the sensitivity. But then, his head backs up slightly, which you can’t take at this moment. You have to finish. You grab his head, fingers tangling in his hair, and fuck his face hard. He is moaning again at this point, your pleasure gets him off just as much as his own. You lose the ability to think about anything but cumming, your sole goal. Finally, you finish, your grip on him loosening. But he stays just as close, burying his face in you and lapping up your cum mixed with his.

He finally pulls away, both of you gasping for air. You are suddenly much more thankful for being parked in a more secluded area. After what feels like forever, you turn and whisper out, “Am I as good as you remember?” Turning his head, he laughs and whispers, “Better than I remembered.”

#johnny cage #johnny cage x reader #johnny cage smut #mk1 #mortal kombat 1 #mortal kombat #x reader #afab reader #johnny cage mk1 #mk1 smut #mk1 x reader #sub!johnny cage #dom!reader

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itjazzbicch · 7 months

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Safe Haven

Pairing: Tomas “Smoke” Vrbada x Reader

First time writing for Smoke so I hope I did well!

Summary: Originally brought into the Lin Kuei as the reader was arranged to marry Bi-Han, they learn that he is not the man they thought him to be and when he goes off the deep end, the reader seeks help from someone in the Lin Kuei that they have true feelings for…

Warnings: Arranged marriage situation, MK1 Spoilers obvi, reader has a break down

Word Count: 0.7k

Being arranged to marry Bi-Han of the Lin Kuei, I thought this new chapter of my life would be the beginning of many good ones.

That turned out to be far from what I expected. Bi-Han wasn’t exactly the lover that I was looking for.

Although he became grandmaster and I was soon to be his spouse, he had business to handle with Lord Lui Kang and I had no knowledge of what exactly was going on.

Not till Bi-Han returned, claiming his brothers Kuai Liang and Tomas were no longer a part of the Lin Kuei, and that he’d no longer be working with Lord Lui Kang.

Any question I had, he didn’t answer, told me that it was none of my concern.

Bi-Han wasn’t exactly the man I dreamed of being with my entire life. I already doubts in the past and this was my breaking point.

He must’ve forgotten that I was a highly skilled martial artist like himself. One night when he finally rested, I snuck out, needing to find Tomas.

I learned that he and Kuai were making their own clan, the Shirai Ryu, and looking to take down Bi-Han and restore the Lin Kuei.

There was so much I needed to get off my chest and I knew I could do so with Tomas. Out of their entire clan, I bonded with him the most and I knew that he’d help me.

It didn’t take me long to reach the Shirai Ryu’s minka, stumbling upon a beautiful garden full of red trees, lit in the night by lanterns.

“Y/N?” Tomas’s voice alone had me ready to burst into tears, running to him, “What are you doing here? How did you find this place?”

“I’ve been following you, but it’s not what you think,” I said quickly, fighting tears and running out of breath, “I can’t stand Bi-Han anymore. I can’t take it. I don’t want to marry him. I don’t want to be in his Lin Kuei anymore.”

“Y/N, breathe. Try to calm down,” Holding my shoulders, trying his best to comfort me, “Are you-“

I already knew what he was going to ask and cut him off with tears flowing down my face:

“I’m positive and mean every word I say, Tomas. You don’t know him like I do and just how terrible he is. I don’t want to go back. Please-“

“Shh, it’s okay,” He whispered, pulling me into a warm hug, “I believe you.”

His hug was everything I needed and more, my tears slowed and after some deep breaths, I didn’t feel so weak and brittle anymore, answering his question from before:

“I have been doing work of my own while Bi-Han has been gone. That’s how I found this place. So I could come talk to you.”

“Showing off your skill I see,” He smiled while rubbing my back, trying to raise my spirit, holding up my head some to connect a gaze, growing serious again as he asked, “I know you’re upset and dealing with a lot right now, but everything you said, you’re sure that you mean it?”

“Tomas,” I breathed in deeply, failing at fighting my tears as I confessed, “He’s never loved me. The only thing that kept me there was you, b-because, I love you.”

I didn’t realize at first how big his pupils expanded, my heart pouring and continuing to confess:

“You’re the one who always made sure that I was okay, spent time with me, made me feel special, instead of treating me like some object. I’m sorry I waited till now to tell you. I was just so scared of Bi-Han and now he’s completely lost it and I didn’t know who else to go to.”

“It’s okay,” He breathed, thinking and pulling back into his hug, his whisper making me cry silently, “Im so glad that you came to me.”

The tears wouldn’t stop coming, shaking as a chilled wind blew past us in the garden, but those shakes coming to halt as his embrace grew a bit tighter and warmer, his voice helping me ease down:

“You don’t have to worry about Bi-Han anymore. You never have to go back. Never.”

“I don’t know what I’d do with you,” I whispered, looking up from his shoulder as he whispered back:

“Don’t trouble yourself thinking about it. I love you too much to let you go back to that monster of a man.”

2023 © itjazzbicch — do not repost or translate my work. Likes, reblogs, and comments are always welcome

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starlost97 · 9 months

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— stubbornness.

summary: You just got home from the hospital, and are still learning how to walk properly again. You knew at the moment that you woke up from the surgery that Buck wouldn’t leave you alone. And you were right. He only went back to work when he couldn’t take any more days off, even though you insisted that he shouldn’t worry about you. The thing is, you are very stubborn, and it became even more obvious when you couldn’t do things on your own, but still wanted to.

keywords: fluff, recovery, stubbornness, worried Evan Buckley, f!reader.

characters: Evan Buckley, Maddie Buckley.

warnings: allergic reaction, swearing, author’s medical knowledge is very very bad.

a/n: I got this idea after watching an episode of 911: Lone Star (no spoilers here, though), also searching epi-pen and paramedics aesthetic wasn't on my bingo card this year lol.

word count: 1,438.

requested?: no!

Once more, you opened your eyes and felt a sharp pain when trying to move. You always forgot about your legs.

“Oh, fuck.” You murmured, trying to be as quiet as possible. You didn’t want to alarm Buck even more on his first day back to work. “Buck?” You called, hearing noises of things being stumbled on and quick steps on the stairs soon after.

“Honey, hi!” He said, almost falling on the ground when rushing to the bedroom. “Here, let me help you.” Buck grabbed your waist and carefully got you out of bed. “Are you sure that’s ok for me to go back to work?”

“I promise, babe, it’s fine. I can take care of myself while you work.” You said, caressing his hair and cupping his face with your free hand. His blue eyes finding yours. You could tell that he was worried, but you knew how much he wanted to go back to work.

“You can call me anytime, ok? If I don’t pick up, someone will.” He hugged you and kissed your cheek, making you laugh.

“You’re going to be late, Buck.” You said as he trailed kisses down your neck.

“I love you, ok? See you tomorrow.” He said, kissing your lips and leaving the bedroom.

“Love you too!” You said, catching a glimpse of his smile as he went down the stairs. You waited until you heard the front door closing to start getting ready.

People always talked about how Buck was a workaholic, but they didn’t notice how you were just as bad as him. In the last weeks, you didn’t have the chance to leave the house and go to work, since Buck wouldn’t leave your side. But now, with your boyfriend going on a 24 hour shift, you had plenty of time.

You got ready as fast as you could and left the house, driving to the Los Angeles Service Center.

As soon as you arrived, you received a message from Buck asking if everything was ok. You smiled at your phone and answered, saying that there’s no need to worry.

You got to your floor, using a walking stick to get to your desk, which was right beside Maddie’s, so you knew she would see you there soon. But you were prepared to argue why she shouldn’t tell Buck you were there.

As soon as you sat down, you heard a familiar voice calling you by your full name, which would have startled you if you weren’t expecting it

“Maddie! You look so pretty today, you know that?” You said, smiling at her.

“You are unbelievable. Does Buck know you’re here?” She asked, crossing her arms.

“... No, and you’re not going to tell him.” Maddie opened her mouth to answer, but you were faster. “And you own me one, remember? I didn’t tell Chimney that you came in sick when he had specifically told you not to.”

“Well, it’s different. You are recovering from a surgery, when I was just a little constipated.” She said, putting her hands on her hips.

“You still said that you owned me one, so I’m claiming that favor now.”

Maddie looked at you up and down, trying to decide if you were being serious or not. Usually, you would hold onto a favor for dear life until you wanted something nearly impossible. Getting back to work was something that would happen eventually, so all you had to do was wait.

But you couldn’t wait anymore. At home, everytime you heard your phone ringing you got excited because it reminded you of work. It was pathetic. Before becoming a dispatcher, you always judged Buck for being so obsessed with being a firefighter. Being a nurse was good, and you loved helping people, but you got too overwhelmed at the end of the shifts with all those people around you.

“Look, I will be careful. It’s not like I will be moving much, right?” You could see Maddie holding her laugh.

“You do have a point.” She said as she sat right beside you, preparing for the first call of the shift.

Time passed, and you tried very hard to not talk on the radio when the 118 was attending the calls. Sometimes you heard Buck speaking and smiled, trying not to talk to him as you always did. You got used to having conversations while he did things that didn’t really require his full attention, and he loved doing that too. It was something that helped him a lot when he needed to relax.

As the day went by, you got more relaxed. You and Maddie shared lunch, and she helped you change your bandages.

“Everything looks great, honey.” She said as she finished, making sure that the medical tape was well put on your back. “Buck is doing a great job taking care of you.” You smiled at the comment.

“You know, the moment I woke up from the surgery, I knew that he wouldn’t leave me alone.”

“He was so scared, honey. He wouldn’t leave your side.” She said as she started to walk back to her desk with you.

“He is a sweetheart, Maddie.” You said, sitting on your chair. “Even though I missed working, he made sure to make those weeks enjoyab-” Before you could finish your sentence, you heard a loud bang, followed by screams. You looked around and found one of the new dispatchers unconscious on the floor.

You and Maddie went as quick as possible — considering you were using a walking stick — to the girl, who looked like was having an allergic reaction. You asked someone to bring the medical kit, hoping to find an epi-pen.

“Nothing here.” Maddie said, looking at you, worried.

“Look at her bag! She might have brought it with her.”

You soon started to hear sirens, but you didn't think anything about it. Your focus was on the girl.

“She's here!” You heard Sue say, hearing footsteps coming in your direction.

“We think it's an allergic reaction, but we don't have any epi-pen.” Maddie said, making space for the paramedics.

“You are right. Chimney, give her some epi.” Hen said, measuring her heart rate.

You got up, standing right beside Maddie and putting your hand on her shoulder for support. You both were worried about the girl. It took you a minute until you realized that Buck was in the same room as you.

You waited until the girl woke up, which didn't take long. Hen and Chimney explained to her what happened, and she agreed to go to the hospital to get checked. This was the perfect moment to try to hide from your boyfriend, but you weren't fast enough.

“Y/N?!” You heard your boyfriend say, just as you were trying to get away.

“Hi, Buck.” You said, turning to his direction. “How's your day going?”

“What the hell are you doing here? You should be at home!” He said, looking worriedly at you, holding your hands.

“I was just getting some things with Maddie!” You lied, looking at your friend, who agreed with her head.

“Why are you in uniform, then?” He asked, crossing his arms, staring at you. You could see Chimney and Eddie looking at Hen, who had a smug smile on her face.

“Pay up.” She said, looking as both of the firefighters picked up their wallets.

“Buck, I’m fine! I swear. And there’s lots of well trained people here to take care of me if something goes wrong. Maddie even helped me change my bandages!” You said, and your boyfriend looked at his sister, who gave him an awkward smile.

Buck looked at you hesitantly before tilting his head and biting the inside of his cheek.

“I guess I can’t make you go home, huh?” He said, smiling slightly and caressing your cheek with his thumb. “Look, please be careful, ok? Promise me that you will take any pain seriously. I don't want you getting any worse.” He smiled at you, kissing your lips.

“I promise, Buck.”

“And now that I know you're here, I want to hear your voice through the radio, ok?” You smiled, confirming with your head.

“I miss doing that.”

“Me too.”

“Ok, lovebirds, let's go. And I'm talking to you too, Chimney.” Hen said, startling Maddie and the firefighter.

“I gotta go, bae. I'll see you home.” Buck said, quickly kissing you before running through the door with the 118. “Love you!”

“Love you too!”

And just like that you spend the rest of your shift talking with your boyfriend through the radio.

Sometimes being stubborn pays off.

#evan buckley x reader #buck buckley #evan buckley x you #evan buckley/reader #evan buck buckley #evan buckley x female reader #evan buckley fanfic #evan buckley #911 evan buckley #evan buckley x y/n #evan buckley imagine #evan buckley 911 #evan buck buckely #911 x reader #buck 911 #911onfox #911 on fox

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system-to-the-madness · 1 month

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Cherry Blossom Interventions 🌸 Fushiguro Megumi x Reader

Pairing: Fushiguro Megumi x Reader (can be read as any gender, no pronouns used) Genre: hurt/comfort – angst to fluff Word Count: 3 271 Warnings: SPOILER for up to chapter 253, suicidal tendencies and implications (Megumi), mentions of death and depression Summary: Megumi has drawn back from everyday life completely, so you intervene A/N: Sorry for the late post; life happened. Played volleyball with friends, went to eat sushi, went running with the same friends, went to Maces, and then to a foot Onsen.

Sakura Festival Masterlist - Masterlist

"Why am I here?"

You stopped in your tracks and turned around to Megumi. He was standing underneath a cherry blossom tree when a cool breeze of spring air swept through his hair, carrying pink petals that caught in his black strands. His hair was shorter than it had been in autumn; not by much but the difference was still noticeable. You wondered whether he had cut it to not resemble the version of himself Sukuna had turned him into.

“You know why you are here,” you answered him, ignoring the frown on his brow. “This is an intervention.”

“What kind of intervention,” he asked back, clearly starting to get upset.

“What kind of intervention do you think it is?”

“Whatever it is, I’m not interested.” Megumi was already turning away from you again when you called out for him.

“We are worried,” you told him, almost shouting.

He just scoffed.

“Who is we?”

“Yūji, me, Toge, Maki, Yūta” you replied. “Panda, too, and Ieiri-sensei. Ever since December, ever since that last fight. Do you think we don’t know what's been going on with you? Do you think we don't know you've been skipping therapy and meals. We know you're just holed up in your room the whole day. We know you don't want to be here; you don't want to be with us anymore-”

“Then why can't you let me be?”

His shout made you flinch, but you had faced scarier things than an upset classmate.

“Because we care,” you shouted back. “We care too much to let you ruin your life like this! Don't misunderstand: We are not making light of the situation you were in - you are in. We understand that none of us could ever possibly imagine the things you have gone through, but you cannot ask us to let our friend die, who we fought so hard to save. You can't ask that of us!”

Megumi just rolled his eyes. “And what about what I want? What about the things I want,” he asked.

“For once, you don't get to say in this,” you shook your head. “It's not much we demand of you. We want you to eat properly. We know you haven't. We want you to step outside at least once a week, doesn't have to be long, just sit in the sun for a few minutes. That's all we ask. Or open your window, it's been barricaded since you moved back in in January. And go to your therapy sessions. We know you have them scheduled and we know you've been skipping them. You can't expect to get better if you don't go to these sessions.”

“And what if I don't want to get better?”

“That's not an option. I told you: For once you don't get to say in this.”

Megumi stared at you from between the falling cherry blossom petals that were carried down to the ground by the wind. You could see in his eyes that right now, in this moment in time, he thought he hated you. You just had to hope he didn't actually feel that way. If he did, you did you definitely would have been the wrong choice to have this conversation with him.

It had been quite a debate between the second years, Yūji, and you about who should talk to Megumi. You even considered asking Ieiri-sensei about being the one to talk to him, but in the end, everyone agreed it would be best if it were you. They were convinced you were the one he trusted the most, the one he liked the best. At least those were the others’ arguments. You weren't sure how true they held, now that he stared at you as if he wished you were to drop dead to the floor.

“All right,” Megumi sighed. “I'll oblige to your demands under one condition: Give me one good reason why I should continue fighting. But keep in mind: my mother is dead. My father is dead, killed by the man who raised me, the man who – although he is not my father – is the closest thing I've ever had to one, the man who I had to watch being killed by my own hands. My sister is dead, also killed by me. What do I live for? Give me one good reason.”

You stared back at Megumi watching the hatred in his eyes. It was obvious he didn't believe you had any idea what he was going through.

Truthfully, you didn't. Your situation was nothing like his, and you never had been in a situation like this before nor would you ever be, but that didn't mean you didn't know all the facts he just listed. His father, his mother, his sister, and Gojō-sensei, all the people he ever might have considered family, were gone, along with so many others. And in a large part he blamed himself for it.

It was not his fault, how could it have been his fault, when it had been Sukuna, who had possessed his body. But you supposed having to watch your own body commit such terrors, having to watch as your hands took life after life, unable to interfere, unable to save his friends and family, unable to do anything but watch them all being slaughtered… it wasn’t surprising he blamed himself.

“Gojō’s in a coma, one he might never wake back up from, and it's nobody's fault but mine. Do you really believe I can live in a world like that?”

You wanted to disagree with him, tell him that it was not his fault, that he was not the one to blame, that as long as you all stuck together, there was still hope, but you knew better than to do so. Instead, you started with what he had demanded of you.

“You want me to give you a reason to keep on living,” you asked. “Gojō-sensei is not dead. As you said he's in a coma. Ieiri-sensei has been working on him every day. As far as we know he might wake up any day now.”

Megumi shook his head. “You really believe that,” he asked, “if you’re really believing that, you are more naïve than I believed you to be.” He sounded disappointed.

“Not naïve,” you disagreed. “Hopeful.”

“Same thing.”

“But let's assume for one moment Gojō were to wake back up,” you continued the train of thought before Megumi could derail it again. “Wouldn’t you want to be there? Wouldn’t you want to see him again, talk to him again?”

“You’re dealing in probabilities; probabilities are not good enough. Give me something tangible.”

You blinked. You had really thought he would give in at Gojō. So, what were you to say now?

“A stary sky then,” you offered. “To go star gazing the way we did last summer. On a blanket, out in front of the school, sharing snacks and drinks.”

Megumi scuffed.

“Another sunrise,” you continued. “Pinks and reds and oranges dying the clouds, a new day with new possibilities-”

“New suffering? Not good enough.”

“A puppy’s fur under your fingertips, these sharp, tiny teeth burying in your skin.”

“And what for?” Before you could answer, he kept going. “All my life I’ve tried to form relationships, be close to people I care about, and all my life they left me. One after the other. So what good is another stary sky, another sunrise, a puppy’s fur underneath my fingertips, if I don’t have anyone to share it with? It’s not good enough.”

A part of your mind was still hung up on the thought that it was probably better for Megumi to blame the dead for being dead than himself, but you quickly answered.

“You have us,” you told him, taking a careful step forward. “Maki, Toge, Panda, Yūta.”

His ocean blue eyes glimmered as he fully turned towards you as if he was waiting for something specific.

“You have Yūji.”

His shoulders sacked, and he looked away.

“Not good enough. They’re all gonna leave eventually.”

“I won’t,” you disagreed. “I’m not gonna leave. I made you a promise when we entered Shibuya together, that I’d always be there, and I don’t plan on breaking that promise.”

Megumi shook his head, biting his lips, still not looking at you.

“You’ll be there,” he asked, sounding disbelieving. “For every stary sky, every sunset. Every meal, walk, therapy session.”

“Yes.” Your reply was unwavering.

“You don’t even know what that means,” Megumi sighed, finally looking back up to you, but now he seemed rather sad than angry. As if the scenarios he had painted were what he wanted but were too far out of reach to even attempt to grasp them. “I’m sick. My mind- I’m broken. Something inside my head is broken and I don’t know if it will ever heal again, and if it does, if it heals right. A promise like you’re offering… it wouldn’t just be for the next days or weeks. It might be months, years, hell, it might be decades of me trying to shut my self away, of nightmares, therapy, being unable to laugh or feel anything other than this pitch-black darkness. You can’t promise me you’ll be strong enough to be there. I don’t doubt that you have the strength to see me through all this, I know you do. But there will be times when it will seem as if I’d be okay, and you’ll be hopeful, but when I have a bad phase again- It would hurt you, and I can’t hurt any more of my friends.”

“And you think the way you’re behaving right now is hurting nobody? Megumi, I won’t promise that I’ll always be there. I can’t. I’m still a sorcerer, I still have to go to missions, and am in danger every time I go. But I will be there for you for as long as I can and for as long and often as you want me to be.”

“For every stary sky?”

“And every sunrise.”

“Every meal?”

“If that’s what you want, yes. And for every walk, and if you want me to, I’ll even wait outside the therapist’s office for you.”

Megumi averted his gaze, staring at a spot right in front of your feet.

“Why? Why would you do that? What do you get in return?”

Carefully you took a step forward. “Because I care about you Megumi. And even though it might seem selfless, getting to be there for you, supporting you, trying to help you to get back to your feet, getting to watch you fight to get better, being with you through all this, is actually a very selfish act.”

Megumi looked back up, his eyes scanning your face for a moment.

“Can you hug me,” he asked, voice quiet over the wind in the branches above you.

“Of course,” you smiled and slowly crossed the last distance between you, wrapping your arms around him. He seemed to melt into the touch, almost fragile, his body moving closer to yours until his whole front was flatly pressed against yours, his face buried against the side of your neck, his hair tickling your cheek and ear. You held him tight, not too tight, so he still could breathe without effort, but tight enough for him to feel how serious you were with everything you had offered.

“I’m just scared of ending up alone again,” he whispered. “And I can’t lose you too. You’re too important to me.”

“You won’t lose me,” you whispered back, rubbing his back through the thick fabric of his oversized hoodie.

“What if you die?”

“I won’t. And if I do, I’ll come back as a curse, like Rika.”

The sound of a small chuckle surprised you, but you quickly held Megumi tighter, hoping to engrave the sound into your memory forever.

Before you could say anything else, Megumi’s phone started ringing. You stiffened up, ready to pull away, but Megumi kept you close.

“Aren’t you going to answer,” you asked, hesitantly wrapping your arms back around him.

“No,” he replied.

“What if it’s important?”

“How important can it be,” Megumi shrugged. “Not more important than this, anyway.”

After a while the ringing stopped, and Megumi slowly loosened his hold on you. Carefully pulling away, you came face to face with him.

“Thank you,” he said sincerely.

“What for?”

“Everything. I… I tend to lose sight of the good things in life and let the darkness swallow me whole.”

Taking a step back, you reached out your hand for him to take. Questioningly he raised his eyebrows at you but placed his hand in yours.

“Now you won’t get lost in the darkness,” you told him with a smirk, making him roll his eyes.

“That’s too cheesy for me,” he shook his head.

“Oh, don’t start laughing now, Fushiguro,” you cried. “I saw that! The corner of your mouth was twitching!”

“It wasn’t! That’s annoyance at how cheesy you were being!”

He only kept his expression in check for another second before he burst out laughing. Using your intertwined hands, he pulled you back into a hug, this one more casual than the first. When his phone started ringing again, both of you ignored it.

After you had calmed down from the laughter, Megumi’s eyes fixed themselves on your face, watching you as were catching your breath.

“Can I kiss you,” he suddenly asked, making you freeze in your motion.

Surprised you looked at him, your heart seeming to miss a few beats, but then you nodded your head, and a moment later his lips were on yours, soft, a little chapped, but gentle. It was a sweet kiss, nothing too extravagant, and still enough to steal your breath and make you weak in your knees.

It was perfect, you suddenly realized, kissing Megumi like his. Around you, cherry blossom petals were floating on a warm spring breeze, birds were singing in the branches above you, and Megumi’s arms were warm and secure around you while his heart beat a firm rhythm underneath your fingers, somewhat too fast for a normal heartbeat, but then again yours was probably racing too.

The perfect moment got interrupted by yet another ring of Megumi’s phone.

“I think you should answer it,” you mumbled against his lips. “It’s probably really something important.”

Megumi sighed but pulled away enough to grab his phone out of his pocket.

“It’s just Yūji,” he rolled his eyes, but before he could answer the call, the ringing stopped again.

He shrugged, slipping the phone back into his pocket.

“I got a question,” he suddenly declared.

“Ask away.”

“You said: another stary sky, another sunrise, and…” he hesitated for a moment before continuing. “a puppy’s fur underneath my fingertips. Where do you plan to get me a puppy from?” He sounded amused, but you knew him good enough to know that he would do hell of a lot to play with a puppy sometime soon.

“Okay, here’s the thing.”

“Oh dear.”

“Yūji and I were thinking, for a while now.”

“That can’t be a good sign,” Megumi sighed. “What crazy idea did you two come up with now?”

“I’m gonna ignore that low-key insult, and let you live” you announced, “But do you know Principal Yaga’s friend, the one who had all these dogs?”

Megumi nodded, clearly hesitant about whether or not he really wanted to know what Yūji and you had come up with.

“So, one of the dogs had puppies a few weeks back and we were thinking that it might be good to adopt one of them, for our year. We’ve been talking to the teachers and thinking things through and if all of us take turns caring for it, it won’t be too much responsibility all at once. And it would give us some sort of stability, having to go on walks on regular hours, playing, teaching it commands… but there’d also someone to keep us company when we don’t feel so good, someone who can’t give us advice, but also won’t ask questions either. Someone who accepts us as we are, no matter how good we are in school or whatever. So… yeah, the puppy is already old enough to be separated from its mother and is moving in next Friday.”

Megumi stared at you.

“You adopted a puppy,” he asked incredulously.

“We adopted a puppy,” you corrected. “Yeah.”

“And we‘ll share responsibility for it?”

You nodded, and Megumi’s eyes suddenly grew hard.

“I don’t know that dog yet, but I’ll fight you for custody after graduation,” he declared, making your eyes widen.

Graduation. That was still three years away, the furthest Megumi had talked about the future since November.

Swallowing your surprise, you shrugged. “That’s okay with me.”

“But wait,” Megumi suddenly stopped. “Before the puppy arrives, we need all kinds of stuff. It won’t be like with Shiro and Kuro, it’ll need a basket, and bowls and a leash! I think we’ll need several baskets, so we don’t have to carry them around all the time. And food! We need special-”

He was interrupted by the ringing of a mobile phone, this time yours.

“Yūji,” you told him, showing him the screen on which a picture of your pink haired classmate had popped up.

“Let’s answer it,” Megumi sighed. “He’ll just keep calling otherwise.”

You had barely pressed the green button to answer the call, when Yūji’s voice was already sounding from the small speaker, loud enough that you didn’t even have to put your ear to it.

“Megumi isn’t answering his phone,” Yūji all but screamed. “I’ve tried calling him dozens of times but he’s not answering! I’m really worried! We need to-”

“Yūji, Yūji, calm down!” Quickly you interrupted your panicking friend, pressing the speaker button so Megumi could listen in. “He’s with me, he’s fine, we were talking a walk.”

On the other side silence spread out.

“And you didn’t call dozens of times, you called three times,” Megumi added, leaning down to the speaker.

On the other end, a small “oh” was audible.

“So, what’s so important that you decided to terrorize Megumi via phone calls,” you asked, shooting Megumi a glance.

His eyebrows were furrowed, and it was not hard to tell that he had only now realized just how worried his friends were about him, how much they cared about him. Enough to send ever cheerful Yūji into something akin to a panic attack just because he hadn’t answered his phone for a few minutes.

“I didn’t terrorize him,” Yūji protested.

“You kinda did, but whatever. What’s going on?”

“You guys need to come to the hospital wing asap,” Yūji told you.

Megumi and you exchanged glances. The hospital wing? That wasn’t good. Megumi took your hand in his and started walking back the way you had come.

“We’re on our way,” you told Yūji, “What’s going on? Who got hurt?”

“Nobody,” Yūji sounded like he was running himself now, slightly out of breath. “Gojō-sensei’s awake.”

And with that he ended the call.

Megumi and you were both so surprised about the message, that you came to a slithering halt. Gojō was awake? Sure, you had told Megumi it was a possibility, that he might wake up soon, but you had not believed it to actually, really happen at all.

For a short moment Megumi and you looked at each other,f inding your own surprise and relief mirrored on his face. And then you took off running, taking the quickest way to the hospital wing, your hands intertwined.

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littlejuicebox · 4 months

Text

A Midwinter Carol / The OneShot

Pairing: Ascended Astarion x F!Reader/Tav

Story navigation: [1] [2] [3] [4] [5]

Summary/Setting: Fifteen years post BG3 / You turned down Astarion's offer and went your own way after the ending of the game and you've just returned to BG. Astarion sees you again for the first time in 15 years and then has a surprise visitor that changes everything for him.

Rating/Warnings: M+ / Gore and Sexual Scenes / Spoilers for the game / Prob OOC Ascended Astarion

Word Count: 3K

Notes: This is 2/5 "Days of Star-mas!" "A Christmas Carol" but make it BG3 Ascended Astarion, of course!

I'm also entering this into the #BG3HolidayFluffle23 challenge under the prompt "new beginnings."

Click here to see my master list.

-----

Fifteen years. The Vampire Ascendent hadn’t seen you in fifteen years, since you’d rejected his offer to become his loyal consort for the final time.

You two couldn’t reconcile your differences. You’d wanted him to trust you, to believe that your love was stronger than any desire for power, that you could remain a mortal or become a true vampire like him and still remain loyal. You didn’t want to be a spawn. You’d considered his offer a great disrespect, and ultimately, his changed behavior had driven you away.

“You’re nothing like the man I fell in love with anymore. I don’t know who you are.”

Your words had stung, though he’d never admit it.

It had been an awful, messy, seething breakup, to be sure… and the Vampire Lord almost turned you against your will anyway. But at the time, Astarion’s soft spot for you had reigned supreme, and he still thought himself better than Cazador and above such things. So, against his own wishes, he’d let you go.

Last the Vampire Ascendent heard of your movements, you were somewhere along the Sword Coast, playing valiant hero once again. So, when he walked into Duke Ravengard’s Midwinter Gala with some pretty little thing on his arm that he’d picked up for the occasion and would likely drain of blood and dispose of later, he was flabbergasted to see you sitting at the high table. Right. Next. To. Wyll.

Fifteen years and it still felt like the greatest betrayal, as if you’d staked him through the heart in that moment. It took every ounce of The Vampire Lord’s control to not to turn into a cloud of smoke and break The Duke’s neck then and there. Oh, but how desperately he wanted to.

But he couldn’t risk such a spectacle… many of his dealings were hanging tenuously as it was, and creating a power vacuum in the city was just as bad for him as it would be for those against him. No, Wyll helped to maintain the balance… and generally tolerated Astarion with some level of old-ties respect. They had an agreement: the pale elf would keep his business private and primarily drink from criminals, and Wyll would turn a relatively blind eye. So no, as much as he wanted to, Astarion couldn’t afford such a loss of control.

The Vampire Ascendent watched as you walked about the room with Duke Ravengard, hanging on his arm like a prize and chatting with nobles and old contacts. Astarion’s date — what was their name again? — tried more than once to steal his attentions away, but resigned themselves to drinking heavily and dancing with several other guests. The Vampire Ascendant watched you join the dance floor with The Duke and his blood boiled at the sight; he even bent the stem of his golden goblet while witnessing the vile scene.

No. Absolutely not. This wouldn’t do. Astarion had to do something, had to interrupt whatever game this was. How dare you and Wyll disrespect him like this! So, he stood and abruptly crossed the dance floor, the other guests parting like the Red Sea before him in their shock. Lord Ancunin never made his way to the dance floor for anyone.

“May I interrupt and have this next dance?” The Vampire Ascendent’s voice is honeyed and saccharine as the music pauses and the band readies for their next ballad. Everyone around the room is clapping politely. A gentleman’s smile is plastered across the elf’s lips, but it doesn’t meet his eyes, as he extends his pale hand to you.

Wyll bristles and turns to look at you, and there’s a moment of silent communication between two sets of eyes that must know one another quite well, because Astarion cannot read their nearly-imperceptible movements. Finally, the Duke relents and passes your hand to the Vampire Lord.

“No funny business, Astarion. My men and I will be watching your every move.” The Duke warns through a benevolent-appearing smile, a warning hand clasped on the vampire’s tensed back, before locking eyes with you once more and then turning and walking toward the high table.

You smile at Astarion, as if it’s just the two of you back in the center of that clearing, draped in moonlight and barren to one another, all those years ago. “It’s good to see you, my old friend.”

Old friend? Old friend? The words make the Vampire Ascendent’s mouth practically fill with bile as he spins you about the room. He can feel the steady beating of your heart and smell that intoxicating, tempting bouquet of blood brimming beneath your skin that he’d never quite forgotten.

You two catch up, to some small extent, as you tell the Vampire Lord about your journeys along the Sword Coast and he tries to impress you with his growing influence and wealth, but before long the song is over and The Duke is, annoyingly, coming back to retrieve his prize. You smile so sweetly at Astarion before you depart that it almost hurts; no one else looks at him with that level of love and kindness… all he ever sees anymore are eyes filled with fear, mistrust, or hate.

“I hope you’re happy, Astarion. Truly. I’m glad to see you looking so well. Now go find the date you came with… they’re owed a dance, I believe.” You press a chaste kiss to his cheek, sending an electric shock through his numb heart. He almost gives into his urges and bites you right there, in front of everyone, claiming his love and his prize. But again, he lets you go, slipping through his fingers like sand through an hourglass as you meander back toward Wyll and continue the festivities.

Astarion can’t take any more of this. He goes to find his date, rips them away from whatever conversation they were having with whatever noble, and swiftly exits the party. Back at the Palace, the poor little thing is used for mindless sex and then for sustenance and then left to be disposed of by one of the staff with nary a thought. The Vampire Lord couldn’t even remember their name.

——-

A week rolls by, and gods what a terrible week it was. Astarion’s grip had weakened on the city after a few poor calls. In his pride, he’d never admit they were his fault, and instead he quickly blamed his advisors and sent them to the dungeons. Furthermore, the meeting he’d hosted today with several of the Guilds had practically blown up in his face as the Guild Leaders came to blows in the middle of the Great Hall. Mortal creatures could be so… overzealous. The entire ordeal was giving him a massive headache. If the Guild Leaders didn’t come to an agreement soon, he would lose his monopoly on the shipping industry.

The Vampire Lord settles into his bed, alone, after downing several goblets of wine, but sleep does not come to him. He’s awake, staring at the ceiling, and all he can think about is you. Gods, he thought he’d moved past all this. But as he remembers your face, your nights together, the way your body felt on his… he feels his erection growing. Astarion is about to stick his hand inside his trousers to provide himself with some relief when a familiar, annoying voice travels through the room.

“I’ve been watching you, Astarion.”

Fucking Gale. The fucking God of Ambition. The Vampire Lord shoots up in bed and sees the silvery form of his former campmate standing at the foot of it.

“What in the hells, Gale! A God and still an absolute pervert, I see.”

The God ignores Astarion, moving to sit his ethereal form on the edge of the bed. The Vampire Lord wrinkles his nose and pulls his legs as far away from Gale as he can.

The God sighs, “Astarion, you’ve rejected my help before, and the strides you’ve made within the city are falling… it’s beginning to seem that you are headed down a path you are not going to be able to return from. A few more bad calls and you won’t come back from it. You are wasting your potential because you refuse to become the master of your own ambition rather than a slave to it. I’m beginning to wonder… is this what you truly want? I can see many lifetimes of yours, with many choices you’ve made along the way, and I’m sorry to tell you this lifetime seems to be the most miserable.”

Astarion scoffs. The fact that Gale is the only prior friend that keeps in touch with him, albeit for his own peculiar reasons, is a sad fact that the Vampire Lord refuses to acknowledge. He’d pushed everyone else away years ago. The only other person he ever saw was The Duke at obligatory balls, galas, and political events… and obviously the last time had been less than fulfilling. But loneliness resided deep in the Vampire Lord’s heart, hidden away from even his own acknowledgement, so although Gale had always been his least favorite, the pale elf still engaged in conversation.

“What do you mean by that? That you can see several of my lifetimes? I find it difficult to believe that this is the worst. Surely there is a lifetime in which I’m still under Cazador’s control.”

The God of Ambition considers this, and then turns and looks off into the distance, as if he’s examining something Astarion cannot see. “Hmm. Actually, there is only one lifetime in which that is still ongoing. So yes, that one may be the worst. I stand corrected, this is the second worst. You’re dead in more of them, a spawn in most of them… and your Tav, or some other version of Tav, is in several as a friend or a lover, to both the spawn and ascendant versions of you. You might be surprised to know that in more than one, you and I are coupled… it’s quite interesting.”

Astarion cringes at the thought of being in a relationship with Gale, but chooses to move past the thought and acknowledge the only bit of information he actually cared about, “My Tav is in several of them?”

“Of course. Would you like to see it? Let me take you on a little journey.” Gale holds his hand out the Vampire Lord, and Astarion cannot help but feel the pull of intrigue. Gods… at least this would guarantee a more interesting night than one with his hand spent down his own pants.

The pale elf sighs and extends his hand to the God of Ambition, and just as their fingers brush, he feels himself enveloped in the warmth of the Weave. Light spirals around the two beings and then suddenly, Astarion and Gale are standing outside a tomb. The Vampire Lord hears himself screaming from inside the tomb and feels the panic and shame rising within his own body. This is from his own past, when Cazador locked him up for a year.

“Why the hells have you brought me here, Gale? This isn’t what I asked to see!”

“No… but I thought it might serve as a reminder of where you came from. You seem to have forgotten… and subject others to similar fates and tortures, nowadays.”

Astarion hears the begging and pleading, the scratching on the inside of the tomb, and his gut churns again at the memory. How something that happened years ago, that he’d shoved deep in his mind never to acknowledge again, could still rip such a reaction from an all-powerful Vampire Ascendent, he did not know. The elf felt himself shaking as he was flooded with the emotion of the memory. Had he really turned into an exact replica of his former master? Hadn’t he wanted to be better than Cazador?

“Had enough? Okay, onto the next one.” Gale snaps his fingers, and both beings are pulled through the Weave.

Suddenly they’re standing in The Duke’s parlor room… the vampire had seen the room just a time or two before, during some business negotiation or another. Then he sees you, bursting through the door with one hand on your swollen belly. Gods above and below, were you carrying Wyll’s seed in this one? The thought made his skin crawl and his stomach churn in disgust.

“Hurry, my love! We need to place the presents here for the others.”

Astarion’s eyebrows crinkle as he listens to the voice responding to you from down the hallway, joined in by the giggles of what is clearly a child. “We’re coming, darling. This little imp is just slowing me down a bit!”

And then he sees himself coming through the door with a silver-haired, giggling toddler wrapped around his leg… but it’s not himself. Pink skin, beating heart, a few more years on his face. Mortal… but how?

Mortal Astarion is carrying a bundle of presents that he places on the coffee table in the center of the parlor. The child grins and puts a hand drawn card on top of the small pile of gifts. The card reads: ‘For Uncle Wyll, Auntie Euphemia, and the Ravengard Twins. Love, the Ancunins.”

Astarion feels his pulse thrumming in his ears as the scene plays out. Mortal Astarion envelops you in his arms and plants a kiss on your cheek, before bending down and placing a kiss on your pregnant stomach.

“Let’s go and join the others, shall we? Auntie Shadowheart and Auntie Lae’zel have a gift for you, my little love!” The mortal pale elf cheers, bending down to pick up the drooling toddler.

“Yay, daddy! Go!” The little babe cheers, clapping uncoordinated hands together, causing both this version of you and his mortal self to giggle in adoration. He watches as you take this version of him by the hand and exit the parlor, headed towards a clamor of conversation filled with several familiar voices. The Vampire Lord tries to follow the little family, desperate to see how the scene continues, but he’s ripped from the scene and thrown back into the Weave with Gale.

“I wasn’t finished!” The Ascendent Vampire shouts in frustration, running his hands through curled hair.

Gale simply sighs and shakes his head at Astarion, before settling onto another scene entirely.

In this one, you are a vampire. Not a vampire spawn, a true vampire. Astarion watches as you don your dress, unabashedly taking in the familiar curves of your body before they’re covered up, and then turns to see himself entering through the bedchamber door.

“My treasure, we’ve done it! We’ve secured educational and apprenticeship programs for the orphans from the Guilds as a show of good faith for our support and protection.”

Your vampire self runs to this better version of Ascendant Astarion, enveloping him in a shockingly passionate kiss. It was enough to make even the Vampire Lord’s skin run hot as he imagined what it would feel like to have you on him like that again.

“I’ve just put on my clothes, my love.” You murmur, voice coy, as you slowly drop your shoulder out of the gown and focus on your Astarion. “But perhaps you won’t mind helping me back out of them… I think that announcement is cause for a bit of… celebration.”

The scene quickly devolves into something overwhelmingly hot and heavy. The Vampire Lord feels himself tingle with desire as he watches everything unfold. Just as the other version of Astarion is about to plunge himself into the vampire version of Tav, the Weave swirls around Gale and Astarion once more.

“You’ve got to be kidding me!” The Vampire Lord hisses as he glares at The God of Ambition.

“I know… steamy, right?” Gale responds, with a small chuckle. “Onto our final scene… this one is your… unfortunate future, if you continue down your same path, I’m afraid.”

The Vampire Ascendent soon sets his eyes on possibly the most gut-wrenching scene he could ever imagine. There you are, standing before him, holding a stake that’s driven straight through his heart. Blood pools around the wound. He’s trying to reach for you, to touch your face, to choke out something he cannot say. And then he’s gone, slumped on the floor, as you hold him in your arms and let out a bloodcurdling wail.

The crying goes on forever. Your body is wracking with sobs as you turn the corpse onto its back and throw yourself over it, almost desperate to have his body close to yours. After what feels like an eternity, your trembling hands come to his face, and you plant a surprisingly tender kiss on his lips. Astarion notices, with some level of shock, bleeding wounds along your arms and neck. Some bites, some blade slashes… had he really been the one to do that to you?

“I really loved you, you know, Astarion… I wish it hadn’t come to this. How dare you kill The Duke and throw the city into upheaval! My city! Our city!

There was nothing between Wyll and me. Just two old friends, catching up… I’d wanted to be back home, I’d fled from my city for fifteen years after what happened between us. Wyll offered me a soft place to land and a kind transition back into society.

I was sure everything would be okay after all this time. That we could at least talk. It had been fifteen years! But you didn’t come to speak to me, you ignored my scrolls, and then—why?!”

The sobbing returned, and you were slamming shaking fists into the corpse version of himself over and over and over and over.

The Vampire Lord sucked in a breath and turned back to the God, “I’ve seen enough, Gale! Take me home right now.”

“As you wish.” The God of Ambition murmurs, and with a snap of his fingers, Astarion is back in his bed in the Palace.

“So?” Gale asks, lifting himself from where he is still sitting on the edge of the bed.

“I need to talk to Tav… I need to speak with her. Tomorrow.” The Vampire Lord murmurs, his head still reeling from everything he saw. He pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs. What would he even say to you, after all this time?

“I would agree. It's far past time for you to pursue a new beginning, Astarion." The God responds as the Weave starts to swirl around him in bright flares of azure, “Oh... and Astarion? I know we were once friends, if you could really call us that… but don’t think this little show and tell was for free. I’ll be asking something of you, when the time comes.”

The Vampire Lord nods. Of course. It could never be that simple, could it? And just like that, Gale disappears in a spray of light, and Astarion is left alone once more.

No. It could never be that simple. The only simple truth in Astarion’s life was this: you were and would always be his saving grace.

——-

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#astarion fanfic #astarion fic #astarion x tav #baulders gate 3 #baulders gate astarion #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 fanfic idea #astarion x reader #astarion x you #astarion x female tav #astarion x f!tav #astarion x f!reader #astarion x female reader #5daysofstarmas #bg3holidayfluffle23

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hannie-dul-set · 4 months

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STAR STUDDED BAGGAGE [2].

SYNOPSIS. the saying “never meet your idols” exists for a reason. you just didn’t expect the reason to be because said idols would end up declaring that you’re their alleged lover from a past life (past lives, rather). now you have three big celebrities vying for your attention, and it’s not as dreamlike as you imagined it to be.

PAIRINGS. choi yeonjun, choi soobin, choi beomgyu x female! reader. GENRES. reincarnation! au, celebrity! au (soloist! yeonjun, actor! soobin, rock band member! beomgyu), slight college! au, slight historical! au, rom-com, angst if you squint, reverse harem woohoo. WARNINGS. swearing, multiple instances where personal space is invaded HAHAHHA, the boys are very dramatic please understand their yearning hearts. WORD COUNT. 4.5k.

NOTE. woohoo! next chapter to this shitshow! some parts may be a bit confusing and vague....sometimes ominous....but all will be known in due time HAHAHHA (may be tempted to give a spoiler or two if u ask). hope you enjoy! please let me know what you think of this chapter and the story so far!

MASTERLIST | NEXT >

CHAPTER 2 — these meet-cutes aren’t cute at all.

YOU DON’T KNOW HOW TO READ LIPS. But you don’t need to know how to get the idea that Taehyun is shooting an insult at you right now. His face says it all. “I said you look like hell,” he repeats after you’ve removed your headphones, the music still leaking out even after you’ve settled it down the cemented table.

“Taehyun’s right,” Gaeul pipes in, and Woohyun seconds it. “You look like crap. What did you do last night?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” you grunt, melting into the table. The sound of Yeong-Il’s Second Life is still just barely playing in the background thanks to your loud as fuck headphones volume. “We finished our exams. Of course I stayed up until six in the morning watching dramas.”

Three disappointed stares and one of full respect. “Dude, you’re crazy,” says Huening. “What did you watch? Night Has Come? My Demon? You should’ve invited me. I feel betrayed.”

“Both,” you reply, but you don’t seem all too happy after consuming over twenty episodes worth of dopamine. You’re frowning. You slam a fist down the table and let out a groan. “But they don’t fill the Choi Soobin shaped hole in my heart— fuck! Why isn’t he getting employed? Why hasn’t he been posting on his Insta? It’s been six months since his last drama. I miss him already.”

Huening’s attempts to console you consist of a few pats on your back. Gaeul’s attempt is a lot more effective. “Didn’t you win a slot to Choi Yeonjun’s fansign this weekend? Aren’t you coming?” You spring up with a gasp. “Girl, don’t tell me you forgot.”

“I did! I fucking forgot because I have a deadline on the same fucking day, fuck! I want to die. I can’t do this anymore.”

“Are you still going?” asks Woohyun.

“Of course she is! Deadlines come ten times a week, but the chance to meet Choi Yeonjin comes one in a million!” Gaeul exclaims, then grabs you by the shoulders with a very serious look on her face, as if she wasn’t just disappointed that you sacrificed sleep just to watch a bunch of dramas. “Tell him I’m in love with him. No, wait, I need to tell him that in person. Tell him to wait for me. I’ll get in next time for sure.”

You whine out something that sounds like an agreement. “I haven’t prepared an outfit yet. This is so depressing. Gaeul, help me.”

Taehyun, who doesn’t share any of your unhealthy fixations, still hasn’t crawled out from his state of disappointed concern. “Just make sure you don’t miss your Saturday deadline,” he says. You roll your eyes in response.

“This is me you’re talking to. I may not seem like it, but I have my shit together. You don’t have to worry.”

They hate to admit it, but it’s true.

Your friends have always wondered how you managed to balance your hellish course load, your evening shifts at The Grind, and your hobby of fangirling over pretty and good looking men. The only reason you were able to binge two dramas until daylight is because you’ve finished all your midterm requirements before taking your exams, and you’ll definitely be able to attend the fansign because you’ll somehow finish a thirty-page paper in one day, in between classes and your work shifts.

They’re quite convinced you’re insane. The lifeless look in your eyes as you flit through your flashcards to review for a recitation later is a testament to that insanity.

But sometimes, a little spark of life manages to slip through.

Like right now, as you check a notification in your phone in the middle of reviewing.

“Shit, fuck, shit— oh my god. Yeong-Il dropped an interview, fuck, hold on—”

“Whoa, really?’ Woohyun digs his nose next to you. You guys have a graded recitation in thirty minutes, and you’re walking to the classroom with a blank face zeroed in at your phone screen in landscape instead of the flashcards you have now tossed away into your bag, paying no mind to your surroundings to the point that Gael and Huening have to make sure you’re still walking in the right direction.

Taehyun isn’t sure whether to be impressed or concerned. They can’t even tell you off because they know you’ll somehow find the answers to Prof Yang’s questions anyway.

APPARENTLY, THERE’S A CAR ACCIDENT OUT FRONT. On top of having a tiring day of rehearsals and the interview with Beomgyu exposing his delusions on the internet being dropped earlier (they didn’t edit it out, those rats), Yeong-Il isn’t having a good day, so it’s to no one’s surprise the the tension inside their van on the way back to their dorms is rather palpable.

Beomgyu, however, doesn’t feel said tension. Or maybe he just doesn’t care because he’s closing his eyes, ready to nap while all the rest of the vehicles surrounding theirs are honking their horns, and while Jeongin and Jimin are monitoring the interview on a phone. The part where Beomgyu talks about his alleged first love comes up. “Beomgyu,” Heeseung groans, covering his ears with a neck pillow. “Did you really have to say all that?”

“Ahh, quit nagging. No one’s even taking it seriously,” he grumbles, arms crossed and turning over his body to face the window instead of his bandmates.

“Yeah, people are just raving about how romantic Beomgyu is,” says Jimin.

“And making edits of him and Heeseung,” adds Jeongin. “They’re mistaking your stressed-out glances at Beomgyu as signs of unrequited love—”

Heeseung shoves a hand against Jeongin’s face to shut him up. “Still. You should be more careful of what you say in front of the camera, Gyu.”

“Nyenye. You should be more careful of what you say in front of the camera, Gyu.”

They’re friendly as usual. Heeseung can’t put in the last word because Beomgyu has completely transformed into a sleeping position— yet he can’t seem to sleep and rest despite being absolutely fucked out and tired. He lets out a groan, squirming in the car seat. “Ugh.” The car still isn’t moving. The road is still a mess. All he wants is to rest as soon as possible, and he can’t even have that. All he wants is to see you again as soon as possible, and he’s starting to feel like he can’t have that as well.

Beomgyu gives up. He begrudgingly opens his eyes and looks at the state of the traffic out the window. It’s getting dark. Streetlights are being lit up one after the other, and he watches people moving faster than the frozen cars, like the road and the sidewalk are on two separate spaces of time.

A thought enters his head. What are the chances that you’ll be one of the people walking along the sidewalk right now?

“They’re making way for an ambulance.”

It’s a fruitlessly hopeful thought, he knows. It’s a silly possibility to entertain. But still. He can’t help but examine each of the faces passing by in the hopes that maybe, just maybe, his wish from four-hundred years ago will finally fucking come true.

“Damn, when are we getting home?”

Right when Beomgyu gives up hoping and tries to fall back asleep again, he spots a familiar face walking down the sidewalk. Wait a minute—

“Man, this sucks.”

He jolts up, There’s no way. There’s no way Beomgyu wouldn’t recognize that expression— stone-cold, looking as if the very thing in front of you is a worthless bug waiting to be stepped on, warding away any possible attempts of anyone bothering you. There are no knives in your hands, but a phone and a paper bag. You’re not adorned in the blue, red, white, and gold like he’s used to, but a large coat draped over your shoulders.

Still. Even if your face is covered by a mask, or if you’ve inhabited the body of a completely different person.

“Beomgyu, wanna play are round when we get—”

There’s no way Beomgyu wouldn’t recognize you.

Looks like the chances are high after all.

“Beomgyu?!”

The van door slides open. Beomgyu feels the cold air hitting his face as he rushes in between the gaps of the traffic-saddled cars and the spaces in between. He hears Heeseung and Jeongin and Jimin calling after him but he doesn’t give a shit. Not now. Not when he’s sure he finally has you within reach, closing in the gap between you before you can disappear into a corner. Not when all he has to do is stretch out his hand, breath caught in his throat and heart racing, and pull you by the arm so you can turn around and look at him.

And you do.

Your phone crashes to the ground, and you’re looking at him like you want to punch him in the face. Beomgyu’s heart skips a beat.

“What the hell?!”

“It’s you.”

Beomgyu watches your brows knit together, your mouth falling into a sneer. It’s like looking into a time machine. Holy shit.

“It’s really you.”

That look of annoyance. There’s no denying it. Night has fallen. The only thing illuminating your face is a single streetlight hanging above, but he’d be stupid to mistake you for anyone else. The arm that shakes his hold off is yours. The eyes that are glaring at him— sharp as knives— are yours, yours, and yours alone and he can get lost in them for hours on end. “The fuck? Do I know—”

Your name falls from his lips for the first time in centuries. It’s always been blurry, always at the tip of his tongue the moment his memories from four-hundred years ago came crashing back to him like a storm. But now, it comes off naturally the moment he sees you. It rolls off his tongue like it’s the only thing he was ever meant to sing.

He says your name once more. Your eyes widen in alarm.

“Are you a stalker?”

“I love you.”

“Excuse me?”

“I love you,” he repeats, breathless. “My biggest regret was failing to tell you how much I loved when I still had the chance.”

“What the fuck? What are you—”

Beomgyu reaches out for your hands, tugging you closer. Your skin burns him. Warm. Alive. “Now that I’ve been given that chance, I’m not letting go of you anymore.” He pauses, practicing the words inside his head before saying, “Let’s get married.”

“What?!”

“I love you. I missed you. Let’s get married right now.”

You don’t say anything. You’re silent. Beomgyu feels his stomach wrench and drop and hurt all the way to his chest and lungs because why—

Why are you looking at him like that?

“I’m going to call the fucking cops.” Once again, you shove him off, pulling your hands back and pressing them close to your chest. “There’s a crazy fucking bastard on the— shit! My phone! The screen is cracked, gosh! I haven’t even finished paying for it, for fuck’s sake, you have to— ex—excuse me, are you crying? Are you actually crying? What the hell?”

Beomgu’s vision is cloudy and his cheeks are wet. He knows you’ve always been spunky. You’ve always had an attitude and you two didn’t start off on the right foot, either. But why are you acting like you don’t know him? Like he’s some sort of fucking stranger?

“Hey, I should be the one crying right now! You broke my phone! What is wrong with—”

“There you are!”

Suddenly, he doesn’t see you anymore. Heeseung’s voice comes crashing in and he gets shoved aside, eyes stinging and mind still in a daze. “I’m so, so sorry for my friend over here. We can’t pay for the damages right away, but please take this. Again, we’re so sorry! Hope you have a great night, still!”

No. He can’t let you slip away again. Not when he can finally hold you in his arms like all the countless times he hasn’t. “Dude, what are you doing?!” Heeseung yanks him back before he can run after you down the sidewalk. “Quit being weird. Why the hell are you crying?”

Beomgyu is having a hard time understanding. He’s not sure if he can’t, or if he simply doesn’t want to believe this— but your eyes don’t lie. He can tell if you’re annoyed by him just by looking at you. He can tell if you’re angry, regretful, elated, or drunk from the onslaught of his affections, so this time— he can clearly tell as well.

He can tell just from the look in your eyes that you don’t remember him.

That all those years of waiting for you was all for naught.

SOOBIN KNOWS THAT HE SHOULDN’T BE HERE RIGHT NOW. He knows that he’s supposed to be on a diet, and he knows that he has a photo shoot for a magazine this weekend. He even got rid of his stash of instant ramyeon because of that, deleted all those delivery apps because this’ll be his first schedule after a few months of taking a break.

But he is here, at one in the morning, in between the isles of the 7-Eleven nearest to his apartment building, because cravings sometimes trump rationality, and god he sure is craving for a cup of noodles. Or two. Two sounds good. And since he’s already here, might as well put a pack of milk bread in his basket. A can of Sprite too. Manager Lee is gonna kill him, but at least he’ll die full and satisfied.

“Hey, hold the door open for me.”

“Don’t you have hands?”

“Nice! They have empty seats outside. Waiting here. Buy me some donuts.”

Ah, shit. Soobin pulls his hood over his head and readjusts his mask. Sounds like a group coming in. He should pay later once the store’s emptier— meaning, he has no choice but to browse for more snacks to add to his basket. Totally not because he wants to, no.

“Why’d you bring your laptop all the way here? You can continue working in Woohyung’s apartment.”

“Yeah, girl. There’s still a lot of time before the deadline.”

Soobin doesn’t want to eavesdrop, but the voices are talking pretty loudly. He’s dropping a few packets of yakgwa cookies into his basket while listening to a group of college students mourning about their courses. Good thing he chose not to pursue tertiary education.

“I need to finish this as soon as possible if I want to attend the fucking fansign. Crap, I should’ve switched majors when I had the chance.”

He abruptly stops snack surfing. Wait. Pause. Hold on.

“Should’ve done that before junior year.”

“I know. Shut up. Get me a popsicle, please. Chocolate. Thank you.”

That voice—

“They ran out. Only strawberry or melon. Pick one”

“That’s fucking balls.”

“You’re so eloquent.”

“Suck my fucking dick.”

Okay. Nevermind. It’s kinda weird to hear a voice that sounds eerily similar to the love of his life’s saying so much obscenities. You only spoke pretty words to him before, so maybe he’s just tripping. There’s no way you’d swear so much, so he continues browsing the snack aisle. Maybe he just misses you so much that he’s starting to mistake a similarly sounding voice as yours and subconsciously letting his hopes up.

“Hyun, by the way. I forgot to mention. I met a Choi Beomgyu lookalike last night on the way home from work. It was fucking wild.”

Then again, he thinks, arm paused hovering above a bag of chips. People didn’t really say suck my fucking dick in Joseon era.

Soobin stops filling his basket and starts moving out of the aisle, following the sound of your voice.

“I almost fell in love on the spot, but the guy wasn’t right in the head, I think.” Closer. You’re starting to sound closer. “He knew my name. He kept acting like he knew me and asked me to fucking marry him? I even dropped my phone because he scared the shit out of me. I don’t know, it was wild.”

Where? Where are you?

“Dude, really? No way.”

“I’m serious! I’m telling you—”

Where the hell are you?

“I even got a card from his friend when he dragged the Beomgyu clone away. I have it here, take a loo— wait. Wait. Isn’t BH the agency that manages Yeong-Il? Am I wrong— oh, sorry!”

There you are.

There’s a stain on his hoodie. Bright pink. It matches the popsicle you’re holding, the varsity jacket you’re wearing, and the color painting his cheeks because you’re right in front of him. You’re actually right in front of him right now— face flushed with panic, eyes rapidly blinking. “Are—are you Choi Soobin?” someone says. Not you. You’re still profusely apologizing while trying to wipe away the stain with your jacket sleeve.

“That’s ridiculous, Huening. Go get me some tissues! I’m so, so sorry, oh gosh. I should’ve been paying more attention.”

You’re here. It’s actually you. His heart is racing. He can’t fucking breathe. He’s not sure if he should cry, scream, or all of the above.

But there’s something different. There’s something wrong.

“I can tell Choi Soobin from a picture of his ear! I’m telling you it’s him!” Your attention is pulled away by your companion tugging on your arm. “You’re Choi Soobin, right?! Jipuragi? Figured Obscurity?”

“Dude, you’re making him uncomfortable! Why in the world would Choi Soobin be—”

Soobin pulls down his mask, tugging on its fabric. When you turn back to look at him, your popsicle drops to the ground and you let out a gasp.

Your eyes are shining. You’re beaming. You do recognize him. You do know him.

“Oh my god. Oh my god, I’m such a big fan.”

Just not in the way he was hoping for.

“Y—yeah. Would you like a picture?”

You let out a squeal. So does your friend. This isn’t how Soobin expected his reunion with you to go about. This is wrong. He had it all planned in his head like a screenplay, and all that was left was to execute it without fail.

The moment he sees you, he was supposed to spin you around and hear your laughter fluttering in the air. He was supposed to hold you in his arms and give you the first kiss he’d been saving in this life because he’s been waiting for you all this time, yearning for years and years to give you the life he wasn’t able to in the past. To make up for everything you missed because in this life— there’s no class system to keep you apart. There’s nothing stopping him from loving you out in the open.

He didn’t expect to give you his autograph and take a fan selca with you after years of waiting.

This is so wrong. This is so freaking wrong.

“I can’t believe this is happening,” who he assumes is your friend says, and you’re smiling so, so brightly while looking at the photo of you and him that everything he wishes to say and profess and confess just lodges in his throat, blocking everything in its path.

“Thank you! Don’t worry, we won’t post this anywhere,” you say. Soobin holds back the inhuman urge to tell you why settle for a photo, when you can have him instead?

“S—sure. Anytime.”

“Ah, we should probably give you some privacy now. Huening, stop gawking! Anyway, fighting! We’re looking forward to your upcoming dramas!”

Just like that, you leave. You walk out of the store and join the rest of your friends outside, and he sees you showing off the signature he left on your receipt from the window, when he could give you so much more than that, when you could show off that you already own his entire heart. This...this really isn’t how he wanted to reunite with you. And the underlying reason for it something he doesn’t want to entertain.

“YEONJUN, YOU’RE UP IN TEN,” says a staff member. It’s the last week of promotions, and Yeonjun is getting his hair and makeup retouched one last time before he’s set to go uponstage to open the fansign. His manager tells him not to do anything stupid, or scandalous, or all of the above onstage— an almost everyday reminder that Yeonjun, more often than not, isn’t interested in listening to.

“Noona, you should trust me more,” he reacts, a slight whine in his tone. Manager Kim’s expression is nothing but dubious.

“At the very least warn me before you do something insane so I can prepare.”

“Will do,” Yeonjun grins, and his manager waves him off. Screams erupt the moment he emerges from behind the stage curtains, and everything else just comes naturally for Choi Yeonjun— not needing to second guess when he blows a kiss mid-performance, stirs the crowd with a comment or two, and making sure that all eyes are on him, almost as if he was born on every stage he steps foot on.

And to think he started this career without any desire for stardom.

Now, there’s nothing he desires more than blinding lights and the visceral sounds of cheers.

“A—ah, hello!”

Well. There is one thing.

“Crap, I—I’m so nervous I don’t think I can breathe.”

“Oh no,” replies Yeonjun to the fan sitting before him, marker in hand as he flips open the tabbed page on the nth album splayed out on the table. “Should I give you CPR to help you start breathing again?”

The girl lets out something sort of a squeal. He grins out a laugh and asks for her name and if she’s eaten anything yet.

“Thank you! Oh— oh, wait, one more thing—”

“Next!”

It’s a fast paced rotation. It always is. But Yeonjun uses the split second before the next person carousels in front of him to make a quick scan across the people lining up, across the people waiting in the audience seats, clinging onto the sliver of probability that this may finally be the day where his years of yearning for the ghost of past can finally end— well overdue for god knows how long already.

He reuses and rehashes the same lines, same dialogue, and same greetings for the next person, and the next person, and the next and the next and the next. It’s just one face after another. Not that he’s bored, or unappreciative of the fans that spent their time (and truckloads of money) to see him. But it’s human to feel a sense of disappointment when the face he wants to see doesn't turn up after the fifth, tenth, seventh, hundredth, thousand, nth face, fansign after a fansign.

“Next.”

His wrist is getting sore, back is getting tired, but Yeonjun readies himself for another round of mindless chat, missing the opportunity to do his routine scans when he closes his eyes to roll back his shoulders.

“Oh.”

Yeonjun hears the voice in front of him say. It’s a singular syllable, not even a word, but it’s enough to snap him wide awake.

“Oh my gosh,” you say again. Yeonjun doesn’t feel his fingertips. “You’re even prettier up close, whoa, this is crazy.”

He’s frozen. The usual ments and words and lines that usually flow naturally off his tongue don’t come. His brain is empty. The ink from his marker seeps into the album page underneath his numb hands. He hears his manager say something, but his manager’s voice is so far away— so, so, so far away, but the face he;s been yearning for in his memories is now, all of a sudden and without warning, within an arm’s reach, right before his eyes.

The marker stumbles out of his grasp. If Yeonjun reaches an arm out right now—

“U—uh.”

—he’d be able to touch your face.

“O—oh, holy shit, okay so we’re doing this now.”

And he is. The very feeling of your soft skin, unchanged from the feeling stored in the capsules of his memories, burns stronger than the adrenaline he feels when he’s onstage under the spotlight.

It’s real. You’re real.

You’re right in front of him right now.

“Choi Yeonjun, what the hell are you doing?!”

The hiss of his manager from behind is ignored when he suddenly springs up from behind the table, and you let out a yelp when he drags you up along with him. He’s holding both of your hands, thumbs brushing over the ridges of your knuckles before pulling them closer to his chest. There’s whispering in the background, along with the snaps and flashes of the numerous cameras littered everywhere in the venue.

“Yeonjun.”

He pays no mind to them. Instead he brings up your hands to his face and presses a kiss onto your knuckles.

There’s a scream and gasp and a yell coming from somewhere.

“I’ve been waiting for this moment.”

But all he’s focused on is the swirls in your widened eyes, dizzy and taken aback, voiceless with your mouth hanging open. Yeonjun furrows his brows. “Why don’t you look happy to see me, my love?” You hack out a hard cough and Yeonjun drops your hands in surprise. “What’s— what’s wrong?” he stammers, leaning forward and closing into your face while you turn away from him, digging more unease into his bones because this...this doesn’t seem right.

“Sh—shit, I think I need to sit down, oh my god,” he hears you say, and it hits him. Yes. You were never good at expressing your affection. Yes, yes. Perhaps you’re just overtaken by a surge of emotions, that your appearance looks like that of constipated confusion of trepidation as a result of being overwhelmed by the fact that you’re so in love with him and that you’re happy to see him again.

Yes. That must be it. You’re both sat back down, and he scribbles something on your now ink-stained album. “Next.” And when you’re just about to bow and leave, he says your name— one that he thought he’s forgotten— and you freeze.

“Why do you look so surprised?” he laughs. “There’s no need to be shy. Should I kiss you again to ease your— ack!”

“Next! Next person!”

Suddenly, you’re being scurried away. “No, wait!” he yells out, but the moment he tries to get up again, he’s jerked right back.

His manager is holding the back of his collar, and you’re disappearing into the crowd. Was…was Manager Kim always this strong? He can’t even budge, can’t even run after you after he’d finally been reunited with you again.

“Choi Yeonjun, that’s enough!”

He blinks, remembering belatedly just where he is right now.

There’s still a line of people waiting for him. Yeonjun drops back to his seat, his manager losing her grip on his shirt, and he brings himself back after a round of inhales and exhales. It’s alright, he thinks to himself. It’s gonna work out. “Sorry about that,” he hums, smiling at a now different face sitting in front of him. “What did you tell me your name was?”

You’ve been separated from him yet again, but this time it’s fine. He’s not anxious. He’s certain that it won’t take centuries for you to return to each other, no— it won’t be long until then because this time, he’s not dead.

You’re both still alive at this point in time.

And that enough assures him that he’s going to find his way back to you.

“Next!”

#txt x reader #choi beomgyu x reader #choi soobin x reader #choi yeonjun x reader #tomorrow x together x reader #txt x you #yeonjun x reader #soobin x reader #beomgyu x reader #choi soobin x you #choi beomgyu x you #choi yeonjun x you #txt fluff #txt fanfic #txt imagines #txt scenarios

283 notes · View notes

ninapi · 11 months

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┊┊┊✧ ⁺ ⁺╚══ Wind Pillar ╝

Premise: A life without the demon corps was just meaningless. Living with a heavy survivor guilt can really eat someone from the inside. That was until a weak light arrived in the most unexpected way possible, breathing life back into his lungs, making him feel needed once more.

Word Count: 5081

Warning: spoilers, the story takes place after the manga’s original timeline.

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Shinazugawa Sanemi was not the wind pillar anymore, he wasn’t Genya’s older brother anymore either. There was nobody left in this world that needed him.

After losing his family and dedicating his youth to demon hunting, losing the corps was the final blow for him.

Why was he the only one left?

He should have died if not with his family back in the day he should at least have died defending his brother’s life, Genya should be the one alive right now, not him.

What is the point of being alive when everything you care for was now gone?

He wasn’t particularly good at anything else besides demon hunting, getting a regular job and settling down was definitely not his style. He walked around the neighborhood he used to live in when his family was still alive, the thought of moving back into his old house crossed his mind, maybe do some renovations, hopefully he could drown in his good memories until time would come to give out his last breath.

But the house was now taken by an unknown family. A lot of people lost it all to demons and the destruction they brought with them, it wasn’t uncommon to see abandoned houses here and there, it made sense the house was deemed abandoned, they did leave to never come back.

He had nothing left, not even his old house.

Starting fresh could be encouraging to others, but for Sanemi it was torture.

None of the dojos he visited needed new instructors, majority of them were terrified by his looks alone, if a bunch of guys hitting each other for no apparent reason didn’t want him there what type of job was he supposed to get? It’s not like he was well mannered and literate like Tomioka or had a support network like Tanjiro. What’s the point of being the second strongest pillar if the demons were now all gone.

Sanemi’s lunch was now being given to stray ducks as he had no appetite whatsoever, feeding them was more productive than remaining in such a depressing head space, that’s when an orange rolled in between his feet. He didn’t think much of it, maybe someone dropped it while shopping, but then another orange came rolling next, and then three, making him look back in confusion.

A lone cart full of oranges was coming full speed down a hill with no one pushing it. He had to do something otherwise the villagers could get hurt, he saw small children playing around the area not long ago. Running towards it he was able to stop it before anything major happened, only a few oranges were lost, and the cart was still in good shape. A young woman came running in his direction panting for her life, “Thank you so much, good sir. My cart, it was so heavy, I lost control of it on my way home.”

Not trusting your current strength, he kept on holding the cart, still thinking of the kids running around and how exhausted you looked. “Were you heading down hill?”

“Not really, I was actually supposed to go up the hill behind us, but the cart was heavier than I expected, and it wouldn’t listen to me, so it rolled backwards.” Sanemi stared at said hill with a worrisome expression, that was no hill, that was a full-sized mountain. You were small, looked frail, pale even, little cuts and scars littering your hands. There was no way you could take the cart up that mountain, and it was not like he had anything else to do.

Somehow you reminded him of his mother and how they always needed to help her move heavy stuff around and reach tall places, wanting to help you came out naturally from his heart. “Lead the way.”

“Eh? It’s ok, don’t worry about me. I can take it!” your blushy surprised looking face caused him to scoff, turning the cart around and walking up the first hill. “Like hell you can. Now shut up and tell me where to go.”

“How can I tell you where to go if I shut up?” you were doing your best not to grin at his constipated looking scowl, but instead of teasing him further you just walked beside him in silence. The climb up to your house was steep, but he didn’t even sweat, before you noticed you were now at the entrance of your property, all over way too fast.

“Thank you, good sir. You can leave the cart there I will unload the oranges.” you ran into a small shed, bringing a cloth to wrap them up and bring them all inside. If the cart was heavy, the load was even worse. You couldn’t even lift them from the ground, causing Sanemi to heave a deep sigh. “Don’t you have a husband to help you? Or someone else like a father or brothers? There’s no way you can take all those fucking oranges inside unless you take one at a time and that would take a stupid amount of time.” He grabbed the load with one hand, swinging it over his shoulder like if it weighted nothing, waiting for you to open the door to your abode.

“I do not. My entire family was devoured by a wild beast while I was being treated in a hospice, far from here. Once I regained my strength back, they were all gone. My brother was the one who did all the heavy work around here, my mother and I would pick up the harvest and take care of the animals.” you had a pretty large farm, it wasn’t well tended now but it had several crops still growing and remains of what it used to be an area for livestock. “So, I do most of the work now that I’m alone.”

He knows how uncomfortable sympathetic comments are, so he doesn’t address the information gained, “Why do you even need so many oranges?” a loud thump could be heard as he set them on the kitchen floor, making the wooden floor tremble at the weight. “I was thinking of using them to make some marmalade and sell it at the markets, growing crops is harder than I thought, and I still need to eat, so had to figure something out.”

It was somewhat comforting for Sanemi hearing about the struggles of someone with a similar background. You both couldn’t protect your family, both had to worry about an uncertain future ahead of you. Both had things the other didn’t, but it felt good knowing he wasn’t the only one out there with similar problems.

“Do you like marmalade? I got some bread earlier, come sit down. Let me make you some tea, I still need to thank you for your kindness.” he nodded looking around for a place to sit down, the climb and the lack of food were starting to get to him, it sounded like a good idea.

He never thought making marmalade could be as complex, he had nothing better to do so he just looked at you from where he was sitting. Your hands were so small you needed both of them to stir the mix in the pot, it was amusing. The focus you were putting into making the treat, the tip of your tongue poking out passed your lips in concentration, it was all very eye catching. He’s always admire people that are good at cooking, always wanted to make delicious ohagi for himself, but he wasn’t the best with his hands unless it required brutish strength.

Once the marmalade was ready, you brought it to the small table in front of him, setting down a loaf of bread, a knife and two cups of steaming green tea.

Sanemi thinks back of the last time he was able to relax this way, sad thing really, he hadn’t ever since his mother left this world. Thinking of having afternoon tea without a worry in the world, it’s been over a decade since he had the luxury to do just that.

“Is it good? Do you like it? If you don’t, I can bring out something else.” the expectant look in your eyes made him contemplate what was in his mouth. It was sweet and very refreshing, he’s never had orange marmalade before so he couldn’t really compare it to any other, but he definitely didn’t hate it and wouldn’t mind eating some more. “It’s good, I’m sure it will sell well.” happy with his reply, you tried a bit yourself making mental notes of how to improve it even more.

Teacups were empty, plates clean, it was time for Sanemi to go back to wonder around town, maybe even try to find that one inn he heard about the day before. As he was getting up from his seat heavy rain came pouring down, a loud thunder making you jump. “When it rains this bad around here it takes a while for it to go away; would you like to stay for dinner? Um…sir?”

“Shinazugawa. Shinazugawa Sanemi.”

“Would you like to stay for dinner, Shinazugawa-san? I’m (Y/N) by the way.” he was starting to worry for your well being, you were deliberately letting an unknown man into your house and didn’t even know his name, that was not safe, even without demons around. “Tch, not like I have a choice.”

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The rain was just not stopping, dinner was done for, and it was pitch black outside, the mountain’s treacherous paths were not places to wonder around in a stormy night like this one, “Shinazugawa-san, how about you stay for the night? You can stay in my brother’s room; I can even lend you some of his clothing so you can take a bath.”

A bath, it’s been days since he took one of those, an alluring offer indeed, but somehow the way you were taking the situation didn’t sit right in his stomach, rage was now bubbling inside his chest at your disregard for your own safety.

“Are you dumb or what? Do you not see me as a man? Hell, you do know you shouldn’t bring men you don’t know into your house, right? Specially not at night.” his angry outburst made you giggle, closing the front door shut to make a statement. “You sound like my brother, he used to say things like that to my mother. I do know you though, you’re the very kind young man that helped a woman in need without asking anything in return, I even know your name now.”

“So what? Is not like I couldn’t just do something to you now that it’s dark, it’s just the two of us here in the mountain, no one would hear if something was to happen, nobody would come even if you screamed for help like a damn pig. Don’t do stupid things like that even if you think you know someone, you don’t know a fucking thing about me.” he was shouting at this point, his fists shacking. He was really a kind man, all he wanted was for you to understand how evil the world out there could be, to others it could be overwhelming to have a figure like him shouting so angrily at them but you could see he was just worried.

“I won’t do it again, Shinazugawa-san, I promise. Now please come with me, I will show you where the bath is.” your attitude and gentle smile were infuriating. All he could think of was how his sweet mother got beaten down by his own father and the men he would bring home sometimes for drinks. How she could barely defend her children and would always ended up hurt, how she had no chance whatsoever to fight stronger men. You wouldn’t be able to defend yourself either, you needed some sense put in that head of yours before it was too late.

He pinned you against the bathroom wall, one of his muscular thighs going in between your legs, rendering you useless against his grip, he was glaring down at you in a strangely attractive way triggering many things within you, except fear, “See how easy it is for me if I wanted to hurt your ass? Take me seriously dammit, take every man fucking seriously, you can’t trust someone you don’t know so easily, it will get you killed.” he let go off your wrists roughly, wanting you to learn your lesson, but one of your hands reached for his, “You have a blister. Let me bring a bandage so we can clean it, it was probably the cart, it tends to do that.”

“No, stop. Why are you acting this way? Are you out of your mind? I could have assaulted you just now, open your eyes woman!”

“But you didn’t. You had more than one chance to do as you pleased with me, but you didn’t. Instead, you ate my food, laughed at my jokes, helped me when no one else did. You are a kind man Shinazugawa-san, wether you want to accept it or not. I’m not stupid, I wouldn’t invite someone over to my house if it could do me some harm.”

Sanemi was speechless. You didn’t consider him dangerous? He couldn’t even get a decent job because everyone would look at him like the killer he is. If there was someone dangerous out there it was him, he could kill you without even trying, in seconds, painfully, he was the second strongest in a chain of the strongest people humanity had to offer. There was something off with your view of the world.

“Now, stay still, I’m going to clean it.” his hand has never been held that way before, of course he’s had his wounds tended to, he’s always needing some patching up after his many battles, but your touch was different, it was so gentle, he could feel how you were really worried about him, about his tiny blister hurting with your touch, like if he was as frail as you were. “You gotta make sure the wound is properly cleaned before you apply bandages, look at yourself, all those scars…I bet they were all so painful…you need proper care if you don’t want them to get infected or leave traces. You tell me to take care of myself but wouldn’t look in a mirror first.”

Nobody talks to him like that, specially not females. The girls of the butterfly state were always scared of him and just looking their way would make them run away. The only active women in his life were his mother and sisters, he never had time to mess around with girls or to get his wounds properly taken care of, there were demons out there that needed to be killed and that’s all that mattered to him back then.

“Are you seriously not afraid of me?”

You looked up into his eyes, staring at him in disbelief, his tone was a lot tamer now you could hear the honest confusion lacing his words, “Why would I? You look tough, that’s true. But I am nobody to judge others. My brother also had many scars from taking care of the farm, even several of his toes were missing from when he stepped on a saw by accident, you’re not the only one around with a couple of fingers missing in this violent era. People used to say he was scary, all big and full of scars, skin tanned by the long hours of working in the fields, but he was a gentle man, always took great care of me and my mother. You strike me as the same type, you don’t feel like someone who would hurt the weak, you feel more like someone that protects them.”

Sanemi was left speechless once more as you left for him to enjoy his bath, you made sure the water was warm enough from the outside, blowing on the fire constantly until you heard him come out. He’s never been able to relax this much, he knew demons weren’t a threat anymore but that didn’t only mean he was unemployed, he didn’t think of what that meant fully until now. No demons meant less danger, meant being able to take his time to live life, to breathe, to relax. It was a strange feeling, not having to worry about someone bursting the door open and slaughtering the woman outside, but it was a good kind of strange.

He felt awfully relaxed that night and after years of nightmares, he was finally able to sleep peacefully.

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It’s been three days and the rain just wouldn’t stop. Sanemi had helped you covering the crops so they wouldn’t die out in the rain but there was no sign of it stopping any time soon. It was typhoon season, and it was heavily hitting you this year.

Not only did he help with the crops, but the roof also had holes in it which you two didn’t notice until you woke up to a flooded floor, so he repaired it. Your front door wasn’t safe enough for his liking, so he used his extra time to take care of that as well. He didn’t even notice time was moving this fast and days had gone by. It wasn’t as bad having something to do, keep your mind busy and your body active, regular people life wasn’t as boring and dreadful as he originally thought it was.

There was so much to do around the house that he wondered how you’ve managed to live up here in the mountain by yourself all this time. He got to learn you’ve been living here all alone for a couple of years and you have been doing all you can to not let the farm fall, your determination was admirable and made him question his own future.

“Shinazugawa-san, I enjoy thoroughly having you here, but isn’t your family going to worry? It’s kind of been a while now.” the back of his neck was strangely hot, your comment taking him off guard. He enjoyed the simplicity of the last few days comparing it to the rest of his life, he’s never been able to just sit down and listen to the rain fall on the roof sipping on a hot cup of tea, but he didn’t know you were enjoying it just as much.

“I don’t have a family. They also got killed by a wild beast long time ago, the only brother I had left passed this year, so no, nobody is going to worry about me not returning home, I don’t even have a home.” the stoic look on his face while he was retailing his life tragedy worried you, it’s something he should feel sad for, but he didn’t look sad, he looked angry, and you could understand that feeling, your family was taken away from you in the very same way.

“I bet your brother looked like you.” he wasn’t expecting that, usually people get uncomfortable with the thought of having to empathize with something they can’t understand and start apologizing, but you did go through the same, you stirred the subject around like he usually does when facing the same situation and he was grateful. “Hm, he had less scars than me, was taller, dark hair. But he did kind of look like me.”

“I bet he was kind too.”

“He was.” you were now pouring more tea in his cup, admiring the heavy rainfall through your window. “My brother didn’t look like me at all, he was way kinder, very smart, had the prettiest face I’ve ever seen with beautiful large eyes.” this made Sanemi look at your face, it was difficult to imagine a big muscly guy that looked anything close to the delicate tiny woman in front of him, but then again, he used to see his mother in Genya all the time. “Sounds a lot like you.” blood was flowing at full speed to your cheeks, decorating your lovely face with tinges of reds.

“Sometimes I wish I was the one the beast ate instead of my brother, the farm needs him, he was so good with animals and with the people at the market too, everyone loved him, he was the best of the two of us, it’s a shame really.”

Sanemi was lost in your face, the way your eyes watered at the memory of your brother, the way a soft defeated smile crept on your face signalizing guilt, he felt understood in a very deep level, strangely. “Same. I did all I could to protect my brother, I wanted him to live a normal life, get a wife, have some kids. But he ended up following me around and dying before me anyways. All my efforts were completely useless. I should have died, not him.” his fists were now shaking against the coffee table, veins popping all around his body as a rush of anger and despair rushed through him at the thought of his dying baby brother.

“I’m sure he just wanted to be with his beloved older brother. I used to follow mine around as well, wanted him to teach me how to get milk from the cow and got myself a kick to the face, turns out they get quite stressed if you’re too excited.” the absurdity of it all felt like getting some sort of medication for the illness that consumed his heart, like a serum being injected into his blood stream, cooling his anger down.

“Dumbass.” the sound of your laughter brought new air into the house, a house that is rather quiet all the time was now loud, and it smelled like a proper home.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

After two stormy days more, the sun was finally out. There was a lot of work to do in the fields to fix the damage caused by the storm. Sanemi started working on it as soon as he woke up without even asking you, and it took you both all day, something you thought would take an hour ended up extending throughout the entire day.

He was better at this than he thought he would, you even ended up planting some pumpkin seeds you got from the market a while back upon his suggestion of adding different types off crops. The front of the farm looked like a proper one afterwards bringing a powerful sense of completion to the both of you. It was hard work, but teamwork does really make a difference. And you two made a good team.

The sun was setting, all there was left to do was water the crops and prepare dinner, fresh rice already cooking in a pot inside the house. “Maybe you can grow some berries and do your marmalade using them instead of having to buy oranges, growing orange trees seems like a pain in the ass and there are wild berries in the forest, should be easy to find some and bring them here.” you were giving it serious thought, you’ve never thought about changing the ingredients, you were just replicating the treat your mother used to do for you and your brother when you were little. Being so lost in your head doing ingredient calculations and noting ideas for the recipe, you didn’t see the frog that was comfortably resting on your foot. Once you did though, panic filled your insides, you hated frogs and would always stay as far away as possible from them.

“Shinazugawa-san…there’s…there’s a-“ you looked like you were about to faint so he walked closer to you, spotting the aggressor, “(Y/N) is just a stupid frog, move your foot, it’ll go away on its own.” you shook your head closing your eyes shut, you didn’t want to hurt the poor animal out of your own silly phobia.

Sanemi crouched down to your feet, grabbing the little troublemaker and took it over to the edge of the river near your property. When he came back you were still frozen in place, sweating. “It’s gone now.” You were ridiculous, it was just a tiny frog, you couldn’t even defend yourself against a frog, how were you going to defend yourself against the odds of life. You let out a long-held breath, taking his hands in yours as a token of appreciation, quickly forgetting the hose was in your hand and getting his face completely wet.

“(Y/N)….you little piece of shit….” his face was red, a deep snarl on his face. You threw the hose to the ground and ran for your life, laughing in the process. “I’m so sorry!! Kyaaaaa, how are you this fast!” one step of his was five of yours, he caught up to you in no time and the look on his face was a sight to behold.

He wasn’t angry, his wet hair was sticking onto his face, and he was laughing. He looked way younger this way and it made you feel relived to see he was having as much fun as you did these days. Your hand reached his face, caressing the droplets of water away, a loving smile gracing your lips. He wasn’t sure when things started heading in this direction but he’s never felt that way before and he didn’t hate it.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

There weren’t more excuses for Sanemi to linger around, the rain was gone, the farm cleaned up from the storm, even the marmalade was ready to be sold. He offered to help you with the cart since it was even heavier now that the load had increased.

The idea was for him to take you downtown and then leave and move on with his life, find a job and a place to stay.

But you didn’t even know how to build the display table in the market and then unloading the cart is faster between two people. Then an old lady asked him for three jars of marmalade and by mid afternoon he was still by your side selling your goods.

“Sir, could I convince you and your wife to trade two of your jars for one of my chickens? I don’t have any money left but I would really like to take some home for my kids.” His what- the cloth he was using to clean the table ended up on the floor at her statement, taking him off-guard, you also didn’t say anything to deny it. “What do you think, dear husband? I think it would be a good idea, we could look around and see if we can find her a mate and get eggs from them.” so you were seriously not just going to ignore it but also go along with it-

“Um, yeah. There’s some spare wood in the shed, I could use that to build them a house.” the lady was now handing him the cage with said chicken, waiting anxiously for the last two jars of goodness to be her own.

“You make such a lovely couple; I wish my husband was as understanding and loving as yours. Thank you, my children and I will be forever in your debt, my youngest is celebrating her birthday today, I wanted to bring something special home.” it somehow warmed both of your hearts, you both think of days when you had a large family and how much fun you had eating delicious treats with your siblings, children laughter filling out every corner. “Thank you for your kind words, we’ll take good care of your chicken. I hope you and the children have a lovely evening!” and just like that the marmalade was officially sold out.

“So where do you think we can find Mia’s future husband?” he wasn’t sure how or when you and him became a ‘we’ but he wasn’t mad at how it sounded like and the intentions behind it. “Did you just name the fucking chicken?” he was used to your silly antics by now but it was still very much amusing to him, your quiet giggles confirming he was right. “I saw someone selling some chickens by the entrance, let’s go see if they have one after cleaning up.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Time Skip~

It’s been ten years since Sanemi started coming to this market every morning. He still misses the fun days of demon hunting, but mostly he still misses his brother. Life wasn’t as good to Genya as it was to him, and he still felt guilty from living the life he wanted his brother to have.

Having a permanent stall in the market came with a lot of responsibilities and a lot of hard work, but his strength was put to good use by the smartest person he’s ever met.

“How much for the corn?” Sanemi, who was now cleaning the small worktable looked up to tend his first customer of the day. “If you take two you get one fr- Tomioka???” Giyuu was smirking at him from the other side of the table, a knowing look in his eyes. “That apron looks good on you, Shinazugawa.” Leaving the stall behind, he walked over to his old pillar mate, it’s been years since the last time they saw each other.

“Heard your stupid ass went to live with his old master like a sissy lost baby, near Tanjiro and the gang of brats.”

Some things never change.

“Yeah, it’s been a while, we didn’t even know you were still alive.” the conversation got cut short by a child clinging onto Sanemi’s leg, getting Giyuu’s attention. “Father, mother needs your help unloading the milk crates.”

Crouching down to his size, Giyuu stares into the child's eyes, lost in the memories of his lost friends, painful days of loss came right into his heart, “You look just like your uncle.” patting the child on the head, he smiled, the ghosts of his lost comrades shining behind the toddler. “I know, I was named Genma after uncle, but my hair is like this because of mother, the rest have father’s hair.” As if on cue you came out of the back with a baby tied to your back, an older looking boy than the one before him holding a sleeping girl in his arms. “Nemi, the milk!”

“I see you’ve been busy.” Sanemi’s face was red as a beet, making him grumble insults quietly for his child not to hear.

“I’ll do it in a second, come here, I want you to meet an old friend of mine.” this was the first time any of them had addressed the love-hate relationship they had in the past as friendship, but now being older they both agree that’s what it was. “Tomioka, this is my wife (Y/N)”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you…and your four children…” the smirk on his face was so sly nobody would notice it but Sanemi, it made him want to punch his guts like he would do back in the day when they were younger.

“Is that your wife over there, Tomioka-san? I see you also have a little one, take some of our milk, our kids love it!” The child looked just like him, it was an easy guess. You were doing your best to move around with a child on your back and a swell on your stomach, a promise of another youngster arriving soon. The woman behind Giyuu came holding his son and after a long chat and bunch of laughter they promised to go to your place for dinner soon.

Ten years ago Sanemi thought he had lost it all.

And he did.

But he made a silent promise to Genya after meeting you, he would live as long as he could, never waste the opportunity to live his brother gave him, never let his sacrifice be in vain, he would live for the both of them, he would bring life to this world and protect it the way he couldn’t protect his siblings, he would protect his family until his last breath and once that moment comes and he gets to see him again, he will have many stories to share as they embrace eternity together, as family.

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Tagged babes: @doumadono

Masterlist Bonus Chapter

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