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absurdthirst · 7 months

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The Irish Escape {Modern!Pero Tovar x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 13.9k

Warnings: Rudeness, Pero being an asshole, prejudice against Americans, hypothermia, oral sex (male receiving), vaginal sex, rough sex

Comments: Freshly arrived in Ireland to visit the cottage your estranged grandmother has willed you, you run into a rude Spaniard. Unsure of why he hates Americans and why you seemingly can't stop running into him.

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.

It’s raining when you arrive in Dingle, County Kerry. You curse your suitcase as you try to drag it along the garden path that leads up to the small cottage known as Fairy Lodge. You fumble to find the key under the mat and work quickly to unlock the door, shivering as you step into the entrance, dragging your case behind you. You shut the door and shrug off your coat, wiping your boots on the mat. The cottage - tiny and cute - was left to you by your grandmother. She recently passed but you hadn’t seen her since you were ten after she decided to follow her dream and buy a house in Ireland. She left it to you in her will with the note, “always follow your dreams” and you decided to take a vacation and check the place out. It’s beautiful, even in the rain, and you are looking forward to exploring the area your grandma loved so much. After drying off and opening up the cottage. It’s quaint in the best way and you check the cupboards to find nothing, not even a pack of cookies. With a sigh, you look out of the window to find the rain has stopped so you put your coat on and make your way out onto the damp streets. You aren’t sure where to go but you googled a small pub nearby so you make your way over to it, hungry and desperate for a drink after traveling.

“Come on, mate.” William rolls his eyes and shakes his head, putting his pint down to slap his friend on his shoulder. “You should stay and drink. The rain’s gonna start again and it’s not like you can work.” He chuckles, imagining how much the Spaniard would curse working out in the rain. When Pero had shown up at his door nearly a year ago, angry and adrift with no plan for his life, he had taken in his old friend. Let him live with him until he had purchased a cottage down the road from the Garin farm. “Nothin’ better to do than drink.” Pero grumbles, shaking his head as he stands up, pushing his chair back. “No.” He huffs, pulling his coat off the back of the chair and shrugging into it before jamming his flat billed hat onto his head. “I’m not paying for your beers.” He glares at the Irishman, knowing that if he stays, he will be left paying the tab. He turns and strides towards the door, not noticing the woman turning away from the counter with a hot coffee in her hands.

You gasp as the man knocks into you and your coffee spills over his front, soaking his jeans, and you immediately bounce back. “Oh my God. I’m so sorry. I- shit.” You place the cup down on the counter and you reach for the napkins, turning back to try and help the man mop up the mess you made of him.

The accent makes him immediately seeth in rage, barely even paying attention to your remorseful expression as you shove the napkins at his crotch. Pero slaps your hands away, hissing at the heat of the coffee. “Fucking Americans.” He spits, shooting you a deadly glare. “Ruining fucking everything.” Shoving past you, he slams out of the door and out of sight.

Your jaw drops and you stare at the door as he swings on the hinges. You can’t believe what he spat at you and you turn to look at the men gathered around the bar. “I- I didn’t see him behind me.” You choke and the blonde man shakes his head, “don’t mind the miserable Spanish bastard. He’s just not a fan of Yankees at the moment.” He chuckles and gulps down the rest of his pint. “Not your fault, lass.” He tells you and you sigh, “he made that crystal clear.”

The bartender shakes his head, “Garin, that Spanish git needs to apologize to the lady.”

William scoffs, “you tell him that.”

You huff, “doesn’t matter. Can I get another cup?” You ask the bartender who nods. You sigh as you finally sit down in the corner, your annoyance at the rude Spaniard fading as you relax.

William decides that he needs to make up for his friend’s rude behavior. He stands up and groans, carrying his pint back to the bar for a refill. He nods to the bartender and slides it down to where he’s pouring you another coffee. “So.” He leans against the rubbed worn wood and shoots you what he knows is a charming grin. “Tourin’ Ireland, are ya?” He asks, making his accent slightly thicker. “Passin’ through, or will ya be stayin’ awhile?”

“Actually, I - my grandma had a cottage down the road. Fairy Lodge? She left it to me after she recently died and I needed to get away so I came to check on the house.” You explain.

William nods, “oh that tiny little place on the corner? I remember the old lady who owned it.” He nods, “sweet old gal.” He takes the pint from the bartender and comes over, sitting down opposite you. “How long you plannin’ on being here?” He asks you and you shrug, “not sure. I can work remotely so I’ll probably be here a couple of weeks before I head home. I’m going to put the home on the market. I won’t be able to get out here to maintain the home so I think I’ll sell it.” You confess, setting your mug down.

“Oh, you should stay awhile for sure.” William advises. “Make sure the land doesn’t grow on you.” He has to admit, having a younger, attractive woman in the village would be a good thing. But he also doesn’t want the home sold to someone who would not respect the land, or the people. He can’t imagine your granny raising anyone who would disrespect the lady she had adopted as her own. “Besides, ye can always ask your neighbor to check on things. We take care of each other ‘round here.”

You offer him a soft smile, “yeah…except for ‘fucking Americans’” You scoff softly as you quote his companion.

William shakes his head, “ignore Tovar. He’s a grumpy fucker.”

You tap your fingers against the mug, “well, he clearly doesn’t like Americans so maybe it’s best that I sell up.” You hum and William sighs, “well, see how ya feel. You might turn out to love it here. I know I do. I served in Iraq and all I wanted to do was come home.” He confesses and you smile again, “it is a beautiful place. I’ll see how things go.”

He nods, reaching for the beer that has been put in front of him. “Well, if you’re needing anything, I’m at the Garin farm. Ask anyone and they’ll point you in my direction.”

“Thank you. I appreciate it.” You offer William a smile and he makes his way back over to his friends. You settle in to continue reading your book and you thank the landlady for your meal as she brings it over to you. You eat and thankfully the rain has stopped when you decide to make your way back to Fairy Lodge. Tomorrow, you’ll get some groceries but for now, you’re exhausted. You quickly get ready for bed and settle in, falling asleep within minutes.

The next morning, Pero grumbles to himself as he walks up the lane towards the village. Needing some groceries, he wants to see if old man Sawyer had gotten in those wines that he had asked for. It was hard to make some of his dishes without the Spanish wines and he was looking forward to getting them.

You carry your basket around the small grocery store and you gasp when you walk around the corner to see the asshole from last night nearly walk into you again. "Do you make a habit of walking into people?" He growls and you huff, "only rude bastards who don't notice anyone in their peripheral." You hiss back, stomach twisting with annoyance at the man.

He purses his lips at you and narrows his eyes. “What’s an American like you doing in a grocery store like this?” He demands, annoyed that your mere presence makes him feel guilty for yesterday and it just irritates him more. “They don’t have all the fancy shit you would want here. Best go to Dublin and take your demanding, childish ways with you.”

You narrow your eyes and grip the basket in your hand a little tighter. "Listen, I don't know what the fuck I did to you yesterday that makes you act like a rude prick but I accidentally spilled my coffee over you and you act like I just pissed in your cornflakes. I am here because my grandma left me her house so you'll be seeing more of me around the village. Get used to it, asshole." You growl, spinning on your heel to find the ground coffee.

The news that you will be here even longer than he would like puts Pero in a mood. “Hijo de puta.” He spits, his own basket handle nearly broken as he grips it tight in his fist. The last thing he needs is some stuck up, American bitch hanging around and causing trouble. Old man Sawyer comes into view and he stomps over to him to see if the wine came in.

You don’t notice the man has left when you go to pay for your groceries and the old man starts to ring everything up. “I noticed there’s a bit of tension between you and Tovar.” He says softly and looks up at you. You’ve forgotten what it’s like to be in a small town - the gossiping and everyone knowing each other - but you sigh, holding your wallet. “I accidentally spilled my coffee over him in the pub last night and he seems to hate me without even knowing my name.” You huff, “I’m not the kind of woman that’s gonna bow over and beg for forgiveness when I already apologized.” You explain and Sawyer nods, “he’s a grumpy git. He, uh, has had a lot going on from what I have heard.” You snort, “haven’t we all? Still not enough of a reason for him to be a prick.” You say and Sawyer chuckles, “you’re fiery. You’ll fit in just fine around here.” He winks and hands you your change. “Thanks.” You say and make your way back to Fairy Lodge, wondering what happened to make Tovar such an asshole.

Pero is passing by the gate to William’s house, his own groceries in a bag on his arm and lost in his thoughts when his friend calls out to him. “Missed a bit of gossip after pouting off into the night.” He looks over at where William is pushing his best sheep, Nell, out of the way and walking towards the stone wall. He rolls his eyes.

“What, did she manage to spill a beer on you?” He huffs, smirking slightly in amusement at the idea.

“No, but she did tell me that she’s going to be in town.”

His smirk slides away and he scowls. “Sí, I know that.” He grumbles, sighing as he walks off the road and towards the wall to talk. The lane was narrow and lorries love to careen around the corners recklessly.

“How did you find out?” William is grinning, about to tease Pero for being interested in the American. “She nearly ran me over in Sawyer’s.” He snorts. “Woman - women - are menaces. Especially stuck-up, American bitches.”

“Now mate, you and I both know that’s not fair. She’s not your ex wife.” William shakes his head, “not all Americans are stuck up bitches…or cheaters.” He raises his eyebrows at his Spanish friend who came to him years ago after finding his wife in bed with their neighbor. “Besides, you always told me you wanted to move from Seville. Said you felt trapped. So you came here to bother my ass.”

“I can always kill you so you aren’t bothered anymore.” Pero threatens, only making William laugh. He knows the Spaniard won’t actually kill him and therein lies the problem. They had been in the military together, serving on the same military bases in Iraq and somehow had become friends. Or as close to friends as Pero could have. Knowing the Irishman wouldn’t pity him like so many he had known would, he had decided to sulk in the Irishman’s home village and ended up staying. “She’s just like her.” He predicts. “All pretty smiles and batting eyelashes to get her way and then she shoves the knife in your ribs. She’ll sell the cottage to some developer who will want to put some god awful monstrosity where her granny’s cottage is. Only hope it's far away from my own.”

William snorts, “she doesn’t seem money hungry to me, mate. She’s not like her. From what you’ve told me, she was charming and drew you in with a fake personality. This one seems real. She doesn’t seem to be faking anything.” William observes, “she’s not your ex wife. She just happens to be American.”

Pero rolls his eyes, knowing that William won’t understand. He’s not been betrayed like he has and had his heart ripped out. Even more to find that the baby she had just told him about wasn’t his. She had just been planning on using him. “I’ve got better things to do than to argue with you, amigo.” He grumbles, pushing away from the wall and walking towards the road.

“All I’m saying is to just give her a chance.” William shouts at Pero’s retreating form and he sighs, looking down at Nell. “He really is a stubborn bastard.”

****

You decide to spend the day in the cottage, checking out things that your grandma left here and cleaning it up. You look through the photos she left there of your family. You haven’t seen her for years but she had an album of photos your parents must have sent her over the years. You caress the book, wishing you’d known her more and you wonder why she left you the cottage. She didn’t even leave you a note in her will when you got the keys.

There’s movement in the Fairy Cottage. Pero had noticed it when he was moving some more kindling under the lean-to on the back of the cottage. The sweet older lady that had lived there had been an American, but he hadn’t held it against the feisty old woman. A light comes on and he narrows his eyes in anger. People need to respect that a house is empty without molesting it. He grabs the crowbar he had been pulling old boards off the interior walls to redo. Ready to go confront the thief and make sure they don’t walk away with anything.

You hear the back door open with a creak and you inhale sharply, unable to believe that someone is breaking into the tiny cottage in the tiny village that you believed was as safe as could be. Everyone knows each other for fucks sake. You pick up the nearest thing - a book - and make your way down the stairs to confront the invader. When you get to the bottom step, you see the shadow and throw the book, a scream escaping your lips.

Pero curses when the book comes out of nowhere and hits him on the head. Turning and swinging the crowbar threateningly. “You had better make your peace with God if you think you are stealing anything from this house!” He shouts, lunging forward to grab the criminal who has broken into the cottage. “Got you!”

You scream as he grabs the back of your sweater and you try to hit him. “Get the fuck off of me!” You tell, slapping anywhere you can reach. “Get off!”

He drops the crowbar just as soon as he hears that accent, immediately aware that he has a woman and despite everything, he couldn’t hurt one. “Ow! Ow!” He yelps, throwing his arm up to block the jarringly accurate slaps as they strike his skin. “Stop your hitting, woman!” He growls, finally grabbing your arm so you can stop slapping his face.

You can’t believe it’s him. “Oh my God, it’s you. You bastard!” You growl, trying to wrench your arm from his grip. “What the hell are you breaking into my cottage?” You demand to know, “what the fuck, Tovar?”

He would be surprised you know his name, but that bastard William has a big mouth. “Your cottage?” He shakes his head. “I didn’t know it was your cottage. The old gal that lived here died just two months….” He trails off, remembering you had said you inherited a cottage from your grandmother. That sweet old woman was your granny? He lets go of your arm and grunts. “Thought you were a thief.” He tells you. “Wanted to run them off before they could steal anything.”

You are slightly touched that he’d put himself in danger to protect your grandmother’s cottage but you are also annoyed that he broke in without any warning. “Well, it’s just me. Although I’m surprised you didn’t take the opportunity to whack me.” You scoff as he lets go of your arm and you reach up to rub it.

He snorts, bending down to pick up the crowbar and glares at you. Hating that it was you that he had run into again. No doubt you will be telling everyone what a fool he is, or perhaps calling the police on him for entering your cottage. “Might should have.” He grunts at you. “How do I know you even own this property?” He asks, narrowing his eyes at you again. “Wouldn’t be the first con artist American I’ve run into.”

You narrow your eyes at him, crossing your arms. “Wow. You’re a grade A prick.” You scoff, “my grandma left it for me and you - I don’t have to explain anything to you.” You huff, staring at him and you get a proper look at him for the first time. He’s handsome, even with that scar on his eye, and you hate that he’s handsome. “Did you, uh, did you know my grandma well?” You ask softly after a moment. The curiosity gets the better of you.

Pero stares at you for a moment before nodding. “I fixed her roof the first year she was here.” He tells you. “Delivered her peat moss to burn and made sure that she was okay when bad weather rolled in.” He rocks his jaw, having to admit to himself that he could see the family resemblance and thinks that he had seen a picture of you when you were younger. “I-” he swallows. “I’m the one who- who found her.” Sadness fills his eyes as he remembers that day. At least she had passed peacefully in her sleep.

You inhale sharply, tears stinging in your eyes for the grandmother you didn’t get to know properly. “I- I hadn’t seen her since I was ten. My parents divorced and my mom…she didn’t let my dad take me to see her when she moved here. I- I wish I could’ve known her better.” You sigh, stepping back from Tovar. “Anyway…you must be sick of me by now. The ironic thing is you don’t even know my name.”

Pero recalls the stories she had told him about her family, producing your name with an ease that startled him. “She talked about you.” He tells you. “Never stopped loving you and talking about when you were young.” The least he can do is not let you think the old woman didn’t care about you. “Maybe that’s why she left you the cottage.” He offers.

You nod, biting your lip as tears sting in your eyes when you think about your grandmother. “Thanks for telling me that.” You say, sniffing as you try to not cry. “I - I appreciate it. Do you, uh, I really am sorry about spilling my coffee over you.”

He can’t snap at you when your eyes are watering and you look like you are about to cry. “Don’t worry about it.” He tells you. “I’m sorry for breaking into your cottage.” He tells you as he shuffles uncomfortably. He’s never been good at apologies, but he owes you that. “I’ll leave you to your day then.” He tells you.

You nod, uncrossing your arms as you escort Pero to the back door. “That - I’ll fix that.” You say, not even sure of where to start to fix the door he had broken when trying to protect the cottage from faux thieves.

Shaking his head, he opens the door and bends down to examine it. “I’ll have the door fixed in an hour.” He tells you. “Need to go get some things from my tool shed and I’ll have it sturdier than it’s ever been.” He looks up and shrugs. “My fault anyway.”

You accept his offer, knowing you won’t be able to fix the door, especially not tonight, so you let him go grab his tool box and when he comes back, you’re preparing some tea. “You want some tea?” You ask, knowing the nights are turning colder here.

“Do you know how to make it?” He asks seriously. “American tea is very sweet….and cold.” He grimaces, remembering when his ex would try to make tea and he had to drink it in order to make her happy. He had hated it.

You chuckle, “I can make hot tea. Iced tea is for hot days. Or I can make some coffee?” You offer, not sure what he wants and you wonder when he had iced tea. It’s not something you’ve encountered so far in Ireland.

“Hot tea.” Pero nods. “I don’t understand how someone drinks tea that is thick like syrup.” He chuckles and then thinks to add, “thank you. I’ll get your door fixed, I’ve got another one that will fit.” He promises, opening the door and examining the frame. He had been about to replace his own door but he could always go get another one.

You nod, getting to work on boiling the water on the stove. Your hatred of Pero fades a little since you’ve managed to talk to him and you still don’t understand his apparent dislike of anyone and anything American. When he comes back, you are a little chilly and you pour the brewed tea. “Do you like milk or no?” You ask, wondering how the Spaniard likes his tea.

His nose curls and he shakes his head. “No milk.” He insists. “I cannot have it.” His sensitive stomach was something that made William laugh but milk curdled on him. It was not pleasant and he didn’t want to risk it. “Please.” He adds when he remembers that manners are important to Americans.

You nod, setting the cup of tea down on the kitchen counter for him. "It's not poisoned." You tease, "although it was tempting." Tovar scoffs and picks up the cup, taking a sip. "So...what brought you to Ireland?" You ask, curious and nosey despite knowing you risk him shutting down on you.

“My friend.” He shrugs, looking down at the cup and then back up at you. “You can actually make a cup of tea that's not shit.” He grunts, knowing that is a compliment from him. “He lived here and I wanted a change so I came and decided to stay.”

You don't push him, sensing there's more to it and you don't want to risk your newfound ceasefire. "Fair enough. I wanted a change too." You confess and lean against the counter with your cup. "I got tired of the hustle bustle living in the city...it was exhausting."

“You won’t find that here.” Pero promises, pulling his hammer out to start prying the broken piece of wood off the frame. “Unless you count when Garvin’s sheep get out and run amok in your vegetable garden.” He snorts. “Nell, his favorite, never fails to end up walking into the pub like she’s gonna order a pint.”

You chuckle, "she sounds like a riot." Pero snorts, "a handful." You watch him work, his broad back muscles moving and you bite your lip, suddenly attracted to him. He's been an asshole but you think he's sexy in a mysterious asshole way. "You like it here." You observe, a statement more than a question.

“It’s quiet.” He shrugs slightly, not willing to admit that he’s found more peace here than he had when he returned to his ‘home’ in Spain. “I like quiet. Most are bored to death by it, but there's a tranquility in a slower pace of life.”

"Sounds like a little piece of heaven." You sigh, cradling the cup of tea in your palms. "Quiet is underrated. People want to live fast but I want to stop and smell the roses...take my time with life. Sorry...too many goddamn cliches." You scoff at yourself.

“People say that, but then they get pissed when there’s no new clubs to go to or activities that aren’t for ‘old people’.” He rolls his eyes and grunts as he measures the wood. “I should go get a piece to replace this and grab that door.”

You nod, “sure.” You don’t question him anymore or ask anymore questions, deciding to focus on starting a fire to ward off the chilly fall air especially since the door is open. You’re bending over the fireplace when Pero comes back in but you don’t hear him as you remain bent over as you poke the kindling.

Pero frowns, watching you poke at the fire. “You-” He huffs and sets the wood down and walks over to the fireplace. “You’re smothering the fire.” He tells you, taking the poker out of your hand. “It’s not like a wood fire. Peat is finicky, but it burns longer.”

You want to roll your eyes at him as he tries to tell you how to start the fire. Tired of men explaining shit to you at work, you stand up and let him take over with a huff. “I know how to start a fire. Did it enough times back home. God, you really can’t let people make mistakes, can you?” You ask, confused about why he’s so critical all the time.

Pero snorts and shakes his head. “If you want your cottage to be full of smoke, be my guest.” He snarks back at you, waiting to see if you will take over again. When you don’t, he kneels down and reaches into the fireplace. Pulling out the kindling and the hunks of peat to restack them and pulling his lighter out of his pocket.

You watch him with intrigue, noticing his strong jawline as he clenches his jaw in concentration. You observe what he does and you take notes for when you start another fire. The hearth is soon full of warmth and Tovar stands up, wiping his hands on his pants. “Thank you.” You tell him, placing your hand on his arm, “sorry I- I’m not good at not being good at things.” You admit softly.

“Don’t worry about it.” He huffs out a small laugh. “Took your grandmother nearly a month of freezing to accept my offer to help her with the chimney.” He has to admit that you seem like you are self-sufficient. Strong-willed.

You chuckle, “she was stubborn. My dad got that from her. Guess I did too.” You sigh and bite your lip as you lower your hand from his arm. “It’s too damn cold to mess around being that stubborn.” You confess, “even I can admit that.”

“Well, the new door will keep out the wind better and with a good peat fire, your cottage will be nice and cozy.” He promises. “Irish winters aren’t warm, but there is a beauty to them.”

“So I’ve heard. I’m not sure if I’ll be here long enough to see its full beauty. I haven’t decided what I’m gonna do.” You confess and cross your arms, watching as Tovar continues working on the door. “You’re from Spain?” You guess from his accent.

“Sí.” He frowns as he fits the wood in and marks it with the pencil he tucked behind his ear to trim a small sliver off. He grabs his hacksaw and looks up at you. “Seville originally.”

“I’ve never been to Spain. I’ve heard it’s gorgeous. And I think they used Seville for some Game of Thrones locations. There’s so many places I haven’t been that I want to go to.” You sigh, leaning back against the counter. “You must’ve been a lot of places, having such easy access to Europe.”

“It is not hard to travel.” He admits. “But your country is larger than all of Europe combined.” He had been amazed when he had come over to meet his ex’s family. “The flights are short if you want to go on a holiday.”

You shrug, “and expensive as hell. Two hundred bucks average for a flight to another state and nothing as old as what Europe has to offer. I am thinking I might travel to Germany or Austria. Check out the Christmas markets.” You admit, “I miss home but I needed a change.”

“Sounds like more than an inherited house brings you over the pond.” Pero finishes cutting the piece and fits it back into the frame, grunting happily when it fits snugly. He nails it in place as he waits for you to answer him.

You sigh, “I wasn’t happy. I was working twelve hour days. Going on endless first and second dates but couldn’t find a man ready to commit. I was working hard to pay my rent but had nothing left to enjoy myself and I- I got sick of the rat race. I needed to leave the city before it killed me. That kind of life…it gets to you eventually. The loneliness.” You mutter, glancing over at the fire.

He snorts, having no problem being alone himself, but that was after the betrayal. Before then, he had imagined spending the rest of his life with his ex. “If you're alone, only you can disappoint yourself.” He tells you, knocking the last nail in place and starting to take the door off the hinges.

You sense there’s more to his words than he’s letting on but you ignore it, sipping your tea while he works on the door. It doesn’t take him long to get the new one swinging and he adjusts the lock. “There you go, señorita. A new door.” He announces and you snort, “least you could do since you’re the one who tore it off its hinges.”

“It was a shit door.” He grumbles, rubbing the back of his neck before he bends down and picks up his tool box. “Next time I’ll knock to scare away potential thieves.” He tells you before he nods. “Thanks for the tea.” He murmurs before stepping out and closing the door behind him. He had lost a few hours of work fixing your door and now he needs to get back to it.

You huff as he shuts the door behind him, not even saying goodbye and you glance over at the fire. Just when you thought he could be a decent person to talk to, he shuts up again. “Whatever.” You mutter to yourself and get ready to settle in on the sofa to read before you go to bed. You’re not here to be friends with Tovar. You’re here to find yourself.

****

Over the next few days, Pero keeps busy. His home is still a work in progress, the addition done poorly so he’s having to redo a lot of it. Helping William out on his farm when he needs. Keeping busy and keeping his mind off the neighbor. Sure, he’s checked on the cottage when he’s outside or looking out those windows, but he doesn’t make any effort to speak to you again, knowing that you’re nothing but trouble.

Your days are filled with exploring the village and then working remotely in the afternoon. You’ve actually never felt so at peace. You don’t see Tovar, which is a blessing in disguise. The man still rubs you the wrong way but you find yourself thinking about those brown eyes…even when they are narrowed in hatred towards you. You close your laptop, glancing out at the beautiful sky. It’s cloudy today but still gorgeous so you decide to go for a walk, explore the area some more. After putting on your boots and coat, you lock up the cottage and get started on your exploration.

Pero grumbles at the sky, loading his truck to go help William with the roof of his barn. Wanting to get it done before the rains came again. He gets behind the wheel and starts down the road towards his farm. Traveling about a mile before he sees a figure walking along the wrong side of the road. He scoffs and shakes his head, knowing exactly who it is. Slowing down, he rolls down his window and sticks his head out. “You’re gonna get wet.” He shouts. “Go home.”

You turn your head to see Tovar and you shake your head, looking up at the sky. “Only woman to get wet around you in a while, huh?” You tease with a smirk and he huffs, gripping the steering wheel. “Fine. If you want to get rained on.” You nod, “all part of the experience.” You tell him, “the Irish way of life.”

Pero snorts. “Crazy Americans.” He huffs, handing his hand out the window as he drives past you. You’ll learn. Your coat isn’t enough for the rain that is coming and you will look like a drowned rat if you get caught out in it.

You are stubborn. Something your mother told you was just like your father. Much to her annoyance. You continue walking after Tovar drives off and the wind starts to pick up. You shiver, pulling your coat tighter around you and you look up at the sky as the rain clouds come in. "Bastard." You curse Tovar for being right as you decide to head back to the village.

The last piece of roofing was being nailed into place when the first splatters of rain hit Tovar’s back. “Mierda.” He hisses, glancing up and wincing when a droplet hits him in the eye.

“Good thing we finished. It’s gonna be a blustery one for sure.” William agrees, wiping his forehead and shoving his hammer back into his tool belt. “You should go home. The sheep will come back and file into their barn quickly and I’m gonna shower and build my fire up.” He tells his friend. “You should do the same.”

You shiver as the rain comes down and you struggle to get back to cottage. The wind is strong and pushing you back as you try to get back as the rain pelts at your face. You curse Tovar for being right. You wish you had gotten a ride.

The rain is coming down in sheets, making it nearly impossible to see in front of the truck as Pero makes his way back to his cottage. He has to admit that he had gotten busy and didn’t look for you like he had thought to. Surely you had turned back and was cozy and warm in your cottage. He believes that until he damn near hits you. Swerving and nearly running off the road to keep from killing you because you’re walking in the damn middle. Cursing, Pero slams out of the truck, instantly drenched by the downpour. “Are you out of your fucking mind?” He yells, running up and grabbing your arms.

Your teeth are chattering so hard you can barely speak as Tovar grabs you and drags you into his van. You shake so hard your vision is blurry as the windscreen wipers work overtime. He slams the door shut and drives towards the village, cursing that he's soaking wet and you know you're both going to get sick from this chill.

The heater in his little lorry barely works, but Tovar blasts it, pointing the vents towards you. “Idiot.” He hisses. “You should have your pants pulled down and your ass whipped until you cannot sit.” He wipes his face and presses the gas, needing to get you home and out of those soaked clothes. “I told you to go home, but you’re too fucking pig-headed to listen.”

Your teeth chatter but you manage to say “fu-fuck you. I- I was on the way home.” You tell him and place your hands closer to his air vents. You desperately want the heat to seep into your bones and you shiver as Tovar races to your cottage.

“You would have already been home if you had listened to me.” He reminds you, taking one hand off the wheel to start shrugging out of his coat. It’s damp, but it has to be warmer than what you have on. “Stubborn Americans who think they know it all.”

You gasp, inhaling the warm air from the heater. "Wha- what th- the hell is wrong with - why the fu- fuck do you hate Am- Americans?" You ask him, still shaking. You watch as he hands his coat to you. "Put this on." He growls and you don't argue, wrapping his coat around you.

Pero whips his van into the small spot that is closest to your cottage and hisses a curse as he jumps out to run around to your door. Knowing that he needs to get you inside as quickly as possible. Get a fire started and get you stripped out of those clothes. Yanking your door open, he drags you out of the seat and tries to shield you from the rain as much as possible. You are shaking violently and he knows you’re close to, if not already, hypothermic. “Inside.”

You nod, letting him take you inside. You didn’t lock the cottage - having heard from the villagers that nothing happens - so Pero shuffles you inside and immediately starts to strip off the coats. You should be embarrassed and angry that he’s stripping clothes off of you but you’re so freezing you don’t care. You shiver and he helps you out of your boots. “Wh-why are you doing this?” You ask, watching him as he leaves you in your soaking wet jeans to work on getting the fire going.

“You could die.” He spits, his hands working quick and steady as he stacks the peat and kindling to light. He needs to get you warm and dry as fast as he can. The damp chill could have you sick with pneumonia within a day if you aren’t careful. As soon as the tender starts to smoke, he turns towards you and unbuttons his flannel shirt. Body head is needed. Stomping off towards your bedroom, he strips the quilts and blankets off of it before coming back into the main room. “Can you take your clothes off, or do I need to do it?”

Your eyes widen at his broad chest as he comes back into the living room with the blankets. You nod, teeth still shattering as you work on removing your wet clothes until you are in your underwear, wrapping your arms around yourself. “Sur-surprised you - you care so much.” You choke out, still freezing cold.

He grunts, rolling his eyes and nearly tells you that he doesn’t care but that wouldn’t be truthful. He doesn’t want to find another member of your family dead. He spreads a blanket on the floor in front of the fire and pushes you towards it. “Lay down.” He orders, immediately starting to strip off the rest of his clothes, including his underwear. He knows you might be prudish like most Americans, but when you are trying to warm up, you can't wear any wet clothes and your panties look soaked. He ignores your gasp and drops to his knees, gathering the rest of the blankets at his back and reaches for your panties, pulling at them to take them off and they shred apart in his hands.

You gasp, knowing you should push him away but when he pulls you close, into his body, into his warmth, you shudder and inhale deeply. Feeling the sensations come back into your body as you give in and curl around him. Breathing him in, you lift your leg over his, trying to get even closer to him, seeking his warmth.

His hands start rubbing, massaging heat and feeling back into your body. He thinks about anything but the softness of your breasts pressed against him. Knowing that if it weren’t for this serious situation, you would not be naked in his arms. “You’ll get warm.” He promises, feeling you shake and your teeth chatter. Your body is like ice and he shudders slightly as he transfers his heat to you under the weight of the blankets.

You breathe him in, thankful for him showing up to save you even if you’ve not gotten along so far. His hands rubbing all over your back and you eventually relax, the shivering stopping as you warm up. You kiss his chest, silently thanking him for finding you even if you can’t vocalize that right now as you curl around him, seeking his warmth.

He knows you will get sleepy, it’s your body’s way to try to recover from the energy it had expelled to try to keep you warm. “Go to sleep, espléndida.” He murmurs quietly. “I’m not going anywhere. You’re safe.” He knows that he can’t pull away right now. Even though you are warmer, you still need more of his body heat to fully warm up.

You mumble into his chest, listening to his beating heart as you fall asleep in his grip, feeling safe despite the man curled around you being insufferable in every interaction you’ve had. You aren’t sure how long you’ve been asleep when you wake up alone, the blankets wrapped around you, the fire roaring and you hear noise coming from the tiny kitchen. “What - Tovar?” You croak, wondering where he went.

His boxers on his hips, Pero appears in the doorway as soon as you call him. “Wait.” He orders, not wanting you to get up. Disappearing again and within seconds, he is coming back into the room with a tray. It was one your grandmother had often served him tea on, so he was familiar with it. Your cup of tea is in addition to a mug of soup. You need something warm in you. The hearty stew was one that your grandmother had canned two years ago, so he knew the rich broth would be good.

You sit up, keeping the blanket tight to your chest as he carries the tray over and he has his boxers on. Shit, he’s attractive. More than that…he’s hot. Really hot. You swallow harshly, throat dry as he sets the tray down in front of you. “Thank you.” You tell him, looking at him as he sits down next to you. “This is - you poison it?” You tease softly, voice a little raw from the cold wind you breathed in earlier.

He snorts and shakes his head. “Not poisoned.” He huffs. “I just saved your life, why would I poison you?” He asks, picking up the tea and handing it to you. “It’s got honey and lemon in it, your throat will be raw.” He murmurs, blowing on the steaming liquid slightly before he hands it off.

You take it, your fingers brushing his, and you moan softly as the tea soothes your sore throat. “I- I don’t really know how to start saying thank you for saving my life. I would’ve frozen out there. I didn’t think the storm would come in so quick.” You confess, watching him as the flames and shadows flicker over his face. “I guess I can start by saying thank you.” You say after taking another sip.

“You’re welcome.” Pero is slightly surprised that there’s no sarcasm in your statement. “Almost ran to my house to get some whiskey to pour in it, but it’s still raining outside.” He tells you, the rain beating against the windows. “So, it’s not quite as good as it could be. But I made you some stew.”

You set the tea down and pick up the mug of broth, taking a sip and you groan. “You made this?” You ask and he shakes his head. “Your grandmother. She made it. Canned it a couple of years ago. She gave me some jars.” He reveals and your eyes widen as you look down at the cup in your hands, “I wish I could’ve known her better.” You sigh, “she seemed like a great woman. I- I’m writing a book about her. That’s why I came here. She fell in love with Ireland and I’m writing a romance novel based on her life.” You confess, “her grand escape to Ireland after divorcing her husband.”

He’s surprised by that, lifting his brows and humming. “A romance?” He should scoff, but he can’t manage the sound to come out of his throat. “I guess Ireland would be a romantic place to escape. If you’re looking for that.”

You sip your broth before you look at him. “I must admit I had my wild fantasies dreaming about meeting a handsome man in Ireland and shacking up in a cottage to love our lives away but I- I know that’s - it’s silly.” You shake your head, “especially when I literally bumped into you and you hate Americans.”

“You would hate Spaniards if your ex was one.” Pero tells you. “Especially if he had cheated on you. Even though he would be an idiot to cheat.”

You frown, setting the broth mug down. “You think…your ex was American?” You ask, confused and curious. “And she - shit - she cheated on you?”

Pero sighs, looking out the window. “Sí.” He murmurs. “We were- I met her when we were both stationed on the same base in Iraq. She was with the Americans, I was with …anyway,” he shakes his head. “We got married. She was pregnant. They made her leave her military position and we went to Spain.” He blows out a sigh. “And I found out later that she was cheating on me and the baby wasn’t even mine.”

You inhale sharply, “shit. I- I'm so sorry. That's - Wow. What a shitty thing to do. It’s - that’s monstrous. I’m so sorry Tovar-” You ramble and he cuts you off. “Pero. My first name is Pero.” He says and you nod, “Pero.” You say softly, “I’m sorry that happened to you. No one deserves that. Is that why…why you hate me? Because of my accent? My homeland?”

“She was just as stubborn as you are. Always right and having to have her way.” He shrugs. “I guess that I just don’t like women right now.” He admits after a moment. “I gave my heart to that woman and she tried to pass off the proof of her infidelity as my child.” He growls.

You shake your head, shifting closer to him to reach for his hand. “I’m sorry that happened to you, Pero. No one deserves that. I - I can understand why I triggered that anger in you. That’s unforgivable and I’m sorry someone did that to you.”

That bastard William had told him that you weren’t his ex. Pero rubs his cheek. “It’s not your fault.” He admits quietly. “You aren’t her and I shouldn’t have been an asshole to you,”

You sigh, letting go of his hand, “and I shouldn’t have been a bitch but I’ve never been good at people not giving me a chance.” You confess and sip your tea. “Can we start again?” You ask and he stares at you so you set your cup down, holding out your name. You introduce yourself, “and you are?” You ask, offering him a playful smile.

He grunts, watching you for a moment. “Pero Tovar.” He tells you. “Grumpy asshole from Spain.”

You chuckle, “great to meet you, grumpy asshole from Spain who saved my life.” You add and he shakes your hand. You stare at him, your smile fading as his grip on your hand is tight, reluctant to let go. You keep holding his hand, your eyes searching his as you keep the blankets close to your chest to keep you covered up until you let it drop, exposing your skin to his eyes.

Pero’s eyes widen and drop down to your breasts for a moment before he jerks his gaze back up to your face. “Hermosa….” He grunts, confused as to why you are showing him your body. “You don’t owe me anything.” He promises.

You nod, "I know. I- I'm not saying thank you. Well, I am. But not like that. I - I think you're handsome." You confess, "...sexy." You add and he frowns softly. "If you don't..." You trail off and reach to pull the blankets up your body, standing up on shaky legs. "Do you want a drink? I think my grandma had a bottle of brandy." You make your way into the kitchen, blanket wrapped around your body.

He thinks he’s embarrassed you and he doesn’t want that. He can’t deny you’re beautiful and he had been fighting an erection the entire time you were asleep once you were warm. Standing up, Pero pulls off his boxers and follows you into the kitchen to find you standing at your grandmother’s drink cabinet. “Do you want me to touch you, hermosa?” He asks, bracing his arms on the counter and trapping you against it, his lips close to your ear. “You are a beautiful woman, and I would enjoy finding out what makes you shake in pleasure.”

You whimper, unable to control the shiver that runs along your spine as he hovers behind you. You want him to touch you. He's been a bastard but you would be dead if it weren't for him. You understand now why he was antagonized by you and you forgive him for his barbs. You lean back against him after letting the blanket drop from your body. "I want you to touch me." You whisper, turning your head to look at him, your lips brushing his chin.

“I’m not gentle.” He warns, knowing that it’s been too long since he has touched anyone and he’s not a suave lover like Garin claims to be. He slides his hand up to grab your breast and squeezes the flesh.

“I don’t need gentle. I don’t want gentle.” You tell him, covering his hand over your breast and you squeeze a little harder. “I want you.” You add, kissing his jaw.

Pero growls, his hardening cock pressing against your ass. “Drop the blanket.” He orders, pulling you away from the counter and dragging you towards the main room. If he’s going to touch you, it will be in front of that fire so you stay warm.

You follow his order, nearly tripping over the blanket as he guides you into the living room and you whimper as he lays you down on the blankets you still have piled near the fire. You lay down, waiting for him to touch you as he kneels down near you. “Pero.” You whisper, biting your lip as you wait for him to make the first move.

He watches you for a moment before he lunges forward, his lips smashing against yours in a hard kiss. Covering your body with his and pushing your thighs apart with his knee to settle between them. Groaning into your mouth at the taste of you as his hands fill themselves with your breasts and hips.

You moan into his mouth, your hands caressing his back as he kneels over you, his hands squeezing your flesh. His tongue slides into your mouth and you eagerly grant him access with a low groan of his name muffled against your lips. Your hands slide down to his ass, squeezing and bringing him closer so his cock is pressing against your thigh.

Pero rocks against your thigh, groaning and pinching your nipple harshly. Kissing down your throat and biting down on your shoulder before he ducks his head and sucks your nipple into his mouth to bite.

"Fuck." You hiss in pleasure as he grinds against you and sucks on your nipple, paying it attention until you are swapping over to suck on the neglected one. "Shit baby." You pant, reaching between you to wrap your fingers around his thick cock.

Pero groans at the feel of your hand. It’s been so long since he’s felt any touch but his own. His cock twitches and his hips buck into your grip. He lavishes attention on you, loving the way you moan.

You twist your arm, trying to jerk him off as he surrounds you, the spicy scent of his skin combined with the smoke from the fire he started. Your free hand slides through his hair as he kisses the skin below your breast and you whimper, getting wetter with each kiss.

Pero is a harsh lover, he bites and scratches and fucks hard, but he’s also attentive. He wants his partner to feel good. To drown in him. Scattering bites over your skin, he works his way south, nipping your hip bone. “When was the last time you were devoured, hermosa?” He demands, cutting his dark gaze back up to your face.

Your chest heaves as you look into his dark eyes, hungry with desire for you and you don't remember the last time you were devoured. You shake your head, "I- too long ago. My ex...he didn't - he didn't do that." You confess breathlessly.

Pero snorts, shaking his head at your worthless ex. “Then you will remember this.” He promises. His tongue slides around your hip bone, dragging across your stomach as he settles his broad shoulders between your thighs and pushes them up to rest there. Making a show of settling in to look down at you glistening cunt. “Such a pretty cunt too.” He smirks, looking up at you again as he lowers his mouth to your folds and winking right before he dives in.

"Shit!" You squeak, thighs clenching against his head in surprise as he licks into you like a man starved. "Pero." You gasp as he flattens his tongue against your clit until he decides to suck it between his lips. Your hands tangle in his hair as you slump back to look up at the wooden beams on the ceiling.

He loves eating a woman out. Loves her taste and the way she responds to his touch and effort to make her scream. His fingers slide around your entrance for a moment and then he buries two down to the knuckle and curls up inside you.

You cry out as his thick fingers curl inside of you. Making you moan his name loud enough for the entire village to hear as you buck your hips into his face. His free hand slides up to squeeze your breast and your hand covers his, eyes squeezed shut as he laps at your clit.

Groaning into your cunt, he samples you. Tastes you like you are the finest whiskey or his precious Spanish wines. Pumping his fingers inside you to find the spot that makes your body spasm in pleasure and growling when he finds it

"Fuck. Oh shit!" You hiss, walls fluttering around his digits as he curls them to find that spot that makes you moan. Your chest heaving as you tangle your fingers in his hair, pushing him further into your cunt. "So- yes. There. Cl-close." You pant, stomach clenching.

He growls, sucking your clit in his mouth and pulling on it harshly, before he twirls his tongue around it and starts to flick his tongue over the little bundle of nerves. Pumping his fingers into you faster and harder, wanting to see how hard you break.

You fall apart within seconds. “Oh my fuck - fuck!” You squeal as you clamp down on his fingers, soaking them as you cum for the first time in a long time. Nearly pulling his hair out as you cry out.

He snarls, lapping at you faster and pushing his fingers deeper when you start to cum. Feeling you soak his face as his cock throbs against the blanket on the floor. Working and pushing you through your orgasm with the determination of a man possessed.

He pushes you higher until you have to push his head away, overstimulated, and you feel like your body is on fire from his attentions. “Fuck, I- Pero. I need you.” You beg, “let me - I need you inside of me.”

He grunts, smirking as he crawls up your body. Aching to push inside you and feel those tight walls squeezing his cock like they had his fingers.

You grab the back of his neck when he’s hovering over you to drag him down to kiss him. Your tongue slides against his to taste yourself on his mouth. You reach down to grip his cock again, pumping him as you kiss him.

Pero groans your name into your mouth, almost like a plea. Rocking his hips into your hand and lowering down so you can guide him in. When you notch him at your entrance, he bites your bottom lip as he drills his cock deep into your wet cunt.

You moan into each other’s mouth as he pushes deep in one thrust, making you cling to him as he stretches you out. He’s thick and you are certain you’ll feel him tomorrow if he’s as rough as he claims to be. You wrap your legs around him, the blankets crumpling up beneath you as he starts to move.

Pero doesn’t hesitate. Bracing his hands on the floor beside you, he starts pounding into you at a rough, hard pace. Feeling your walls giving with every deep thrust as he drives himself into you over and over, groaning over how well you are taking him. “Mierda.”

He’s rough and takes what he wants but fuck, you love it. You whine, throwing your head back and he wastes no time leaning in to bite down on the skin above your pulse. Your walls clench around him every time he pushes deep and hits something devastating inside you that no one else has found. “Pero. Shit. Oh God. I- it’s so good.” You almost vibrate as you speak, shaken by his thrusts.

Hissing, he tries to hang onto his control. Feeling it slip as he continues to rock into you. You're so fucking good and it has been the best sex he's had in ....ever. Not even his ex felt like you do. Dropping down to his elbows, he shoves his hands under your back and starts biting along your shoulder, leaving imprints of his teeth with every piercing thrust of his cock.

Each bite on your skin has you clenching around him and you struggle to maintain control until you give in. Whines escape your lips as his pelvis drops into just the right position that he’s grinding against your clit and your heels dig into his ass. “I’m gonna - oh fuck. Pero. Pero!” You cry out, clamping down on his cock and practically shaking beneath him as you soak him with your orgasm.

The shout Pero lets out is hoarse and rough, pushing deep and grinding even deeper for a split second before he is ripping free of your cunt. Panting as he realized he had not spoken with you about birth control and he could not risk filling you up. Coating your belly, breasts and thighs with ropes of his hot seed as he spits out another curse.

You pant, watching him as he pumps his cock to paint you with every drop of seed that drips from his body. His chest heaving and you stare up at him in awe. He’s incredible and you know that all your previous fighting means nothing compared to this perfect moment of bliss. “You- you could’ve cum inside me. I’m on birth control.” You tell him breathlessly, knowing it’s too late now.

“Shit.” Pero hisses, huffing slightly and dropping his head against your shoulder. “I didn’t- we hadn’t- fuck.” He grumbles, rolling off to the side and onto his back to reach off his undershirt to wipe your skin clean.

You watch him clean you up and you turn onto your side to look at him, “it’s okay. Maybe next time you could…?” You trail off, biting your lip as you wait for his reaction. Unsure if there will be a next time.

Pero smirks and nods. “Next time.” He agrees, tossing the shirt off to the side and rubs a hand down your side. “How are you feeling?”

You hum, closing your eyes with a smile on your face. “Better. A lot better. I’m warm and satisfied and - thank you again for rescuing me.” You say as you open one eye to look at him, “you’re not too bad for a grumpy asshole.” You smirk, closing your eyes again.

He snorts, rolling his eyes and sighing, “you’re not bad.” He admits. “For an American.” He adds, smirking himself as he moves his arm and nudges you slightly, seeing if you want to curl against him.

You take the hint, shifting to curl into his side and he quickly pulls the blanket over you. You sigh, breathing him in and kiss his chest, exhausted again after his rigorous fucking. You’ve turned a corner with the Spaniard and you’re interested to see how things go from now on.

****

The sunlight starts to shine through the windows of the cottage, the gap in the curtains letting in light that makes you wince as you wake up. “Pero.” You murmur, shifting to sit up and you pat the space beside you only to find the man you fell asleep with is gone. You frown, calling his name again and when there’s no response, you huff. Deciding to give him the benefit of the doubt, you stand on shaky legs and head upstairs to get ready for the day. Perhaps he had an early start.

“You slipped out of the house like a thief?” William shakes his head and frowns at his friend. “Why would you do that? She deserves better.”

Pero huffs and rolls his eyes, shuffling guiltily as he looks up the road towards your cottage. “She’ll be going back to America.” He reminds the Irishman. “I don’t need to be getting myself involved in that mess.”

William snorts, eyeing Pero suspiciously. “I’ve never known you to turn down pleasure. A fling of some kind. Unless you like her more than you are admitting.” Pero scowls again and shuffles, not answering.

It’s been a couple of days since you’ve seen him, which is an accomplishment in the tiny village. You are in the grocery store when old man Sawyer tells you about the village fete. “It’s the harvest festival. In the church hall. There’ll be food and booze of course.” He winks and you chuckle, wondering if Pero would be there. It’s unlikely as he doesn’t like people. “Maybe I’ll see you there.” You tell the older man as you pay for your groceries. “See you there.” He says with a chuckle and you take your bags, pondering if you’ll go to the fete.

You decide later that you won’t hide away so you get dressed and make your way over to the church hall, shrugging off your coat once you’re inside and there’s music from the local band of teenagers and various tables with food and drinks. You immediately feel eager to mingle. That is until you look around to see Pero standing there with William, his dark eyes focused on you.

“Go talk to her.” William shoves at Pero’s arm, making him stumble.

Turning, he glares at his best friend. “Amigo….” He growls, warning him not to mess with him tonight. He’s been busy trying to avoid you and here you are, looking prettier than ever.

“If you don’t, someone else will.” William warns him.

You avert your eyes, pissed off he didn’t even come to see you after he slept with you. You walk over to the drinks table, greeting Gladys who lives down the road from you and she hands you a cup of hot cider. “How are you dearie?” She asks and you sigh, “confused.” You confess and she frowns, “what?” You shake your head, “I’m good, Gladys.” You tell her and she smiles at you, nodding until her gaze shifts to behind you. You turn your head to look and your eyes meet Pero’s. “Hi.” You murmur, fingers flexing around the cup.

Pero looks at you for a moment, studying the anger in your eyes and he feels guilty, guilty for avoiding you. “You’re still here.” That’s what he comes up with to answer you. Hating it the moment it comes out of his mouth, but he won’t take it back.

You stare at him for a second, “I’m still here.” You observe, glancing around the room until your eyes meet his again. “So…you've been busy?” You ask, a little sarcastic but you’ve never been known to be timid, especially when it comes to men who run away from your bed.

“Busy enough.” He grunts, not sure why he even came over. You don’t seem happy to see him at all, not that he can blame you. It’s not like he’s gone out of his way to check in after the other day. He had convinced himself that you still hated him, and had run with it.

You nod, "busy enough to not even stay for a cup of coffee?" You ask, raising your eyebrows at him, "or was it just pity? You felt sorry that I nearly froze to death and you decided to fuck me...or was it so you could brag to William? Tell him you tamed the bitch in Fairy Lodge?" You snort, keeping your eyes on his, refusing to look away.

Eyes widening, he glances over at Gladys to see if she is listening. Shame making his face burn, and in turn, pissing him off. “Nothing could tame you.” He snorts. “I’m not a magician.”

You chuckle, “clearly you are since you made yourself disappear.” You huff, taking a sip of the cider. “If you regretted it, you could’ve just come to see me and tell me that instead of leaving me to think I did something wrong or…or I wasn’t good enough.” You finish quietly.

The sound of your voice is what makes his anger deflate. “I- you’re leaving.” He murmurs quietly. “I - I’m not a casual lover. I don’t sleep around anymore.”

“I’m not gonna stick around and be treated like shit.” You snort, “I could go back to America and deal with American men if I wanted that.” You tell him, setting down the cup of cider just as the band starts to play.

Pero narrows his eyes, hating that you are comparing him to American men. He’s not a boy who plays games, but apparently that’s what he’s been doing with you. “Fine.” He grunts, grabbing your hand. “Let’s dance.”

You let him drag you onto the makeshift dance floor and there's a few elderly couples dancing but everyone has their eyes on you and Pero. "Everyone is looking at us." You murmur and he stares at you, not looking around.

"Let them." He says, pulling you closer and you don't push him away.

"You don't care?" You ask, keeping your eyes on him.

“Why would I?” He asks. “People stare because of my scar. They stare because I’m a mean looking bastard.” He shrugs, used to the looks. “Or they stare because I’m holding the prettiest girl here.”

You offer him a soft smile as he looks at you and you reach up to wrap your arms around his neck. "Your scar makes you look dangerous...and sexy. And you look grumpy...not mean. And you think you are not good enough but you are...and I- I wish you would let people in to see that." You finish, cutting your gaze across the room to see Gladys smiling at you and Pero dancing.

“I'm not the man you think I am.” Pero grumbles. “I have done a lot of shitty things, even to you.” He reminds you. He doesn’t want you to think he’s some white knight when he’s not.

You look at him again, “no one is perfect. Hell, you know I’m not. I know you’re not. But…but I think you are good deep down. You’re just hurt.” You murmur, “and I know why but I didn’t - we started off on the wrong foot. We were both mean to the other.”

“We should not fight.” Pero agrees, nodding. Even if he doesn’t feel like you know him enough to make that judgment, it’s nice to have someone besides William believe in him.

“I- I’m supposed to go back to America on Monday.” You tell him quietly, wondering if he will pack your bags for you to get you out of Ireland and away from him, from his mistake of rescuing you…sleeping with you.

“Oh.” Pero frowns and swallows harshly. Knowing that he’s wasted time that he could have been spending with you and quite possibly made this better than it had been. “Big plans back there?” He asks.

“Just work and…and I don’t have to go back. I can change my return flight…or cancel it…” You trail off, “unless you don’t want an American living here full time?” You test him, wondering what his reaction will be.

“You still don’t know how to make a fire worth a damn.” Pero tells you, watching your brows pull together in confusion. “It would be hard for you to learn over there. Bet you don’t even have a fireplace.”

You shake your head as he rocks you both to the beat. “I don’t. I wouldn’t be able to make a fire…I’d definitely forget. So…I think I need to stay to make sure I learn properly. Perhaps you could teach me?” You ask him quietly, preparing yourself for him to practically escort you back to the airport.

“It’ll take a long time.” He cautions, pulling you closer to him. “I’d probably need to check on the fires during the night. Make sure you don’t burn down your granny’s cottage.”

“What a gentleman.” You smile, tilting your head towards his, “I definitely think you’d need to check on them nightly. I don’t think anyone in the village wants a fire. So…it looks like I’m staying - for fire starting purposes only.” You tease, taking a chance to kiss his neck as you lean closer.

Pero groans at the light contact of your lips, turning his head and capturing your mouth in a kiss for everyone here to see. Not caring if they do and telling them all that he wants you. Claiming you in front of them so that there are no misconceptions about what he wants. You.

You cup his cheek, responding to the kiss, and you let everyone see that you are with him. The parishioners all stare and you smile against his mouth. “Come home with me.” You murmur when he pulls back but keeps his forehead against yours.

“Are you sure, hermosa?” He asks quietly, knowing that he had hurt you the last time he had slept with you.

You nod, “I’m sure. I want you to come home with me and show me how to start a fire.” You murmur, stopping as the song comes to an end and you let go of Pero to clap your hands, waiting for his answer.

Pero smirks, willing to take a risk with you when you are also taking a risk on him. Nodding, he motions towards your cottage. “Let’s go, I need to show you a lot of things if you’re going to live in Ireland.” He grunts. “Starting with how to properly leave a party.” It’s all the warning he gives you before he bends down, scooping you over his shoulder before marching off the dance floor with you like a medieval mercenary carrying off his kidnapped bride.

You squeal, giggling as he carries you out of the hall and you cling to him as he strides down the hall. “Where are we going?” You ask as you tilt your head and notice he’s not carrying you to your cottage. “My place.” He says and you are surprised but let him continue his journey, the wind whipping cool on your skin.

You've never been to his cottage, he's well aware of that. Marching down the road and not slowing down a bit. "Best place to start teaching you is where I am comfortable." He admits, slapping your ass. "Kept expecting your granny to come out and catch me with my ass showing."

You chuckle as he sets you down so he can unlock his door. You lean against the wall as he fumbles with his keys, “she definitely would’ve told you to put some pants on.” You tease and he finally opens the door, “and what’s my next lesson?” You inquire as he guides you inside and you see the masculine but cozy cottage he lives in.

He hadn't really thought much beyond taking you home. Getting you here. He hums, his own fire slowly smoldering and the inside of the cottage warm. "Temperature control." He decides. "What to do when it's too hot."

You smirk, licking your lips as you look at him, “and what do you do when it’s too hot.” He smirks back at you, “get naked.” You nod, slipping off your shoes and you work on the buttons of your dress. “I think that’s a smart idea.”

"It is." He grunts, taking off his jacket and then lifting his shirt over his head. "Getting too hot is just as bad as being too cold." He rolls his eyes towards you. "And you know how that feels."

You glare at him playfully and you shrug your dress off, letting it fall to the floor and you move to push your tights down but Pero scoops you into his arms. “I’m still hot.” You tell him, your arms wrapping around his neck.

"Yes, you are." He won't deny that, arms coming around you and sliding down your sides to your hips. "Your panties and bra are what's keeping you hot." He murmurs.

You giggle, “yes. They are.” You let him reach behind you to unclasp your bra as you caress his chest and you lean in to kiss his clavicle as he slides the bra down your arms. You squeal when he grabs your ass, lifting you over to his sofa and he lays you down on it. “Fuck. These need to go.” He growls, pushing your legs apart so he can grab the thin material of your pantyhose and he rips them, making you gasp and wet your panties in arousal.

"Oops." Pero snorts, not even slightly sorry about ripping your pantyhose. He never understands why women wear them, although he can understand under your dress since you are unused to the chill of the Irish weather. He grins and pulls them off your feed and tosses them aside. "Need to teach you to quit wearing that shit." He grunts. "Harder to get to you."

You giggle as he drags your panties down your legs and you spread your legs further apart once he tosses them over his shoulder to expose you to his hungry eyes. “Need to see you too.” You tell him, reaching down to unbuckle his belt.

"Yeah?" He lets you undo his belt, feeling like you want him and it's a thing to savor. It might be a fling, but the look in your eyes is telling him that he should trust that it will be more. "Taken with me?"

You scoff, “I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t, Tovar.” You tell him, working on unbuttoning his pants after you toss the belt aside. You reach into his pants to pull his hard cock out, groaning as you get to see him properly. “I want to suck you off.” You tell him, meeting those dark eyes.

"You don't have to do that." Every blow job he's had in the last few years has been begrudgingly given. Complaints about sore jaws or him always wanting head. He had stopped asking for them, stopped her from giving them if she tried to initiate and it's almost like a reflex. Nothing that can be held over his head, until he takes your wrist and realizes what he's doing. "Uh...my ex..." he bites his lips. "She would always complain about it. Or use it to guilt me into something."

You scoff, “she sounds…wow. Lay down.” You order, pushing on his chest and he nods, shifting to lay down on the sofa and you straddle him. “Too Goddamn sexy for your own good. Definitely for my good.” You chuckle, leaning down to kiss him. You slide your tongue against his until you are kissing along his jaw, down his neck, and down his stomach until you reach his cock resting against his stomach. “I want to give you a blowjob. I want to make you feel good. For nothing in return.” You promise and take him into your hand, squeezing him as you look into his eyes as you press your tongue against the slit, tasting his pre-cum.

"Shit." Pero hisses, eyes fluttering closed for a moment before he opens them again. Needing to see you touch him. To see how eagerly you want to touch him. It's not all Americans that are horrible, it was his ex. She was a bad apple. He reaches down and cups your cheek. "Fuck baby," he pants, "So fucking pretty and sweet."

You hum around him as you take him deeper. Loving the way he groans and reaches down to caress your cheek. You love the way his jaw clenches and his cock twitches inside of you as you widen your jaw to take more of his length until he’s hitting the back of your throat and you gag, unused to giving head to a long cock like his.

"Pull off, hermosa." He urges, pulling your cheek up but you shake your head and continue to bob up and down on him. Making him groan as he feels the exquisite bliss of your mouth around him.

You want to make him feel good, look after him like he did looking after you when you nearly froze to death. You moan around him, caressing his chest and you bob your head a little faster.

"Hermosa...." he groans, feeling you starting to pull his orgasm out of him and he doesn't want to cum yet. He wants to make sure that you cum first. "Ride me." He begs quietly, twitching in your throat at the thought.

You won’t deny him. You pull off of his cock, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, and you straddle him. His cock pressing between your folds and you are soaking wet. You look down at him and his hands immediately find your tits. You lift up to position him at your entrance and you slowly sink down onto his cock.

"Mierda." He hisses, rocking his hips up to thrust up into you. Bouncing you slightly and sinking deeper into your tight cunt. "You are so pretty sitting on my cock."

“Not bad for an American?” You tease, starting to rock your hips on top of him. Your heart pounds in your chest as you look down at him and you know you couldn’t leave. Not with this unspoken thing between you. It’s not quite love but it feels like it could easily evolve into it. You lean down to kiss him, bracing your hands on the arm of the sofa behind his head.

He doesn't answer because he wouldn't even know how to answer. It's not because you are an American, but because you are just you. His hands slide up your sides and he holds the back of your head, deepening the kiss as you start to slide your tongue against his.

You rock back onto his cock, your tongue sliding against his and your hands tangle in his hair, moaning into his mouth as you find an angle that makes the head of his cock rub against your g-spot.

“Shiiiiiiiit.” His moan is muffled and he throbs inside you. Loving how you clench down around him and he squeezes your hip with his free hand.

You moan into his mouth, rocking back onto him and he slips out of you. You whine at the loss of pleasure but he reaches down to push himself back into you and you swivel your hips to find the same angle. You soon find it and rock back onto him, getting closer and closer to cumming.

“That’s it, hermosa.” He grunts out, leaning in to bite your shoulder. He lets go of your head, reaching down to start rubbing your clit. Wanting you to cum for him before he spills inside of you,

You whine when his fingers rub your clit just right and you are close. Grinding back onto his cock, trapping his hand between you, you get closer and closer until you cry out his name. “Fuck!” You choke, clamping down on his cock as you soak him with your orgasm.

"Perfecto." He groans, rocking his hips up and driving his cock deeper into you as he takes over. Letting you collapse against his chest as he wraps both arms around you and fucks you through, chasing his own orgasm. Panting out your name as he thrusts one last time, burying his cock deep as he paints your walls with his cum.

You whimper, kissing his jaw as he pants into your ear. “Cum for me, Pero. Cum. Wan- wanna feel it.” You beg, grinding back to try and egg him on as his cock twitches inside of you.

You moan, loving how it feels to have him paint your walls with his hot seed, silently thanking your IUD as he pulses deep. You kiss along his jaw, “feels so good.” You pant, relaxing on top of him.

"Stay." He murmurs, panting as he tries to catch his breath. "I want you to stay, hermosa." He presses his lips to yours again. "I want to be grumpy to everyone else. Not you."

You nod, pressing your lips to his again. “I’ll stay. All you had to do was ask. I’ll stay and I want to see where this goes.” You tell him, kissing his chin. “You’re a grumpy bastard but you’re my grumpy bastard.” You tease, caressing his cheek. You never imagined you’d come to Ireland and find the man you spend the rest of your life with but you have and you don’t know it yet but you have a beautiful life ahead of you with Pero in Fairy Lodge.

#pedro pascal #pero tovar #pero tovar x reader #pero tovar x you #pero tovar x f!reader #pero tovar smut #pero tovar fanfiction #pero tovar imagine #pero tovar fic #modern pero tovar #modern au

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look-at-the-soul · 5 months

Note

Cia I adore this gif you sent! (Thank you for the inspiration!!) I immediately got the idea but other stories came to my mind first 🤭

Still loving you

Robert Fischer x reader (and it’s also part of my grandma tribute) ♥️✨

Word count: 3,246

Robert waited next to the carrousel, there had been trouble with the system and people had to wait in order to pass with a custom. He just hoped this would be solved quickly because he had a meeting in…

That laugh and that voice only belonged to someone. Turning around he stopped looking at the screen on his phone.

No.

This couldn’t be happening.

¿Y/N?

Robert felt his body froze, his heart rate increased and memories came back and hit him like an avalanche. After all these years.

Flashback:

Y/N felt her knees go weak the moment she saw Rob stepping down his vehicle. Dressed in an immaculate suit with a silky black tie and that effortlessly hairstyle that suited him so well, his face seemed to be made by a Greek God.

It was odd that he asked about her appointment at the salon, perhaps he’d send his driver to pick her up for the gala…

She tried to grab his face to give him a welcome kiss, but Robert stopped her, giving Y/N an emotionless stare. She soon was aware of his cold reaction.

“What’s wrong?”

Robert shifted his weight from one foot to another uncomfortably.

“I’m going to the United States.”

Y/N blinked confused by his statement.

“What? When?”

He wanted to reach out and touch her, but instead he decided to hide his hands inside his pockets. “Tomorrow night, it’s all settled.”

“But.. but I thought you’d be starting on the September course.”

“No, I enrolled in the summer program.”

“Okay, I could cancel my Venice holiday and meet you there then…” Y/N proposed, thinking of some way to make it work.

They had just graduated and she was hoping they’d take the next step in their relationship soon, so moving in while he focused on his master degree in a foreign country sounded promising.

“I could start hunting apartments right away, are you staying in a hotel meanwhile babe?” She smiled again, thinking it could be good he took the lead and moved there first, so he could explore the area and find potential places. “But first I’d need to fly there, do you think your Dad would still let me use his private plane? He had said before anytime, but since you’ll be there…”

“Y/N…” the way he said her name, made her look at him. But she didn’t like what she found in his eyes. “This is why I needed to see you. I’m going away for a couple of years, we’ve to end this. Right here, before I go.”

And she couldn’t hear anything else he said, because her ears were buzzing, she felt like she was underwater and that someone was stealing the air from her lungs.

“But I could fly over and be there, lots of people have a long distance relationship nowadays.”

“Don’t make this more difficult.” He begged, making an effort to keep his emotions at bay.

“You can’t be serious.” Y/N blinked nervously, trying to find for a sign in Robert’s face that this was a bad joke.

She waited a few minutes, eagerly to hear him ask her to come with him, that he was only messing with her, he was always joking.

But when he didn’t back off, she swallowed hard.

“Really? You can’t even tell me a valid reason to break up with me?” Tears would start falling any minute now.

“You know I’m going to start my master degree overseas. It’s for the best.” Robert tried to excuse his sudden decision.

“The best?”

She barely had time to process the sudden news. How long had he been planning this?

Anger took over her, pinching the bridge of her nose, she tried to control her emotions. “You know what? Do whatever the fuck you want Robert! Go and study your goddamn master, I hate you!”

Taking her purse, Y/N rushed, needed to get to her car as fast as she could. She had dreamed Robert would ask her to go with him to the United States, to live together and then, get married. But instead he broke her heart? He was he love of her life, they had plans together for the future, they were good… or at least she thought so, now realizing how selfish he really was.

Tears ran free down her face and she cursed in frustration now realizing how selfish he really was. The son of a bitch, he didn’t care about anyone else but himself.

Y/N never saw the way he broke into a crying mess. Feeling guilt eat him alive for causing her such pain. But he was suffering as much as her or probably even more, she had been his rock, his safe place to hide, he could be real and honest with Y/N. But now, not only she was gone, but that part of him as well.

Robert kept his head down during the entire ride to the charity event his family was hosting, thankfully his driver kept quiet. Images of Y/N giving him a look full of sadness and disappointment for breaking up with her filled his mind, he hoped the image would stop haunting him at some point. He didn’t want that to happen, but he was convinced if he focused solely on his studies, he’d make his father proud.

They were still young, he wanted to prove he was worth of the Fischer company and he needed to work hard to achieve that.

Putting on an emotionless expression, he took a few shaky breaths to mask the fact that he was dealing with a broken heart.

Walking past the directors and board members of the company, he shook some hands, everybody was expecting a lot of things from him, he had a very important place to fill in…

“Darling, over here!” His grandmother’s voice caught his attention among the people. “Where’s Y/N?” She turned her face around, searching for her.

“She isn’t here grandma.”

His maternal grandmother gave him an expectant look.

“Why not? She was so excited yesterday.”

“I just broke up with her.” He explained uncomfortably, his jaw clenching.

His grandmother couldn’t believe his words, Y/N was the most charming girl she had ever met, she had Robert drooling over her, her family was respectable, she was well educated, smart, funny, beautiful, everything anyone would kill to be.

“I need to focus on my maste-”

But his grandma was already shaking her head and giving him a disapproving glance.

“This is the worst decision you’ve ever made. And you will regret it for the rest of your life.”

(End of flashback)

And his grandmother was right, he did regret it every single day. He finished his master and started working for his father’s company, he had made his family’s wealth bigger than he ever imagined.

But none of that really mattered, because he let true love slip away from him that night.

And now she was standing a few steps away from him. And she was still the most beautiful girl in the room.

“Why is that man staring at you?”

Zoe whispered at her friend confused. Was he even blinking?

Y/N frowned and turning her face around, she found the man that broke her heart years ago.

The world stopped spinning for an instant and the air escaped her lungs. She could practically feel her blood running out of her body.

All the memories flashing back at her, as if it was a movie scene. His cold words playing over and over in her mind.

No, time doesn't heal anything. It’s just a way to disguise the pain people say to cover an uncomfortable silence.

And she knew it still hurt like the first day because even after all these years, she still cared about him.

Robert managed to leave his initial shock behind, and he finally started moving towards her.

What should he say? Should he greet her with a kiss on the cheek or keep his distance?

The heaviness in his heart grew as he saw Y/N blinking, looking from side to side as if trying to find a way to avoid him.

“Y/N.” Her name on his lips seemed to burn.

She could feel her friends whispering in shock, they must’ve realized by now who he was because they knew the story.

How are you supposed to react in moments like these? Say it’s lovely to see you! No, because it wasn’t.

Could this be their chance to talk about what happened? He wondered if she had someone in her life. He opened his mouth to say something but nothing came up.

“Robert.” She raised her eyebrows, but other than that, he didn’t get much. Except she folded her arms in front of her chest, in a protective reaction. “All right, let’s go.” She stammered to the girls, wanting to go as fast as she could.

“There’s a problem with the car rental, they canceled.” Zoe announced and threw a subtle glance in Robert’s direction, he was still standing there, looking at Y/N.

He noticed Y/N wasn’t wearing a wedding band on her left hand, she was carrying a book in her bag.

“We’ll get an Uber then.” Y/N proposed trying to make her friends start walking.

“It’s extra expensive right now, it’s rush hour.”

“I’ve a driver waiting for me.” Offered Robert. “I could take you anywhere.”

A heavy silence fell upon them, you could hear a pin drop. Zoe and Lisa looked at each other, not fully believing what was happening. Then, they looked at Y/N.

“This isn’t a good idea.” She admitted in a low voice, avoiding his eyes.

“Hey c’omon we won’t be able to make it on time with this traffic.” Lisa pointed out.

Zoe gave Robert a suspicious look.

Whatever was crossing his mind, his ego dropped to the floor, he had been waiting for this moment all his life.

“I think a ride won’t hurt nobody, right?”

Before Y/N could protest, Lisa practically jumped on Robert, not wanting to give Y/N time to react. “I hope you’ve enough space in that vehicle because we overpacked.” And she grabbed him by the arm as if they were long time friends. “I’m Lisa.”

“I think I’m going to throw up.” Y/N grabbed Zoe’s hand for reassurance.

“Take a deep breath honey, this is not the right time to have a breakdown, you’re stronger than this.”

“Why him? Why now? After all this time…” Y/N’s eyes darted again towards Robert, who was walking several steps ahead with Lisa still hanging from his arm.

“I don’t know, but perhaps you were meant to run into each other, it was just a matter of time.” Zoe gave her friend a sympathetic look. “It still affects you.”

Her friend’s statement made Y/N stop walking.

It did. It still hurt her definitely. But it was only because Robert had been the love of life.

That was the truth, plain and simple, over time she of course started dating another man, but as soon as she realized things were about to get serious or that he would take the next step she decided to end the relationship not wanting to get married to the wrong man.

She wasn’t scared of marriage, she hated the idea of waking up one day and feel disappointed of the choices she made, it didn’t make sense probably for most of the people, but she rather choose to be alone.

Of course she never expected to see Robert again, there were a lot of things left unsaid between them. And all of those years apart didn’t prepare her to face him once more.

She remained quiet on their way towards his vehicle, the internal turmoil taking over with each step she took. And there he was holding the door open for her, giving her the sad and traumatized puppy eyes a pet would use after being scolded.

“I’ll go in the back.” Announced Zoe climbing in while the driver took their luggage.

Lisa gave her friend a curious look. “Can I go in the front? I get car-sick.”

That left Y/N sharing the second row of seats with Robert.

Y/N shook her head slightly while she tried to control her heart drumming like crazy, all their memories flashing her back in time to when they were happy, when they first kissed, when they first made love and of course, when he broke her heart.

A heavy and uncomfortable silence filled inside the vehicle.

Y/N tried to focus her gaze in the sighting they were passing through the busy streets, the man in the bicycle, the three women at the café, the elderly couple with their dog, anything but the man sitting next to her that was subtly looking at her and clearing his throat. She could feel his eyes on her, boring into her soul.

“Where am I driving to Sir?” The driver asked, waiting for instructions.

Lisa gave him Y/N address, she had a small loft in the city and they’d be staying there for the book signing event.

A million thoughts crossed Robert’s mind, he wanted to apologize first. But after all those years? Y/N could hardly stand to be in the same car with him clearly. What could he say? How could he even even begin to justify what he did to her back then? There wasn’t a single valid reason for leaving her the way he did.

And for what? To get his father’s approval? To show the old man that he was worth to be his son?

He lost the best damn thing that could ever happen to him. He lost her over nothing.

But now he was willing to give everything for her.

When they arrived, Y/N thanked the driver, took her bags and mumbled a very lowly thanks to Robert through gritted teeth, then she excused to rush to use the ladies room, leaving Robert standing there in the middle not knowing what to do with a million words to say and a sincere apology trapped in his lips.

Zoe approached him quietly, she had known Y/N for over ten years and given her reaction to the odd encounter, despite all, she knew Y/N still cared about him.

“Can I ask you a question before anything else?”

Robert crossed his arms and gave her a nod.

“Are you single?” That was the most important thing to know first.

“Yes.”

Then, onto the next question. “Call me a witch if you want, I don’t know you… but I know her. Do you still have feelings or something? I know it got messy the last time you talked but...”

Robert allowed himself to let his guard down, the one he had built after losing Y/N. He never let another woman into his heart. His bed? Yes. But not his heart.

“I don’t think it matters, she can hardly stand to look at me for two seconds.” He saw the pain was still there in her eyes.

“She’s going to hate me for doing this but if I can help in any way it’s worth the risk…” Zoe assured him. “I’ve a book signing today at four o’clock, this is the address.” Noticing the confusion in Robert’s eyes, she added; “this isn’t my business but I know the two of you’ve an unfinished business.”

Robert stared at the flyer, wondering what was the right thing to do.

“What if she doesn’t want to see me?”

“Oh it’s going to be hard, trust me.” Zoe then took her best friend side. “And if you hurt her again, I’m going to give you hell for ruining it twice.”

As the girls walked inside the apartment, Robert took his time to process everything, and taking his phone, he called his assistant to clear his schedule for the day, his mind couldn’t stop thinking of the series of events that just happened.

***

Robert took a look at his watch impatiently, then stared out the window of his vehicle and his eyes stopped at the women walking down the street. A grandma with what looked like her granddaughter, strolling with their arms linked, their eyes focused in the articles before their eyes and it made him think immediately of Y/N and her grandmother. How many times did he found them just like that, then they’d drive back into her grandmas house for lunch or dinner, the same with his grandmother.

When everything was simpler and happier. When they were together.

“Mr. Fischer, they are done signing the books.” His driver informed him.

Marcus didn’t ask him anything further, and without intention the man pressed him to make a choice. Walk in the book store and try to apologize to Y/N or drive away and leave behind a small possibility to get her back.

All damn day he kept thinking about her and what they had. How different his life would be if only he didn’t let her go that day.

But guilt was eating him alive, for the damage he caused her.

Did he deserve to be happy for once?

A bald man stepped out of the store, holding the door open and then he saw Zoe and Lisa walking out.

But when he saw Y/N hiding her beautiful eyes behind her sunglasses, he soon realized by just one look that he never stopped loving her.

“Y/N!” It was an impulsive move, but he couldn’t stop himself. “Wait…” he pleaded her, the three girls turned around to face him.

She gave him a confused look, not knowing what he was doing there or how he knew. Would the feeling of being incomplete without Robert would ever go away? Her heartbeat went crazy.

Knowing there was a possibility that Y/N could reject him, Robert cleared his throat and hid his hands inside his pockets. “I owe you a sincere apology, Y/N and I know it won’t take away what I did…” two pairs of curious eyes stared back at him. “I’m really sorry.”

Y/N stood there processing his words unsure of what to do or say. A million thoughts crossing her mind.

“If you want, we could talk? Privately.” He struggled to say the words, not because he didn’t mean it, because he was terrified of getting a negative answer. His next words came out as whisper whilst he looked down. “If you agree of course.”

Time slowed as Y/N took a deep breath, pondering on his words. Had she been waiting all her life for this moment? Was this the closure her heart needed?

She opened her mouth to explain him, she already had plans with her friends, but Zoe gave her a disapproving glance, reading her mind.

“I don’t know what will happen next,” Y/N said cautiously, “but I think a chat it’s a good start.”

“Thank you.”

As soon as she said those words, she felt free, relieved even for carrying the burden for so long. Whilst for Robert, this was the small light at the end of the tunnel.

They both knew it would take a lot of time to rebuild a relationship like they did. But at least this was the first step to try to get back the love they once had.

And without a doubt, he still loved Y/N.

Robert Master list

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@onlydeadcells @prettylittlehoneyeyesxoxo @cloudofdisney @blondie-22 @esposadomd

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#that’s what Cill said #robert fischer x y/n #robert fischer x you #robert fischer fanfic #robert fischer imagine #robert fischer x reader #cillian murphy characters #robert fischer inception

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unnervinglyferal · 4 months

Text

My old friend and ex-roommate came over yesterday. Neither of them is scared of new people but they were both awkward at first. My old roommate hadn't been to the apartment since the group home folks had helped us move, and he had never met my daughter. His first words at the sight of her were "oh fuck it's alive." My girlfriend's great-grandma asked them whether they'd like to hold the baby, but both the two of them and Bug looked at each other in a way that made it clear that none of them want that. They don't want to hold a baby and Stinkbug didn't want to be held by them either.

After a while of chatting while standing around the apartment, my old roommate admitted with some embarrassment that he had completely misread the nature of this visit and had a backpack full of beers for this. My girlfriend immediately informed them that if we're going to drink, we'd better be doing that outside. The family matriarch agreed, it's a nice weather out there. I told them both that I'm not going to drink, though it's all fine if they will. My old friend offered to go pick me a case of something else to drink if I'd like. Diet coke would be fine - that's enough of a rare treat.

So we sat outside on the yard bench swing and talked, catching up on what both of them are doing now and sharing stories of what my time before the group home had been with my old friend, and how times at the group home were with my old roommate. I think it was good to have them both here at the same table - I don't think either one would have believed a half of the other side's stories without an eyewitness to back it up.

I didn't smoke but out of old habit I rolled cigarettes for them - my old friend had a pack of factory smokes but hand-rolled ones are still cheaper, I needed something to occupy my hands, and he promised to pay my roommate back for the tobacco he smoked. It's pretty clear that despite of being a student he's currently the one of us who has the most money.

It was a nice, warm evening and as it went down, my friend and old roommate had pretty much gone through my old roommate's beers, when my friend mentioned that he actually also has some weed. I told them they're free to smoke it somewhere else but they are absolutely fucking not doing anything that will summon cops on the front yard of the house where my family is sleeping. My old friend was baffled that he'd ever live to hear me say shit like that, but the way he laughed sounded like he's proud.

It was around 9 pm by then, the two of them were out of beers, and it was starting to get cool outside, so we agreed it was best to call it a night while we were still all having a good time. My old friend and ex-roommate had found a lot in common with each other and agreed to carry on to a bar somewhere, and maybe smoke that weed. My old friend mentioned that he knows a guy who gives rides around here for a little fee, who might be on call tonight. My ex-roommate said he knows one as well, and for shits and giggles they decided to text their own car guy at the same time and see which one responds first.

Within the same minute, they both got a text - almost identical one - asking if they'd be down to share a ride with someone else who's around the same area. It turns out they knew the same damn guy. I sat with them until their ride showed up - I had never seen this guy before, myself - and headed inside.

I put all the clothes I had on straight to the wash before taking a shower and going to bed next to my girlfriend. She asked me if I'm sober and asked if we had fun, and was back asleep before I could answer the second question. My skin and hair still smell like cigarette smoke, but I can do my best to not bring that outside world in here. My friends are out there in it, but I'm not bringing it home to my family. Their life is out there, mine is in here.

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doberbutts · 1 year

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Yeah I'm super white but I grew up using aave because I had black friends. Lots of other people from different cultures did as well since I guess in that sense it was integrated. After high school I tried to change how I spoke since it is considered an improper way to speak and I don't want people to get the wrong idea that I'm trying to appropriate it. My college was also majority white so it might've been just a general uncomfy thing but I couldn't imagine how it would be for someone who actually is black and I can see why you don't use aave commonly around just anyone

There's so many layers to why a lot of black people code switch and don't use AAVE around anyone except other black people or, potentially, nonblack people they specifically grew up with and know for sure aren't weird about it.

The reason idgaf if nonblack people use AAVE is exactly as you described- nonblack kids growing up in majority-black areas are going to be exposed to, and subsequently use, AAVE. If Kevin the white boy always hangs out at Jamal's house because they're close friends, he's going to learn how to talk like Jamal, his parents, his siblings, and whoever else lives in that house. That's just how language acquisition works.

I have a friend who is white and always hung out at her Chinese friend's house when they were kids. They were best friends from elementary school all the way through high school and beyond. She was constantly in that house with her friend and her friend's family. Her friend might have spoken perfect Standard American English, but her friend's grandma spoke exclusively Cantonese, and her friend's parents were significantly more comfortable in Cantonese than English. So, my friend knows Cantonese. That's how language acquisition works. She spent years in a Cantonese-speaking household and still speaks it well enough to this day to be able to converse freely with native speakers.

There's a lot of situations like that in many languages so in general idgaf as long as [general] you're not weird about it. But people are sooooooo weird about AAVE.

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apollos-olives · 5 months

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Hey, this is a somewhat complicated personal thing? But I’d really like your weigh in on it— you’re a blogger who’s perspective i respect a lot. I’m wondering if i have the right to call myself palestinian.

A bit of background- i’m a romani-jew. My family is, as far back as i can trace, indigenous to palestine, but when my grandmother was a baby was forced out and fled across the continent to romania, and eventually she left for the US to become a doctor. I believe this was around 1947 when they were forced out, if i’m pinning it to other timelines, but she isn’t sure and neither am i, so i don’t think i have the right to claim that. She doesn’t identify as Palestinian, only roma, and practically raised herself without her parents (who were absent via work) and identifies as jewish, vehemently anti-israeli and not actively practicing because of that. I was raised jewish, but really often with scorn to most local jewish orgs and institutions, and i know my family is very actively excluded from the bullshit ‘right to return’ programmes in our area because we are, well, roma, despite how at this point compared to my grandmother we are very pale— to them, it’s a blood thing. My father is no contact with my grandmother, so i was not raised with her. My father does not identify as Palestinian as well. I wasn’t raised with her culture and practices because of that— I am almost completely divorced from what would be my own culture, but i still, when i hear her stories now, and her perspective on the very active genocide going on, wonder if i have the right to speak on it as a voice with any authority on the matter. Am i able to identify as palestinian? Do i have any claim to it at all, really?

i wrote practically a whole essay and then tumblr deleted it right before i could post. so i'm gonna make my response significantly shorter, but i'll explain why.

you are not allowed to call yourself palestinian. you were never raised as one, you were never part of the culture, and your family does not identify at all as the people of the land. you have not lived your life as a palestinian, and you do not have claim or authority to speak on the matter at the same level of other palestinians at all. it is not your right to call yourself palestinian, and claiming to have any authority of what the palestinian experience is like is incorrect. i assume you're about a quarter palestinian, yes? but only by blood. not by culture or connection or anything. your family identifies as romani, and do not identify with the palestinian identity. you have not experienced life as a palestinian, diaspora or not, and you have not suffered the same type of oppression that indigenous palestinians have faced. while your father would be half palestinian (i assume), he could technically be considered as palestinian diaspora (as would your grandmother), but since both of them have been disconnected from the culture, and don't identify as palestinian, then you do not have claim to that identity. like for example my grandma is half (i'm unsure about the percentage) turkish and palestinian, but my mom does not identify as turkish, and i do not identify as turkish either, because i was never part of the culture and never lived my life as a turkish person. i can say im part turkish by blood as a random fun fact, but claiming i have authority to be a turkish person is not correct. i also want to mention that being palestinian is a nationality, not a race or a specific ethnicity, so that is another factor you must consider when evaluating your identity.

you can, however, look more into palestinian culture and try learning about it. i hope when palestine is free, you can come visit and fall in love with our hospitality and culture, and look into your ancestors who lived there. and if you'd like to connect back with your palestinian roots, that's absolutely something that we are welcoming and would love for you to do. many palestinians who fled during the nakba have a tough history and connection with the land, so i'm sorry your grandma had to leave and disconnect with palestine, but i hope one day you can come to a free palestine and celebrate with us.

if your grandmother was a baby during the nakba, i assume you're very young. around teenage years (early twenties maybe). i know that figuring out your identity is a big part of this stage in your life and you're probably looking into your family's past. i suggest to look into palestinian culture, but don't discard the romani and jewish part of you. being part of those communities is a very culturally rich experience and you should be proud of that. don't stress too much on having to "choose" what you're trying to connect to.

in the end, i can't tell you what to identify as with your romani-jewish family and your palestinian ancestry, but calling yourself palestinian currently is not right. i hope i answered your question.

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jungle-angel · 10 months

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Family Ties Are Stronger Than Time (Rhett Abbott x Reader)

Summary: You're supposed to beon bedrest for a bit after just having had the boys so Rhett decides to take Amy with him to visit an old friend and learns something about a family member that shocks him

Notes: A very, very Happy Hannukah to all who celebrate, I feel bad I haven't done much but this has been sitting in the back of my brain for a while. I hope it came out well enough, I was nervous writing it but I'm hoping it came out well enough 🥰🥰🥰🥰

Warnings: Mentions of war, birth etc.

"Alright sweetheart," Rhett said to Amy. "You ready?"

"Yeah!" she exclaimed excitedly.

She hopped down the steps of the general store you both owned with Rhett helping her down onto the snowy sidewalk and into the truck where he buckled her into her carseat. He placed the blue and gold box full of baked goods next to her, hoping that they wouldn't spill over on the ride out of town. He and Cecelia had painstakingly made them for three days, hoping that they turned out alright.

Down the roads they went, out of downtown and back to the more rural areas in town where ranches became a more common sight than buildings. They passed by the Waldorf school where Amy and Hannah both attended kindergarten and preschool respectively, the grounds now covered with snow and the farm across the street with it. Rhett had to laugh a little as he had lost count of how many times he had gone to the farm across from the school to help fix a tractor or help the farmers with their cows.

Finally, they came to a lonely little stretch of ranch, the old farmhouse sitting on top of a little hill with stretch after stretch of fence surrounding it. He pulled up to the garage and parked the truck, letting Amy out and taking the box with him.

"Go ahead Doodlebug," Rhett told her. "Go ring the doorbell."

Amy rang the little bell next to the door and in a split second it was opened by an elderly woman with white hair, her eyes lighting up when she saw Rhett and Amy.

"My sweet I didn't think you were coming!" she exclaimed happily.

"What, Sara? Ya'll thought we were gonna ignore ya'll?" Rhett chuckled.

"You.....you, you get in here, come, come in," Sara beckoned.

Rhett and Amy both went into the house and removed their coats and shoes. "Elie around at all?" Rhett asked.

"No, no, he went to go help Officer Joy or something," Sara told him. "Here, I'll fix you both something."

Rhett loved coming down to visit Sara. Ever since he was a little kid, he loved the way the elderly Polish woman made him feel welcome in her home and had even taught him a little bit of her language. Sara and Elie Abramowicz were as close with the Abbotts as the Duttons were, more like family than friends.

"Where is (y/n)?" Sara asked.

"She's all holed up in bed," Rhett chuckled. "Boys were born two days ago."

"Ah and on the first night of Hannukah no less," Sara said with pride.

"Oh, speaking of which," Rhett said, seating himself on the old, rickety barstool at the kitchen counter. "Made these a few days ago."

He gave Sara the box and when she opened it, her face lit up. "You didn't!" she exclaimed.

Rhett laughed before he and Sara hugged. "Didn't burn the kitchen down makin'em either," he laughed.

"Oh Rhett," Sara sighed. "You know I haven't been able to make sufganiyot since Mama passed away. Thank you. As if Elie and I didn't owe your family enough already."

"Sara what the hell are ya'll even talkin about?" Rhett asked her. "You don't owe us nothin."

"Oh but we do," Sara insisted. "And it all goes back to your Oma."

"My grandma?" Rhett asked.

Sara nodded.

"Wh.....what'd Oma Heidi have to do with anything?"

Sara scrunched her deeply wrinkled brow. "You mean to tell me that your Papa never told you?" she asked him.

Rhett shook his head.

"Here," Sara said, putting the box of fresh sufganiyot next to the toaster. "You stay and I tell you."

Rhett stayed put, keeping a careful watch on Amy who was in the living room playing with Elie and Sara's boarhound, Boris. He waited for Sara to finish making a mug full of heady black tea before she seated herself across from him.

"You know that Elie and I used to live in Warsaw?"

Rhett nodded.

"I remember a long, long time ago after the invasion," Sara began. "We were trapped in our city like animals, nowhere to run and nowhere to hide. Elie and I, we were so young, fifteen and seventeen years old and in terrible danger. Every night we all prayed for a miracle."

Rhett could almost see it before his very eyes and the terrible scene that played out in his mind like a movie.

"Your Oma had come to us with a group of people who claimed they could help," Sara continued. "French and German resisters who were bent on getting people out of the hands of the Nazis. We didn't trust them at first, but quickly we realized we had no choice. "Six hundred of us fled from Warsaw in 1943," Sara explained. "Six hundred. We went on foot, by rail and by truck, all the way to a safe place where we hid."

The more Rhett listened to the story, the more the shock ran through his very core. Royal had never said anything about his mother or about what she had done before leaving Switzerland.

"You see Rhett," Sara said. "It is because of your Oma that we and so many others lived. That is why Elie and I remain close with your family. After we came to America, your Oma and I remained very close friends, so much so that she came to fetch me the night you were born. I made a promise to your Oma that I would watch over you when she passed Rhett.....and Elie and I intend to keep that promise."

Rhett could feel his eyes burning. He had never known. "Why didn't Dad say anything if he knew?" Rhett asked her.

"Do not blame your father Rhett," Sara answered. "That was your Oma's wish. Your father knew how much pain she had gone through for others and didn't wish to inflict that pain on anyone else."

He felt a few loose tears falling from his eyes when he heard Sara's story. "Wish she was still here," he croaked.

"Ah but she is," Sara assured him. "I know she is Rhett."

It took him a while to process the story he had just heard, but after a while, Rhett felt an immense sense of pride, knowing how strong his ties were to the people who were like family to him.

Rhett heard a truck pulling up a little while later when who should appear but you and Royal with Hannah, each of you carrying a little carseat that safely held Tatum and Tanner, your twins.

"Hey Sara," Royal called as he entered. "We come bearing a Hannukah gift for you and Elie."

"Royal Abbott, you march into my house while your son is here...."

Royal laughed, unable to make out the rest of what she had been saying.

You and Sara talked a good long while while Rhett talked things over with Royal. Surprisingly enough, Royal was more than understanding about the whole thing.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell ya'll sooner son," Royal said. "I saw how much pain it had caused Oma.......I didn't want any of that pain passed onto you guys."

Rhett tried hard to hold back the tears in front of his father but he couldn't. Royal pulled him in and held his son when he saw that look in Rhett's eyes.

When all was said and done and everything had settled, you and Rhett gathered in the living room with Sara and Elie when he had returned, the two of them absolutely head over heels for your boys. Cecelia had joined you a little while later along with the rest of Sara and Elie's family. The grandkids all taught Amy and Hannah how to play dreidel and the delighted shrieks and shouts that came from the living room had you and Rhett in the best of moods.

"Think they'll sleep ok tonight?" you asked.

"No doubt darlin," Rhett chuckled. "Just wait till Christmas Eve."

You half laughed and half groaned at the thought, knowing Amy and her Dutton cousins would all be up till some ungodly hour, having eaten all the candy in their stockings. You and Rhett shared a sweet kiss as you watched the kids. Rhett looked out the living room window and saw that one of the stars was shining a little brighter that night, mouthing a silent "thank you" to his Oma Heidi, who he was sure, was watching over you all.

#rhett abbott #rhett abbott x reader #amy abbott #royal abbott #cecelia abbott

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snickerdoodlles · 2 years

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so a few weeks ago, @majestictortoise and i were talking about VegasPete cohabitation negotiations. because the thing is, these two spent like 3, maybe 5 days max actually existing around each other before going im going to spend the rest of my life with him. very sexy of them to do that, except five minutes after they were both on the same page about this, Vegas does his best swiss cheese impersonation and then they spend several weeks in the hospital waiting for him to heal and reaffirm that yep, this is the man i want to spend forever with. again, very sexy of them to do that, but this means that they’ve been together for several weeks but still don’t know what its actually like to LIVE with the other person, much less live together plus one Macau. and on top of this mess, they also have to face the fact that none of them have a single clue how to run a household because none of their lives have been normal.

the first hint of their coming domestic clashes is, of all things, the dishwasher.

Vegas is freshly released from the hospital. none of them want to return to the minor family compound, or have anything to do with the mafia in general tbh, so Pete and Macau had spent the hospital’s no visitors hours reviewing Vegas’s dubiously acquired real estate properties for somewhere to live. two weeks before Vegas was due to be released, Pete and Macau had picked a cozy home in the suburbs and Porsche loaned a bunch of minions to get it dusted and fitted with some basic furniture. also, as the only one of them who’s ever been a homeowner, Porsche also thought to walk through the home with Pete and make sure all the taps were working and the electricity was running and the utility bills paid. a true bro, that one.

anyways, its their first evening at home. they’re still living on takeout because no one has the energy to cook (that’s Vegas’s area anyways), but Pete and Macau insist on putting the food out on actual plates and use actual utensils instead of eating out of the cartons with plastic and cheap bamboo like they have been. they pull the couch cushions to the floor and eat there because the flatpack table is assembled but the chairs are not, and its all very sweet and lovely. Pete loads the dishwasher and when he’s done, he notices Vegas grimacing and sweetly hustles him off to the bedroom for a handjob and rest.

two days later, after a wonderful meal courtesy of Pete’s grandma (she’s the best), the dishwasher is full enough to run. Pete puts the soap in, then pauses with a frown. i dont remember loading it like that, he thinks, before shrugging and running the thing. it’s just dishes, and he has more important things to worry about anyways.

the first obvious casualty of their collective inexperience are three of Vegas’s velvet shirts. he’s been wearing all his softest clothes, because he’s been stuck in hospital scrubs for much too long, so he’s working off a much more limited clothing pile than the rest of them. the only blessing in this scenario is that Vegas is the one to load the washing machine (well, Macau loaded it, because he didn’t want Vegas to strain himself, but they did it together) so Vegas doesn’t have anyone to yell at. he and Pete fuck out the angst of course, but the cloud of three murdered shirts still hangs over them for a week.

they figure a few things out, like how you don’t pour straight bleach on a counter stain because pure bleach bleaches the counter, there’s always another corner to dust even when you got them all, don’t forget to put the trash out the night before trash collection days. life trucks along, because life does that, then a new demon emerges.

“Vegasssssssssssssssss,” Macau wails from his bedroom doorway, “is the internet still out?”

“uhhhhhhhh,” Vegas says, looking guilty in the midst of scattered wires and a gutted cablebox. the three of them have been trying to figure out why the internet had abruptly gone down since last night and after the two of them had triple checked that everything was plugged in right this morning, Pete had disappeared to teach Chay how to punch stuff and Vegas had pulled out a screwdriver and pliers with a manic gleam in his eyes. Pete’s not even mad, though he does make a mental note to ask Porsche if replacement cableboxes are one of those free things or something they have to purchase.

“uhm,” comes a voice from the kitchen. “did you pay the internet bill?” Chay asks Pete, because he’s still ignoring Vegas while he figures out how he feels about the whole successful-and-attempted-kidnappings thing.

Pete, who’s never had a household bill before in his whole life, blinks. “is that what that mail was?”

Vegas, who knows what regular payments are thanks to growing up a mafia heir, but for whom household bills were but a distant myth, frowns. “i thought we agreed that thing was fake.”

“what the fuck is an internet bill?” asks Macau, because household bills do not exist to sixteen year olds.

“...something to look into then,” Chay squeaks out before fleeing for the front door.

Pete luckily has the sense to complain to his grandma about the situation during their next phone call. he is appalled to learn all those utility payments he paid when they first moved in are reoccurring monthly payments. grandma laughs at him for five minutes, but at least they now know to pay the electric bill on time.

the dishes thing comes to head after six weeks of Vegas making Faces every time Pete loads the dishwasher and Pete finally body slams him like WHAT

“mugs go at the back of the rack :) because they’re heavy :) it’s better balanced if they’re in the back :) :) :)”

it’s not a pretty argument. they fuck about it. the argument continues. they fuck some more about it. Pete picks up Vegas from his last physical therapy appointment the next day, except when Vegas tries to get in the passenger seat, Pete’s like “no no, heavy weight goes in the BACK we need to keep things BALANCED :) if you say ONE word of the lecture on the tip of your tongue I WILL make you walk”

and then Pete does make him walk. he doesn’t drive off, Vegas isn’t allowed out of his sight lest he do something stupid, so he follows in the car carefully to make sure Vegas doesn’t get into something stupid. it’s a level of petty bitch unseen before.

“this wouldn’t be a problem if you just loaded the dishwasher correctly :)” Vegas says when he’s finally allowed in the car.

“this wouldn’t be a problem if you weren’t a bitch :)” Pete retorts.

they fuck about it when they get home of course, because what’s the point of domestic tension if it doesn’t fuel your sex life.

Pete finally asks Porsche to visit two months into living with Vegas. fucking out their domestic problems is fun, but he’s getting a little tired of their sex life being fueled primarily by who last forgot about the chore wheel. Porsche says hello and then excuses himself to the bathroom, only to take one step into it and hastily back out with an expression of deep alarm.

Porsche opens his mouth, pauses to rethink what he’s about to say, then asks, “where do you keep your toilet cleaner Pete?”

“my what?” Pete asks. he stares at Porsche blankly for a few seconds before hesitantly pointing at the handsoap on the sink, feeling a bit like he’s been asked a trick question.

Porsche smiles kindly. it almost doesn’t look strained. “not that, the stuff you use to clean the toilet bowl.”

Pete feels the question marks cross his face. “our toilet flushes,” he explains slowly, “it cleans itself.”

Porsche takes that in, gives a small little nod, and disappears to take a piss. “right,” he says as he exits the bathroom, “do you have a pen and paper? we need to make a shopping list.”

they write up a list--excessively long in Pete’s humble opinion, but Porsche insists they need all of it, and Pete’s not stupid enough to think he knows more than him--and have lunch before they go. Pete washes the dishes by hand because he’s still a little sore (emotionally and physically) over his and Vegas’s last argument about the dishwasher. Porsche watches him with plain faced horror.

“Pete,” he says, strangled.

Pete presses a soapy hand to his forehead and sighs so loud he rattles the window.

Porsche kindly doesn’t say anything on it, he just nudges Pete to the side, hands him a towel, and walks him through it. “you only need a little bit of soap,” he explains kindly, “fill up the basin with hot water and a small dash of soap, and you’re good to go.”

Pete wrinkles his nose at the steamy soapy water. “hot water dries out my hands,” he complains.

“we’ll pick up some gloves,” Porsche reassures, “but you need the hot water. it unsticks food better and sterilizes your dishes. the soap just helps.”

Pete sighs again. he’s starting to think anything involving dishes is a mistake.

Porsche and Pete go shopping. there’s so much stuff. Pete doesn’t know what the fuck he’s expected to do with three buckets, but Porsche insists. Pete’s even more alarmed by the sheer number of different soaps apparently required for a house. you’d think they’d have invented a universal soap by now.

“oh!” Macau says brightly, “i think i saw a tiktok for that!”

“ooh,” Pete says, immediately interested.

“absolutely not,” Porsche hisses like a wet cat, then sits them all down for a lecture on the dangers of homemade mustard gas.

never fear, they do figure out how to adult with the help of Porsche and Vegas’s growing collection of momfluencers and aunties who think his cheekbones can do no wrong. it doesn’t even take them that long, but tell that to the number of Vegas’s silk and velvet shirts that were sacrificed along the way.

#kinnporsche #vegaspete #vegas x pete #vegas theerapanyakul #pete saengtham #macau theerapanyakul #the cookie and tortoise joint kinnporsche headcanon universe #i meant to write a list of headcanons but then i started writing instead #oops #does this count as fic? im gonna count it as fic #cookie's writing

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fingertipsmp3 · 2 years

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We literally can’t take my grandma ✨anywhere✨

#like i am genuinely surprised the dog rescue people want to give us a dog lol #all she did was complain and ask bizarre questions and say weird things and then laugh #and she outright admitted she didn’t actually care about the dog. i wanted to take the handler aside and be like ‘she doesn’t live with me #and will see the dog maybe once a week at most’ but i think they got that #i don’t know why she came. i legitimately have no idea. she wasn’t interested in any of it and she didn’t enjoy it #she interrupts people and she doesn’t listen and she’s SO RUDE. she HAS to interject with her opinion and it’s like ‘who asked’#nobody EVER asks but she still feels the need to tell us #and on the way back i was stressed because i had an amazon package coming and i was worried it wouldn’t be able to be delivered #because it’s alcohol so someone needs to be there for age verification #and she just could not compute the fact that i was worried about the delivery driver having to dick around. i was like.. i don’t know how to #explain to you that i care about other people & that i have empathy for someone who’s had to drive to a rural area #but anyway. despite my grandma’s behaviour i am getting a dog lol #her name is mabel and i love her #personal #oh and i forgot to mention but the alcohol was a bottle of glenfiddich for my granddad and when i told her she was like ‘what’ve you ordered #him that for??? just go to tesco and buy him the cheapest whiskey’ and i was like damn okay #like this is YOUR MAN. he’s turning eighty this week and he helps me out a lot and i love him #sorry for wanting to buy him his favourite whiskey for his birthday??#then she’s like ‘well tell him that counts for his birthday and christmas’ and i was like ‘i absolutely will not be doing that’#i’m buying him a diary for christmas. i always do. this has been established #he likes to write down the weather and things he does so he can remember; but he complains about the cost of a decent diary #because he is an old yorkshireman and thinks everything should cost approximately 20p #so i buy him diaries. this is known

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carolmunson · 2 years

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vacation diaries - entry four

eddie keeps a journal while at the inn with you in northern indiana. a blurb series starting from the first morning after ’before there was a before’.

entries: one,two,three read steve's journal: here.

warnings: minors dni, 18+, adult themes, mentions of sex

what a fuckin minx.

jesus, i forgot for a minute what a solid fuck she is. i know that sounds gross but i am fucking reeling right now. she's in the shower and i just got the life fucked out of me. holy shit. i thought i came hard last night but holy god almighty. i'm never gonna get over this.

we didn't mean to fuck. i didn't mean to let it go that far, i didn't want this trip to be about that. but when she gave me that face when we got back upstairs how could i not? she's such a little tease. she was a little tease all day. the cutest tease i ever met.

she wanted to go to the dunes even though it's snowy and out to the piers and the light house. she swears she packed a warm enough coat but i can guarantee you that she's gonna have a cold tomorrow and then i'm gonna get a cold two days later. i can't even be mad at her about it though, her little frost bitten nose? i don't think i've ever met anyone i want to marry more than her.

we brought some kodak cameras with us to take pictures of everything, went to some tourist spots since we haven't been getting around as much as we want. gas is cheap out here which is nice. we saw some more christmas lights and went back to the diner. the waitress knows my name now so now i feel like i have to come here every couple of months so i don't lose the friendship. her name's marge. she reminds me of my grandma. she has a friend that lives at the women's shelter by the record store named sara-lynn but i don't think i've met her. i'll have to ask around and send marge's regards. she thinks it's cool that i play in a band and her nephew wants to learn how to play guitar but doesn't want him to get any tattoos.

but anyway, we got home after seeing the sights (she called them 'the seven wonders of northern indiana' because she's annoying) and dropping the cameras off to get the film developed, we were sitting in the common area again and she starts tracing my tatts on my arm and she knows how i love that. she's all 'don't listen to marge, your tattoos are unique' and i would obviously never listen to marge because my tattoos are metal as fuck but she can't be tracing them on my arm like that in front of the nice old people we played checkers with two nights ago. so i ask if she's tired and she wants to go upstairs and she basically runs so fast that the lady who runs the inn had to come yell at us for being too loud.

we weren't too loud when we fooled around but if i had it my way, they would've been able to hear her in canada.

i haven't really had her solo in a long time. solo like, not playing a game or a roleplay. just me as eddie and her as her. she tried to slip into calling me daddy at first and any other day i would've went along with it, especially since steve wouldn't hear, but i just wanted it to be us tonight. i told her i wanted to give it to her nice. i don't even think either of us could breathe while we were going at it. i hadn't felt more connected to her in my life. i kept telling her how much i loved her and it kept making her cry so we had to keep stopping and starting which is fine because i kept almost busting way too quick for it to be okay.

we came at the same time and both had to shove our faces in the pillows so we wouldn't get in trouble again. can't believe we didn't break the bed.

she just got out of the shower and came out with my t-shirt on. i think she wants to go again and i'm gonna fuck her brains out. she already fucked my brains out.

sorry i didn't talk about anything legit today but i'm only a man, diary. i'm only a dumb fucking man who loves his girl.

-ed

#the steddieverse #vacation diaries

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bomberqueen17 · 1 year

Text

oops

lol yet again i missed doing my friday update schedule. in my defense, a lot's been going on. before I say anything else I should also say-- DMs on Tumblr currently do not work for me, the message thing shows me the preview but if I click on it, I absolutely cannot open the window, it will hang for literal days. I have the square blank in the corner of this tab as I am composing and no longer remember what I was trying to get it to open. So if you send me an IM on Tumblr I will only be able to read whatever of it is in the preview! So don't be offended if I never respond, because I can't write back because the window literally never opens. I got one to open yesterday but it was about 45 minutes and a lot of window reloading. I think it's safe to say that feature's just gotta be dead to me. RIP.

Anyway what's been up! my BFF from high school came thru Thursday night with her kids to stay in my cabin and i was a bit frantic getting the place ready, as it's not exactly listed on AirBnB. (She was like "oh wow this is a lot bigger and nicer than i thought" girl you were going to cram your children and yourself into a tiny half-finished shack with me? what??? jeez) and at the last minute Dude was like "oh i'm coming too" which, fortunately, I had put myself into a full-size bed on the pull-out couch so there was room for him to be there too but if this were any smaller a tiny house that would not have been possible. see, this is why i didn't actually build a tiny tiny house, it wouldn't have worked.

Anyway they left friday and i spent the day making sausage as fast as i could, and then in the afternoon dude helped me package it and then! i had! two full days! off! (ok i'm in the second of those days rn) so

saturday being My Birthday I made a snap decision that we were going to go see some art, so we drove over to the Clark Institute in Williamsburg MA (like a long half-hour away, it's not far) and saw some of my good buddies in the permanent collection.

(Mom used to take us kids there when we were little, and there are a lot of Renoirs and John Singer Sargent and some Frederic Rembrandt and Winslow Homer and whatnot, many of which I have seen so often as to consider old friends. (This Bougereau, Mom had a poster of on her bedroom wall, and I have always loved it. Apparently, my grandpa upon seeing it-- not the letters grandpa, the other one-- exclaimed of the one whose back faces the viewer "Oh Betty, it's you!" Betty being my grandma.)

I discovered quite by accident, while fucking around on my phone, that there was a Pokestop out in the courtyard, and the Pokestop was titled something about Jenny Holtzer, and i was like wait what and sure enough. There's a set of four white granite benches out there with Jenny Holtzer engravings on them.

This one is fucking brutal, as her shit tends to be:

[image description: a white granite bench engraved with the following text, somewhat darkened by pooled rainwater: "BY YOUR REPONSE TO DANGER IT IS EASY TO TELL HOW YOU HAVE LIVED AND WHAT HAS BEEN DONE TO YOU YOU SHOW WHETHER YOU WANT TO STAY ALIVE, WHETHER YOU THINK YOU DESERVE TO, AND WHETHER YOU BELIEVE IT'S ANY GOOD TO ACT."]

There was also a temporary exhibition of paintings and woodcuts/lithographs/prints by Norwegian artist Edvard Munch, yes including a lithograph of That Painting. Fairly stunning! Running thru October, I recommend it if you're in the area!

ok idk what else has been happening. i am so tired. i might play some pokey mans today but i also might just. not. really. do much of anything. which is boring and dumb and won't make me feel better next week when i have to go back and do more work and have achieved none of my personal goals. but sometimes brain no worky, and that's that.

#about the author

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spellbook-gayboy · 2 years

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Drabble 39

39.

"Mean what?" Rex asked.

"What you said earlier." Mark reminded him, briefly pausing to punch a ninja square in the face. "Something about us moving in together?"

Rex snapped a sword, before ducking and driving his elbow into another's face. "Oh yeah, that! Well, you're in your final year of college and I've been gathering all this money, so... you know, thought I'd look!"

"Alright! What did you find so far?"

Rex slipped under a sai, wincing as it narrowly missed his cheek. He wrapped his arms around the ninja's waist and pulled hard, sending them crashing to the floor in a suplex manoeuvre. "Well, there's only about five of them we can afford in the entire state. First one's rent is pretty low for the area, but the landlord is an asshole!"

"Not worth it. If he's anything like my old boss at Burger-Mart, I'm not living there!" Mark replied, not missing a beat as he tossed a desk into a group of goons. "Or my Business Studies professor, actually, cause I'm still not over that!"

Rex would've chuckled at that, if he wasn't already busy trying not to get stabbed. "Uh huh. Two are inner-city, so rent's not that bad, but they’re pretty small and barebones. Oh, and- Jesus!- and there's two on the outskirts of the city that look pretty nice, but the rent is just way too high for my standards!”

“Barebones is fine. The money left over from my dad’s book sales should cover the cost of furniture and stuff, so that leaves the deposit and rent over. You can cover the first month, right?”

Rex chuckled. “Try the first year and then some!”

“Oh-hoh, really? And how much money did you save up, exactly?” Mark asked in an intrigued manner, not even noticing as a thug broke their hand trying to punch him.

“A fair few hundred, but there��s a lot more on the way. Trust me!” Rex reassured him.

“Alright. Well, either way, you still gotta meet my halmani!”

“Okay, my Korean is still a little basic, I’ll admit,” Rex confessed, “but... I’m sorry, did you mention your grandma? What’s up with that?”

Mark grinned. “Oh, I wouldn’t worry too much! From what Mom’s told her about you already, Nana Hei-Ran’s gonna love you when she flies over from Busan! Well, mostly at least. That reminds me, do you have a problem with K-dramas?”

“I... don’t think so?”

“Good, cause K-dramas are like one of the unavoidable things you have to deal with when you join my family, so... yeah, good start!”

#granny about to inspect the future son-in-law #gonna see if hes worthy of her grandson #invincible #invincible show #invincible amazon #mark grayson #rex sloan #rex splode #markrex #my asks #summerfrwrks #writing prompt friday

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aishangotome · 12 days

Text

Main Story Chapter 18-07: Among All of Nature (在萬物之中) | Light and Night 光與夜之戀

Chapter 18-05

♡———♡

Although I've temporarily moved to my grandma's house, the commute is too long and it's not a sustainable solution.

Using my spare time these past few days, I've looked at a few more apartments, but none of them were suitable. I had to expand my search area and increase my budget.

Luckily, I had good luck today. A small rental house just became available in an alley near my company. Because I'm used to living in a small shop, I really like spacious one-story houses.

With more space, I can store some design materials at home, set up a large table, and create a work area, just like Sariel's studio.

The person showing me the house was an elderly lady with gray hair, who was also the landlord. She owns several properties in this area. She's mentally sharp but has some trouble with her legs. She was a bit unsteady when crossing the threshold.

You: Grandma, let me help you across.

Landlord Granny: Oh, thank you, young lady. When you get old, everything starts to ache.

You: I should be thanking you for showing me the house yourself.

Landlord Granny: I don't like using agents. They don't know the good and bad about this place like I do. I've lived here for decades.

Landlord Granny: I can tell you exactly what time the vendors set up outside, which families have dogs, and whether they bark or not.

I nodded with a smile and looked around, noticing that the colors used, from the sofa cushions to the tablecloth and lamps, were quite bold and vibrant.

You: The decoration is so interesting!

Landlord Granny: You young people should like it. A young girl lived here before, and she did it up.

Landlord Granny: I even introduced her to her boyfriend, who lived in another one of my houses.

Landlord Granny: After they got married, they bought a house and moved out together. Before they left, they even came back here to take a photo together.

The granny took out her old phone and scrolled for a while before showing me a photo. It showed a young couple standing at the entrance of the alley with their luggage, both smiling brightly.

But my eyes were involuntarily drawn to a figure in the background. The figure was far away and small, hunched over, wearing an old-fashioned hat, with only a bit of their side profile visible.

They looked like an elderly person. I stared at them, and a strange intuition came over me.

You: No way...

Landlord Granny: Why not? They even gave me a box of wedding candies for being their matchmaker.

You: No, no. Grandma, do you know this person? Do they also live nearby?

I zoomed in on the photo and pointed to the man in the baseball cap, who was almost blending into the gray-blue wall. The old lady squinted and looked for a long time.

Landlord Granny: Oh, that hat... Isn't that Xiao Chen?

Landlord Granny: He's also one of my tenants. He lives in the attic upstairs. He's a tall and handsome young man.

Landlord Granny: It's just that he doesn't dress very neatly, always wearing hats, sunglasses, and masks.

If the hat, sunglasses, and mask were all used for disguise... My heart pounded. I wasn't mistaken. This person must be Charlie!

I've always understood that frequent contact would put him in danger, so I deliberately didn't ask for his address. But that doesn't mean I don't want to know how he's doing.

I clenched my palms and continued to chat casually with the landlord granny.

You: Grandma, can you tell me more about this Xiao Chen?

In the old and cozy house, I sat upright at the carved wooden table. The landlord granny placed a bowl of mung bean soup in front of me.

Landlord Granny: Freshly made, young lady, have some.

You: Mmm, okay...

I took a couple of reluctant sips, not because it wasn't delicious, but because the granny was sitting opposite me, looking at me with a cheerful and gossipy expression.

Landlord Granny: Go on, there's nothing to be embarrassed about. It's perfectly normal to like a handsome young man.

Landlord Granny: Feel free to ask anything you want to know.

It seemed she had misunderstood my intentions from the beginning. But since she said I could ask anything, there was no need for me to correct her.

You: Okay... well, when did Xiao Chen move in?

Landlord Granny: He hasn't been here long, less than two months, but many people around here know him.

You: Why is that?

The granny pointed out the window. Not far away, there was a small cart parked with a wooden board leaning against it. On the board, the words "Fresh Wontons" were scrawled in chalk.

Landlord Granny: Xiao Chen was poor when he first arrived. He couldn't find a job for a while and couldn't even afford the rent.

Landlord Granny: At that time, Old Liu, who sells wontons, injured his arm and couldn't run his stall. So he asked Xiao Chen.

Landlord Granny: He asked if Xiao Chen could help out, two hours in the morning and two hours in the evening, with pay and meals included.

Landlord Granny: The morning shift starts at five, and the evening shift goes until midnight. It's quite hard work, but surprisingly, Xiao Chen agreed.

Landlord Granny: He said he loves wontons and wants to open a wonton stall with someone he likes in the future. He considered this as practice beforehand.

I had just taken a sip of mung bean soup when I heard the words "practice beforehand." I choked and coughed several times. The granny quickly handed me some tissues.

Landlord Granny: Isn't he an interesting young man? He got to know everyone quickly.

I nodded. Charlie being poor was probably because he couldn't go to the bank to withdraw money when he was wanted.

I had imagined his initial days were very difficult, and now that thought was confirmed. But even so, he still bought me flowers. I lowered my eyes, feeling both touched and a bit sad.

Landlord Granny: But later he found a job and seems to be earning a decent amount. He's capable, don't worry.

Landlord Granny: I don't really know what his job is.

Landlord Granny: He's always fiddling with his computer in his room, wearing headphones. I guess he's in the IT industry.

I took a deep breath and nodded in agreement. If I wasn't mistaken, this was Charlie's surveillance plan.

You: Yeah, probably.

Landlord Granny: Come to think of it, no wonder he's so well-informed. He seems to have seen everything online.

That seemed like a stereotype about the IT industry... But Charlie did seem like he knew everything. I couldn't help but smile, feeling a bit curious.

You: What kind of things has he seen?

Landlord Granny: My leg has always had arthritis. I usually listen to health programs on the radio and buy some of the medicines they recommend.

Landlord Granny: Xiao Chen advised me, saying those things are expensive and their ingredients have no medicinal value.

Landlord Granny: I didn't quite believe him at first. I said, Xiao Chen, you're not a doctor, how can you tell?

You: Did you say that...

Landlord Granny: What did you say, dear? I didn't hear you clearly.

"Not a doctor." It was just a casual remark, but it stung a bit when I heard it. It was like being transported back to the night when Sun Taizhong was injured. If Charlie heard it, how would he feel?

You: It's nothing. Please continue. Did you believe him later?

Landlord Granny: I did. He sent me several... what do you call them... expert articles from public accounts.

Landlord Granny: They explained all the ingredients mentioned on the radio and even exposed the false claims about those medicines advertised on the radio.

You: Grandma, do you know the name of the public account? I'd like to take a look too.

The granny took out her phone, placed it on the table, and opened a chat window.

The profile picture in the chat window was a shadow stretched out on the road, surrounded by lush plane trees. It looked a bit like the small road I used to take on my way home from work.

Landlord Granny: I don't know the name, but it's this article. Take a look.

I leaned over to look, and the first thing I saw was a very eye-catching title: "Xianggu Essence Capsules are Fake! Protect Your Wallet!" Below it was the author's name: "Famous Doctor Charlie."

You: Famous Doctor Charlie...

I couldn't help but smile, as if I could see Charlie's smug expression when he typed that name.

I had already guessed it. How could there be such a coincidence that he just happened to have read an article debunking some unknown health product advertised on the radio? It was obviously written by him.

Landlord Granny: So, what do you think of Xiao Chen? Are you satisfied?

You: Uh, satisfied or not...

The sudden question was a bit like picking out pork at the market, but it showed that the granny had a very good impression of Charlie. Under her eager gaze, I nodded.

Landlord Granny: But dear, Xiao Chen is good in every way, except for one thing. You need to consider it carefully.

Seeing me agree, the granny's tone changed, becoming serious.

Landlord Granny: His health seems to be a bit problematic recently. I don't know how he'll be in the future.

You: Really?! What's wrong with him?

Startled, my voice rose a few pitches.

Landlord Granny: It seems like headaches. Once, when I was going out, I saw him, a grown man, squatting in the stairwell.

Landlord Granny: His face was pale, as if he was unconscious.

Landlord Granny: I called out to him several times, and he just asked me if I could pick up his phone from the ground and make a call.

Landlord Granny: I said I'd call 120 for him, but he said no, not 120, and then said forget it, no need to call.

Landlord Granny: It took a long time before he stood up and left. I don't think it's a minor illness.

I froze, feeling a chill all over. When did his headaches become so severe? If left untreated, could there be serious consequences? The thought made my nose tingle with worry.

Landlord Granny: When the time comes, you should ask him about it properly...

The landlord granny was still giving me instructions, but I couldn't respond. Thankfully, a knock on the door interrupted her. She answered and went to open the door.

???: I'm here to pay the rent.

Landlord Granny: Oh, isn't it Xiao Chen?

Xiao Chen - those two words made my ears buzz.

In disbelief, I slowly turned my head. The door opened a crack, and warm sunlight spilled in, outlining a familiar silhouette.

Wearing a low-brimmed hat, sunglasses, and a mask, his expression was hidden, but I could feel that he, too, had frozen in place at that moment.

Landlord Granny: Come in, Xiao Chen, have a seat and some mung bean soup.

Charlie seemed to realize that his hand was still on the doorknob. He gently closed the door and walked in. The wooden stool creaked as he pulled it out, and he sat down beside me.

Landlord Granny: Xiao Chen, do you have a girlfriend?

The granny went to the kitchen to get more mung bean soup. Her voice came through the wall. Charlie Su glanced at me, and somehow, I felt he must be smiling.

Charlie: Are you asking because you want to introduce me to someone?

Landlord Granny: You got it!

The granny placed the bowl on the table. It was from the same set as mine, decorated with dragons and phoenixes, very festive.

Landlord Granny: Xiao Chen, this young lady saw your photo and fell in love at first sight. She came specifically to inquire about you.

You: No, that's not---

Landlord Granny: It's okay, young lady. If you're embarrassed, just pretend this old lady is talking nonsense.

Charlie turned his face towards me. This time, his gaze was intent. Sitting closer, I could almost see through his sunglasses, even the purple in his eyes was blurry, but the overflowing longing and joy were exceptionally clear.

I couldn't help but stare back at him, and we remained like that for who knows how long. The granny reached out and waved her hand in front of us.

Landlord Granny: Xiao Chen, don't stare at the young lady like that, you'll scare her away.

Charlie didn't look away. His voice was sincere and gentle.

Charlie: I think I've also fallen in love with her at first sight.

Earlier, when the landlord granny teased us, I didn't react much. But now, my face instantly turned red, as if we were truly meeting for the first time.

Charlie: What should we do, miss? I want to take you out on a date right away.

Landlord Granny: A date, that's wonderful!

The granny was beaming, unable to contain her smile. She pulled out a few boxes from a cloth bag at her feet.

Landlord Granny: It's just perfect that you're here, Xiao Chen. Take these with you.

Landlord Granny: I listened to your advice and went to the hospital to check my joints. They prescribed some painkillers for me.

Landlord Granny: The doctor said this medicine hasn't been released yet, and only their hospital can prescribe it. It's very effective and can also be used for headaches.

Charlie: Oh? Where was it prescribed?

Landlord Granny: The First People's Hospital.

The box landed on the table. Charlie's gaze darkened. I saw it too. The label on the medicine box clearly read "DEA."

However, only for a moment. Charlie's expression quickly returned to normal. He picked up the medicine box and casually put it in his pocket.

Charlie: I think I've heard that this medicine has some side effects.

Landlord Granny: Really? My husband and several of my friends are taking it. The doctor said it's fine.

Landlord Granny: I'm not sure. I'll go back and look for that public account article later.

Charlie: Don't take it for the next few days.

Leaving the granny's house, Charlie and I walked side-by-side down the alley. The entire alley was bathed in the orange-red glow of the sunset. I couldn't help but keep glancing at him.

Charlie: Fiancée, what do you think I should say or do now?

Charlie had already taken off his sunglasses and hung them on his lapel, but he still wore his mask.

You: What did you plan to do when we met again?

Charlie: Just like I said on the phone, I wanted to admire the airship with our names on it together with you.

He looked at the horizon, his voice trembling slightly. But I knew it wasn't a bad kind of trembling.

Because my voice was the same. It meant that our long-awaited hearts had finally found satisfaction.

The granny's words echoed in my mind, along with DEA and his illness. But I didn't have time to ask him about all of that.

I walked around in front of Charlie and reached out to gently remove his mask from his ears.

He had lost some weight, his face was pale, and his features were more defined. I opened my mouth.

You: I finally get to see you again.

Almost at the same time, Charlie leaned down and hugged me tightly.

Charlie: Me too, fiancée, me too.

For a long time afterward, we didn't say anything. We just held each other, feeling each other's breath and the rise and fall of our chests.

We were already very close, but the arms around my back tightened even more, almost painfully so.

You: Charlie, I can't breathe...

Charlie loosened his grip a bit, but not much. His warm breath lingered by my ear.

Charlie: My saint. You're suddenly so close to me, it's a bit overwhelming.

Charlie: Haven't you heard that people who have been hungry for too long can't eat too much at once?

I couldn't help but laugh.

You: Such a simple analogy, is that something Young Master Charlie would say?

Charlie: Why would I need to sweet-talk my fiancée?

He said it matter-of-factly, but to me, it sounded sweeter than any sweet nothings. My eyes stung, and I couldn't help but lightly punch his back.

Charlie: Why are you hitting me?

You: I won't tell you.

Charlie: I know even if you don't tell me. It's my fiancée's overflowing love for me.

I wanted to hit him again, but my face felt hot, and I couldn't bring my raised hand down.

We separated a little. We had hugged many times before, but thinking back to that moment just now still made me feel a bit embarrassed. Charlie probably felt the same way, staring straight ahead seriously.

Charlie: How did you find this place?

Charlie: When I saw you, I wondered if I had stepped into a rabbit hole.

I told him the whole story of how I was looking for a house, saw the photo, and recognized his figure in the background. Charlie raised his eyebrows.

Charlie: I know that photo.

Charlie: Back then, when my father discovered my whereabouts, he sent a few people to find me. They saw it too, but they didn't recognize me.

You: What?! Your father sent people to find you?!

Charlie: Don't worry, I didn't leave them anything except a few empty water bottles.

Charlie: And after they left, this place became the safest place.

I was slightly relieved, but there was still one question.

You: How did they even think of looking at that photo?

Charlie: It seems the landlord mentioned to them that a newlywed couple had moved out.

Charlie: I don't know what kind of information my father gave them, but they were incredibly sensitive to the word "marriage."

Charlie: They thought one of the newlyweds was me.

Charlie looked at me with a playful smile, and I quickly understood why they were so sensitive to the word "marriage." It was because Charlie kept calling me his "fiancée."

Seeing my knowing expression, Charlie let out a long sigh.

Charlie: I thought my disguise was flawless.

Charlie: I never expected that you would recognize me from such a small shadow.

You: Should I pretend that I didn't recognize you, that it was just a coincidence, and let Young Master Charlie be happy about his disguise skills?

Charlie: There's no need.

Charlie lowered his eyes, his curved eyelashes casting a shadow on his face. His thin lips parted, and he said:

Charlie: I'm even happier that you recognized me. I'm going crazy with joy.

Whoa, whoa. An alarm bell was going off in my head. Was it because I hadn't seen him for so long? Why was my heart pounding irregularly? I quickly turned my face away.

You: Okay, Xiao Chen, stop teasing. Didn't you say you were taking me on a date?

Charlie paused for a moment, a flicker of hesitation and sadness crossing his face.

Charlie: Fiancée, actually...

You: We can go anywhere for our date.

I finished his sentence. I had already sensed that after the initial joy faded, something else was weighing on his mind. But whatever it was, I was willing to help.

Charlie stared at me for a while, the corners of his mouth lifting slightly.

Charlie: I have an appointment this afternoon with an organization called the Drug Safety Assurance Association.

Charlie: I'm going to talk to them about the side effects of DEA.

You: Great, let's go together.

As soon as I said that, we looked at each other. We had fought side-by-side too many times; there was no need for further explanation or persuasion.

Charlie sighed dramatically and shook his head in mock helplessness.

Charlie: I was relatively inconspicuous on my own, but with such a dazzling fiancée by my side, I'm afraid we'll be discovered immediately.

I knew it was a playful joke, but it did remind me that going together would increase the risk of exposure. I hadn't considered that carefully enough.

Charlie noticed my silence, and his expression turned serious.

Charlie: It seems I made a tasteless joke.

You: No, it's not that. I was just thinking that two people together would indeed...

Charlie took off his sunglasses from his lapel and put them on me. Then he took out a mask from his pocket, opened the package, and put it on me.

Charlie: There's no "indeed." Isn't this better?

I glanced at the mask from the corner of my eye and saw a small bird printed on the lower right corner. Charlie's mask had the same bird printed on the upper left corner.

You: Why are they couple masks again?

Charlie: That's because I've always wanted to play the role of a Bonnie and Clyde duo with my fiancée.

He looked happy. I thought back to his "tasteless" joke earlier. Although it was a joke, I could vaguely sense his inner hesitation.

Just like how he had such severe headaches but never mentioned them to me. Was it because he was worried about me, or was he afraid of making me worry? I tugged on his sleeve.

You: From now on, if you have a headache, call me. Don't hesitate.

It was an abrupt statement, but after a moment of stunned silence, Charlie nodded solemnly.

Charlie: Okay.

I strode forward, pulling his trench coat sleeve long.

You: Let's go! How are we getting there?

Charlie: Let's borrow the steed of Spyders II.

Chapter 18-09

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#light and night #light and night translations #evan #sariel #osborn #jesse #charlie #light and night chapter 18 translation #light and night main story translation #lu chen #xiao yi #qi si li #xia ming xing #zha li su

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