Pero Tovar x Witch!Reader - An Impractical Time AU
Holidaytimes 2021 Masterlist
Warnings: Fluff, Food, Mentions of canonical violence (non-descript), Established relationship
Wordcount: 1.1k+
Notes: Happy Christmas in July! I’m hoping this will break my writers block so I can move on to some fics that need to be written. So I hope you enjoy another one-shot from a family duo I hold very dear to my heart.
Day 19 - Movie Nights || Laughter, snacks, and cuddles.
“But-! Look how cute they are!”
“Mi alma, where are we going?” Pero shuffled his feet to the fireplace, peering in at the fire that roared inside. He was still uncertain of this form of travel, instead preferring the horseless carriages or even the blasted broom he accidentally used to sweep the porch and instead took off like one of the black powder mixtures that exploded in the air and rained fire in the sky. It had taken him every muscle in his body to hold on to the enchanted wood and your own ill restrained composure to get both his feet back on the ground where you promptly dissolved into a fit of giggles and he let out a string of curses lamenting the loss of his favorite pants.
He knew the flames that danced around wouldn’t burn him, but he still did not trust them. “We are going to show! A traveling troop of storytellers is in the village and I’d like to see them. We haven’t had a proper date night in ages.” You beamed at him and he simply couldn’t deny you. Nodding, he held out his hand for the traveling powder and stepped carefully into the hearth.
When he emerged from the green flames, he quickly stepped aside, holding his hand out for yours just in time, catching your slight wobble and planting a kiss on your cheek. Tugging him along, you called out into the sparse crowd, spotting a familiar figure he’d grown fond of.
“Pero! Good to see you!” Saul Croker stood, smile pleasant and a slew of questions waiting to burst forth from his tongue only to be quieted by the woman standing at his side, his wife. “How lovely to see you both here! We’re in for an exciting night, eh?” Nodding, you broke into idle chit-chat and maneuvered to the small outdoor theater lined with food vendors and benched seating.
Hands filled his favorite treats, you urged Pero to take a seat as music plucked through the air and the firelights dimmed. On stage stood a rather long and ornate wall about shoulder high with an opaque screen that slowly lit from behind and a shadowed figure appeared, its limbs operated by sticks. Bits of light shone through against the sheet, filling the figure with beautiful and ornate details.
A disembodied voice filled the air, almost traveling alongside the adventurous melody.
Beside you, Pero hummed, the tug of amusement appearing in his eyes. “Shadow puppets?” Nodding, you confirmed. He had been growing accustomed to the entertainment of televisions and the occasional movie, but it was comforting to see the art of his time still happening today. Threading his fingers with yours, you were sure a look of longing filled his gaze.
Almost as if by cue, a loud cymbal filled the air as the voice began to present the great war of centuries ago. Familiar figures of the tao-tei scurried across the screen, shooting beams of green light and roaring into the air as a giant stone wall unfurled, filling the space and drawing an audible gasp from the crowd. Silhouetted swords clashed with alien beasts and fire sailed through the air as figures familiar to Pero emerged in elegant choreography. His breath hitched slightly at two figures different from the rest, Will and what he assumed was himself. Both arriving to a hostile welcome at the wall but with a weapon that would help the great army.
He grumbled at the sight of wild hair and tattered cloaks. A tut of disgust leaving his lips and his familiar scowl deepening. “I bet you were much more handsome in real life.” You whispered, squeezing his fingers.
“No, this is accurate. The smell of me was unbearable even to myself… and my horse,” he chuckled. Grateful that he had brought along his horse who now lived retired in the stables of the enchanted school. He now smelled of apples and kitchen scrapes the elves insisted on feeding him to keep him from nibbling on their long pointed ears.
“But-! Look how cute they are!” You exclaimed, as the little figures bobbed to and fro.
“Shhh, pay attention, my love.”
Dramatic music played as the men fought valiantly alongside the wall’s protectors, earning their trust only to be deceived by a calculating foreigner who had managed to ensnare one of the visitors into his devious plans. The crowd, especially Saul, booed at his lithe figure which coaxed a now cleaned and manicured figure meant to represent the man by your side but were quickly replaced with cheers when the ne’er-do-well met his untimely end.
The story continued as the scenes changed. The sky filled with hot air balloons and the remaining forces moving past the wall to the king’s palace where the tao-tei were ultimately defeated. Cheers erupted as the figures of Will and Commander Lin embraced as the last of the creatures topped over dead and the screen went dark.
When the torches reignited, the storytellers appeared on stage bowing and thanking the crowd, earning a particularly hearty clap from Saul and Pero. Once you’d said your goodbyes, Pero’s hand once again found yours, holding tight as his side pressed into yours as you strolled through the quiet village.
“I’m glad you enjoyed it.”
“I did! Even if it did not portray everything accurately.”
His part in history was a stain on his own person that at times reemerged in the most quiet of moments. Had he not stolen the black powder and not gotten caught, would he be a hero of the wall as well? But if he had not done these things, he would not have found himself in the forest at the moment you stumbled out of thin air.
“Pero-”
“But it is alright. I am a man who has made his choices and I do not regret a single one.” He stopped you in your tracks, arm wrapping over your form to draw you in closer. The lamplights cast warm shadows over his features, over the scar you traced with the tips of your fingers and peppered with kisses to the lips that pulled moans and hums from your own.
“You are a good man, my Pero. If you don’t believe me, we can summon Saul who would only regale you with tales of your heroics and then visit the portraits-” His mouth pressed to yours, cutting your words short and slotting against them perfectly as a gruff hand trailed down your back and latched on to your rear, earning a hum of surprise still muffled by his lips.
“Mi Alma, I said I do not regret my decisions.” The words were whispered against your lips, each punctuated with a press of his lips. “They only led me to you and that alone was worth the journey.” His lips pressed to yours once more as you melted into his embrace.
Warnings: Sexual themes, family truma, sexist themes, mentions of murder.
Summary: It started off no different than any other traveler looking for boarding. But as time passed bonds grew, then as secrets were revealed, it become apparent the bonds fate built might not hold.
Summary: Upon returning to your childhood village, you barter with your riding companion and fellow sellsword Pero Tovar for a substantial favor. Pero must pose as your Alpha counterpart.
Warnings: A/B/O AU, Alpha/Omega dynamics, Fake dating, Fake relationship, Gendered pronouns, Explicit smut, Angst, Yearning, Pining, Mild-Dubious Consent but it’s consent, Mentions of violence/death, Mentions of Sex Work
Wordcount: 7.9k
Notes: This has been sitting around in my WIP files for quite a while but I finally got a bit of inspiration and switched it up a bit. I’m pretty happy with it and I hope you enjoy a little more alpha!Pero!
*** When reblogging or talking about Omegaverse, please remember that ‘a/b/o’ without the slash punctuation marks (/) is considered a slur for the Aboriginal people in Australia.
“So, if I do this for you, this is mine?”
He held the molded metal in his hand, testing the weight of it in his palm. He had watched you wheel it with ease and dexterity. Watched as the blade glowed in the light, soon the shine dulling with the lives taken of the men who stepped in your way, underestimating your abilities. Now you were willing to part with it for an enormous favor.
You had carefully cleaned and sharpened the dagger as well as its sheath before approaching Tovar with your proposition hoping he wouldn’t question you further. He’d grown mildly alarmed at your scent, worried and hesitant but muted under the scarves you wrapped around your glands and the suppressing herbs you wore around your neck. You had thought to ask William, but your own tongue betrayed you and you found yourself shoving the dagger at the scowling mercenary and stumbling over your words to scream out your request.
Your skin flashed hot, you averted your gaze. You’d admired the alpha who stood before you, smelling and scraggly haired. When he bathed and cleaned, he was handsome and stunning. Where he was gruff with most, he was a bit softer at the edges, keeping near and making you feel safe. He was a true warrior, smelling of rage and arousal when you fought side by side on the battlefield. When it was all over, you’d retreat to your own bedroll, inn room, or the nearest stream to wash the grime off you as you thought of him. Circling your fingers quickly and well practiced, picturing him taking you gruffly and exactly as he needed as you came, whispering his name.
When William had accepted this latest job, he plotted a route that took you through a village you had long been avoiding, having vowed to not return unless heaven and earth moved it into your path. And it looked as though the stars had aligned and the earth had shifted from right under your feet.
You had protested and voiced a suggestion or two, but all of them added more than a day to your journey and this village was far enough away from the main road to not appeal to many travelers and bandits, but big enough where your group should be able to go undisturbed and rest for the night.
The sounds of hooves and the alpha’s huffs filled your ears. It was early morning and your group of swords for hire were a few miles away from a good night's rest and the cause of your discomfort, the next stop on your latest journey. However you were sulking in your saddle next to Tovar, worrying your lip.
“I’ll do it.” Before he could meet your eyes, you murmured a thank you, your scent still displeased but the edge of it easing just a bit, and kicked your horse into a trot, pulling to the lead, ahead of him and William.
“Seems rather put out, no?” William fell into step and mused at Tovar as they watched you sulk in your saddle, now angrily chewing on a piece of fruit and spitting out the pits. Tovar grunted an affirmative as he watched your lips pressed together to, spitting the seeds out with agility. Your tongue darted out to catch errant drops of juice which he followed with his dark eyes before averted his gaze. Shaking his head, he gruffed again and shrugged, “Omegas.” With that he was done listening to William wonder what was wrong and he quickly changed the subject.
As the village drew nearer, you fell further behind the group. Your horse pulled into a slow trot as you chewed your lip wondering how on earth you found yourself back here. You had left at such a young age, and now a lifetime later you were no longer the same person. Where you had grown into an adult with your own mind and intentions, the further you moved up the road the more the intentions seemed foolish and silly. Your mind which was yours to think and feel as you pleased, slowly shied back to when you were a child, hiding in your mothers skirts. The further you traveled down this road, the more time seemed to have stood still and the smaller you felt.
Your heart hammered in your chest as you passed the low mossy stone wall boarding the village and the only inn. Before you could set both feet on the ground, the tavern owner stepped out of the front doors, hands on her hips, a stern look in her eye.
“You know better than t’stop here.” The omega cast her gaze on you as William opened his mouth to speak. “Ma’am, I assure you we are but weary from our travels and seek beds and dinner for the night, we will-”
Her eyes shifted to him, cutting his words cold, the power and authority in her scent causing the words to die on even the strongest alpha’s tongue. Even Tovar thought better than to try to appeal to this woman. She nodded at you, “You know I’ll never hear the end of it, go on.”
“Please, just let us rest and bathe,” You looked at her with pleading eyes. Your voice small and trembling, drawing the concerned eye of Tovar and William. You scolded yourself as you ran your sweating palms down your trousers, stepping closer to appeal to the woman. You remembered her face from long ago, now much the same but very much changed. Her eyes cool and bright, behind heavy lids and a stern brow. Her lips pulled tight, yet started to curl at the edges.
“I can’t let them see me like this.”
Smiling, she gently cupped your face, her pink slipping slightly under the cloth around your neck, soothing the edge of your omega. Her palm was warm and she smelled of fresh bread and herbs, her own omega again taking over and pulling you in. “Go, as you are. Take the lot with ya.”
Tovar suppressed a growl, surprising himself at the bit of jealousy that bubbled up inside his chest. He wasn’t your alpha and it was not his place to want to calm you or claim you as his, but the past two years had been a practice in self control.
He’d grown accustomed to setting up his bedroll near yours, knowing you could cut down a man faster than most of the mercenaries you traveled with. He always made sure you were properly fed and left alone to bathe. Perhaps he had taken a whore or two that resembled you, buried himself deep trying to replace their curves with yours, having stolen one of your scarves to smell you when he came, grunting and spilling on someone else's skin. Now, he wanted to be the one calming you down.
Defeated at her tender yet final words, you turned back to William, Tovar, and the rest, motioning for them to get back on their horses. A resounding groan chorused from the brood.
The men stared at you, mouths agape at the interaction. You had been riding with them for well over two years. They had heard your quick tongue and witnessed your even quicker blade cut down men and well deserving women alike, but never had they laid eyes on you like this.
Your shoulders sagged in defeat as you trudged back to your horse, a small pout on your lips. Almost childlike in demeanor, which thoroughly confused the men.
“Señora, where are we to go?” Tovar’s words hissed through the air, giving the woman pause. She looked up at him with the look only a mother would spare a child whittling away at the last holds of her patience. “She’ll show you. Once you’ve made yourselves known, feel free to come back for a warm bath an’bed.”
Your body grew warm and uncomfortable with embarrassment. Within seconds of stepping back into this village you had been reduced to being spoken to and commanded like a child. The last decades of your life completely erased and disregarded by her warmth and rejection. Sighing you mumble for the men to follow you though the main thoroughfare and down to a small cottage.
Tovar’s horse came to a steady trot alongside yours, he held a smirk of sorts on his face. He wasn’t entirely sure how to communicate with you, your usual words were mostly heated banter, quips, and teasing. He grunted your name, pulling you from your thoughts. “So this is it. Ahora?”
You turned to him with a pained look in your eyes, his scowl softened at the sight as he patiently waited for your response. “I-. “
A booming voice cut your words off as a stocky man draped in a leather apron called from an open stable. He barked your name, tears pooled in his eyes as he set down his hammer and held his arms wide.
You slowed your horse, stopping outside the cottage and stable, looking at the man. The man smelled familiar, the entire village did. It smelled of warmth and calm, it smelled of you. This where you had been born, this is where you ran and laughed, played and grew. This village was you.
“Father.” The man pulled you into his arms, his frame practically swallowing you whole in only a way a familiar could. Your own kin. “You’ve returned… with friends?” He looked up from your embrace, eyeing the men who smelled of earth and muck. A few alphas but mostly betas. His nose screwed up slightly, his form bristling at the edges at the thought of you carrying on with this sort until he finally laid his eyes on Pero, who stood next to William.
Just then the cottage door burst open, sending the few chickens that sought the shade of the thatched building scattering, clucks of shock and inconvenience filled the air and battled the shriek of happiness from a woman who bound out, throwing herself into your arms and straining to kiss your head.
“Mother.” She practically crushed you in only a way a mother could, holding you tight as she kissed your cheeks. Within seconds she pulled at your clothes, checking you for any injuries as well as any bonding marks.
“You have returned to us! Intact as it would seem and without alpha?” She cut to the quick of it, brows raised in question as she pulled at the scarves around your neck. Grabbing her wrist, you halted her movements. “Mother… I,” you cleared your throat, releasing her wrist which you had held gingerly, making sure to never harm her. “I- I am here with my alpha. We travel together.” You turned slightly, nodding towards the pair who stood watching your family reunion.
Taking them both in, your mother rushed forward with her arms outstretched and wrapped them around William, who stood confused and wide eyed. He cast his blue eyes on his gruff companion who offered nothing more than a curt shrug. Averting his eyes, Pero looked everywhere but at your mother who now held William’s face in her hands. “I’m sure with a good scrub and a shave we can see your hand-”
“Mother! No, uh, no. Th-The other one. Tovar.” You gestured at the dark haired man, who finally looked towards you, a scowl on his face that you matched before your mother reluctantly let go of William. Schooling your features, you joined them and gestured at Pero, your… alpha. “He is my alpha, mother, father.”
They gawked at him, screwing up their noses at the stench of road and other unspeakable things on him before turning back to you. Your eyes held a silent plea for them and for Pero who reached out and took your hand into his. Your mother was the first to speak, her gaze softening once again.
“You all stink.”
Your father offered boarding for you and Pero, telling William and the remaining men to visit the inn down the road for a proper bath. “Supper will be here for anyone who would like.” A few of the men snickered, while a nice gesture they were eager for a different sort of company and as much mead as their coin could afford them.
“I shall return shortly,” William quipped, smacking Tovar on the back before climbing on to his horse and leaving you alone with your mother and father. That edge was back to your scent, now stronger with your scarves loosened by your mother. The scent of you colliding into him like a battle ram propelled by an army of men. His fingers moved by their own will, circling your wrist and gently circling your gland, calming you.
Your shoulders relaxed and you leaned towards him, your heart also fluttering at his care. While he had agreed to pose as your alpha, you had not expected to act on the request so… so intimately. Though you knew it was a ruse on his part, the agreement to help you appease your family to ease their worries and perhaps gift them with something they desired. Their omega child find a mate.
Finally, your father turned back to Pero, taking in his long hair and beard. He ran a keen eye over the scar bisecting his eye, a stark contrast to William who seemed more of a showman. The alpha before him seemed more calculating and practical, protective and by the looks of it would not be taken from this earth without a fight.
He held out his hand, offering it to Pero who reluctantly let go of yours. Thick fingers met forearms as the men shook, greeting each other properly. But where Pero pulled away, your father only gripped him tighter before pulling him in for a proper hug. “Pero, a pleasure to meet the alpha that would live up to our child’s standard.” His hands clapped Pero’s back before he pulled away. “But I must agree with my wife, you all stink.”
You swore you saw a laugh threaten to escape Pero’s stoic face, the man had not expected a warm greeting after your mother had expected William to be your alpha. Perhaps Pero was not good enough for you. “Well, they are a very selective creature. A free thinker.” Pero had admired that about you, taking a chance for this graceless life that would end with you dead in a field or old and alone. If he had any say at all, it would be neither. He would gladly give up his sword for you.
“Indeed. Please both of you bathe and rest. We will eat shortly.”
Your mother eagerly showed you to your room, which she needn’t do but insisted. She took the opportunity to ask Pero a question or twenty about his plans for the future, asking all but the most direct and intimate of questions regarding your coupling. She led you to the room that was once yours, a bit farther than the rest, affording you some privacy.
“The wash basin is right outside as well as the pump, you can pull water and heat it to your liking.” Before she left, she asked to speak with you outside the door.
“You do not smell of this alpha. Do you plan to bond with him? Where will he build you a home?” Her words were whispered in a rush, concern in her eyes.
“I do not smell of William and you had no quarrels with him.” You stood sure, ready to knock down any protest she could conjure.
“I have no quarrels with this man, in fact he looks much sturdier than the other. My concern is for this life you have chosen, and while this alpha appears more than capable of protecting you, does he want to provide and does he want to bond?”
Eyes weary, she sighed.
“Mother, I do not need protection. As for the rest of your concerns… I-.”
She held up a hand, halting your words in a way that only the women of this blasted village could. “It is not my place to question your choices, you are an adult, no longer a child hiding in my skirts. Of course I have no quarrel with this man as long as you want him.”
“As long as I want him? What does that mean.”
“Is he beholding you with secrets or threat of death?” She whispered closely.
“MOTHER!” You growled in frustration, pushing the door open to step away as quickly as possible, needing distance from her interrogation and assumptions. “This is of my own free will. If you will excuse me I must rid my body of the smells of horse shit and brothels.”
“B-Brothels?!”
With that you stepped back into the room, closing the door on your scandalized mother who quickly retreated down the hall. Throwing your pack down, you angrily ripped at your clothing, tired of the stench of travel and irritated at her words. Was it impossible for her to think that any alpha would choose you? That there needn’t be a threat of exposure or death, that maybe your spirit and will was good enough for another person.
Once the offending clothing was removed from your form, you stalked towards the tub. Now nestled near the fire where Pero had taken the liberty to place it, filling it with water. You quickly climbed in and sat before you startled, meeting a very naked Pero pressed against the other end. The size of the basin did not afford much room for movement as you had settled your legs around him.
“I-I’m sorry. But can you believe her?”
He sat eyes trained on your chest as he continued to later his skin, taking great care to keep his hands above water. “W-what? Si, I cannot believe it.” You were so full of annoyance you had simply disrobed, the soft curves of you no longer obscured. He recognized the scar along your shoulder, from a fight where you had almost been bested, but prevailed. Relieving your attacker of their most prized possession between their legs before sending him to the afterlife he deserved after the filth that had spewed from his lips when swords clashed.
Pero shivered at the thought, growing hard under the water’s surface. Cursing under his breath, he tore his eyes from the swell of your chest, trying to not commit the alluring skin to memory nor did he wonder what noises you would make as he gently plucked at your pebbled skin with the plush of his lips. How perfectly he would slot against you as-
“Pero.” You cleared your throat, watching his eyes so dark you could not tell where his irises ended as they traversed the expanse of skin you bared to him, his breath a big ragged as they finally settled on the glands of your throat. The alpha shifted, pressing his skin against yours and released a low growl that sent a shiver down your spine.
Quickly you sank in further, up to your chin, knees and thighs now in the air which did not help his current situation in the least. “Pero,” your voice hissed at him as his gaze shifted to the water between your spread legs, cursing at the suds and movement. Kicking at him, he finally met your eyes, hands giving to gravity and landing on your wet knee and the other seizing your ankle, bringing it to rest on his ankle.
“Sorry,” he cleared his throat. “Unbelievable…” thumb circling the soft skin of your knee, he notched it under the joint, rolling a calloused pad against it as your eyes fluttered shut. “Perrrrrrrrro.” Had you just purred at him as he expertly rolled his digit over the gland tucked behind your knee? The irritation gifted to you by your mother dissolving at the touch of him. The alpha you shared a bath with, smelled the delicious heady musk of him now that he had washed all the grime from his golden skin? The man pretending to be you alpha?
Eyes snapping open, you pulled your knee from his grasp. Whatever he was doing, he did not mean. He was only acting and while you would keep the charade going for your family to witness but you would not with him behind closed doors. “May I have the soap please and would you mind turning around?”
As if also snapped from the haze of your shared bath, Pero shook his head and reached for the soap once more, handing it to you with a nod and turning in his spot which offered you an unobstructed view of his broad and sinewy back.
“Would you help me with my hair?” He asked, before asking you about the words spoken with your mother. You scrubbed angrily at your skin, leaving a hot prickling burn behind that should hurt but was satisfactory in this case. Feeling as clean as possible even at the sake of your skin’s condition.
Shifting behind him, you tugged at his hair, using the knife you had bartered for his help to pluck at the tangled locks as he listened. “We need to be more convincing, guerrera. It is obvious that you are a capable and desirable omega. We will make sure there is no room for question to our pairing, eh?”
You froze. Knife pressed to his neck, cleaning up the hair and neatening the edges. “You find me desirable?” He felt your breath hitch, your bare chest pressed to his back, the comfortable warmth that settled between you, as if he fit perfectly against your form. He rumbled, nodding his head as he struggled to not picture the parts of you that he had mapped. Struggled to not think of how you moved alongside him in a perfect dance on the battlefield, never letting your designation rule your life or weaken your capabilities.
He had known many omegas who would use it to their advantage to navigate the world or let the designation hold them hostage and fall to the whims of others around them, but you were unapologetically you and he had found himself admiring this about you.
“I am not blind, hermosa. Even with those fragranced scarves and the herbs you wear. You are a warrior woman, and now… with your skin cleaned and your tits pressed to my back…”
“I do not with for you to continue.” You pressed the knife to his neck, the annoyance in your voice concealing the smile that threatened to curl your lips.
*
William let out a low whistle at the pair of you, now seated at dinner. He eyed you in a way that displeased the alpha by your side who sat hunched over a full plate of food. At the other end of the table, your family and a few friends passed dishes of food and asked for tales of your adventure.
“Watch where your eyes roam, amigo.”
As you spoke animatedly, the men whispered at each other. “I mean no disrespect, friend. Simply impressed at the re-emergence of your handsome face and at their clean and simple garments. Free of armor and scarves we have become-”
Pero growled at him, stopping mid-chew and widening the eyes of his companion. However, before they could continue, your father called to Pero, who sat upright and nodded, swiftly joining the conversation with what William would call charm while others unaware of the Spaniard’s regular disposition. He would even recall after dinner, when he watched the pair of you walk shoulders pressed that this was in fact the most he had heard him speak pleasantries and flattery that he meant. He could see the pride rolling off his skin as he spoke with your parents whose smiles grew, even when turned to shock at the violence and horrors you had seen in your time away.
“Goodnight, señora.” You were surprised when your mother’s scent had lost its edge. Her demeanor towards Pero less suspicious as she watched him refill your plate and linger near, even taking a moment to pull your wrist between his fingers when their questioning became too much. He expertly rolled his thumb over the delicate skin, calming you. When he was satisfied, he plucked your hand up to his lips and kissed your wrist before turning to your companion and returning to their conversation.
She watched him place his hand on the small of your back, leading you to the back of the house where you were rooming for your stay.
“William says we are here for two nights before we are ready to move on, we should have our coin by the end of the week.” Pero tugged at his tunic, checking his swords by the fireplace as you changed into a light shift. For the first time in weeks you would sleep in proper bed, one that despite all this time would smell familiar and clean.
Pulling at the blankets and furs, you shifted on your feet, arranging and fluffing the fabrics until you were content. Satisfied at the safety radiating from it. Slipping in, you curled your body before nothing the alpha who had stopped his movements, stone grinding metal mid stroke.
Carefully he shifted, rising to his full height before setting down his weapon, sharpened enough for the evening and strode over to you. He pulled at your blanket, tucking them around you as he bent down over you and kissed at your temple. “I will take the floor. Sleep”
Any protest dying on your tongue, his voice just above his alpha voice, a command enough that you did not dwell. If he wanted you, he could clearly have taken you there, in the nest you had clearly built for him. Alas, his alpha was not impressed and was merely doing you this favor.
As you drifted asleep, he laid on the floor listening to your breathing, waiting for you to steady and finally succumb to sleep. Would you want him as his alpha? He did not need the dagger, he found himself not pretending, he would be your alpha only if you wanted him. He would fight for you, by your side, and at night take you to bed and draw more delicious purrs from you as he sunk himself into you, filling you, laving at your skin, and perhaps one day marking you.
He stifled a groan, feeling himself harden under his blanket. Grunting, he shifted and willed himself to sleep wondering what the next day would bring knowing you did not want him, you had intended to ask William, but instead settled for him. He had made a promise and would see it to completion when you passed the tree line, out of sight of the village and your family.
The next day your father requested the men join him to canvas the traps as you stayed behind much to Pero and your own annoyance, taking the opportunity to bake and mend your clothing. No doubt your mother would question you in his absence, searching for some falsehood in your engagement.
“So, Mister Tovar what does an alpha like you have planned for my daughter?”
“What do you mean, Sir?”
“Do you plan to settle down, bond…mate?”
At his words, Pero bristled, William next to him paying particularly close attention to something nowhere near this conversation. Pero however did not hesitate with his words. Instead speaking very plainly as he had given it consideration in the evening prior, indulging in fantasies that could never be. However, when he awake he found his hand in yours, hands wrapped around each other’s wrists, thumbs pressed to glands.
“Well, your daughter is headstrong and determined. Where another alpha might try to extinguish such a beautiful flame, I do not care to do so. If m-my omega wished to continue the life that led to our fated union, then I shall follow her into battle until I am no longer able to. But if she should desire to lay her swords down, I would lay mine down alongside, build a home and fill her with my pups, s-sir.”
William smiled at his companion’s words. It was the first time he had spoken of anyone in such a manner. His brows rose, impressed and intrigued to hear such a thought out plan, no matter how untrue the coupling was. He swore that he smelled the unencumbered scent of you on Pero.
You father too seemed just as impressed, clapping his hand on Pero’s shoulder and nodding before continuing on, asking the men for their tricks and knowledge of a successful hunt.
You nervously peered at the tree line, looking for the outline of their forms to appear even if you knew they were all more than capable. They were collecting from the traps, not entering into battle. “You worry too much,” your mother spoke beside you, handing you vegetables to clean now that bread was in a pot over the even grown golden and crispy.
“We-we haven’t been apart from each other for too long.” which was the truth, unless you were in town where you locked yourself away in the comfort of the inn as the men sought the comfort of others, you knew where to find him.
Some nights you secretly hoped he would seek you but he never did.
Your mother seemed to be appeased, Not questioning your or Pero’s intentions, instead sharing the knowledge that while well intentioned may have been a bit antiquated causing you to scoff and chuckle as you mixed dough and washed clothing.
“You smell of him, you didn’t when you arrived but you do now… perhaps the more domestic life suits you both?”
Flustered at her words, you scrubbed the clothing doubly hard. Your mind wandering to such thoughts of settling with Tovar, building a home, and carrying his pups. Would he be a kind and caring alpha who would be rough when you needed him to be. Taking you and scenting you? Keeping you well filled and bred until your home was overrun with tiny bits of the two of you? Would he let you nip at his skin and claim him as you wanted him to claim you?
Flustering again at your own thoughts, you worked in silence listening and working away for the day. When they finally emerged from the forest, hands fisting various critters and a surprisingly large boar strung between them, your shoulders relaxed. Greeting them, you followed them and set to helping them clean and dress the meat for cooking and storage.
“Did you miss me, omega.” Pero teased when you set up next to him, staying enough of a distance away that you did not collide while you worked. A small part of him hoped you would say yes, he was certain he had caught a hit of excitement and relief when he had returned and your closeness now, the warmth of you next to him was almost overwhelming.
“No,” you teased, defiant as you ran your blade over the furred flesh, breaking the tendons and silk that held it together. “I was simply relieved to see dinner.” At that, he scoffed. Continuing to clean and parse the animal. When all was complete, you padded off to the kitchen, your father on your heels.
“Sooooo-” William joined Pero at the wash basin, cleaning their skin in the cool water. “Are you certain you are pretending?”
“Careful, amigo.” The mercenary scrubbed at his skin, shaking cool water at the blond man’s face, voice grumbling before he quickly made his way back to the cottage, leaving William laughing in his wake.
Maybe it was the exertion of dressing the day’s hunt or the work you’d done around the house but your body felt fatigued and warm in the dying sun’s light. Pulling at your tunic, your clothing felt too constricting and unpleasant. The threads of it dug into your skin and you hurried to your room for relief.
Disrobement could not occur quickly enough, with each passage of time you grew more desperate to rid yourself of the offensive clothing, casting them away from your body as quickly as you could remove them, going so far as to rip at the laces that held anything in place with the shiny sharp dagger you had promised Pero.
The alpha, the one man you wouldn’t mind in your room at this moment. Fisting the ornate handle, you stalked over to his clothing. Pulling and sniffing at every piece until you found the ones that still carried his scent on them, that quenched the need that was growing more painful and loud in your belly. That hurt and made you feel hollow and incomplete. The pain you had managed to not feel for a while, to stave off with your herbs and balms. The ones you had washed off in the bath with the cursed alpha that you now craved. No no no no! In annoyance and anger, you stuck the knife into the bedframe, the sharpened point sliding into the wood smoothly where it shook back and forth from your force.
Cursing under your breath, you pulled the alpha’s clothing and blankets around you, hauling his bedroll up onto the softer mattress and arranged them so. Where you nest felt lacking the night before, it now felt almost complete. Hands shaking, you smoothed out the fabric, wafting the heady scent of him into the air in such a way that you could not help but dive head first into it. You mouth at the fabric as a wave of slick rushed from between your thighs, coating you and practically dripping onto the bed. When another lightning bolt of pain shot through your body, you were unable to stop the cry that escaped your lips and traveled the short distance through the walls and into Pero’s ear.
At that moment he was still listening to William, for talking with would be too generous a word and a fallacy. He quickly held up his hand, quieting the blond man for once who listened with him when another sharp cry reached his ears, growling he sprinted from his companion who weighed his options and swiftly turned about face and walked down the road towards the tavern. If he was correct, he would need to send word of a delay or a reduction in available workforce to their next employer.
Much to his surprise, Pero found your mother outside of your door. She held a plate of preserved citrus and bread for you as well as other filling and hearty foods, at her feet a bucket of fresh water. She was whispering though any crack she could find, begging for you to unbar the door.
“Shall I fetch your Alpha? I brought you food, my dear. I’m sure this is not your first-”
“MOTHER!” Your voice raw and animalistic on the other side as you curled into yourself and clutched at Pero’s tunic. The last person you wanted to see at this moment was your mother, she did not need to lay eyes on you sweaty and disheveled, needy and desperate. “Please let me be.”
Much to your horror, the next voice to growl your name through the door was Pero’s. Your pretend alpha, the ruse you had carried on for the last day or so and the reason you were now unable to stand on your own two feet. At the sound of him another wave of arousal flooded through you, sliding along your skin, and filling the air of your scent, your need, your readiness.
“Unbar the door, omega.”
Was he trying to keep up appearances, as your mother stood wide eyed and smelling alarmed and concerned that your heat had clearly overtaken you and yet you did not call for your alpha. His eyes darted down to her form, taking the plate from her hands and turning back to the door to ask for entrance once more.
Unless you commanded him to leave your side, he would be unable to. Not for the sake of appearances but because he wanted to. He needed to. He needed you. Now he would not let you go through this blasted heat alone.
“Señora, I will take care of your daughter. Uh, see that no harm comes or that she is disturbed.”
“Will you not go help her, as her alpha? A good alpha?” Realizing the insult in her words, the woman stepped back before the door flew open and your hand reached out, wrapping around Pero’s collar.
“He is a perfectly fine alpha, mother! He is my alpha!” You snarled, pulled him into the room along with the provisions she had provided. Spinning on her heel, she was met with the broad chest of your father, who looked from the slamming door down to her. “Let’s go visit the tavern tonight, shall we?” wrapping a giant hand around hers, he pulled her from your childhood home and down the road.
Baring the door, you crawled back into your nest. Eyeing the knife handle which now stuck out over your bed. Would that be enough to fill you? Would it keep you from begging and pleading with an alpha that did not want you?
“Omega.” His voice was rich and deep, dark eyes impossibly dark as he kept them trained on your own. You couldn’t help but snap your eyes to him, whimpering almost at the command and coolness of his voice, he sounded composed. Had you glanced down, you would have seen his hand fist and relax, all resolve and restraint held in his palm which turned white at the knuckles and his nails dug little crescent shapes into his palm.
“Are you in heat, omega?”
You nodded, skin gating against the blankets. You hissed at the discomfort. “Yes, alpha.” Your voice was small and shaky from the exertion to not present yourself to him, allow your legs to fall open for him, to beg him for his cock and his knot. Instead you squeezed your thighs together, hands fisting and twisting the bedding around you.
“Do you need my knot, omega?”
You paused, unsure of what he was asking. Was he taking advantage of your situation, of your vulnerability? Was he determined to keep up the ruse? He himself did not know what he was asking you, but he knew if you said yes he would be yours until his last breath.
Stepping closer, he gingerly placed the plate and water on the chest pushed up against the stone walls of the cottage. Making sure to not startle or scare you as he peed off the outer layers of his clothing.
“I will ask once more, omega. But I must warn you…” he measured his words, careful and direct as he felt himself harden at the sight of you, in the nest you had built, panting while you practically suckled on his tunic. “The ruse will be no more. It will be over and I will be yours and you will be mine. I will fill you with my seed and keep you full until your heat is no more and you can only babble my name and your cunt takes on the shape of me. You will feel me with every step, on your skin, on your lips, inside of you. You will be mine, omega.”
He stood before you, having moved up with each word, stripped of everything but his tunic and his breeches. He bent over you, bringing his head close to yours as he had the night before. “I do not intend to leave you without an alpha, but say the word and I will leave you be. Bar the door behind me and I will make sure you are left alone until this heat passes.”
With wide eyes, you peered up at him. Smelling him with every pull of labored air. You melted with every word, he could have easily demanded you submit to him and you would have only to be cast aside once he had gotten what he wanted but here he stood, respectful and restrained, asking for your permission to be your alpha for more than just your heat.
Panting, you sat up, exposing yourself to him once more when the blankets and tunic tumbled from your sweat slicked skin. Hand reaching up, you nodded. “Please, alpha. Make me yours,” you asked in a strained whimper, reaching for him until you fisted his tunic and crashed your lips into his.
He tasted of everything you needed in that moment. The salt and musk of him seeping into your tongue and flowing through your body as you worked together to free him of his clothing. “Inside me, alpha. It hurts.”
You reached for him again, hand wrapping around his hardened length which was now purpled and leaking. It was big and you moaned at the sight. You would take all of him, let him fill you and knot you, keeping you crowded with him as he pressed himself tight against your body.
Plush lips traveled along your jaw and down your neck where he found your mating gland angry and leaking, the skin was hot and tender, smelling delicious and divine. He was certain that the heavens itself rested in the slope of your neck, would keep him fed and content for the rest of his days. You tasted of the finest wine and the naked sunlight that brought the new day and hope.
He groaned against your skin, sliding his cock against your slicked folds now swollen and sensitive. The pearl nestled between them aroused and pert under the rut of his lips as he coated himself in you.
Eyes fluttering shut, you moved your hips in tandem, keening for him to fill you up, to take you however he wanted. Instead he suckled at your leaking skin and continued to slide against your slicked core until you arched your back, thrusting your chest against him, wordlessly begging for more.
“I will make you come before I fill you, my omega. Take what you need right now before I give you what you want.” His words were mumbled into your chest. No sooner had your hips tilted and picked up speed, his moving to match. Bodies slid over each other as he mouthed at the plump soft skin of, tongue wrapping around pebbled skin pulling it taught between his lips. The sounds of slick and sweat a lewd sweet symphony.
“Come for me, mi cielo.”
With a few more thrusts and your body pulled taught and your legs shook. An animalistic growl left your chest that made him preen and puff with pride as he continued to slide against you. Before your body could relax, he held your wrists, pulling them above your head. “Are you ready for me, omega?”
“Yes, alpha. Yessss.” You hissed the last of your words as he held you and slid into your aching hole. He filled filled filled you, pressing himself into you until your hips and legs lifted, falling wider before wrapping around his middle.
Once he was pressed to the hilt, his lips pulled into a delicious smirk. “Did you use that, omega?” his eyes darted over to the knife, still stuck and jutting from the bedframe. “Did you stuff it into my cunt?”
You fluttered around his filth, mouth parting to respond before he dragged out of you and pressed back in. You moaned at his teasing words, gripping him tight and his head fell into the nook of your neck once more.
“This is mine, you will never need a mimicry, om-”
“Fuck, alpha. Fuck this cunt of yours and fill me up!”
Snapping his hips forward, he speared into you, mouth sucking at your skin once more and thumbs rolling around your wrists. He was scenting you and filling you, imbibing what you would give him and making sure to give you what you needed.
Your body curled into his when one hand finally released your wrist and found your pearl, working it until you cried out and tightened around him. Teeth dragging over skin, he was careful to not mark you just yet, not wanting to bond in your moment of lust and need.
Body bouncing under his, you threaded your fingers into his hair, pulling him close, pushing him into your gland which he happily laved at, pistoning his hips until you cried out once more and clamped down on him, pulling him in deeper, body shuddering against his.
A few thrusts later and his knot, which had grown full and large, slipped into you and he filled you with his seed. He was warm and heavy, pushing you into the nest that now smelled of you both.
You chirped against him, drawing a purr from his chest.
“You’re perfect, alpha.” You drawled, eyes dropping and the pain subsiding, leaving your body as he turned you both on your sides, his cock still pushed deep deep deep inside you.
*
“Are you certain you must leave in the morning?” Your mother peered at you, turning eyes to the men outside the window. “We’ve only just met your Tovar and you have to leave so soon?”
“Yes, mother. But we shall return once we are done, we gave William our word.”
“And you are both people of your word,” she raised her brows at you, understanding. In the course of your heat, Pero had proven himself to be a caring and protective alpha, emerging from your room only for more food and clean water. He’d bathed you and curled around you while you slept, rubbing your wrists and the glands behind your ears as well as kissing the ones inside your thighs as he soothed the dull ache that extinguished and left you serene and satiated in his arms.
“Mi cielo, Omega.” His eyes fluttered closed as you dotted him with kisses, basking in a moment where your omega did not need attention or pleasing and his alpha was dormant. “Yes, my love.”
In this quiet moment he proposed to you a plan to continue with William for one final job before returning to the village or wherever you pleased to build a home. “But if you want to continue as a sellsword, I would be honored to die by your side.”
You’d needed time to decide, give up the life you’d built for yourself or settle into a life as a bonded omega with her alpha. The man that loved you as you were and would follow you to the ends of the earth.
Now you watched him speak with your father who gestured with great enthusiasm at the near distance while William looked on, a smug and caring smile gracing his lips. You shared in that smile, both of you never seeing this softer side of Pero, who always kept a tough exterior. Turning, the blond man caught your eye and tipped his head, an understanding passing between you and the answer to your dilemma.
He’s put down his sword, no longer a man who travels and kills for coin. Instead he’s built you a home where you can grow old together. Fill it with the voices of your loved ones, be it the ones you make together or take in as your own. He’s also prepared for it to be just the two of you.
You both wake early to get chores around the cottage done, gardening, tending to livestock, and making sure you’re set up for the next day. You even worked ahead the day before so you could have a few hours of indulgence.
He’s traded a few of the pelts he has for a small parcel of sweetmeats and spices you’ve talked about acquiring.
You’ve knitted him new socks, made from the wool you sheared last spring, having spun it to softness and knitted tight. You’ve also made him a handsome soap and a new stone to sharpen his blade.
When he’s finally home, you both cook together. Lingering touches when he hands you the new spices he’d gotten you. At times he feigns confusion, asking you if he cut the vegetables to your liking. When you insist on they are perfect, he asks you to show him just to make sure. His calloused hands rest on your hips, digging into your skirts as he presses close, lips skimming the slope of your neck.
He growls in your ear as you fluster, knowing and feeling how much he likes to watch you work with a sharp blade.
With a few distractions that leave you shaking and breathless, dinner is late but worth the time and effort you both put in.
While you sleep in his arms at night, he adds another count to his collection of setting suns he’s seen with you. He’ll always keep count of them and cherish all the rising suns where he awakes with you in his arms.
Pero Tovar/Fem!Reader (+ splashes of William Garin/Fem!OC)
Pero and William seek shelter for the winter - where’s better than a brothel in a small town? They want food and warmth, but Pero gets a lot more...
It’s finally here!! Me and @yours-truly-r hope you enjoy reading this as much as we did writing it 💕
Series Masterlist | Series Taglist
Chapter Warnings/Content: reader is a sex worker, period-typical sexism, oral sex (f and m receiving), size difference (if you squint), p-in-v, cockwarming/sleeping without withdrawing, soft!Pero, degrading language (whore is used by Pero, other terms are not).
Word Count: 3.8k
spanish translations at the bottom
The harsh weather outside would push anyone to the nearest shelter. That's what Pero and William told themselves as they entered the brothel. And of course, how could they deny the warm embrace of a woman when they were chilled from the rain?
Warm light graces soft features, filling in the slopes of breasts, rounding out sensuous curves, dramatizing cheekbones and the pout of lips that would still be somewhat tantalizing, even in stark daylight. The room seemed to thrum with sex, each shadow bleeding into that of the next form, distracting and enticing, but still… they were enchanted by you in seconds.
“That one is mine.” William breathes and steps forward, only to meet Pero’s hand against his chest.
The Spaniard grunts, fisting his hand in his brother’s shirt, a warning not to continue his present course. You're a meal to his starved lust - the way your hips sway as you dodge tables, the way you avoid the grabbing hands of other patrons in a well practiced dance, The painted smile you show to the men and the genuine warmth you send your sisters enticing him.
"No amigo,” He cautions, “you got first pick in the last brothel. I was stuck with the whore with no teeth. I get the choice whore this time."
William raises his hands in defeat, knowing a lost cause when he sees one. Besides, the blonde across the room with the rosy peaks of her nipples visible over the top of her loose cotton shirt would be a fine consolation prize.
Pero walks over to you as soon as their rooms are arranged with the Madame. "Hola senorita, how much for the night?"
"Depends what you want to do, señor." you gift him a smile, a small token of appreciation for not being accosted by his hands before he pays.
"You know my language?" He asks, surprised and curious.
"You're not the first Spaniard I've met." you shrug easily.
He smiles, raising a hand to run his thumb over his lip as he eyes you, "I want a warm cunt to sink into, all night. With my cock, my fingers, my tongue. How much?"
You give him a little less than your usual price, someone who openly plans to use their tongue? That's a luxury none of the women would turn away.
He grunts in approval “I am in room 16. I have a meal to finish. You will be waiting for me, si?" He offers his hand to yours, and you provide it, resting your hand in his. Your trust is rewarded with a soft kiss to your knuckles.
You nod, and slip into the private area, arranging for the things you need to be brought up - warm bread, soft butter and smoked meats for the cold moments in between. A few toys, warm water for his hands and face, and some rags. You take the back stairs up to room 16, everything but the water carried in your arms, another whore brings a bucket up behind you. Once you're alone, you strip and wait on the scratchy wool blankets.
Evidently he's quite hungry as it takes him longer than most, but you don't mind, he's handsome, and, while gruff, he seems kind. Waiting is no chore - a moment of solitude is a prize rarely found in a brothel.
“See Pendejo? She waits in my bed for my cock.”
“Yes, yes, but does she have tits like these?” William squeezes the blonde whore’s tits as she perches on his lap. “I think not,” he smiles at the woman, hauling her closer to his chest.
“If more did, business wouldn't be so good for me.” She giggles, enjoying sitting on his knee and letting his broad warm hands roam where they please, 'testing the merchandise', more for her pleasure than his.
Pero scoffs and turns his head from the scene before him. “You brag but we will see which has the tighter cunt.” He stands and shoves his chair back into place before he turns to make his way to the room in which you wait. The blonde and William follow close behind, their laughter giving them away. He doesnt turn back to grace their buffoonery with his gaze, he has his eyes set on reaching heaven.
The number on his door is thrilling, knowing what waits behind as he opens it enough to allow William a glimpse of you splayed out on his bed. His gaze running over your bare body.
You look soft, reclining and smiling at the door, nonplussed by the presence of others behind your broad shouldered customer. Your eyes flicker behind him, fingers twitch in a wave to the blonde, and then your gaze is back, giving him your full attention.
“Buenas Noches” He says smugly, before he turns and slams the door in his companion's face.
He lets his eyes wander as much as he wants before he goes to wash his hands without you even having to ask.
“What do I call you, Spaniard?” You wonder, “A title perhaps?” You bite your lip, looking him over as he dries his hands. “Soldier?” His eye twitches, “No... Commander?” He likes that even less…
“Pero.” He grunts, beginning to remove his clothes.
“Pero,” You test it out, “Your name.”
“Si.” He nods, “And you, little flower? What do I call you?”
“Call me what you will,” you shrug, nonplussed.
“Your name?” He presses, gentle, but insistent
“I’ve never had need of one.” You shrug. “Nobody gave me one as a babe, then I grew from child into bar wench into whore.”
“And your companions? Surely they are not complicit with such a thing?”
“Blythe, the woman your friend took, calls me pet names, same as our clients. Beyond that I have nothing. Others seem satisfied with Darling, Pretty, Little one, whatever they deem fit”
His brows furrow at that. "No true name for such a lovely creature? Seems a shame, now I do not know what to cry out when you sink down on me."
You tilt your head, curious at his insistence of naming you. "Most clients choose curses, or my profession: whore, bitch, slut."
He huffs at that. "I will not. Hermosa suits you more." He starts unlacing his trousers as he sits on the edge of the bed. "Come, kneel, I want to see those tits bounce as you choke on me." Pretty words only go so far before you’re reminded, he’s still a soldier. A man not used to minding his words, gruff and dangerous, seeking only a night of relief from the elements and the warm embrace of a body against his. Pretty words he has given to appease you, but nothing will distract him from the prize between your legs.
“Hermosa?” You ask, dutifully sinking to your knees, “I admit the other Spaniard only spoke in curses. It is prettier than puta.”
He grunts in disapproval. "It means beautiful. Should sound nicer than being called a bitch." He fists a hand in your hair and moans as your head sinks down.
He lets you take the lead, keen to watch you gag on him but wanting to let you work first - he's patient, and only half-hard, there's no use in holding your head down and making you stay still while he moves his hips. Yet.
It doesn't take long for his full potential to show.
You stare up at him, a little confused as his hand pulls you away. “Pero?”
"Keep going, hermosa." He smiles, moving one hand to your hair, not to guide, just to touch. "Tu boca es el cielo"
The praise (you assume it’s praise) spurs you on, sending you working for more honeyed words, taking him deeper into your mouth. He wants to see you gag and you're not one to deny a paying customer.
He groans beautifully and his cock twitches in your throat, activating the reflex again. He takes more control then, understanding your limits, pulling your head up and down, though you don't need much guidance.
"Hermosa, I will have you take all of me," he warns, before slowly pushing your head down until your nose is pressed into the soft curls of his base.
He's gentle while you try not to choke on his thick length. You've had brutish men not care for your comfort, but he knows you intuitively, the calluses of his hand scrape against your soft palm as he takes your hand, squeezing it,causing your gaze to pull up to his briefly before you gag once more, instinctively closing your eyes.
"Will you swallow me?" he asks. You squeeze his hand, eyes flicking up to try and meet his, a silent acknowledgement. "Jesucristo, hermosa, tómala, tómame…”
He lets you take him at your own pace then, hand relaxing and letting you use your expertise until he's groaning, low and deep as he cums down your throat. You swallow every drop and open your mouth to show him… His cock would twitch if it were not so spent.
God he's stunning: eyes dark, cheeks flush, chest heaving, cock glistening with spit.
"I guarantee you, hermosa, I will last longer from now on," he assures, pulling you up, "the first release after so long is always fast." He cups your cheek, "tell me,” he pauses, his eyes caressing your face, “kissing?"
"Kissing?"
"Is it permitted?"
"I..." you blink, "I don't- I have never heard that it isn't allowed. But, it’s…I’ve never…"
He frowns, "You have never-?"
You shake your head. He almost sighs, your wide eyed gaze far too pure for your surroundings.
"No name, never been kissed. I've never met one so beautiful that was also so neglected. I trust my Spanish brother at least gave you the pleasure of his tongue on your cunt? Or an Irishman did?"
"I've heard from other girls but no, none of my customers have ever tried."
He scowls at that, "I've never met a whore so... innocent. Tonight will have many firsts for you hermosa. I do not prohibit myself from any pleasure willingly given."
He pulls you up onto his lap and lays back on the bed with you in his arms, his broad and muscled chest heaving as he catches his breath. You've never had such a kind touch as this before... men never care about what you feel, how you are - if they hurt you, they might make sure they won't have to pay to make you better, but usually, even when they pay for a whole night, they don't want to hold you... they release and roll away…
"While I recover, we will discuss the name I will be moaning." The damned unsullied air about you resurfacing a need to provide tenderness.
"Hermosa is nice." you stare at him.
"It's not a name however," he frowns, brows creasing as he thinks.
You bite your lip and look him over, one of your hands rising to his face without you realizing, your fingers tracing his cheek and the very bottom of the scar that twists his otherwise smooth skin.
"You called me little flower," you remind him, "that's nice."
"Also not a name," he points out, reaching to take your hand from the scar. He's littered with them, usually doesn't give a shit about whores touching them... usually doesn't have one like you who touches his face so softly…
"There was a woman, a traveler, years ago when I was too young to be a whore. She wore a blue shawl, had heavy golden jewelry around her neck. I liked her name." The name falls off your lips softly, you’re thoughtful as you say it, reminiscent.
He repeats it softly and hums in agreement, "It suits you."
"It's that simple?"
"Si hermosa, that simple." He takes your hand in his and reaches it down to where his length is hardening again. "Now, again."
You start stroking him, letting him manhandle you how he wants - he just rolls over, setting you on your back. An unusual choice.
"I want to see your tits bounce, hermosa, but first I want to give you a release. May I taste you?"
This is what you had hoped for, the promise of a tongue against your clit. "Yes." You stare at him as he crawls down the length of your body. The men don't usually ask. And certainly not to do that. They pay, and you obey.
He wastes no time diving in, licking from entrance to clit before burying his tongue inside you with a loud moan.
It makes you squeal in true pleasure for a moment, before you start putting on the fake drawn out moans of a whore.
He comes up and says your new name. "Stop. I will earn the sounds."
Again, you're stunned silent until he traces circles around your clit and stars burst in your eyes.
"P-Pero" your hands fist the sheets, overwhelmed at the sensations he gives you. His hands hold your legs apart, until one slides below his chin, his fingers collecting the wetness that gathers at your entrance as his eyes capture yours.
To see such a warrior between your thighs... giving you a pleasure you've never before experienced... "f-fuck, I... please-" you're close. Incredibly close……
His fingers dip inside, his tongue circles, and his eyes seem to glow with the flickering light of a thousand candles as he stares at you, studying you the way a wolf might watch its prey. The calluses on his palms scrape up your leg before he grabs your hand and moves it to his hair.
You pull at the strands, and he moans into you, the vibrations shooting through you up your spine and into your chest. Your walls quiver around him, legs clamp closed around his ears, your head falls back, and an elongated cry leaves your lips. A desperate, breathless, thankful "Pero..." follows.
He stays between your legs, drinking down your release, the wet licking noises obscene. It brings a bright blush to your cheeks and oversensitivity makes you whine and your legs quiver, but you know better than to tell a man to stop. But Pero doesn't need you to, he knows when your whimpers grow pained and the shaking is unpleasant.
"Perfect, hermosa." He says your name again, loving how it makes you smile. "I can no longer wait." He's dripping precum onto the sheets, fighting the urge to grind against whatever surface he can reach, knowing that a little moment’s wait will reap a wonderful reward, “I will fill you until I spill from your cunt.”
You smile, still a little lost in pleasure, and reach for him.
"How would you like me? on top? Or beneath?"
He growls your new name, "ride me."
But before you have a chance to move, he leans above you, looming over your body, making you feel smaller than you are. His hand trails up your side, and he leans down, stopping short as his nose brushes yours.
"Close your eyes, hermosa.
It's a command, but it comes as a whisper, a plea.
You do so, lips parting ever so slightly in anticipation.
His lips touch yours lightly, a familiar tangy taste - your essence - coats them. Then his tongue, so skilled and strong, brushes lightly, tentative. Yours flicks out, touching his for a moment before you gasp, as he uses the opening to deepen the kiss. After a moment he pulls away, almost smiling.
"Eres jodidamente perfecta"
You're a little hazy, eyes still closed.
He can't help the small pleased huff that escapes his lips, "come now hermosa." He flips the two of you over which startles your eyes open. "Ride me."
"Oh-" you nod and then this is where muscle memory takes over. You scoot down and grind on him, circling your hips in a tantalizing motion. Pero’s hands come to hold your hips.
"Don't tease me hermosa" he hums and gives your ass a gentle tap.
You nod, then reach for him, stroking a few times before you line him up. He squeezes your hips to prompt you, and you sink down a little - just the tip.
His chest heaves, a grunt leaves him, and he wants to let his head fall back but he won't allow himself to look away.
Slowly, bracing yourself on his chest, you sink down until he's fully inside you, thick and throbbing.
"You're so big," You gasp.
"Don't-" He stops you, "Do not give me false praises."
"I'm not." You stare down at him, "It's like being pierced with a spear."
"Not as painful, I hope?" A smile forms slowly, his hands squeeze again. "When you are ready, hermosa. I fear I will not be gentle."
"You have been far more gentle than I am used to already.” The words are said without a thought, but they stall Pero for a moment. But then a small swivel of your hips dispels the moment and pushes him into action, he bucks his hips up into you, causing you to jolt forward with a punched moan. He seems to get even deeper in that moment.
You're reluctant to lift yourself off of him, the heavy full feeling of his cock inside you too intoxicating to just abandon, but another piston of his hips helps you regain yourself. You bounce up and down in carefully practiced motions, designed to bring the stunning man beneath you to mind numbing pleasure. Your tits bounce as you move, tugging at your skin with every down motion.
Pero's eyes flick between your swollen cunt stretched around him and the plush bounce of your chest. His hands can't resist the temptation of the pillowy skin. He cups them, pushing them together and up. The sight brings a groan from his lips, Sitting up as you move he buries his face in your cleavage and peppers your breasts with open mouthed, wet kisses. His mouth makes marks over nearly faded ones, determined to lay his claim on you, to profess his own prowess to other customers and display his abilities to the other whores - a challenge to the men, and a promise to the women.
His hands are large... all of him is... but his hands especially... they hold you, squeeze you, cup you with a gentleness that contrasts so dramatically with the rough calluses that cover them, massaging you with every rock of your hips.
His mouth, hot and wet and so devoted to covering your skin, tracing kisses between your breasts, leaving neither neglected for long. He covers you with him, his touch, his marks, his saliva, his sweat... every part of you thrumswith the pleasure he provides.
You clench tightly around him at all the wonderful sensations, a soft moan leaving your lips as you clutch his shoulder, his hair, his stomach, his thighs… anything to keep you grounded in the most pleasure you've ever felt with any man.
"Pero, oh Pero," the reverence with which you say his name makes him shiver.
"I have you hermosa," he brings his hand down to rub your clit in tight circles, his own release suddenly so much closer. "Want to feel how tight you clench around me when you cum."
“Pero..." You gasp, holding yourself up as his hips piston upwards. Your elbows come to rest by his shoulders, hands carding through his hair as he nips at your breasts and rubs at your clit.
"Hazlo, para mí hermosa. Déjalo ir."
You know not the words themselves, but the sentiment is clear, and with a few more thrusts, your body seizes up, thighs quaking, fingers pulling, back arching. The hand that's not on your clit snakes round to hold you steady, pressing you flush against him as he swears into your skin.
He holds you as you shake and clench around him, the sensation drawing his own release with a sharp tug of you downwards as his hips jolt up, trying to push himself deeper and deeper. His arms lock around you and he seems to freeze as his cock pulses and fills you with rope after rope of hot, thick cum. The wave of heat seems to swallow him whole, an all-encompassing rapture of pleasure given to him by your slick, tight cunt. Every knot in his body seems to unwind, his ever-tired muscles breath a sigh of pleasure and release. He's still reeling in the orgasm, even as hes emptied of seed, as his arms start to slack and his chest heaves. The two of you fall against the bed, worn out from the piercing intensity of your orgasms.
The little hitched breaths and studded moans are music to his ears as you slump against his chest, a soft murmur of his name gracing your lips. Bone tiredness falls over the two of you, even as his cock softens inside you and his cum leaks out of you, dripping along his shaft.
He kisses the top of your head and runs his fingers up and down your spine, relishing the weight of you on his chest.
He’s not sure when he fell asleep, but he wakes feeling warmer than he has in months. Even nights in the desert climate were cold, and now, as winter rushes in, he would usually be shivering under a threadbare blanket, his back pressed to William’s as they seek out warmth from the only other body around.
The softness beneath him reminds him where he is within seconds of waking. The heat above, along, and around, has him groaning. And hard.
“Hola, Pero.” You smile, clenching around him, “You slept through a lot of your time with me.”
"It was the best sleep I've had in years cielito.” His eyes flutter open and he looks up at you, hair messy, his marks blooming along your chest and eyes bright with arousal. "Have I been taunting you in my sleep hermosa? Slowly hardening inside you?"
You bite your lip and nod.
Pero grunts and leans up to catch your lips in a possessive kiss, deep and claiming. His tongue licking into your mouth.
You groan into his mouth, hips rocking against his automatically. Pulling back for air you smirk at him.
"I would have left you to sleep, but your arms were very determined to keep me in place."
He grins, then, as though you were weightless, he flips you, never leaving your heat, and ducks his head to kiss you once more. "How long do I have with you?"
"A few hours yet," you assure him, "There’s food and water on the table."
"I have all I wish to eat right here," he nips at your neck, "And all I wish to drink here," he thrusts into you.
It pulls a keening whine from your throat as he starts putting those last few hours to good use.
Next >
Translations:
hola señorita - hello miss
pendejo - idiot
buenas noches - good night
hermosa - beautiful
puta - bitch
tu boca es el cielo - your mouth is heaven
jesucristo, hermosa, tomala, tomame - jesus christ, beautiful, take it, take me
Eres jodidamente perfecta - you are fucking perfect
Hazlo, para mí hermosa. Déjalo ir. - do it, for me beautiful. let go.
Pero Tovar x Magical Professor!Reader
Great Wall & Harry Potter Magical AU crossover
Part 5 | Masterlist
Summary: Sent back in time to retrieve a rare and extinct plant and through an unfortunate series of events, you find yourself with a reluctant warrior, Pero Tovar.
Warnings: Wizarding World references, Pero is Pero, Angst, Two idiots in love, Smut, Feels
Wordcount: 5.4k
Notes: Here it is! The last chapter. I know this isn’t a perfect AU but I really REALLY enjoyed writing it. I took elements from a familiar world and made them my own. While I know that’s not everyone’s cup of tea I do sincerely appreciate the people that did give this a fair chance and who engaged with me. It truly means the world. Thank you.
This fic is super unexpected but here we are. The Wizarding World is near and dear to my heart and has been my entire life, however I do not support JKR and I actively try to not give her money. However, I am basing this on some of her ideas for my own fanfic. If you dislike HP and JRK, please do not read. Do not expose yourself to anything you are uncomfortable with. While I try to stay away from specific BIG names, there are some involved that are alluded to more than anything but reader is a grown adult professor in the mid 1980′s.
Hooves touched solid ground and Pero tumbled to the ground. He could do without flying, though he could grow to tolerate this if necessary. Groaning, he stood and waited, the thestral by his side neighing softly and shaking its skeletal frame. The retching he expected to overtake him did not come, thankfully.
The night’s sky had taken over the forest once, blanketing it in darkness and a steady low lying fog. The moon’s light and the lanterns you both now held guiding you over the knotted and raised roots of the ancient trees.
His dark eyes darted to the ground, following the hooved shapes that sat heavier in the dirt. You had assured him that there weren’t many animals with hooves that traveled in large groups in this forest. Satisfied with your information, he quickly searched for their tracks, combined with the markings a human might leave behind, and lead you close to where you had last seen Aphron, the centaur.
Soon the sound of hooves circled around you, not many though. “Ah, you’ve recovered from the flower.” Aphron emerged from behind a tree, a sly grin on his lips as he looked from you to Pero. He noted the closeness that had not existed between you the last he had seen you.
He laughed a light chuckle at the scandalized look on your face, your form flustering in the moonlight. “How, uh, we…”
“The whole forest heard.”
“All of it?”
“Enough to understand.”
At your side Pero laughed and his chest puffed with pride, he only smiled wider when you shot him a glare. He was insufferable.
Stepping forward and pushing through your embarrassment and you pulled out the hourglass, holding the now intact vessel out to the centaur. Aphron’s demeanor almost instantly changing from cheeky to wonder. The sands inside the glass glimmered and shone as he reached out.
“I need your help. The wandmaker repaired the glass but the magic within…”
“Is our magic.” He finished for you, a tinge of pride and reverence in his voice.
You nodded, your eyes held a silent plea and hopefulness that he understood. “Come.” He gestured you both forward, leading you through the forest until you were met with a thicket. Tree limbs and leaves tangled thick forming an almost impenetrable wall that fell away when the centaur approached, holding his hand out to you allowing you passage through the foliage. In the center there sat the sphere you had given him, it spun silently casting constellations around the space. The air twinkled around you.
“With the assistance of the moon and stars, I can repair your hourglass, but you will need to leave immediately. The magic may not last long.” With a quick turn, he kneeled in front of the sphere and connected the necklace to the spinning orb which now emitted a brilliant light.
“Oh Merlin.” Your heart dropped into your stomach as you turned to Pero who stood with a brave smile.
“I-I thought we would have m-more times… Pero-”
“Mi Bruja, your quest is almost over and my promise to you has been fulfilled.” He reached for your hands, brought them to his chest, and touched his forehead to yours.
“If you,” your mind spun with the stars around you, the words you searched for hidden deep in your throat, unwanting to be found and spoken. If you did not speak them, they would never be true. “If you have a painting made and perhaps hung in the castle, then I-I can see you… later.”
He looked at you curiously, laughing as a tear rolled down his cheek, following the scar you had traced in the early morning’s light and kissed after he told you the tale of how it had come to adore his face. “You are a curious creature, mi alma. I shall never forget you or this world. If you allow me.”
His forehead pressed to yours as you moved to close the space that dare to linger between you. Asking to come with you was not an option, you both knew and would not speak it. “Pero Tovar, you are the curious creature. Nothing like those books.”
“I hope that is good.”
“The best.” You whispered the words against his lips before pressing a kiss to his lips. “Let’s share these memories? No one needs to know but us.” The need to take these memories from him was no longer a concern to you. Who would believe him anyway and no one would care if they were true.
“Just us, mi bruja.”
Aphron’s voice cut through the air, a blessing and a curse at the same time. Time. You both cursed as you pulled away. “Take care, Pero.” Reaching for the hourglass, you thanked the centaur for his help. Your free hand held tight in Pero’s until you had to pull away and wrap the chain around your neck. Counting the turns, you kept eye contact with him until he faded from your view and your bellybutton pulled; the morning light shone through the thicket which now lay barren and empty. As you approached the wall you let out a sob.
***
Saul Croker stood peering into the forest, you were late by over an hour. He fiddled with his pocket watch, deciding to give you a few more minutes before he returned to the ministry for any information he could scavenge for you in time.
But all those thoughts flew from his mind when you emerged from the forest, a small jar containing the flower.
“Thank goodness! You’re alright.”
“I’m sorry I’m late, but I’m happy to see you, Saul.” You smiled wearily, any tears your cried now dired on your skin for no one to see.
As soon as you handed him the flower you were pulled into a flurry of activity. The next few days kept you from the castle, busy with the healers who worked to brew the life saving potion.
When you slept, which was not for long, you heard his voice. The last moments with Pero in the forest as he faded from view you swore you heard him call out to you, reach for you. But you awoke every time you called for him, the hourglass pulling you back.
“You alright?”
Saul watched you from across the desk where you had pulled your notes and the hourglass sat between you.
“Yes, uh, yes.” You cleared your throat, pulling your thoughts back to the task at hand. “My notes on the hourglass are… horrendous.” The quill, though trusty, had taken you a few days to clear up its scribblings as they were known to be temperamental and nosey. As it turned out, the quill wrote more than you accounted for, documenting a few intimate moments as well as conversations.
You had quickly pulled them from Saul when you realized what was inked before he had a moment to read. Now you sat with your notes organized with a few illustrations of the plant as well your experience with the hourglass.
Saul pointed to the hourglass. “This needs limits. We can’t have nefarious or incompitent wizards meddling with time.” You agreed that there was too much room for disaster and chaos should it fall into the hands of the wrong person. Your eyes sullen as you watched him note the time limit of a few hours and send the hourglass off to have the magic adjusted and the restrictions placed.
“The holiday is almost over, I’m sure you’ll want to return to the castle to prepare before students arrive.”
You nodded. A glimmer of hope tickling the back of your mind. Perhaps Pero had a painting made and you would be able to hear about the time after you had left. Though your heart hurt at having to leave him, you hoped he settled and found himself surrounded by calm and someone who adored him.
But when you returned you found none, no new painting, and when you asked the groundskeeper, he looked at you as if you had sprouted another head before he padded off with his cat in tow.
The school year came and went along with dreams of Pero until even those had left you, even when you tried to cling to the fading memories of his scent and the feel of his skin. The ghost of him no longer by your side as you packed your trunk and cleaned your classroom.
“Need sum help?” The half giant gamekeeper ducked his head as he entered your greenhouse, he eyed your hands submerged in a vat of dung and the clothespin pinching your nose.
“Yeth pleath.” As you nodded to the bucket in the corner, the wand tucked behind your ear tumbled into the sludge, sizzling on contact. Cursing, you pulled yourself free and plucked the wand from the muck, hurriedly tossed it into a bucket of milk. Cursing, you quickly scrubbed at your wand but the wood softened and drooped in your hands.
“Oh thit.”
He chucked behind you, adding a bucket of fish bones to the vat and mixed, neutralizing the sludge for use in the gardens. “Looks like a trip to London is ‘n order! Maybe a drink at t’tavern will help yer mood.”
You scrunched your nose as you removed the clothes pin, rubbing the tender skin that was pinched tight. “Mood?”
“Anyone with at least one eye c’n see it.”
You rolled your eyes as he gruffed another laugh. “Let’s finish this up and I’ll grab my things.”
A short while later after you had manured the flower beds, left a detailed list for the groundskeeper to follow in the month you would be gone (since you liked to return early between school years to prepare ingredients and tend to the plants with the department head), you packed up your belongings into your pack, and met your colleague near the lake.
“Looks like someone wants t’give us a lift.” A tentacle patted one of the small boats, an offer you couldn’t turn down. By the time you arrived at the shore, your robes were wet and your side hurt from laughter, your mood visibly lifted for the first time in a while much to the satisfaction of the tentacle that pawed at your cheek, sucking a soft kiss against the apple and slinking back into the water. With a wink and wave of your half-giant companion’s pink umbrella, your clothes dried and you hopped into the sidecar of his motorcycle. He revved the engine, sputtering forward before the bike lifted off the ground and flew off to London.
*
You padded through the tavern into the narrow and winding street which usually was packed and bustling but now sat quiet. The day was coming to an end with many shops closing up, but thankfully the one you needed was not.
“Wand-erful to see you, dear friend!”
Garrick stood on a ladder, shoving a few wands onto the shelves, their boxes emblazoned with his family’s emblem. He had hair much like the relatives before him, the same kind yet wild eyes that had helped you in your time of need centuries ago. His ladder drifted to the side, allowing him to deposit more wands into the shelves before he stepped down, nodding at you with a warm smile.
“Always a pleasure Garrick.”
“It seems our professor here is in need o’a new wand.”
“Not new, I hope it can be repaired?” You corrected, depositing the wand onto the counter top. “Oh my!” He gasped at the wand that spread flat onto the counter. He clicked his tongue before giving you a sorrowful look.
“Perhaps the core can be salvaged.” He said hopefully, offering you whatever he could with a woeful look in his eyes. Understanding, you thanked him before turning to look around the shop. You wove between the shelves for a bit, fingertips brushing the smooth wood and linen covered boxes. The men’s voices fading the deeper you meandered into the shop until a portrait caught your attention.
The frame and background sat empty, a long stone wall fading into the distance with a few embellishments of fire and a green light over the horizon. Your eyes darted down to the name on the placard: Pero Tovar - Battle of the Great Wall.
“Garrick!” You called over your shoulder. “When did you get this painting?”
The old mad appeared at your side, head cocked back as he squinted at the painting. “It’s been in my family for generations, always there but always empty.”
“Empty?” Your heart fluttered. Pero had managed to have a painting made, but he did not inhabit his frame. “Are there more?”
“No, my dear. This is the only one made, which reminds me!” He rummaged at a pile of parchment, humming when he located the one he sought. “You will forgive me, this portrait is yours. It would seem it has been waiting for you here as my great great great-grandfather willed it to you.” He held out the letter, Gerbolt’s writing willing the portrait to you. Accepting the letter, your eyes pooling and threatening to shed tears.
“My sincerest apologies for not giving it to you earlier. It must have slipped my mind but how on earth did he- Are you alright?”
You sniffed, pocketing the letter and running a sleeve under your nose. “Yes, yes. Thank you. It’s beautiful.”
As you helped him pull the portrait down, another letter fluttered to the ground, addressed to “the future shopkeeper.”
“Hmmm. Curious, I should clean more often. Letters seem to appear out of thin air!” He hummed at the letter, before putting it away. “I’ll read this later.”
You carefully bundled the painting, agreeing to a drink and dinner at the tavern while Gerrick insisted on repairing your wand right then, but warned that it would take a few days. “I’ll see if there is a room at the inn, then and thank you, Gerrick.”
**
Dinner and a few drinks later you sat on the floor of your room at the inn in your pajamas, the painting propped across for you. Leaning close, you called for Pero hoping he would hear you and perhaps appear. “Pero, i-it’s me.”
From the far bend of the wall, one of the creatures who was busy sliding up and down the stone wall turned to look at you, it’s attention now yours. “Have you seen him?” The little bit of magical oil paint shook its head. “Ever?” Again it responded with a shake of it’s head and a lonesome whimper before settling at the base of the wall and curling into a ball. Soon the sounds of it’s snores emanated from the frame as it’s ridged back rose and fell. Your shoulders slumped as you sat back and pulled another swig from the mug you had taken from the bar, enjoying the last of your evening’s drink of choice. You had hoped he would be in his painting but from the sounds of it, he never inhabited it.
You would have to research paintings and their magical properties for whatever circumstances would render him absent. Perhaps because he was muggle, it would not work the same for his kind? Was magic not compatible with his non-magical life? You mulled it over and climbed into bed, keeping the portrait in sight should he return.
The next morning you chewed your breakfast, squinting at the painting while the Tao-Tei in the distance ran back and forth, occasionally sliding down the wall. Periodically fireballs would shoot over the wall which it would dodge and run from, hind side waggling happily.
The dreams of him had returned, almost as if they were happening all over again. The smell of his, the leather and earth that covered his skin as he held himself over you. The softness of his lips that kissed the sunlight from your skin, trailing over your neck. The scowl that grew deeper whenever he considered what lay before him. Your warrior who lived centuries away, returned in your dreams once more.
You summoned your history book, one last look before you’d close the book on any recorded history leaving the portrait as your only hope. Thumbing through the pages, you searched for him and found the entry of the battle but as it had before, there was nothing new. Perhaps it was your edition?
Pulling on your robes, you quickly made your way down the inn’s stairs though the tavern and into the narrow street where the shops had begun to open for the day. The cobblestone that stood empty last night, now held displays and food carts. The air filling with the smell of roasting street food and sweets. Quickly, you padded past the wand shop which still stood closed, the sounds of boxes tumbling and a few quick muffled yells as if someone stubbed their toe filtering out. You stopped, knocking on the door. Gerrick’s face appeared in the window, eyes more wild than usual, skin pinked in exertion.
“Are you alright in there?”
Nodding he yelled that he was alright. “Yes, my dear! Yes!” he exclaimed before retreating back inside. He was always such an odd fellow at times. Shrugging, you continued to the bookshop, hoping they would have the books you required.
“Professor, this is not a library, you cannot simply rifle through our books!” The shopkeeper yanked the book from your hand just as you reached the entry, so you pulled another copy from the shelf, narrowing your eyes at him before he angrily yanked it from your hands once again and with his wand, floated the remainder of the shelf just out of reach.
You reached for your wand tucked behind your ear and your fingers circled around nothing. “Sir, if you would please be so generous as to let me look at this edition-”
“This is a place of business, not charity. If you want one, you will need to purchase one.” He stood smugly, the books circling overhead as you pinched the bridge of your nose. “Yes, alright. I would like to purchase one.” You practically growled at him. No sooner had you exchanged money, had he coughed and looked from you to the door. “No loitering.”
On your way out, you decided you would petition the headmaster to buy books directly from the publisher and perhaps second hand if it meant not giving this shop your business. You mulled over your plan, book tucked under your arm as you stalked down the street, heading towards the inn when you crashed into a rather firm yet fleshy wall.
The gamekeeper half-giant you knew so well stood, eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled at the sight of you. “There y’are! Garrick needs you at the wand shop.”
“Oh! Is my wand ready?”
“Yes but it’s not fer that.” He hauled you by the elbow, a sense of urgency in his steps. “W-what’s going on?!?”
You both crashed through the threshold to find Gerrick trying his best to calm down a patron who stood menacingly in the middle of the shop. He growled at the old man before, hand on the sword at his side and in the other a wand. He floated a familiar looking object in the air, just out of reach from the wandmaker’s grasp.
Your eyes widened at the sight. Your chest tightened.
“Sir! This is the year 19-”
“Where is she?!”
“If you will allow me to help you, she should be-.”
“Pero?” Your voice was small, coming from the space behind him. Whipping around, his scowl softened at the sight of you. The book clattered to the floor as you approached, your face confused and disbelieving at the man in front of you, however the other two in the room also saw him.
“Ah, there! There she is!” Garrick gestured towards you before his attention darted back to the floating sphere which Pero promptly forgot about, sending it plummeting into Garrick’s arms.
“Oh! I’ll be takin’ that back to the forest!” The gamekeeper skirted around you and Pero, careful not to cut through the space that seemed to extend the reaches of time between you.
“Mi bruja. Mi alma.”
At his words, you closed the distance wrapping your arms around him and burying your hand into the nook between his head and shoulders. He smelled of leather and of earth, the sweet spice of his skin, and the soap he had stolen from you.
He ran his hands over you, checking if you were truly standing before him, arms wrapped around him tightly. You smelled of books and parchment, the sweetness he yearned to suck from your skin, and of his home. You had bewitched him and lived centuries away, returned from his dreams once more, for good.
“How??”
You pulled away enough to look into his face, your expression filled with wonder.
“Gerbold. I returned to him at the wandshop.” Pero explained that the old shopkeeper had sensed something in him and while there were no official records present in England, back home in Spain there were a few accounts of the Tovar lineage and his descendants from wizards.
Your eyes widened once more at the revelation. Your lips curling as you smiled at the moments you could quickly recall where while magic was new to him, he seemed to absorb and understand quite quickly.
“Ah yes, that is outlined in this letter.” Garrick held up the letter that had fallen from the painting yesterday. Inside Gerbold had outlined everything he would need to know and not fear from Pero as well as noting Pero’s proclivity to use his wand though still working on his wand work.
“Sir, may I see your wand?”
Pero growled, eyes still fixed on you but he relented, reluctantly loosening his hold to hand his wand to Gerrick who immediately grew fascinated with the wand, holding it with great ease and reverence at the work of his ancestor.
“I see, I see. Ash with quite a rare core! Tao-Tei horn.” The wand was sleek with sprigs of wheat carved into the handle. He ran a gnarled thumb over the carvings, this sapphire eyes watering in admiration before he handed the wand back to Tovar. “In very capable and skilled hands.” He nodded approvingly before turning to the half-giant. “Do you fancy a pint at this hour? I think these two need a moment alone.”
“The centaurs can wait.” The two snuck past again, and padded out of the shop.
“The sphere…”
“Aphron was kind enough to allow me to use it, it holds the same magic as your hourglass.”
You gasped in amazement. You thought to tell Saul before remembering this magic did not belong to your kind and would have to stay buried in the forest with the centaurs where it belonged.
“You think so loudly, mi bruja.” Pero pulled your attention back to him, his dark eyes flicking around your face as if to memorize the vision before him should you again fade away into the air beside him.
“Sorry.”
He growled at the look that quickly took over your face. Concern and perhaps sadness.
“When do you need to return?”
“Return?”
“Y-yes.”
He shook his head, “Do you not want me?” The last of his hold slackening and falling from your body as he stepped away, the scowl on his face deepening. Brow somehow growing more furrowed.
“No! You can… you can stay?”
“Si, why wouldn’t I stay? I’m here for you. Will you not have me?”
You needed to be closer, the space between you uncomfortable and unwanted. Stepping forward, you reached for him. Threading your hands into his hair, the softness of it familiar. “You traveled through time for me.”
His thick hands once again found their rightful place on your middle, fitting neatly over your form as he closed any remaining space. His voice was low and gravely, laced with something delicious. “For you, mi alma.”
At his words your lips connected, crashing in a frenzy and speaking the words you couldn’t share in this moment, that would have to wait to be spoken but could be felt as you pulled his lips between yours. Before either one of you could deepen the kiss, you pulled away and muttered against his lips.
“I have a home.”
“Where?”
“A few hours from here.”
“Mi alma, I wait-”
“But I also have a room at the inn.” At that he pulled away, grunting to you to lead the way. If it were up to him, he would have you here in this wandshop, but the poor wandsmith would surely perish should he walk into such a sight.
You pulled him through the street and into the tavern, passing Gerrick and your colleague as you both practically sprinted up the stairs. The men clinked tankards before returning to their lively conversation, the sphere now dormant on the tabletop between them.
Pero crowded you, pushing against you as you fumbled to open the door. Once inside he latched his lips to yours once more. The softness of them pulling a whimper from your lips. The shape of them familiar and igniting the fire that grew deep in your belly.
He mumbled sweet words of adoration against your skin, pawing at your clothes until you were both relieved of the oppressive layers and pressed into the lumpy mattress. Your thighs parting for him, fitting around his hips perfectly as he laved at your skin, the stubble on his jaw rubbing deliciously. You’d feel the burn of it later, along with the ache in your core that you welcomed.
“Mine,” he whispered as if a prayer against your skin, claiming you as his as you arched into his touch, breath hitching as his clever fingers danced over your skin, eventually mapping the softness of your breasts, palming them to hold their full weight as his lips desperately followed, greedily wrapping around the hardened peaks.
He groaned into the plushness of you, grinding his hips against your slick folds, thighs falling wider for him, allowing the full weight of him to press you deeper into the bed. He needed you, had missed you in the time you were not together. He had thought you lost, the distance of time that he would journey for you if simply he knew how.
He caged you in, mapping your body and reacquainting himself with the heavens of you that he once worshiped and prayed for.
Mewling at his ministrations, your hips worked to run your cunt over the length of him, covering him in you.
“Pero,” you whimpered, fingers threading into his hair, pulling him closer as he continued to bestow the firmest of bites before laving his tongue over your pebbled nipple. His calloused hand wrapped over the other, fingers digging into your skin as his free hand held onto you, keeping you close.
You were growing desperate for more of him as he seemed almost content to rut against you and suck at your chest but you needed more, you wanted more of him.
Releasing his hair, you brought your hands to his strong shoulders and pressed, pushing him off of you and onto the space next to you where he began to protest until you palmed his hardened cock, blushed and rigid in your hand, and swung a leg over his hips. You lined yourself over him and sunk down slowly. His thickness stretching you open and filling you perfectly.
His dark eyes were inky with lust if not with an almost inebriated expression that you had seen under the influence of the waggish pollen. But now he was not under the sway of anything other than you.
Again his hands found their home on your body, digging into the plush of your hips as you continued to sink down until you sat snug, a shudder coursing through your limbs and a moan escaping his lips. Visions of you riding expertly filled his mind, his cock twitching inside of you as you began to roll your hips and his lips parted to release a lewd groan.
His hands guided you, assisting you in grinding down on length, your swollen clit dragging along the curled hairs at the base of his cock as your walls pulled him in deeper, squeezing and fluttering around him.
“Come for me, mi alma,” he pleaded with you, holding on by a thread as he moved a hand to press into your lower belly and his thick thumb slipped between your slickened cleft to stoke at your bundle of nerves.
The room filled with the wet sounds of your gyrations, of the slip of his cock filling you repeatedly, and of your moans and mewls until the knot that had been building and pulling taught inside of you snapped and a rushing roar filled your ears and your breath caught in your chest.
Mouth dropped open and limbs shaking, your finders dig until his skin and you collapsed onto him. Strong arms wrapped around your middle, pulling you flush to his heated and sweaty skin as his hips rose and fell beneath you, his voice gruff and ragged in your ears as he continued to fuck you through your release, reaching the edge of his own.
You felt hot and wet for him, tight and pliant just for him as your walls fluttered and squeezed around his length. He felt your lips find his skin once more as you sucked greedily at his neck, trailing a path to the bit of sensitive flesh that reminded him that he would always be yours.
Teeth taking over the patch of skin, your hips found their rhythm once more, now slamming down to meet his. Eyes falling shut, pinching tight, he felt himself behind to pulse and pull, shattering beneath you and filling you. He was hot and thick, seeping into the deepest parts that no one else ever could or would. Fully covered in you, buried deep his faltering hips still under you and his heart raced in his chest.
“Maybe we should be separated by time more often, mi bruja.”
He sighed, hand freeing from your body to gently cup your neck and tilt your lips up to meet his. “Never, my love.” You mumbled into his lips, a contented sigh mingling between you as you poured yourself into a kiss.
*
Pero’s horse had also made the journey, the steed nonplussed at the idea of traveling through time which fascinated both you and Saul.
“He’s quite content here and frankly, unphased by the pull of temporal space.” Saul muttered, hand running over the horse's coat as it chomped away at meal in the coziness of the school stables. The headmaster had agreed to house him on school grounds where soon he followed the gamekeeper and his dog around less Pero was around.
Pero set in well in your home where you tutored him in magic, which he excelled at especially when he learned how to disrobe you with a flick of his wrist, vanishing them as you sat perched in his lap.
Saul did not question Pero’s sudden appearance, instead insisting on having him over for dinner to hear first hand stories about his journeys which he found fascinating.
“The history books have done you a disservice, Pero.” Saul nodded, tutting and standing. He pulled at his son’s school bags and pulled the latest edition of the history book you once held but had long forgotten. Thumbing through the pages, he found Pero’s entry and slid it towards you both.
The entry remained the same save for a few extra words from William.
“Pero may have been a scoundrel to many but our time together was one of adventure, change, and brotherhood. May the winds of time never forget for I surely shall not.”
If you had asked Pero if he was crying, he would have certainly denied it. Even with his voice thick and frayed at the edges.
“I visited him before I left, told him about you. He-he pushed me, called me an ignorant fool for not following you.”
He offered you a wry smile before kissing your temple and threading his hand into yours.
Although history had Pero Tovar lost in time, you had him with you where he belonged.
*
Decades later Pero’s portrait finally filled, a copy hung in the wand shop which now had a new owner with the same shocking blue eyes and warm smile. Next to it hung yours, where you tended to your plants and at night welcomed him in for a good night’s rest.
Pero Tovar x Magical Professor!Reader
Great Wall & Harry Potter Magical AU crossover
Part 4 | Part 6 | Masterlist
Summary: Sent back in time to retrieve a rare and extinct plant and through an unfortunate series of events, you find yourself with a reluctant warrior, Pero Tovar.
Warnings: Wizarding World references, Pero is Pero, Mild Angst, Two idiots in love, Bodily functions
Wordcount: 3.5k
Notes: Second to last chapter!
This fic is super unexpected but here we are. The Wizarding World is near and dear to my heart and has been my entire life, however I do not support JKR and I actively try to not give her money. However, I am basing this on some of her ideas for my own fanfic. If you dislike HP and JRK, please do not read. Do not expose yourself to anything you are uncomfortable with. While I try to stay away from specific BIG names, there are some involved that are alluded to more than anything but reader is a grown adult professor in the mid 1980′s.
He wanted to focus on the wonder on your face. The way your eyes widened in crinkled in the corners, your lips pulled into a hopeful smile as you held his hand in yours. The lot of you padded through the grounds towards the edge of the woods, the two wizard women carried chunks of meat in their hands.
The air was cool and damp around them, growing mustier and metallic causing the hairs on his neck standing on edge. “Mi bruja,” he whispered rather loudly. “What is this invisible flying horse?”
As soon as you turned to face him, your smile fell at the look of concern that colored his chocolate eyes. They held a bit of a pleading look, urgent and unsure. You squeezed his hand and pulled yourself into his side.
“Oh! Yes! They are very mild mannered creatures with the ability to fly. Without trains, the quickest way to get there is flying and there is no time for a broom lesson…”
“Train?”
You shook your head, a small laugh escaping your lips before you schooled yourself. He was more on edge. “Thestrals,” there was no time to explain trains to him either. “Thestrals, they have a rather dubious and undeserved reputation of being omens of misfortune and aggression because they are visible to certain people…”
He narrowed his eyes, trying to decipher what your words meant. Reluctantly, he tore his eyes away and faced the forest once again, watching as the women threw meat at the foggy treeline. His eyes grew wide as they emerged from the shadows. Gaunt, yet elegant, they indeed had the body of a horse, however the heads were more angular with two horns atop their crown. Pero’s eyes grew wide as he waited for them to step into the light, but once they did their skin did not lighten or glimmer, instead it remained darker than night and clung tight to their bones. Their wings were tucked tight against their sides as theirs beaked heads dipped to the ground, plucking meat from the ground and quickly swallowing.
Pero cried out in alarm, pulling you behind him and reaching for his sword. “No no, Pero.” You laid your hand over his, lowering his sword. Your guides unphased by Pero’s alarm. “Demonios!” he exclaimed but allowed you to lower his sword.
At his cry, the thestrals unfurled their wings, puffing air from their noises in annoyance. Their white eyes trained on your warrior, waiting for another assault that never came. Dipping their heads once more, they continued to eat, wings easing back into place.
“You can see them?” You studied him carefully, brows arched in question.
“The black demons in front of us? Yes!” he snorted at you, reluctantly sheathing his weapon.
“They aren’t demons, Sir Tovar-”
“I am no sir, senora.” He interrupted her. His voice surprisingly gentle.
“Tovar, they are creatures. Magical creatures.” The smaller woman with pinked cheeks and a kinder smile continued, emphasizing the word magical and catching your attention. The taller darker haired woman seemed more relaxed and nodded with approval before she beckoned you both forward.
“They will take you to the wandsmith who should be able to assist.” She held out a piece of parchment, the school's seal on the seams. “Give him this, so he will have no doubt about you or your companion.”
A boney muzzle bumped your shoulder and Pero’s hand tightened around yours. Scooping up a piece of meat, you held it out with a flat palm and the begging thestral plucked it gently from your hand with a happily swishing bony tail.
You nodded at Pero to do the same and with some hesitation, he offered a piece to the second thestral who just as gently took it from him and stepped closer, inspecting him for more. “Ya ya,” he huffed, reaching to pet the leathery creature who allowed the moment of affection before moving away in search of more food.
The women gave you coordinates and assisted you in saddling the thestrals. A few moments later you were both up in the air, Pero clinging to his skeletal steed, pinching his eyes shut and muttering a string of curses. The only noise around him was the air rushing past his ears and the sounds of their thick leathery wings cutting through the air around them.
He cautioned a glance to the side on which you rode, holding on to your own thestral. You rode well, moving with the ebony creature, pressed to crest with a serene look on your face. You loved to fly. Following your lead, he pressed himself to the creature, feeling its lean muscles move with each stride it took, floating higher and higher until it caught the wind.
You smiled at him, watching him relax a bit not fully but a bit as you quickly approached London. He would never say that he enjoyed this flying business but he was glad to cut down what would have been quite a long journey.
He frowned at the idea of not spending more time with you, not quite ready to let you go now that he’d found someone who made him want to be better. Not just for the history books you had told him about.
His stomach dropped, not only at the idea that you were closer to leaving but also at the animal's sudden descent towards the ground which quickly grew larger and clearer before his eyes. He yelled as the animal straightened and soared on the wind until it’s hooves touched the earth. Sliding off the saddle, he stumbled a few paces before doubling over and emptying his contents of the several helpings of stew he had shoveled into his mouth.
“It gets easier!” your voice sang out in amusement as you trotted past, patting the house before you hopped down and thanked the creature with a few more bits of meat. You padded over to his heaving back, patting and soothing him. “Just let it all out.” Pulling your wand from your robe, because it certainly would have flown off had you kept it in its usual place behind your ear, you quickly summoned pieces of candied ginger and peppermint leaves.
He stood, whipping his sleeve across his mouth and cursed at you and the thestral happily chomping away at the last bits of their treats. With an apologetic look, you shoved the ginger and peppermint into his mouth and handed him a canteen full of water. “You’ll feel better.”
Not far from where you had landed stood a row of buildings, none looking too familiar. Recounting the directions given, you spotted a narrow alleyway. “There!” Your voice hopeful that the alley would take you to where you were headed.
He chewed at the herbs you shoved into his mouth, his stomach settling as he slowly rose to his full height. He followed your gaze through central London, between buildings made of stone and wood, adorned with tall narrow windows. They looked rather mundane and ordinary to him.
He squinted, coughing at the last bits of his sickness and taking a swig of water before spitting it out. He felt much better, the nausea of flying gone and his mouth surprisingly refreshed. “What magical potion did you give me?”
“Huh?” Turning to him you noticed his coloring returning, the sickly look that colored his eyes fading as he righted himself and took a few tentative steps, knees still a bit weak. You smiled warmly, glad he was no longer retching even if he was walking like a newborn granian. “That wasn’t a potion. Ginger and mint to settle your stomach and help your breath,” you teased before turning back to the city.
He quickly cupped his hand over his mouth and puffed a few minty breaths into his hand. It was fresh, much like the paste he would use to scrub his own teeth when the luxury was available to him after a notable time of travel. He always enjoyed the feeling of the smooth surface of his teeth and the lingering herbal flavor of the cleaning paste.
“Thank you,” he muttered. He frowned at the city, unseeing of whatever pleased your eyes, gave you hope to return home. Narrowing his eyes, he scanned the buildings again until he spotted it. A slightly odd looking building, curious and tottering as it sat almost out of sight from the people who walked the thoroughfare.
“Oh! Of course, you can’t see it. Um, it’s the-”
“The curious looking one with gold trimming.” He pointed a thick finger directly at it and nodded. His bowed lips pursed as a slender man with rather bright robes weaving his way around people and puddles of muck. A few spared him a few glances, scowls at his odd vestments. He paused, cautiously taking a look around him before stepping into the peculiar shop. “It is as if no one sees-”
He dropped his hand, brow furrowed in concern at the wide-eyed look on your face. He could see the building, he had noticed the wizard walking down the street. He-He… *POP*
A strange man apparated next to you, eyes a wild blue matching his wiry gray hair. He wore brown and maroon robes, an ascot tucked under his chin. His head swiveled between you and Pero. “Ahhhh, just in time.” You looked at him questioningly, your hand placed on Pero’s forearm, his hand wrapped tight around his dagger.
“An owl just arrived with a note announcing your imminent visit and I saw your Thestrals from my window.” He shuddered at the name of them, noticing his closeness to the creatures that had settled into the shadows. “Care to come in?” He reached out and touched you on your shoulder pulling the both of you with him. The air around Pero constricted and spun, his belly tickled and churned as colors swirled and distorted. His lips parted into a silent scream, a startled cry that hung heavy on his tongue as his feet no longer felt the ground beneath him. As quickly as he felt the world strain and swell, his feet landed on firm wood and the smell of dust and parchment filled his nose. Once again, he retched. The never ending stew perhaps refilling in his belly for a never ending supply of-
“Care for some tea, young sir?”
“He would love some, thank you.”
Your hand fell soothingly at his back, rubbing as your free hand held your wand and vanished the mess he was leaving on the uneven floorboards. “Deep breath in, Pero. Now breath out.” You cooed over him until he caught his breath, curses flowing like poetry undisturbed and uninterrupted.
“I did not like that.”
“I see that, my dear boy. Was it your first time?” The old man held a mug of tea out for Pero, his wild eyes laced with kindness and amusement. “You should have been well versed by this age.” Pero took the tea and allowed you to lead him to an overstuffed chair with a high back where he could see the room clearly, the air around him now in focus and unmoving.
He sat in the shop, narrow and cozy. On the walls parcels laid stacked precariously from floor to ceiling on uneven shelves, some on the window sills, and the rest on almost any available surface. The tea instantly soothed his belly, warming his throat and dispelling the acrid taste that coated his tongue. He hummed in approval as a similar feeling washed through his as with your ginger but stronger.
“Feeling better?” The man wiggled his eyebrows at Pero before turning to you. “A bit of ginger and chamomile with a few drops of Wiggenweld. Topped with a healthy bit of mead.” You hummed in approval, the warm liquid relaxing your limbs as you stood and scanned the room. It was smaller than what existed in your time, but the feeling was the same and the wandmaker was curiously similar.
“Pardon our intrusion, sir-”
“Gerbold. Please, call me Gerbold.”
You smiled widely at the name, recognizing it from conversation with his great-grandson who entertained you with stories of how wood and core worked together in perfect symphony to aid with magic and purpose of its possessor. You quickly introduced yourself and Pero, you nodded from his seat.
“Gerbold, I was told to give you this.” You fetched the letter you were tasked to present to him. He broke the school seal, crystalline eyes scanning the inked words as he hummed with interest. He narrowed his eyes at Pero before focusing on you and requesting the broken hourglass. Carefully he removed it from the small pouch and tipped it on the cleared counter. The familiar chimes of glass breaking and sand spilling filled the air. Gerbold leaned close, careful to not disturb the time turner as it shattered and reformed before him. “Curious.” The letter contained all the words needed for him to not question your validity or reason, understanding the gravity of your situation and how it was imperative that you return home.
“D-Do you think you can help me?”
“My dear, this is magic that is quite sophisticated but, I do think I am able to mend this glass for you.” He looked rather pleased, optimistic that he would be able to re-contain the magic for you. “It won’t be simple or quick, I’m afraid. But time may be on our side. Please make yourselves comfortable. There is a small tavern and in where our kind,” his eyes darted over to Pero who sat contently with a scowl on his face, “and muggles alike frequent, they have a large cauldron that is quite a sight to see!”
“What does it do?” You looked at him with interest.
“Nothing, it is merely a large cauldron. Big enough to hold half a dozen men!” With that he turned away, hemming and hawing at the task before him.
*
“It is large.” Pero whistled next to you as you stood in the tavern, dark and dingy but filled with tables and booths where you could wait for Gerbold to finish. Snickering you tugged on his elbow, sliding into a small booth where you could pull your notes out for a moment. Around you the patrons were muggle and wizarding, the muggles paying no mind over the magical folk. You were unsure if they cared or simply did not notice as no one seemed to hide their magic. A man directed a spoon to feed him as he animatedly recalled a story of a muscular whitehaired warlock and a bog creature. The spoon dodging and weaving his gesticulating arms as it searched for a clear path into his mouth where it deposited spoonful after spoonful of soup.
At the other end a woman knitted with a pair of needles that wove on their own, an elegant shawl draped midair as she wrangled a pair of ginger haired boys. One turned towards you, the freckles and nose familiar. However he did not return your warm smile, instead sticking his tongue out at you and earning a firm pull on his ear from his mother.
You pulled out your notes, whispering at your enchanted quill as Pero sat near. He seemed no longer phased by the magic around him, instead his attention directed to you. He relaxed a bit then your hand settled on his thigh under the table top, offering him a squeeze as you dictated the days happenings to the quill.
“Are you hungry?” You asked between notes. He shook his head almost violently, knowing he would need to fly back to the forest once your hourglass was fixed. “No, no. I think that stew is still reappearing.” He patted his belly which gurgled in return.
**
A few hours later, you continued to occupy the booth, pressed close to Pero who entertained you with his own stories of how he got his scars. Some not so funny but others drawing a stitch to your side. Your quill now resting in your pack, notes compiled and stored away.
“Tell me about your time or tell me what happens to me after this,” He sipped at his mead. Eyes dark and curious. You leaned in close, knowingly breaking all the unwritten laws of time travel, but when you opened your mouth nothing came out. You summoned a book from your pack, searching for the battle of the Great Wall.
“William the Brave,” he blew a raspberry at the moniker, “ returned to China after a few years. Saddened and distraught at the sudden… the sudden disappearance…” you closed the book and tucked it away. “Like I said, there is nothing more of note on you in the books. Almost as if you vanished.”
His scowl grew deeper at your words. His mood souring at being remembered as a coward. “Maybe you retire to a more quiet and sensible life? Settle down and s-start a family.” Your heart clenched at the thought, hurting a bit at the idea of never seeing him again. As soon as the time turner was set, you would turn it a few times in hopes of arriving right on schedule, back home.
He would continue to live his life, perhaps finding another bed to warm and someone else to darken his eyes and caress the little spaces of skin that never filled in with beard. But you forced a smile that he returned, even if his eyes held a tinge of sadness at your leaving. He’d help you until the moments where your skin slipped from his and you no longer stood before him. He’d help you save lives even if history would never know, you would know and that was all that mattered to him now.
But you would move forward, perhaps find a love to settle down with. Someone else to hold you after a long day of teaching. They would make sure your teacup was full as you padded around tending to your plants and yelling at your possessed quill. At night they would taste the sweetness of your skin and pull the moans he had committed to memory and prayed to whoever listened would stay with him until the day he breathed his last breath.
His gaze fell to your lips, a quick flick of his tongue breaking the seam as he leaned in and grazed his nose against you. Your eyes flutter shut, awaiting the press of his lips over yours but they never came, instead a familiar voice filled the space between you.
Gerbold held your pouch out triumphantly. “It is done! Well, not completely but it is done.”
Pulling away from Pero, you cleared your throat, “what do you mean?” You eyed the pouch which he deposited into your hand, the contents now silent. The old man shimmied into the booth, hands splayed on the tabletop.
“The magic inside of that hourglass is old, much older than the one used to contain it. Which works similar to my wands. Separate this is merely glass and sand, but in that sand is the same magic that sets the sun and fills the moon. The stars above shine with it.” He pointed up.
Pero flashed you a look of confusion, concern on his face of what the man could possibly mean. “Speak plainly, viejito,” he grumbled next to you. While he did not mind the extended time he shared with you, he was growing weary of the continued quest.
“Do not worry, my dear boy. Time is on your side.” Gerbold teased before he continued. “Humans do not naturally possess this magic, but the forest you need to return to does. There is a colony of centaurs who may be able to assist you. Their magic connects to the heavens in a way magical folk can only dream of. Some call it primitive, fools, but it is old and strong.”
“We are familiar with the centaurs,” Pero spoke again even if he was not terribly sure of what the old man meant. He knew he would accompany you back to the forest and speak with the centaurs once again.
“Let us apparate to your Thestrals-”
“No!” Pero yelled, while he wasn’t sure what the word meant he understood from the old man’s movements towards you. His hands outstretched as if to hold on to you both.
You squeezed Pero’s thigh and thanked Gerbold for the offer but you would walk to the Thestrals as it was a beautiful evening for a stroll. Agreeing, the old man turned to Pero and extended his hand.
“My shop will always welcome you, Pero. In fact, please come visit when this adventure has concluded.”
With that he offered you a nod, turned, and walked out of the tavern. You looked over at Pero. “Well mi bruja, shall we return to the cursed forest?”
You nodded with a solemn look in your eye, not bothering to correct him.
“Let’s.”
Thank you for reading!
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Pero Tovar x Magical Professor!Reader
Great Wall & Harry Potter Magical AU crossover
Part 3 | Part 5 | Masterlist
Summary: Sent back in time to retrieve a rare and extinct plant and through an unfortunate series of events, you find yourself with a reluctant warrior, Pero Tovar.
Warnings: Wizarding World references, Pero is Pero, Angst, Fluff, Two idiots in love, A hint of spice
Wordcount: 3.4k+
Notes: This fic is getting longer but we are close to the end. Two chapters after this! Thank you for the support and enjoyment of this fic.
This fic is super unexpected but here we are. The Wizarding World is near and dear to my heart and has been my entire life, however I do not support JKR and I actively try to not give her money. However, I am basing this on some of her ideas for my own fanfic. If you dislike HP and JRK, please do not read. Do not expose yourself to anything you are uncomfortable with. While I try to stay away from specific BIG names, there are some involved that are alluded to more than anything but reader is a grown adult professor in the mid 1980′s.
Washed and fed, your feet crunched on along the forest floor, an awkward silence in the air. You still felt him on you, in you. He’d seeped into your skin and burrowed into your warm marrow in the haze of an influencing pollen. The rare and precious plant you needed to bring back home with you. A life altering plant in more than one way.
Home. You huffed at yourself, pulling the warrior’s attention at your side but he didn’t dare speak. When he awoke you were once again not in your bed, next to him. Instead he awoke to his trusted horse looking slightly judgmental if not a little too knowing and perhaps smug at Pero’s tousled hair and skin mapped by your lips, leaving a purple and burgundy trail of your explorations.
He was a fool to think you would have ever truly wanted him in your bed, tasting your skin, and quelling the fire that burned within you because of that blasted flower. Once the effects had worn off you needed to rid yourself of him, get as much distance and space from him. At these thoughts, his heart sank before he hardened himself once again, stepping out of bed and offering a pat to his horse who now stood chewing fresh food.
You’d left a hot bath in the basin he’d used previously but when he called out to thank you, you were nowhere to be found until he emerged, washed clean and clothed. “Eat,” you sat at the small table with that map of yours and your necklace set next to it. The hourglass that hung from it breaking and reforming over and over again.
“We need to head back to the castle.” You avoided his eyes, staring down at the map and wand tucked behind your ear as you sipped your tea. Grunting, he shoved the food into his mouth and traced a trail through the forest to where the invisible castle was marked. “But that little wrinkled rat creature told you no one was home.”
“That was an elf and yes, but by now holiday should be almost over and someone should be there… I- I hope.”
“So you can leave m- leave and go back home.”
Shrugging, you avoided his eyes once again and noisily sipped your tea. He wanted to be rid of you, he told you so before you had fallen asleep. The demon he needed to cast out but you didn’t need to completely agree with him.
Now, hours later, you walked in silence. The two of you contemplating the evening’s occurrences as you traversed the Forbidden Forest in hopes of someone- anyone who was able to help you.
Chewing your lip, you kept silent, afraid to break the silence and drive him away sooner. When nightfall soon crept into the sky, he grumbled at your side about setting up camp and helped you with your pack, his fingertips rubbing at your shoulders for a fleeting moment before you pulled the wand from behind your ear and summoned the enchanted refuge.
You moved in silence, giving each other just enough space but keeping close even as you cooked and ate; soon retired to your separate beds where you burrowed into the pillow that still smelled of him. The musk of the gruff man who smelled of leather, black pepper, and horse.
He laid listening to your breathing, only falling into a light sleep once he was certain you were dreaming.
The next morning, the not so gentle pitter patter of a torrential downpour pounded against the roof of your tent. Against his insistence, you remained in camp and somehow found the use of your words that had eluded you the prior day.
“It’s just water, mi bruja.”
“Perhaps in your muggle world rain is a slight inconvenience and a nuisance, however according to my notes from a man much more knowledgeable than you, this area of the forest is crawling with creatures that would love nothing more than two warm bodies to consume and warm themselves with.”
“Fine, we will listen to your knowledgeable amante. So you can return to him unharmed and dry.”
“Lover?” Your face screwed up in confusion.
Huffing he turned to his horse, producing a brush from his satchel and focusing his efforts on brushing his steed and muttering to himself.
“However,” you continued after a lack of acknowledgement, “there is a rather delicious mushroom that spores at the slightest shift into heavy precipitation in this area as well. Aside from being delicious, it has rather common medicinal purposes but also makes for a lovely pie and lip slave so I’m going to go collect some.”
You needed space, the not so small tent felt confining and suffocating with the man you had laid under not a day prior now grumbling to himself and his horse who now winced at each drag of the soft bristled brush. His tail flicked not so gently at Pero, swatting at his arm, as he continued to brush but had stopped mumbling to listen to your babble.
Before he could dissuade you from leaving, you had vanished with a pop. “Could not wait to get away from me, hmmm.” He turned to his horse, who puffed a breath of hot air in his face before turning back to the bucket of cut apples and carrots you had left him, his tail finally slapping Pero across the face. “Ya ya. Lo siento.”
As the rain soaked through your cloak and robes, you mulled it over once more and carefully stepped a few paces away from the tent and over the knotted roots of the forest ground. Your eyes trained on the dirt at the base of the trees, looking for anything really.
When you first met him, you were determined to rid him from your side. He was rude and curt, ignorant to your world and frankly something else to worry about. But he was also charming in his desire to learn and how protective he was of you. Perhaps it was to redeem himself in the pages of history, but you’d never tell anyone in time, at least not in his time.
You traced your lips, the ghost of his touch still haunting and inhabiting your skin. Even through the haze, his touch was welcomed and now you wouldn’t mind a bit more of it. No influence or need for survival needed.
Shaking your head, you continued through the rain. The water working its way onto your hot skin, cooling you off and clearing your head. You would need to find someone at the castle.
When you returned the tent smelled rich and delicious with Pero stirring a pot over the pot bellied stove. He was lost in his thoughts, in the short time he’d been with you on your quest he had grown accustomed to your spells to ward off intruders and warn should anyone aside from the two of you enter the tent.
When you set your bag down, he spun on the spot, wooden spoon held defensively in his hands. However, instead of a nefarious foe he found you, a bundle of mushrooms in hand and your body trembling from the cold rain.
He swore under his breath, “I almost cut you down!”
“T-Th-That s-s-spoon looks mighty d-d-dull.” Water crept down your neck and your teeth chattered as you spoke.
“Even soaked to the bone you make jokes.” He tutted at you, reaching for the mushrooms clenched in your fist. Once he had pried them from your fingers, he spoke firmly with a tinge of anger.
“Mi bruja, will you allow me?” His fingers tugged at your wet robes and you nodded, eyes trained on his as he quickly disrobed you, ran to the bed to pull a blanket, and wrapped it around you. Even through his annoyance, he was careful and gentle. “So you would rather catch a cold and freeze than be near me?”
He pulled the basin over and pulled the wand from behind your ear. Held between his teeth, he poured water into the tub before holding the wand once more and saying, “hot.” You watched him curiously as he swung your wand in the air, cursing and causing little sparks to shoot from the end. Not wanting him to lose an eye or set your tent on fire, you shuffled over to him.
“Here.”
You snaked a trembling hand out of your blanket and wrapped it around his, leaning against his, you moved your hands elegantly and whispered the incantation into his ear. Your breath warm against the delicate skin of his neck, your lips trembling against his ear. “Say it with me.”
He turned his head to watch you, eyes searching your face before he turned back towards the tub and you moved together, speaking the words in unison. Almost instantly the tub began to steam, the water warming up. When he was satisfied with the temperature, he pulled you along and helped you into the tub, careful not to wet the blanket in the process.
With firm yet surprisingly gentle hands, he massaged at your limbs until your teeth stopped chattering and your limbs softened. Satisfied, he kissed the crown of your head and walked over to pick up the discarded robes and set them to dry near the fire.
“I don’t… I wasn’t…” Your voice was small as you slid further into the bath, eyes peeking over the rim as you watched him set your clothes to dry and return to cooking. He didn’t turn around, but he paused his movements. “It’s because I want to be near you that I needed to take a walk.”
“In the perilous rain?”
“In the perilous rain.”
“And what did you decide on this walk?”
Before you could answer, the stew began to bubble over and he cursed once again, stirring. “I think the mushrooms would be a good addition to your stew. It smells delicious, by the way.”
“Would you care to show me how I should add them in? I do not think I can handle another night of my loins blazing with a fire that is sure to be the death of me less I find myself buried in your trembling body.”
Your eyes widened at the comment, pulling a small gasp from your lips and sending a little lick of warmth through your core. Had he not chuckled before clarifying that he wanted to know what he should avoid or what parts you wanted to save, you would have found a way to sleep inside your enchanted bag to hide from the embarrassment that threatened to flow through you.
When you were sufficiently warmed, you stepped from the basin and summoned clothing that floated into your outstretched hand. Warm and bundled, you padded over to Pero and readied the mushrooms.
You showed him how to sauté them in butter before dropping them into the stew. He warmed some bread as well. He naturally fit into your tent, flitting about and gesturing at you to sit while he filled bowls and handed you a cup filled with tea. “Drink.”
“I need to make sure you are warm inside too. Drink.”
Not needing to be told a third time, you sipped the soup, humming when it warmed your belly.
When he was satisfied with his stew, he set the bowl and bread in front of you but sat next to you instead of across, his side pressed to yours as you both ate. You noticed he slowed his eating as you hummed again at the deliciousness of the food he had prepared for you.
“You clearly label your spices, thank you.”
He had found your system of labeling spices and potion ingredients fascinating. Glad that he had learned to read and was able to clearly figure out what was for cooking. He’d spent the afternoon opening up spices and smelling them until he figured out what would work best in the stew with most of the selection reminding him of home.
“You know how to read?” You smiled at him, knowing full well that in this time literacy wasn’t prevalent. He shifts a bit, sitting proudly with a quick nod and a quirk of his lips. “Not a lot, but I made do.”
The rain continued outside while you finished your meal. Pero’s horse was now comfortable in his portion of the tent and you were searching your books for any information on repairing your time tuner.
Pero sat dutifully by your side, watching you scan the pages for a while before he cleared his throat.
“Bruja,” his voice was casual. “Earlier, you mentioned the need to go for a walk because you want to be with me.”
You marked your spot, closed your book, and shifted to face him. You worried your lip for a moment and averted your eyes, almost as if the words you struggled to find were printed on the rafters of the tent. He lent into your space, “tell me why?”
Now you felt yourself fluster, heart beating just a little faster while the words eluded you. “Is there something in your enchanted bag that will loosen your tongue, not in the same way your carnal flower would.”
At that you gasped, finally meeting his eyes with a scowl that soon turned into a smile of embarrassment. You were stuck in a tent with him until the rain let up and the danger of carnivorous slugs had passed. “Fine, Pero.”
“I… I find myself enjoying your company and that flower perhaps accelerated anything that might have potentially happened between us but I do not regret it. I do not regret meeting you.”
His eyes softened as he listened, traveling from your eyes to your lips and watching every quirk you made. He mirrored your movements when you ran your tongue over your lips nervously, the pink of his drawing your attention. When you’d ran out of words, he shifted closer.
“I too regret nothing. I enjoy watching you navigate this cursed forest-”
“It’s forbidden not cursed,” you whispered. His nose now nudging yours, trailing over your lips, and to your chin before coming back up.
“Forbidden forest with your wand. I’m glad you fell out of the sky. Mi ángel. You can be insufferable, but an insufferable moment with you is better than no moments at all.” With that he pressed his lips to you, cupping your cheek he pulled you closer.
“Your fingers reached for his tunic and your fingers tangled into his hair as he kissed you breathless. His tongue soon sliding against yours as he pressed you into the comfortable couch, knocking your books to the floor. “You could always stay.”
You pulled away, eyes opened wide. “I can’t stay. I need to go back home. People are waiting for me.
He sat up, running his thick fingers through his hair. “Yes, your amante cartographer.”
At his accusation, you couldn’t help but laugh. A full bellied laugh at how quickly his mood had shifted in a blink of an eye. He backed away, standing up to get away from you but you reached for him, wrapping your hand around his wrist and pulled him back to you. “What did I say that was so funny? The idea of being with me?”
His words sobered you, halting your laughs as you pulled close. “Pero, no no. He’s not my lover. He’s my colleague. A friend. Nothing more. As for being with you, I would like to see where this could go, but I made a promise. People are counting on me to return. I have to.”
Your eyes held no lies that he could see. In fact they now held a tinge of sadness as you cradled his face, fingertips soothing the heat in his cheeks and tracing the scar over his left eye. “Pero, say something.”
“I- I understand, mi bruja.” He surged forward, capturing your lips one more. Savoring the moments he had with you before you would have to leave this time back to where you belonged and he would once again find himself alone and wandering the earth.
**
The next morning you awoke to no rain and once you had checked the forest floor for slugs you continued on your way. Pero and his horse walked beside you, telling you of his travels on the silk road, which you had read about finding it fascinating. You in turn offered him tips on how to spot magical folk and what you remembered from Magical History.
Soon the forest grew thin, the edge of it visible once more as you neared the cliffs where the school sat. Your heart leapt in your chest, as you picked up your pace, Pero hot on your heels until you crossed the invisible barrier and found the castle ahead. Approaching the gates, you tapped with your wand and the same house elf appeared.
He grumbled at you, rolling his big eyes at the sight of you.
“Hello, again. Is there a professor I can speak to?”
You smiled hopefully as the elf assessed you both. Nodding, he snapped his fingers and the gates swung open allowing you passage onto the grounds. “Stay close,” you whispered to Pero.
“I hope one of the nice ones is here.”
You shivered at the thought of the radical separatist who insisted on keeping muggles out of the magical world, in fact only believing in Wizard supremacy. If you did run into one, you would need to figure out how to get Pero off the grounds safely.
Thankfully you were greeted by a short portly woman who looked to work in herbology herself. She grinned at the two of you as she introduced herself. Eyes wide, you introduced yourself and Pero to this woman you had long seen in paintings and now stood before you.
From the look in your eyes, Pero understood this person to be someone you revered and admired if not knew well from history.
“How can I help you dear?” You stood in the courtyard, the fountain babbled as Pero’s horse drank.
“I have this,” you presented the summoned time turner, now held in your palm breaking and pulling together on a loop. She looked down wide, before she called to the elf to call for another professor who soon arrived. Slightly taller and lean, she wore sapphire robes and had a rather regal air to her.
The pair examined the hourglass, trying with their wands to repair it but to no avail. The shorter woman, flustered and ruddy in the cheeks turned to you and asked if you were hungry.
She led you inside the dining hall where a few tables were lined up. It was much smaller than what you were used to, but it was lovely to see the castle in its infancy.
“So, you’re from the future?”
You hesitated to explain but ultimately knew they of all people would understand why you had broken protocol. However, you left out Pero being a muggle as well as your encounter with the pollen.
They watched you closely, conversing in hushed tones before they turned back to you. “If anyone knows anything about contained magic, it would be Ollivander.”
“The wand maker?”
The portly woman nodded, looking to Pero who had remained silent, and spoke carefully. “We do not connect our fireplaces to the floo network to avoid unwanted visitors but you can travel by thestral to the shop.”
You nodded, understanding that while they knew he was not magical they would allow him limited knowledge and passage.
“We will take care of your horse, sir.”
“Gracias.” He nodded and continued to stuff the roast that kept replenishing itself in his bowl.
“Excellent, they shall be ready for you when you are ready.”
You thanked the women and stood, Pero fumbling behind you and pocketing a meat hand pie before following you out of the dining hall and through the empty castle.
“What is a thestral?” He whispered to you.
“Oh! Like a horse that flies.”
At that Pero stopped in his tracks, his eyes wide in disbelief.
Walking back to him, you tugged on his arm. “They are one of the most magical creatures you’ll ever see, if you can see them.” You smiled at him, pulling him to catch up with your hosts.
“See them? Flying horse?”
“Don’t worry, Pero. I’ll keep you safe.” You offered him a wink and continued pulling him to the stables.
