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Barón Tovar Takes a Wife

Third Movement (Presto agitato)

11K / Bridgerton AU Regency!Pero Tovar x fem!reader, a childhood best friends to lovers story

Summary: What do you do now that you realize you have feelings for the Barón?

Warnings: 18+ Content (MDNI please). Pining and Angst. Semi public kissing, groping and sex. Someone comes in his breeches 🤷🏻‍♀️. F!oral, fingering, thigh riding, unprotected PiV. Pet names (spanish), Pero catches reader and gives her a little twirl once.

A/N: I'm sorry for the word count 😅😅 I feel like the pacing of this final part is kind of like season 1 of Bridgerton where it was like 5 episodes of flirting and then SMUTSMUTSMUT 🤭🤭 Just wanted to give our Spaniard and his Dulce a HEA, that's all! Please please correct my Spanish!! Google won't be offended! Thank you for reading along and hope you're looking forward to Season 3 of Bridgerton next week!

Series Masterlist 🎼 First Movement 🎼 Second Movement 🎼

The following morning you wake to your ladies’ maid gently shaking you and a massive headache. Barely able open your eyes, so puffy from crying, you’re sure you gave her a terrible fright. After asking for and drinking some water, you try using the cool glass to depuff your eyes and alleviate the pounding in your head, but no difference is made; you continue to feel positively awful. Daphne comes into your room at the behest of the maid and immediately sees you’re much too unwell to entertain visitors today; it’s an easy decision to send all your suitors away and have them come back when you’re better. When you start to apologize for causing a fuss, she immediately shushes you and insists you get rest - she will have the maids bring up some soothing tea. You lay back down, exhausted, and drift off in the middle of telling her how much you love her.

---

Pero steps into Bridgerton House just as several young men are leaving; as they brush past him, he spots Colin speaking with a maid in the main foyer.

“Tovar! It’s been ages – how have you been?” Colin beams when he sees his friend.

In truth, Pero is here to see you; he can’t quite get over the look of distress on your face when you left him last night. Not for the first time, Pero silently curses Lord Ridlington for having sent over women to his house unsolicited last night, his apparent idea of a prank. Leaving the women to themselves in a waiting room, Pero had been discussing with his butler the next course of action when you had surprised him beneath his window. After you left, he made the proper arrangements for the women to leave discreetly, and had gone to bed thinking of you as usual.

“I’ve been well, thank you. Hope things have been going well here? Have today’s suitors started their visits earlier than usual?” He gestures to another three men now descending the stairs and making towards the exit in an orderly line.

“No, my Lord,” the maid explains, “Miss is ill today. Her suitors have been sent away and asked to return when she has recovered and is ready to receive visitors again.”

“Ill?!” How could you have taken ill when he just saw you? Instantly Pero admonishes himself for having kept you standing outside last night - the night chill must have disagreed with you. “Please,” he begs, “take me to see her.”

The maid looks panic stricken. Surely this Spanish nobleman must understand the impropriety of a man being let in to the bed chambers of an unmarried woman.

Colin diverts her attention, “Marie, it will be okay. Barón Tovar is an old family friend of the Count’s. There is nothing improper afoot. The door will remain open and you and I shall both be but a step away.”

With Mr. Bridgerton’s assurance, Marie the maid leads the two men to your door and opens it wide before stepping back to wait outside with Colin. Pero walks into darkness, the curtains still drawn to help you sleep and ease the pain of your headache, but your magnetic pull leads him to you with no issue.

Kneeling by your bedside, Pero says your name softly, but you do not stir. He goes to push aside some hair that’s fallen across your forehead and is alarmed when it feels hot to the touch; using the back of his hand to check your forehead and cheeks, he finds you clammy and feverish. Shouting for Marie, both Colin and the maid rush in to Pero’s call, “Please find the Duchess! Her friend is running a fever and a doctor needs to be called. And please bring me a basin of cold water and a clean washcloth at once!”

Daphne rushes in minutes later to find Pero dabbing your forehead with the wet cloth that Marie procured, “Oh no! I saw her this morning and knew she was unwell, but I did not think to check for a temperature!”

Shaking his head softly, Pero entreats the Duchess, “Do not blame yourself, your Grace. Likely this morning she was not feverish when you saw her. Please, has a doctor been called?”

The Duchess nods tearfully, grateful for Pero’s kind words and feeling a kinship with this man who clearly shares her tremendous concern for your well being.

When the doctor arrives, Daphne stays in the room and gives Pero a nod of reassurance; he leaves begrudgingly though he knows you are in safe hands with the Duchess. Hovering impatiently never more than a step away from the door, Pero breathes a sigh of relief when he overhears the doctor say that your temperature is no longer increasing, and that if kept cool and comfortable, your fever should easily break over the next day or two. He vows to ensure both conditions are met to the best of his abilities until the moment you awake.

After the doctor leaves and Daphne has gone in search of a servant to fetch your father, Pero stays by your side, continuously stroking your hair gently and dabbing your hot skin with a cool cloth. Every time Daphne passes by the open door of your room, she looks in to find Pero watching over you, brows furrowed, eyes full of concern and worry. Sometimes the Duchess will see Pero’s lips moving, speaking gently to you - though she never hears the words he says, she can tell they’re heartfelt. It becomes crystal clear to her that two weeks ago she had simply asked the Barón the wrong question; instead of “Do you intend to court her?”, she should have asked Pero: “Do you love her?” The answer obvious.

Pero never leaves your side, not when the Bridgerton women visit, or even when your father comes. He just tucks himself into the corner of the room until their visits are over, as if afraid to leave you. When it’s just him and you alone, he tries his best to make sure you’re comfortable, arranging your blankets nicely and propping up your pillows so that your sleep is restful and serene. He requests that cool water and clean cloths are at his constant disposal, and makes sure to dab your face, neck, and decolletage at consistent intervals in order to keep your temperature down. And while he does so, Pero continuously talks to you, encouraging you to get better, coaxing you back to him.

He calls you carino, hermosa, princesa, mi reina, mi amor, and all the other endearments he doesn’t ever let himself call you save for in his head. He lavishes you with compliments and words of praise that he's never allowed to slip past his lips - how perfect you are, how sweet and smart, that he doesn’t know anyone else like you and that your cheerful demeanor and melodic voice are the only things that can ever make him smile. He tells you how he hasn’t smiled as much as he has since he reunited with you at the Danbury ball in years. He confesses that every time he holds you while you dance, he has trouble letting go when the music ends, and when he sees another man take your hand and spin you around the room, he has to hold himself back from physically stepping in and pulling you back into his arms. He tells you that he finds you beautiful and intoxicating, and describes every last inch of you that he can’t stop dreaming about, but lingers the longest in his description of your eyes and the richness of expressions they make that leave him breathless. He tells you all these things because if he doesn’t say them out loud, he thinks he will burst from having to hold his feelings in all the time. He tells you these things because he knows you will never hear them.

As the doctor predicted, the fever breaks late the following day and you start to stir shortly after. Blinking your eyes open slowly, they come into focus to your father’s worry lined face and you watch as it cracks with relief, “Welcome back, dearest. How do you feel?”

Not sure you can trust your voice right now, you give your father a small smile and nod when he says he needs to get the doctor. In the few minutes you have alone, you try to get your bearings; the last thing you remember is waking to a terrible headache and falling back asleep after Daphne told you she would be sending your suitors away. You swear you have vague memories of Pero’s voice and soft touch, but that couldn’t have been real. Pero. Oh. You remember now the reason for having woken up before feeling empty and sad, but you don’t have too long to linger on it because your father returns swiftly with the doctor.

After declaring you well on your way to a full recovery, the doctor leaves you with your father; the Count, looking like the weight of the world has been lifted off his shoulders, hugs you tightly and clasps his hands tightly over yours, “I am so glad you are better, dearest. Now, will you please tell your suffering father what is troubling that heart of yours?”

You’re shocked. How could your father know about your feelings for Pero when you only realized them a few nights ago? Your surprise must be written all over your face because the Count gently explains, “My dear, in the entirety of your life, you have only ever had such a fever twice, both times due to crying yourself sick from heartbreak. The first time was when you were a young girl and I read you The Little Mermaid - the ending saddened you to tears. The other was when we were leaving Portugal and I didn’t let you keep the stray puppy you had been feeding for a month. This is how I know something ails your heart terribly. Please. Tell your father so he can help you.”

Your heart swells with affection for your father - he has always been the most loving and caring man, attentive to your feelings and understanding of your nature. There is no one on this earth who you trust so whole heartedly and with whom you feel so safe. Except for Pero, you suddenly realize.

You tell your father everything. You tell him about how Pero lets you be yourself without reservation, and that with him you don’t need to temper down your enthusiasm for your interests or make your experiences seem smaller than they are. How he encourages you in everything you do and makes you feel like you’re capable of anything and everything. He respects you and approaches you with kindness, always making you feel safe and taken care of. That he makes you laugh all the time. And that you’ve taken Pero and his wonderfulness for granted, not realizing just how rare and valuable all his amazing qualities are because if you had you would have figured out earlier that you’re completely in love with him. You cry softly and confess to your father that your heart is broken because you’re in love with a man who will never see you more than a childhood compatriot, and that you may never get over this sad truth.

The Count listens to you sympathetically, and when you’re finished, he simply tilts his head thoughtfully and asks, “How do you know he does not care for you in the same manner?”

You can hardly tell your father that you snuck out of Bridgerton House and interrupted Pero when he had company over, so you have to cite another reason you’re so certain of how Pero feels about you. But you find yourself struggling to come up with any concrete examples or reasoning that satisfy even yourself; all you can say is, “Because he wishes for me to find a husband. He encourages me to do so. I’m simply the daughter of his father’s friend.”

Something like bemusement dances over your father’s face, “It seems to a me that a man who thinks of you as simply the daughter of his father’s friend would not have purchased my shares in the fleet.”

You’re absolutely stunned. Pero purchased your father’s shares? But why? There was no inherent income from the investment, the dividends benefitted you and your future children only, “Why would Pero do that?”

“You will have to ask him yourself, dearest. It shouldn’t be too long before he visits himself now that he’s likely heard you’re awake. He had not left your bedside for nearly two days and it was only at my insistence that he let me sit vigil so he could go home and change his clothes.”

Again, you’re astonished; is it possible that your vague recollections of Pero’s voice and gentle touches while you were ill are real?

“I will say, when I asked him the same question of why, his answer was that he did not want the hard work you and I put into our happy venture to be squandered. He said he knew that would break your heart.”

It’s true, it would.

“With his experience, I know the fleet would be in good hands.”

Nodding, you have to agree.

“… and you would be in good hands.”

You look up to see your father looking at you with an expression you can’t quite place. You’re about to ask him about it when you hear a quiet knocking and you look over to see Pero standing in the open doorway, as if you had summoned him with your conversation.

“My apologies, I do not mean to interrupt. I thought I heard your voice and wanted to see if you were awake,” Pero looks tired, but hopeful.

The Count waves him in and gets up, whispering in your ear, “Be kind to him, dearest. The man has been in anguish and has not left your bedside for more than a few minutes these past two days.” Kissing you on the cheek, he tells you he will go and find the Duchess to give her the good news of your recovery if the doctor has not yet done so himself. After he pulls away, you notice for the first time that your room is filled with peonies, every flat surface covered with the most splendid displays in the prettiest pastel colours – your heart soars at the sight. When Pero takes your father’s place in the chair across from you, neither of you notice that the Count closes the door behind him.

“Dulce, how are you feeling,” asks Pero with as much feeling as you’ve ever heard from him.

You tell him you’re much better, and that although no one has said so explicitly, you suspect that much of your recovery is due to his diligent care and watch over you.

“It was nothing, Dulce. I was worried about you. I am glad you are okay now,” he says, relief evident in his voice.

“Thank you for taking care of me. I really don't know what I have done to deserve your kindness, Pero. And not only these past two days when I’ve taken ill, but over the entire course of this season – I do not think I have ever properly thanked you for being there for me, supporting and encouraging me, and bringing me such peace and joy so that I did not buckle under the pressure of my debut. Please allow me to do so right now. Thank you, Pero,” you look at him with adoration and admiration, pouring all your feelings out and disguising them as simple gratitude.

“It has been my absolute pleasure, truly. I am so very proud of the woman you have grown up to be: beautiful, smart, funny, and so, so very caring. You are one of kind, Dulce – and the lucky man who marries you needs to know just how special you are. There isn’t anyone else who has your vibrant spirit, your sweet disposition, your fun-loving heart. He needs to know and nurture all these wonderful qualities so that your light never goes out,” Pero espouses your virtues and merits with eyes fixed upon yours, wishing he could express just how deep his admiration truly runs.

To say you’re affected would be an understatement, and it makes you bold and brave.

“Pero, I cannot tell you how much your kind words mean to me. I have never known a man to be more genuine and earnest that you; when you say something, you mean it. I find you so very thoughtful this way. And in other ways as well – I know, for example, it must have been you who filled this room with my favourite flowers.” Pero nods indulgently and you carry on, “… and I know you purchased the shares in the fleet from my father. Thank you, Pero.”

Pero is surprised, although he had not asked the Count to keep the sale from you, he didn’t expect you to know already.

You’re looking at him with an expression he won’t let himself name, eyes soft, almost pleading, “Why would you do something so generous, Pero?”

Pero remains quiet, as if wrestling with how he wishes to answer and you wait patiently, not sure what to expect.

“The owner of the shares has custody of a great gift. The fleet is an impressive venture - it has potential to do considerable good in this world, and much of that is thanks to you and your father’s dedication and contributions – the holder of these shares cannot squander that opportunity; he needs to honour you and your father’s legacy by carrying on the good work you’ve started together. But that in and of itself is not the gift. The man who holds these shares is also given the gift of being able to take care of you, to have a small hand in ensuring a prosperous future for you and your children. I… could not take the risk that someone who did not understand the honour of this charge would hold these shares. I hope you can understand and not think it imprudent of me.”

You don’t know what to say. Pero is so generous and considerate – how could he ever think you would view his gesture as anything but deeply caring? Unsure of your silence, Pero attempts to lighten the mood, “This way, I can still be in your life. I can come to see you when I need to discuss matters of the fleet.”

“Pero, you’re my friend! You do not need to have a business pretense to see me.”

He shakes his head sadly, “You will be married, Dulce. Your husband would not like a man like me visiting his wife frequently.”

“A man like you?” you’re not sure what he means.

“A man who looks at you the way I look at you.”

You inhale sharply, hardly allowing yourself to breathe, “And how do you look at me, Pero?”

“Like you are the sun, Dulce. Like everything you touch is made brighter and better from the light of your smile and the warmth of your sweet laugh. As if under your care and attention, everything and everyone, including me, grows – stronger, brighter, better. I look at you like I dream about the graceful notes of your voice every night and wish to hear your melody of thoughts and opinions on all things. I look at you like I am hypnotized just by the sway of your hips and even the lilt of your fingers. Everyday, I’m ever more enchanted with the tilt of your head and curve of your mouth. I look at you like I could never get enough.”

“And what if I don’t want that?”

“Then I will stay away, mi reina. Anything you wish,” though crushed, Pero knows that he would do whatever you asked.

“No, Pero, you misunderstand. What if I don’t want a husband who does not want you looking at me like that? What if I want you to look at me like that? What if I do not want a husband who isn’t you?”

“Dulce…” Pero’s heart has leapt into his throat, he can hardly allow himself to believe what he’s hearing, “… you do not know what you’re saying. You would not want me for a husband.”

You smile kindly, “And why not?”

Pero looks at you so sadly it breaks your heart, “You would not wish to separate from your friends and leave England to be mistress of a lowly Barón’s estate in a foreign land where you know no one and do not speak the language. Not when you have suitors with much grander fortunes, with estates nearer to your friends, and where you and your children would grow up in the style befitting the daughter of a British Count. You would not want a husband who is never home and spends more time on the seas and in far off lands than he does on home soil; one you never see and for whom you would worry all the time, not knowing where he is or what he is doing.”

“Would you not be willing to take me with you on your travels, Pero?”

“Of course, I would,” Pero never second guesses his answer.

Heart still aflutter at Pero’s romantic declarations, you press ahead, determined. “Well. It seems then that no one would be better suited to be my husband than you! You must know me well enough to know that I do not care for grand fortunes and estates, and my dear father and now you have made sure that I will never be financially dependent on any husband. What I care for is freedom and adventure! And exploration and not being kept from the joys this life has to offer because I am a woman, or just somebody’s wife. As for my friends, I can always visit! And I am fortunate enough that the strength of our bonds is not dependent on having to see each other constantly. Honestly! This would not be the first time in my life I have gone to live in a foreign country where I do not speak the native tongue – it’s practically second nature to me now! But I can see how it would be useful to be able to fluently converse with servants and locals - I suppose I would just have to commit myself to learning Spanish. That is,” you’re suddenly embarrassed upon realizing that Pero hasn’t actually asked you to be his wife, and instead, you’re espousing all the reasons you find the match to be agreeable when he himself hasn’t expressed any desire for it, “if you would wish to have me.”

“Dulce, all I have done since the moment I laid eyes on you at the Danbury Ball is wish to have you. Do you know how hard it was for me to see you entertaining all those suitors when I was certain none of them could ever appreciate you for even half the wonderful person you are? None of them had any idea what a smar-“

You crash your lips to his, and after the initial surprise, Pero kisses you back with the fervent need that’s been building in his soul the past few months. Throwing your arms around him, you open your mouth to his just as his hands pull you flush to his chest; it’s the warmest, hungriest first kiss to have ever been kissed. Your mind having only recently caught up to your heart, and Pero’s constrained feelings finally being set free, your tongues press together over and over, spilling all the unspoken words between the both of you. On instinct you fist Pero’s shirt and pull him down with you onto the bed, Pero’s eyes darkening as he climbs on top of you, placing one knee in between your legs while keeping the other on the ground. You finally run your hands through his soft curls and it feels as incredible as you had imagined two nights ago; you both moan softly at the sensation.

“Dulce, you make the prettiest noises…”

You purr softly at Pero’s praise, leading him to groan deeper into your mouth and you feel the hand that isn’t braced on the pillow next to your head start to skate up your side, landing near your breast and tentatively drawing circles on the underside of your plush curves with its thumb. You arch into Pero’s hand to encourage him to touch you, and he responds as he always promised he would if he had the chance which is to give in to your every desire. Groping your breast and finding your nipple between his fingers, Pero rolls and pinches so expertly that you can’t help but writhe beneath him. He shifts to kiss down your neck as he continues his attentions on your peak and when his knee brushes your throbbing centre, you gasp loudly before covering your mouth with your hands. Still breathing heavily, the two of you giggle and smile stupidly at each other in the tender moment. Pressing his forehead against yours, Pero whispers, “Mi reina, we should stop, I still need to ask your father for your hand. Tomorrow, I am sure he will come here for breakfast and I will ask to speak with him after.”

Looking deep into is eyes, you nod; you know Pero’s right, though there’s a warmth radiating from your very being that wishes to invite scandal and tell him to never stop touching you, knowing by the way he’s making you feel right now that it would be worth it.

Not without regret, Pero pulls himself off of you and stands; after he helps you sit up, Pero tips your chin with his finger so you look at him squarely. A seriousness takes over his face, an expression he usually reserves for others, “Are you sure you want me, mi amor? You have so many suitors, so many options.”

Your eyes shine with sincerity and so much softness for this man that does not seem to understand just how much you love him. You vow to spend the rest of your days showing him, “There are no options when there’s you, Pero.”

You can’t help but shriek a little in laughter as Pero falls on you and crushes his lips to yours, pinning your body to your bed with his large and solid frame. Kissing you over and over, Pero punctuates his affection with barely strung together words of love - So perfect. So perfect. Can’t believe it. How. How did I get so. Damn. Lucky. Beautiful. Perfect girl.

Right before your giggles can turn into moans, a knock on your door freezes you both. The noise is quickly followed by the Duchess’ slightly amused voice, “Is everything okay? We have brought up dinner. Please let me know when it is decent for us to come in.”

Giving you one last peck on your lips before chuckling lightly, Pero pulls you up and whispers, “Tomorrow,” before going to open the door for Daphne.

The next morning you find Pero waiting for you at the bottom of the stairs when you come down. Checking quickly to make sure there aren’t any lingering servants, you step off the third to last step and fling yourself into his arms. Pero catches you easily and gives you a twirl before placing you gently on your feet, then places a less gentle kiss to your lips. With a few hurried murmurings of devotion - I missed you. You look beautiful. I still can’t believe you’re mine - you break apart and head to breakfast.

When the two of you enter the dining room, you’re greeted exuberantly by your friends congratulating you on your recovery and expressing their delight that you’re well enough to rejoin them. Your father hugs you and you think you detect a knowing smile gracing his face, but you’re too soon seated with platters of food being offered and pushed towards you for you to be sure. It’s a happy occasion but also slightly awkward – you’re seated next to Pero, but you have to pretend that nothing has changed between the two of you. Trying to cheerfully chat with your father and friends, you find yourself unable to give the conversation your full attention because you trying with all your might to hold in the most wonderful news of your life, and with it, your overflowing happiness. It doesn’t help that Pero finds increasingly mischievous ways to secretly touch you throughout breakfast: foot reaching over to playfully nudge yours, gently squeezing your thigh under the table. When he purposefully brushes his hand down your arm and over yours in order to reach for the butter dish, you gasp in surprise - his touch out in the open sending a warm thrill through to your heart. In response to your friends’ concerns, you have to lie and say you may still be feeling fatigued, and Pero, ever the menace, pats your shoulder affectionately and reminds you not to overexert yourself before buttering his scone with a smirk.

After your father finishes his meal, you nervously watch Pero hastily shove his last piece of food into his mouth before asking the Viscount for use of his office, and entreats your father for a word. Finishing your own breakfast as quickly as you can without drawing suspicion, you find your way to the closed office doors and pace outside impatiently. Try as you may, you cannot make out any of what is being spoken in the office, even when you press your ear up to the door. After what feels like an eternity, the door opens and Pero exits; not the least bit surprise to find you outside, he whispers in your ear as he walks by, “Your father wishes to see you now, Dulce. Come find me afterwards. I will be upstairs writing a letter.”

The Count welcomes you into the office with open arms and you immediately fly into your father’s loving embrace. As he continues to envelope you in the warmth of his joy, he chuckles, “Well, dearest, I think your old father deserves some acknowledgement for being right.”

Pulling away from him, you look at the face that’s so much like your own, eyes crinkled in mirth and a smile big enough to rival yours, “I concede, Father - you were right. And I have never been so happy to have been wrong!”

Your father’s already expressive eyes shine with an extra brightness, “All I have ever hoped for is your happiness, my dear. Pero is a good man, like his father before him and he has given me every assurance that he will cherish and take care of you the way you deserve. I shall rest easily knowing that you will be in his capable hands… and he in yours.”

What did you ever do to deserve such a brilliant father who has given you the most wonderful life? You ponder this as you walk up the stairs after telling your father that you love him and saying goodbye for the day. You suspect you’ll never discover a satisfactory answer, but can only hope you can one day bestow the same unconditional love and support upon your own children.

You find Pero sitting at the corner desk in the drawing room where some of the Bridgertons are relaxing: Eloise and Colin reading, Francesca tinkering at the piano forte, Daphne looking over some correspondence of her own. Approaching him silently, you look over his shoulder and whisper, “Mi rey, to whom are you writing?”

Smiling at your Spanish endearment of choice, Pero responds without looking up from his task, “I am writing my king, Dulce, and asking him for his permission to marry.”

Ah right, you consider that the Count could very well be penning a similar letter to the queen at this same moment, “What happens if he refuses, Pero?”

“Then I abscond with my new bride and we live like pirates on the run,” smiles Pero, still not looking up.

“That doesn’t sound so bad,” you grin.

Pero finally sets his soft gaze upon you, “Nothing can be so bad if you are by my side, mi reina.”

He looks at you with such devotion and affection, you can’t help yourself - you cup his perfect face in your hands and bend down to kiss him. Pero returns your soft, gentle kisses with his own, nothing urgent, nothing hurried – just a moment of tenderness that couldn’t have been restrained.

You don’t break apart even when you hear the successive gasps of your friends or even when Colin cheers, unable to part from Pero’s lips even a moment sooner than you need to. When the two of your finally look up, it’s to the sight of the Duchess standing with her hands on her hips and a beaming smile on her face, “Do you two have something to tell us?”

You and Pero attend all of the remaining season events as a happily engaged couple. Pero, no longer scowling all by his lonesome against the wall, but standing tall and proud next to you; his hand laced through yours or comforting and firm on your lower back as the two of you receive congratulations from the ton. He drinks in the jealous looks from your former suitors and inwardly chuckles a little at the conceding grumbles from the mamas who proclaim with surprise that they didn’t know he had been looking for a wife. His stoic countenance cracking just a little at their poorly concealed scandalized faces when he replies that he hadn’t been. For your part, you don’t notice any of this; you only have eyes and ears for Pero. Your face hurts from smiling so much – it’s all you can do to tear your eyes away from your handsome fiancé in order to respond politely to the questions you receive from curious members of the ton.

You still dance every dance, floating on air as you traverse the floor in the strong arms of your dashing Spaniard; now that there is no danger of some other man whisking you away from him for the next dance, Pero quite enjoys the dance floor. He holds you closer than he probably should, chests touching and faces so close that the gentle fan of your breath curls over his lips; his hands find themselves placed low on your back during the waltz, dipping scandalously close to where he really wants them to be, itching to squeeze the plush globes of your ass. If anyone was to make a comment to you about it, you would giggle and simply say that your fiancé is a passionate man.

And he is. A passionate man, that is. Under his grave and steely visage, Pero is a man who yearns for and craves the woman he loves, hungry for you at all times. Such a man is not made of infinite restraint - the limits of Pero’s self control having already been sorely tested for the past few months. As such, whenever an opportunity to escape the rigid formality of these events would arise, Pero wasted no time whisking you away for himself.

At the Grand Picnic, he steals you away to a secluded spot in the gardens where he proceeds to kiss you so fervently and passionately that you actually get dizzy. He presses you against the base of some winged sculpture and hungrily licks and sucks down your neck, all while you cover your mouth with your hands, hoping against hope to contain your moans and soft whimpers. The stone angel watches from its perch as Pero trails his mouth down past your collar towards the swell of your breasts, already rapidly rising and falling. Pressing feather light kisses to the tops of your breasts, Pero drinks in your breathy giggles when his scruff tickles you, before diving in devilishly, lapping at your ample curves and the valley in between. As you start to pant from arousal, Pero finds himself most ardently wishing that your tits would break free of their fine silk confines and spill into his mouth.

A la mierda, he thinks and glides his tongue into the sliver of space between your dress and skin, dragging it across your chest until he hits your hardened nipple; having found his prize, Pero dives in, straining with his tongue to stroke your peak harder and faster. When he leverages enough space with his chin to wedge in between your soft skin and the fabric of your dress, Pero takes your breast into his mouth and sucks while groping your other breast with his hand, finding the twin nipple already straining against your gown, aching to be played with. The combined sensation has you grabbing at Pero’s hair and pressing him closer to you; with your hands now otherwise occupied, your gasps and moans spill unfiltered from your open mouth. The obscene sounds Pero pulls from you must start to carry, because soon you hear voices getting nearer to where you and Pero have now frozen, his mouth buried in your chest; he places one last chaste kiss to tops of each of your breasts before the two of you giggle and run hand-in-hand out of the gardens.

At the Opera, Pero secures a box on the second mezzanine for the two of you. With most of the ton preferring the orchestra seats or boxes closer to the stage, you find yourselves alone in the secluded alcove nearer to the house balcony. Once the lights dim and the overture starts, Pero takes your hand in his and you lean on his shoulder, relaxing into his closeness. By the time the audience is enjoying the soprano’s heart-breaking aria in the third act, Pero has his left arm thrown around you and the knuckles of his right hand are ghosting over the front of your panties where he finds them already damp from want.

“Keep your eyes on the stage, Dulce,” he whispers in your ear as his thumb draws slow circles over your clit. You have to bite your lip to stop yourself from crying out, trying with all your might not to let your whole body react to Pero’s teasing lest it draws the attention of the opera house attendees sitting on the balcony or in the boxes on the opposite side of the hall.

Pero is patient. And thorough. He takes an inordinate time exploring the shape of your pussy - running his thumb then fingers over the outline of your slit and the hardening form of your clit, eventually cupping your mound and letting you grind down on his palm to give you some of the friction you so desperately seek. He toys with you over the fabric of your underwear for the remainder of the 3rd act until your panties are completely soaked through. Only once the 4th act is underway does he slip his hand down the front of your underwear and start to run his forefinger through your folds.

“Pero…” you sigh, spreading your legs wider to allow him more freedom of movement.

“Doing so good for me, mi amor,” he whispers back, continuing his smooth, teasing strokes, dragging your sticky arousal through the valleys of your seam and trailing it up to your clit, spreading it over and around your bundle of nerves before returning his fingers to your wet core. He repeats this over and over, alternating the speed and pressure of his fingers, never letting you settle into a complacent state. Quite the opposite – you feel like your body is on fire.

Willing yourself to breathe through your nose as evenly as you can, you focus on the soprano’s finale song before the ensemble gathers for the finale; just as the singer hits the high notes of her solo with a warm vibrato, Pero pushes a finger straight into your heat and you whine in harmony with her. Slowly he pumps his finger in and out of your tight hole, nearly losing control with the way you clench as he drags along your warm warms; Pero feels you hum around him as pleasure you’ve never felt before radiates throughout your entire body. The squelching sound of Pero working your cunt are thankfully masked by the musical drama unfolding on the stage, and Pero uses the opportunity to ask you if you’re ready for another.

Seeing you nod as subtly as you can, Pero murmurs, “Good girl,” before adding a second finger to join the first. Oh. You’re so full. It’s a stretch, but the sting pairs perfectly with the devastating pleasure now coursing through your veins as Pero slowly drives his fingers into you. Staying with a slower pace until you start dripping down his wrist, Pero’s fingers now start to thrust faster, keeping tempo with the musical build that the ton in the orchestra is enjoying, clueless to your lascivious activities above them.

When Pero presses his thumb to your slippery clit, you surge forward and grab onto the balcony banister for stability, nearly in danger of drawing the attention of unwanted eyes. Refusing to ease up in his efforts on your cunt, Pero continues to push you closer and closer to your high, his fingers never faltering from their punishing pace until you come and cry out in tune with the finale’s final chorus. While the rest of the audience applauses when the curtain falls, Pero’s praise is only for you - purring that you did so good for him and kissing you gently as his slips his slick covered hand back into his glove.

At the Hastings Ball, you’re the one feeling bold. Having arrived at your friend’s estate a week prior to help the Duchess with preparations, you familiarize yourself with the grounds and all the intimate, secret corners perfect for intimate, secret things. Once all the guests have arrived and the festivities have begun in earnest, you sneak off with your fiancé, leading him down a hidden staircase into the Duke’s impressive wine cellar. With all of tonight’s refreshments having already been pulled from inventory, you know no one will be coming down here during the ball; you’re free to touch, feel and love on Pero in all the ways you desire. Once Pero realizes the amount of privacy you’ve been afforded, he’s like a dog unleashed, stalking and cornering you into a wall with a growl, sniping at your neck with his teeth and lips, pawing at your soft curves already on display for him in your pretty ballgown.

Here in the cellar, while you still cannot be loud, but you don’t have to be quiet – the cavernous room echos your quiet moans and Pero’s deep grunts like a soundtrack of pleasure that’s percussed by heavy breathing as the two of you drown in one another. Lips attached to yours, but eyes kept open to take in your lustful expression, Pero spies an unopened crate out of the corner of his eye and smiles against your mouth, “Come here, Dulce. Let me show you something.”

After letting him lead you to the crate, you allow Pero to help you on top before scooting you back so your legs no longer dangle over the edge. Grinning, you ask playfully, “What, pray tell, do you wish to show me, Barón?”

“Want to show you how I’m going to make my pretty wife feel good every day we are married,” Pero looks at you, eyes dark, as his starts to ruffle up the many layers of your dress. You giggle as his pushes through the yards of fabric with a feigned annoyance, bunching it up for you to hold against your chest like an overstuffed pillow. Once Pero is satisfied with his unfettered access, he gently pushes you to lean back on your elbows, hands still laid prettily on your pillow of dress skirts, eyes watching your handsome fiancé’s movements. Pero leans over the edge of the crate and rubs your silk stocking covered calves with his big firm hands as he starts kissing up your leg starting from where your stockings end mid thigh. Every kiss he leaves on your skin gives you a shiver as the cool cellar air hits the imprint his lips leaves behind; then, as he gets closer to your heat, he starts to open mouth kiss where you’re the most sensitive, dragging his tongue back and forth over these tender spot and leading you to throw you head back and close your eyes in heady desire. When he repeats this fog inducing pattern on the inside of your other thigh, you start begging, “Pero, please… please, my Lord, ple-pl-please!”

Nipping at your sensitive flesh with his teeth, Pero smirks against your leg, “What do you need, mi reina?”

Opening your eyes, you nearly buck into his face when you see Pero’s roguish expression peeking up at you from between your wide spread legs, “Touch me please, mi rey.”

“Here?” he asks, with pretend innocence before he dives in and starts devouring your pussy over the fabric of your underwear without waiting for your answer. This feels different. So much like his fingers but even more sensual, intimate, wild. Pero mouths and nuzzles your cunt with a precision only rivalled by that of his tongue; his tongue has a mind of his own, gently prodding, exploring, reaching where his lips can’t. Pero's hands reach up your legs and hook under the band of your soaked panties and you catch him look at you before he murmurs “May I?” directly into your cunt. The vibrations of his question run through to your chest and it’s all you can do to nod quickly before you watch him pull the frilly undergarment down your legs and have them drop to the ground. Already completely wrecked, Pero takes in your glistening folds, wet and primed, and growls, “Look at this perfect pussy. And she’s all mine.”

You run one hand through his soft curls and grip his hair so he’ll look at you, smiling lazily, already unbelievably blissed out, you promise, “All yours.”

“Mine,” Pero repeats, and then he buries his face into heaven.

The sensation is overwhelming in the very best way. Pero is eating you, no, devouring you like a man starved; every press of his lips to your pussy somehow deeper and hungrier than the last, as his tongue licks every crest and wave of your core and marks them for his own. Your slick pools from you, down your backside and dampens your gown beneath you; the wet noises from Pero’s mouth against your folds echo obscenely around you and your voice cannot help but try to add in its own harmony. All of this makes you feel like a worshiped goddess about to ascend her alter and simultaneously like a wanton whore who knows that true heaven lies in the bodily pleasures of this mortal realm. Then, as Pero’s mouth closes over your clit and he starts to flick your throbbing nub with his tongue, you realize in your daze that no, what you are is something better than either of those two things: you’re the woman who is marrying Barón Pero Tovar. That’s the thought that overflows from your thumping heart and pushes you over the edge, coming on Pero’s face as you chant his name in a grateful prayer.

After the Ball, you’re positively exhausted from purposefully overdoing the socializing after returning from the wine cellar so no one would recall your long absence. Yawning, you’re giving your hair a final brush when you hear a soft clink against your bedroom window, followed shortly by another, then another.

Confused, you approach your window with slight trepidation, and upon looking out, you think at first that your tired eyes must be deceiving you. Below your window, gazing up at you, is Pero. He looks devastatingly handsome; yet to undress – Pero is still in his formal breeches, but his white shirt has been unbuttoned to the middle of his chest, exposing his smooth, tanned skin to your admiring gaze. You might lick your lips at the sight. Giggling as you tiptoe down the stairs, you walk out onto the terrace that hangs off the sitting room directly below your bedroom, greeted by Pero’s blinding smile, “Barón, what are you doing here?”

It's an easy climb up the side of the wall to the terrace level for Pero and his long legs; once he’s standing directly in front of you, he answers, “I could not sleep without seeing you one last time, Dulce.”

Where did this man who adores you so openly and without reservation come from? You throw your arms around his neck and pull him in for a gleeful kiss; you adore him too, after all.

Still grinning, Pero jokes, “And as I recall, it is my turn to call upon you in the dead of night from beneath your window in order to rouse you from the comfort of your bed chamber.”

Although he has no such intent, Pero’s words immediately transport you back to the night you realized your feelings for him… and how you had left his house, devastated upon the discovery that he was not alone. Stilling in your movements, you shrink away from Pero a little; none of this goes without notice.

“Dulce, are you okay? I’m sorry, I did not mean to imply there was anything wrong with these late-night meetings, but if you prefer to go back inside, I understand.”

You shake your head to let him know you’re not upset by that, but still your expression remains slightly sad and hurt. Pero bends at the knee to meet your eye, “Mi amor?”

You’ve never lied or kept anything from Pero in all the time you’ve known him, and now that you’re his fiancé, you’re not about to start. Looking at the ground next to you, you mumble, “I’m sorry, I was just remembering the night you’re alluding to; when I interrupted you… with those two women.”

When Pero doesn’t answer, you wonder if he’s upset with you for having disturbed him that night, and you look up to meet his eye finally, trying to give him a brave smile, “Please do not be upset with me. I did not know you had company, which would have been entirely your private business, to which I know I am not entitled. But if I must be honest, I do not particularly enjoy imagining you with other women.”

Pero has to stifle a laugh; if only you understood the war that raged in his chest every time a suitor placed his hand on your waist for a dance or when you would laugh at their jokes with that twinkle in your eye he loves so much – then you would not feel as if you had to hide these feelings from him.

Stroking your jaw gently, Pero tips your face to his, “Dulce, I could never be upset with you. Firstly, you are entitled to all my business, private or not. Secondly, the women to which you refer were not there by my invitation – Lord Ridlington had sent them to my house that evening as some sort of prank. In his words, maybe if the Barón got laid, he would not be such a stick in the mud. Nothing happened with those women, I promise, mi amor. When you arrived, I was right in the middle of arranging for a carriage to take them home. And thirdly,” Pero walks you backward until your back hits the wall; he braces an arm above your head, and towering over you, grips firmly onto your waist with his other hand, “how could I ever even think of another woman when there is you? You with your pretty face, and your sweet smile, and your heavenly laugh. You with your witty quips, and your melodic voice that says the smartest things, and this gorgeous body…”

Pero’s voice trails off as he starts to kiss down your neck and his strong hands start to move up and down your sides in unison, then separating so one can reach up to massage your breast and the other down to grope your ass. Your head tips back to allow Pero more access as you melt into his touch - he’s everywhere at once, overwhelming all of your senses. Kissing down to your breasts, Pero finds them available to him in a way he has yet to experience, your thin night dress much flimsier than the gowns you wear during the day; he can already see your nipples poking up through the fabric, hard and inviting. Without warning, he ducks and takes one in his mouth, teasing and sucking in tandem with your loud gasps and moans.

“Oh Pero, right there, oh- nghhh, please that feels so good!” you cry out breathily. Spurned on by your praise, Pero frantically rucks up the skirts of your nightgown and slots his thigh between your legs, pulling you down to sit. The pressure and friction on your cunt sends a wave of pleasure through you, amplified and extended by Pero’s tongue and lips laving their attention on your breasts. He encourages you to rock against his thigh, using his grip on your waist to help you find an enjoyable rhythm, and once you’ve found one that catches your clit on the flex of his leg, his hands leave you to your work and travel up your body to pull down the front of your night dress, exposing your tits to the cool night air and Pero’s darkened gaze.

“Beautiful,” he breathes, as he leans back to admire everything before him: your naked curves, your hardened peaks begging for his attention, and the sight of the woman he loves getting off by rubbing her pretty pussy all over his thigh. He thinks he’s minutes away from combusting.

Instead, he dives right into your chest, mouth and tongue licking, kissing and nibbling, hands groping, pinching and pulling all your delicious parts so that he can bring you to your second orgasm of the night. While tugging at your nipple with his teeth, he hisses low, “Were you jealous, Dulce?”

Half out of your mind from pleasure you gasp back, “Yes!”

Growling, “Good,” Pero sucks in a mouthful of your breast and kneads what he can’t fit into his mouth with his hands, panting out words when he should be taking in breaths of much needed air -

Now you know how I felt.

When some other man would touch you.

When you would smile at your suitors.

When you didn’t know I would burn the world for you.

You cry out at his confessions, gripping the back of his head and pulling him closer to you still; increasing your rocking, you’re chasing your own high when your knee brushes up against something hard, something big. When it jumps at your touch, you use your knee to stroke Pero’s length with every pass of your pussy over his thigh.

Your breasts now wet from Pero’s mouth, the cool night air’s chill against your skin causes you to tighten in Pero’s arms as he continues to electrify you with his hands, his mouth, his tongue, his words -

Never need to be jealous ever again, Dulce.

There’s only you.

Never want anyone else.

Don’t need anyone else.

You’re my everything.

Mine.

You come to his loving and possessive declarations, singing back your own - Yours, yours, yours. Body violently seizing and shuddering, Pero holds you close as you ride out your high. As you continue to buck against him, he crests to your desperate whimpers and breathless panting – his eyes never leaving your face, mesmerized by the sweet blissed out expression that he pulled from you. Finally opening your eyes, you grin lazily at the sight of your lover smiling at you, calming down from his own summit; and when you feel the dampness of his trousers against your bare knee, you giggle in pride and pull Pero back to you lips for a flutter of happy kisses. As he walks you to the door to the waiting room, you hardly give him a moment without a light peck on his lips, cheeks, neck – not sure you’ll be able to stand being apart from Pero for even a few hours of sleep.

Before he leaves you, Pero cups your face in his large hands, whispering against your lips, “I’m yours,” and you smile back and press your mouth to his before returning, “Mine.”

You marry at the end of the season in late June with the blessing of the Spanish king to do so in England. The ceremony itself is wonderful and your gown is gorgeous, but you hardly remember anything save for how handsome Pero looks waiting for you at the end of the aisle and how he and the Count both had tears in their eyes for most of the wedding. What you remember much more vividly is the fun you and your friends had when preparing for the nuptials. Days and nights filled with laughter, play fighting over flower arrangements, tearful promises to never let distance impact your friendship – you thank the Bridgertons over and over for their love and support during this season and bringing you to Pero; you can never repay them. When you board the ship to your new home, it’s not without tears as you say goodbye to your friends and father; everyone sends you off with mirroring sentiments and promises to visit soon.

If the Tovar estate servants had any concerns or misgivings about having a foreigner as mistress of the house, you soon win them over with your kind and gentle nature; your cheerful and easy-going demeanor overriding any language barrier, which with their help and your dedication, you were overcoming more and more every day. And if there were any remaining whispers, be they among the members of the Spanish court, villagers, or any one else, they were quickly quieted once the concerned party bore witness to the ferocity of your love for your husband and his obvious and complete devotion to you. The older house staff observed quite readily that they hadn’t seen the Barón smile as much as he did since he was a boy. The newer servants declared that prior to his marriage, they had not seen him smile at all.

One morning, only two months after landing in Spain, you wake to find yourself alone in bed for the first time since you and Pero got married. Deciding it unnecessary to ring for your ladies’ maid (Lucia, a delightful woman whose English was improving as much as your Spanish), you throw on a dressing robe over your night dress and pad downstairs, sure you’ll find your husband in the dining room having breakfast.

As usual, you’re right; for a few minutes you remain standing in the doorway, admiring your handsome hulk of a husband as he shovels the remainder of his breakfast into his mouth. You love the way he eats… everything - with voracity, unabashed hunger, like he can never get enough. Strolling in only when you see him push aside his empty plate in favour of a pile of letters and paperwork to begin reading, you thank the footman who had already seen you and plated you a warm breakfast, before you approach Pero’s chair. Dancing your fingers across his broad shoulders, you slide onto your husband’s lap before laying a soft morning kiss to his lips, “Buenos días, mi rey.”

“Buenos días, mi reina,” Pero kisses back, turning his full attention to you as he always does.

“Te echo de menos esta mañana (I missed you this morning),” you pout, although you’re not really upset with him in any way.

Pero smiles at you indulgently, “I thought you might like to get some extra sleep.” He nuzzles your ear and you can hear him smile, “Considered you might be tired after your activities last night, Baronesa.”

You giggle and pull him in for another kiss, your cheeks get hot just thinking about the multiple orgasms that Pero pulled from you with his talented fingers, mouth and cock; you purr back and pepper his scruff with kisses, “Very thoughtful of you, Barón.” Your eyes soften, “No me gusta despertar sin ti, Pero (I hate waking up without you, Pero).”

Pero kisses your temple, “My apologies, Dulce. How can I make it up to my pretty wife?”

You squirm in his lap; a thrill still runs through you when you hear him refer to you as his wife, and you start to plant breathy kisses to the spot right behind his ear that you know drives him crazy.

“Already? Is my wife so insatiable?” chuckles Pero, though his voice his has dropped to that low baritone register that makes your stomach flip. You nod into his neck and start to run your fingers through his soft curls, tugging impatiently at the ones at the base of his neck.

“Déjanos por favor (leave us please),” Pero calls out politely. The servants in the dining room leave at once and close the doors, some smirking - all the servants having gotten used to their master and new mistress’ voracious appetite for one another. The younger servants were mainly amused and some even found it romantic; the older servants acting scandalized, but secretly pleased to see such a happy marriage on the estate after so long.

“Sit up here, mi amor,” Pero pulls you off his lap gently and directs you up onto the dining room table; you move his papers aside and push his flatware out of the way. Teasing him, you quip, “I thought you already had breakfast, my lord?”

“I’m ready for seconds,” growls Pero as he pulls up his chair and seats himself between your legs. Licking his lips greedily, he unties your robe and peels it open to reveal your lacey nightgown underneath. Lifting up the skirt to reveal your already wet and waiting naked cunt, he murmurs, "Delicious," before lowering himself to meet you where you already need him so desperately. Aware that you might still be sensitive from the previous night’s sex, Pero is careful with you – his licks and strokes to your folds are gentle and slow, he mouths and sucks your clit with tenderness and reverence, and when he presses two, then three fingers into your tight hole, he does so with restrained worship. It’s only when you cry out for more, more, more, that he quickens his pace and fully presses his mouth to you, tongue tangling with your sensitive bud before nibbling it between his teeth. Your moans and debauched sounds of rapture have never been restrained in this house, your house – and you come with a desperate and enchanting scream befitting the blinding pleasure now electrifying your body.

Kissing up your nightgown and planting loving open mouth kisses to your breasts before letting you taste yourself, Pero licks into your mouth and whispers, “Te amo, mi reina,” before standing back to unlace his pants.

Your mouth waters as you watch your husband free his cock; no matter how many times you’ve taken him in your hands, your mouth, your cunt, you’re still in awe of its size and the things that Pero’s length can do to you. Whenever you feel the stretch of him entering you, you always recall the first time and how gentle he was as he pushed in. When you remember the tenderness in his voice and face as he made sure you were comfortable, putting your pleasure before his – your heart always blooms with overflowing love for this man. How did you get so lucky? Pero would of course always say that he’s the lucky one, and then show you just how deep his affection for you runs by thrusting with intensity, punching that spot inside that makes you see stars, over and over – the exact way he’s doing so now. “¡Cómo te amo, Pero!” you whimper again and again, and by the way he continues to drive into you, you know he believes you. Folding himself over you so that he can bury his face into your neck and nip at the delicate spot at the base, Pero's pants and groans have you arching your back and fisting his hair just for something to hold on to lest you float away.

“I’m close, Dulce. Come with me,” Pero growls, snaking a hand between your bodies and finding your clit with ease. Drawing quick circles over your swollen nub, you feel the coil beneath your belly tighten and tighten until it snaps and you throw you head back chanting your husband’s name as you fall over the cliff. Not far behind, Pero’s pace falters before he spills into you with a long and low grunt in your ear that shoots straight to where you’re joined as one.

Weak, limp and perfectly satisfied, you let Pero pull you into a sitting position and kiss him deeply and sweetly as both of your breaths start to even, the heaving of your chests slowing in unison.

Forehead resting against yours, Pero catches your still dazed eyes and gives a small nod towards the papers that had been pushed aside and forgotten, “Dulce, I’ve been charged with accompanying His Majesty’s naval fleet to Naples, Italy. Would you join me?”

Smiling because you know he already knows the answer, you nod, “Of course, mi amor. I’ll start making the necessary arrangements today.”

Pero tilts his head, eyes soft and reassuring, “Are you okay with leaving? We will have only been home for a few short months.”

Cupping your husband’s face in your hands, you gaze adoringly into his eyes, “My home is where you are, Pero.”

Pero closes his eyes and pulls you flush against him, with him still softening inside you, you’re as close as two people can be. He tips your face to his and whispers, “You’re my home, Dulce,” and all you can do is sigh in unsurpassable happiness as he presses his lips to yours once again.

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#pero tovar #regency!pero tovar #bridgerton au #pero tovar fic #pero tovar fanfiction #pero tovar smut #pero tovar series #pero tovar x you #pero tovar x f!reader #pero tovar x reader #pedro pascal characters fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #no y/n

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buckttommy · 2 months

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umm. pause. guys. guys. gay tommy has been canon this entire time. what the fuck. like. oh my god. no. like. okay. okay. so. 2x9 (hen begins), sal [deluca] is talking about his girlfriend dragging him to see twilight. he makes a homophobic joke about tommy being team jacob and tommy's like "i don't even know what that means." chimney says "he's insinuating that you're gay" and tommy blows deluca a kiss. fine. whatever. but THEN you skip to 2x12 (chimney begins), and—i stg it's a blink and you miss it moment—tommy and gerrard (racist captain) are having this conversation in the background

tommy: what about that burger place? gerrard: tommy i hate that place. hey wasn't your girlfriend supposed to come and cook us dinner? tommy: uhh. next tuesday. gerrard: promise? tommy: uhh. uh. yes. yeah. i will promise.

and it's like. number one, this sounds like a conversation they've had before. something to the tune of "hey, how come you never bring your girlfriend around" which i can't help but think was intentional considering the members of the old 118 were entirely familiar with deluca's girlfriend gina. but number two, no straight man who has a girlfriend sounds that unsure that they have a fucking girlfriend. it was very much giving "ah yes. this human lady that i love that most definitely exists. absolutely. also i like breasts." and it's just like. ok. what the fuck. like. i don't know if this was the plan all along. i don't think it was. i still maintain buck/eddie were supposed to go canon after the shooting and the powers that be got in the way. but. but. the idea that this canon queer character has been hiding in plain sight (subtext) is just. wild to me. like. i've always headcanoned tommy as gay, mostly because every character he plays seems fruity as hell. but bro. i don't think it's a headcanon anymore. and i don't think it ever has been. what the fuck.

there's also the idea that. like. so i've been watching the begins episodes again trying to figure out what, exactly, tommy's crime against the members of the 118 has been. like. he worked in a -phobic/-cist environment. he was definitely complicit in making hen/chimney feel like outsiders in their workplace yes yes all these things are true. but as far as i can tell, tommy has rarely ever actively been anything except spineless. deluca makes a homophobic joke? tommy laughs. gerrard makes a bunch of sexist and racist comments? tommy looks, but doesn't say anything to encourage (or discourage him). hen gives her monologue? he looks chagrined.

and his complicity would be absolutely shitty and inexcusable if he was just a cishet white man. no questions asked. but if — if — you view his behavior through the lens of the fact that tommy is queer himself? that tommy is, and always has been, a member of a marginalized community who felt it was easier and safer to assimilate than it was to be openly queer and have a target on his back? his behavior becomes a whole hell of a lot more understandable. yes, it's still shitty, but. there's a purpose behind it. and this idea is supported by the fact that, when gerrard leaves (flashing forward to bobby begins again), even before bobby gets there (because we always credit bobby with making the 118 the family it is today), like. the atmosphere is completely different. tommy and hen? are friendly with each other. chimney and tommy? also friendly with each other. which we also know because in 2x14 broken, he calls him up for help. which lends credibility to the idea that the problems tommy had (or thought he had) with henchim were not about them as people but more about whatever manufactured conservative boys club bullshit gerrard fostered.

and it's just like. motherfucker. bitch. what the hell. like. first of all, leave it to 9-1-1 to tell a story like this in the most subtle way possible. like if that was indeed the intended implication, i'm throwing my tv off a bridge immediately. but also. second of all. what is wrong with this show. they're crazy. i want to eat it like a loaf of bread. just shovel it in my mouth because the idea that tommy has been queer all along, that he wasn't brought back just to be a stopgap on buck's queer journey to eddie, but that he's been haunting the edges of the narrative like a gay ghost is sooo like. ohhh. okay. [throws up]. like????? okay. anyway. i'm going to be thinking about this the rest of the day.

#tommy kinard #head in hands.....................HEAD IN HANDS #tv: 911 #jack.txt #There's also something to be said about the idea of FOX main characterizing Buck/Oliver #around the same time they put a stop to Buddie #Something about like. Conventionally attractive (dark hair / light eyes) white men are not allowed to be loudly quee #and like. I KNEW there was something there #I knew it. And I love Michael and David and Karen and Hen don't get me wrong #those are my emotional support gays #but I was just like ''hm. kind of funny how every queer character connected to the mains is a person of color right?''#and I never vocalized this thought to ANYONE but I always kept it in the back of my mind #even the men michael would be seen with *before* David — always black #and there's nothing wrong with it it's fine #but the idea becomes a LOT more insidious when I consider FOX's politics—when i consider that both racism and homophobia are inherent to #their brand. and then it's just like ''ohh. you guys made the black people dirty queers because white is right. okay got it''#anyways. let me stop talking. lol

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diazsdimples · 2 months

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Tease Tidbit Tuesday

I'm getting to everyone's snippets tonight, I promise! I'm a few days behind cause lectures have just started up again 😬 tagged for Tuesday by @thewolvesof1998 and @elvensorceress thank you friends 🫶. Also I'm updating my taglist for the first time ever so please interact with this post if you want to be on it!

Figured I should probably get cracking on my 7x06 spec fic before the episode comes out so please enjoy a bit of Buck getting roasted by his best friend and boyfriend.

Eddie frowns, looking a little confused. “I thought you guys were all good?” “We are,” Buck replies, his eyes never leaving his parents as he watches them greet guests, both looking the brightest and bubbliest he’s seen them in years. From afar he’s sure they look like a regular, happy older couple enjoying their daughter’s wedding, but Buck can’t hide the way seeing them still makes his gut twist uncomfortably. Tommy snorts beside him, bringing him back to reality. “Except Evan decided it was a good idea not to mention me until today” Eddie does a little double take, his eyebrows shooting up into his hairline. “Wait, you haven’t told them yet?” “I’m gonna go find Denny,” Christopher announces, bored of listening to the adults. “Is that okay, Dad?” “Yeah, of course bud. See you in a bit,” Eddie says, ruffling Christopher’s hair. The three of them watch as he shoots off, making his way towards Hen, Karen and Denny as fast as his legs can carry him. When he’s safely out of earshot, Eddie rounds on Buck again, fixing him with an incredulous look. “Seriously, Buck, in what world did you think springing this on them today was a good idea?” “That’s what I said!” Tommy says, flicking Buck a smirk as he squeezes his side. “Hey, you’re meant to be on my side!” Buck protests, elbowing Tommy in the ribs, but it’s all forgiven when Tommy brushes a light kiss against Buck’s temple. “And I didn’t want to tell them in person, I thought doing it like this would be… easier,” Buck finishes lamely, aware of how delusional he’s sounding. “Uh huh, cause telling your parents big, life changing things has always been easy in person hasn’t it,” Eddie deadpans, crossing his arms over his chest and raising his eyebrow at Buck in a way that screams you’re an idiot and you know it. “Listen, I wasn’t exactly thinking -” “Clearly,” Tommy and Eddie say in unison, turning to one another with shit-eating grins as Buck gives them both a flat look, before continuing. “- but, I didn’t want them to gripe at me and say they would have rather heard it face to face than from behind a phone.” “I think they probably would have had a go at you either way, honestly,” Eddie says with a sympathetic shrug, and he reaches over to squeeze Buck’s shoulder. Buck sighs and burrows closer into Tommy’s side, resting his head on his boyfriend’s shoulder. Tommy runs his hand down Buck’s spine, rubbing at each spinous process as he encourages Buck to relax. Buck softens a little, biting back a whine as Tommy nuzzles his nose against Buck’s hairline. “You’re probably right,” he admits with a sigh. He’d really wanted nothing more than to heal his relationship with his parents but turns out it takes more than a little lightning strike and some shitty therapy sessions to mend years of trauma.

No pressure tagging @theotherbuckley @hippolotamus @watchyourbuck @bidisasterevankinard @neverevan

@babybibuck @fortheloveofbuddie @spotsandsocks @aroeddiediaz @daffi-990

@jesuisici33 @steadfastsaturnsrings @wikiangela @bibuckbuckgoose @exhuastedpigeon

@cal-daisies-and-briars @wildlife4life @slightlyobsessedwitheverything @evanbegins @nmcggg

@alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @weewootruck @rainbow-nerdss @kitteneddiediaz @epicbuddieficrecs

@smilingbuckley @actuallyitsellie @spagheddiediaz @loserdiaz @thekristen999

@loveyouanyway (Remember to interact with this post if you want to be on my taglist and lmk if you want to be removed)

#james writes #7x06 spec fic #bucktommy wedding fic #bucktommy #bucktommy wip #tevan #kinkley #tuck #911 abc #evan buckley #buddie #eddie diaz #911 buddie #911 fanfic #911

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drakoneve · 9 months

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Long Run

request: Just something cute and sweet for tig with a gn reader, please? Anything, bro I'm starved.

pairing: Tig Trager x gn!reader

word count: 600+

warnings: mention of a cartel? typical club shit

a/n: I LOVVVEEEEE this man <333

Three years into your relationship with Tig, you should be more than used to long club runs. And, for the most part, you handled the separation well.

You could keep yourself busy with work, chores, and upkeep at the clubhouse with Gemma and Tara while the boys were gone but this work would only last so long.

Tiggy kept in contact as much as he could on the road with calling in between stops and in the evenings while on your drive home. There was the old "what happens on the road stays on the road" club rule, but since the beginning of your relationship Tig made a promise to be loyal to you and he'd yet to break it.

You'd known his reputation with men and women of loving and leaving them before ever getting involved with him, and so you'd made him promise.

This run is different, however.

The club made a special trip to Santo Padre on a favor to Marcus Alvares to help the local Mayans in town handle some cartel business, and before anyone knew it their one week in Santo Padre had turned into three.

It's why tonight you sat alone in the home you shared with Tig, cuddled up in blankets on his side of the bed watching old Criminal Minds reruns.

Being on his side of the bed, resting your head on the pillow seeming infused with Tig's favorite cologne (the one you'd been getting him since your first anniversary together), brought you the comfort of Tig while he was gone.

After several episodes and half a bag of popcorn later you'd finally begun to dose off when you heard it... the soft rumblings of an approaching motorcycle.

Out of habit you reached for the spare gun in the drawer of Tig's nightstand. Before him you had never shot a gun, but after the incident with Tara and Margaret being kidnapped incited Tig to teach you to defend yourself, which meant being able to use a gun if necessary.

You crept your way into the living room to peek out from behind the window curtains to see exactly who it was pulling up in your driveway.

Even though his helmet covered most of his hair, you could see Tig's small curls poking out the bottom, unruly as ever. He shuts his bike off and begins to remove his helmet and you decide you just can't take it anymore.

You abandon the gun in your hand on one of the couch end tables before heading out the door, barefoot and wearing one of Tig's shirts.

Tig raises his head when he hears the door, confused at first, but his gorgeous smile overtakes him as he realizes it's you coming for him.

You go as fast as your legs will carry you, throwing yourself against Tig's broad chest and wrapping your arms around his torso. His arms follow suit, wrapping around you and pulling you up off the ground for a moment before setting you back down, yet his arms don't release you.

"What are you doin' awake at this hour, baby?" he asks, voice muffled in your hair as he breathes you in. "You've got work tomorrow. Well, today, actually."

"Missed you," you confessed into his chest. Finally you bring yourself to pull away slightly, taking in Tig's face.

The bags under his eyes were slightly more defined than when you last saw him, but his blues sparkled down at you with excitement.

"You've been gone far too long, Tiggy," you scold playfully. "I don't think I'm letting you leave me ever again. I don't like it."

His blue eyes flicker over your face as his hands cup either side. "I don't wanna be away from you either, baby. You're everything."

Tig pulls you into a soft kiss. He never moves his hands from your face as he pulls away just slightly, resting his forehead against your own.

"Let's go inside, doll." Tig peppers kisses across your face. "I'm in desperate need of some lovin' from my baby, okay?"

"Mmm," you hum, unable to stop the smile spreading across your face. "I can't exactly say 'no' to that, can I?"

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piratekane · 1 month

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what r some of ur fav kacy moments?

a FANTASTIC question. here's a top ten in no particular order:

the parking lot scene. kate is not the bad guy! let's kiss under the parking lot lights! they did not go get that beer and i love that for them.

that one scene in season 3 where kate is bringing ernie mochi and lucy says that kate is looking fantastic today. something about that whole interaction just... got me. the grin on lucy's face. the way kate smiles back over her shoulder. pls tell me about your acting choices and why they made that 15 second scene endearing.

first date reenactment. those freakin dorks, i swear to god. kate's "well, i don't seem like a lot of things" lives rent-free in my head.

OF COURSE the scene in 3x04 where they have to dip into that storeroom to avoid the bad guy and they're, like, 2 inches away from each other. maybe i've watched that a few times.

the first kiss in the pilot. i'm split equally between the original airing with the smash cut kiss and the extended scene because i originally thought that lucy initiated the kiss, but finding out that kate was the one... mind-blowing.

the 2x01 episode kisses (plural!) because i love domestic kacy. i could write about that allllll day. i was not expecting lucy to straight up (ha) get into kate's lap at the outro of that episode. sigh. that was such an opening episode.

kate waiting at lucy's desk in 1x10 after the whole finger business. i just loved how kate said she was more comfortable with things at dinner and then just casually sits at lucy's desk waiting for her to come back (which is why 1x11 is so fucking crushing).

the scene in that episode in season 2 where lucy is helping Joe, the sailor with the memory problem. and joe elbows her in the jaw and lucy and kate are in the kitchen in the office and kate is snippy because she's worried. i'm not mad kate says, definitely not happy.

and speaking of lucy being beat up... the scene in 1x07 (? maybe) where lucy agrees that secrets can be fun and kate ducks her head and says something like, "want to tell me more about secerts" or whatever (i am not searching for the lingo, sorry). like, goodness. kate. relax.

the 'move in' scene where kate is so far behind on the conversation and she's just blinking as lucy explodes. i love a good "why are we fighting?" "we're not!" in shouty volumes and then the break in the tension where they realize they're definitely arguing scene. and they did this one perfectly.

okay, that was a nice little walk through my mind. now i need to go watch all these scenes (shoutout to the people who upload their scenes to youtube, they're the real ones).

#kacy #ncis: hawai'i #this was fun to think about thank you anon #now i want to go watch them and write them and i am a little sad again but i will go do something else #maybe read

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thekatebridgerton · 23 days

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Today on another episode of stories I'm too sleep deprived to write: Jekyll and Hyde Bridgerton boys au

Since the Bridgerton boys tend to get so bipolar around their love interest, what if it was actually a day/night curse that only true love can... blend in.

Take Anthony, Benedict and Colin, respectable gentlemen by day, rakes by night.

During daylight, Anthony is respectfully courting Edwina and trading barbs with Kate, but during any night time ball he's cornering Kate in dark libraries and whispering sensually in her ear about all the things he wants to do to her. Kate finds him distasteful at first, easily cluing in that during daylight hours, Anthony is too rational to attempt to seduce her, and running away from him during night time balls, but his changes in mood are getting out of hand, she's taken to staying at home for the past number of balls and Edwina swears that Viscount Bridgerton is beginning to scare her. The less of Kate he sees at night, the more his ungentleman side wants to have her. And Kate is running out of options to avoid him, she's falling for him and if she doesn't do something drastic she's going to end up ruined, or worse, married to the insufferable man, so in a last ditch attempt to save herself she's just announced she's going to India... Now Anthony's unrestrained side has started blending in with his good one in an attempt to stop Kate from leaving him and it's not good, not good at all

Benedict thought he was spared the most unsavory sides of the curse, some night time debauchery here and there was a small price to pay for keeping his reputation as the ton's darling. That until he met the lady in silver, and for the first time the wild side of the curse got out of control. The one that got away drove his nocturnal self mad with want. For 2 years he fought against it only for Sophie Beckett to bring it out of him more strongly than before. Sophie Beckett isn't scared of anything, she should be scared of Benedict, who gets her a job in the morning, then demands she be his mistress at night. But she's figured that even at his worst she can push him back and he won't hurt her. Sure he's determined to help her establish herself independently during daylight and demands she depend only on him during his nighttime adventures, but Sophie is strong, she's dealt with worse. At least until gentlemen daylight Benedict starts seducing her in a very rakish way. And wild untamed nighttime Benedict starts romancing her like a gentleman in love

Colin... Well Colin has always known he's cursed. He learned to work around it, keeping his darker nature under control with decadent food and debauched travels and the occasional gambling. Until Penelope Featherington asked his nighttime self for a kiss and got in the way of his neatly laid plans. Penelope is clever, too clever, his daylight self might hate her, but oh his nighttime self can't live without her and she thrives on it. Truly it irks Colin to know that she prefers him at his worst during the night and rejects his at his best during daylight. She with her lady Whistledown secrets, smiling as she indulges his every hungry whim during secret nighttime meetings and then pretends the man she's taken for lover is not Colin Bridgerton. If she didn't frustrate him so, he might think himself inlove with her. Penelope Featherington knows Colin's secret, truthfully she doesn't mind if he knows hers, as lady Whistledown its only fair that he knows she can ruin his life if he dares to ruin hers. His nighttime self is fun, savage, and completely enamored with her body, nothing like daylight Colin. Penelope adores that side of him. Part of her doesn't even want to admit they're the same person because Daylight Colin is the popular charmer of the ton who can't even look her in the eye and calls her his dear friend. But nighttime Colin is hers and he doesn't demand anything out of her as her lover, truly its the best arrangement in the world... That is until an overprotective Colin Bridgerton ravishes her in a carriage and proposes marriage in front of all her family, all in the same morning. Could it be his two personalities are blending??

And Gregory Bridgerton, he's seventeen and afraid, very afraid about when he'll reach a point where his curse will be triggered and what that will mean for his best friend Lucy Abernathy. Because Greg knows he's going to respect Lucy till the day he dies, but he also knows he can't live without her and he can almost feel the want in his bones, how little it would take for his Lucy to be his undoing and the reason he needs to lock himself up at night... It's going to happen eventually but Gregory hopes it takes longer than a few years, for Lucy's sake and for his own.

#bridgerton #polin #kanthony #benophie #Bridgerton au #anthony bridgerton #kate sharma #benedict bridgerton #sophie beckett #penelope fetherington #colin bridgerton #'magic' bipolar au #the girl Bridgertons lose rationality full time when meeting their true love and that's their curse

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lionlena · 16 days

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Together in happiness and depression… (no outbreak!JoelMillerxreader) one shot

Partially inspired by the Joel bot I created, partially by what I feel right now.

Summary: Joel is there for you as you go through another episode of depression.

Warnings: depression, disturbing thoughts, anxiety, low self-esteem, self-degradation, sadness, fears, hurt/comfort

Together in happiness and depression

Now I'm slowly sinking, caving, try to fight it

but I can't breathe

Chest is heavy, hands are numb,

I'm tired but I can't sleep

Choking on my own pride my tongue is tied and now

I find myself reaching out for help

I could really use your help right now

You were lying on the couch and staring blankly at the TV. It didn't really matter what you were watching. It doesn't matter if it was an action movie or a documentary about a desert spider. Everything looked the same to you anyway. Your mind was empty and full of thoughts at the same time. When you heard the sound of the door opening and heavy footsteps, your heart trembled. You suddenly realize how much time you had wasted just lying on the couch. Unless Joel came back early, but you knew that was unlikely. You wanted to get up and greet him with a happy smile and a warm dinner, but... You were a failure. At least that's how you felt.

Joel walked over to you and knelt down next to the couch. His large, warm hand rested on your shoulder. This wasn't the first episode of depression you two had gone through together, so he wasn't surprised by your condition.

"Hey, baby girl." He said it so gently and softly that it almost didn't sound like his own voice. "How do you feel?"

You just shrugged because you couldn't find the answer to this question. You just felt empty. Joel simply nodded, trying to understand you.

"Have you eaten anything today?"

His question made you realize that no, you hadn't eaten anything, but you weren't hungry either. But what stuck out to you was that he must have been hungry too, and you had failed him.

"I'm sorry…" You croaked, tears immediately forming in your eyes.

Joel couldn't bear your pain any longer. He pulled you into a sitting position, sitting next to you and pulling you into his strong chest. You buried your face in his shirt and cried.

"Shhh, shhh, I'm here. You hear me, I won't leave you."

You squeezed him tighter and began to blurt out everything.

"I'm sorry... I'm a failure... I can't do anything. Why do you care about me? I'm no good for anything..."

Joel sighed softly and hugged you even tighter. You didn't realize how much what you said hurt him.

"Don't say that. Don't. Don't you dare say that." There was desperation in his voice. "I don't know why you doubt yourself. To me, you are the most valuable person in the world. You don't have to be good at anything. Just let me take care of you when you feel like this."

You wanted his words to bring you comfort, but you couldn't stop all the destructive thoughts in your head and you started crying.

"I don't know... I just... feel so... Not feminine enough... All these tradwives on TikTok... They look so perfect, they take care of the house and the kids... and I... sometimes I have trouble washing the dishes... I feel I felt so numb and tired..."

Joel started stroking your hair and gently kissed your temple. Seeing you like this broke his heart. When he saw you so full of doubt and so vulnerable, he wanted to do everything for you. He wanted to show how much he loved you and that you had nothing to worry about because to him you were perfect.

"Y/n…" He placed his lips next to your ear. "Hey, they're not you. I don't want these TikTok tradwives. I want YOU. With all your imperfections and charms. I don't care if you wash the dishes late or don't do it at all. I don't care if my dinner is not ready. I love you too much to pay attention to it. Believe that you are enough for me just as you are."

You closed your eyes for a moment and kissed his neck. You wanted to show him at least a little affection for everything he did for you.

"I don't deserve you..."

"Shhh... Shhh…" Joel took your head in his hands and kissed your forehead. "Don't say that. I don't tolerate such nonsense. I'm telling you, I love you too much."

You took a deep breath and pushed your nose into his neck again. You didn't care that he came home from work dirty and sweaty, his masculine scent slowly calmed you down and soothed your nerves. Even though you knew your improvement was temporary, you wanted to enjoy it.

You sat together in silence for a few minutes. Joel stroked your hair and kissed your head. When he sensed that you were calmer, he gently pushed you away from him.

"Lay down, honey, and I'll quickly prepare dinner. After all, we both need to eat something."

You had neither the strength nor the desire to argue with him. You also didn't want to tell him that you still weren't really hungry. You knew Joel was desperate to take care of you and get you better. So you forced a small smile and nodded.

"Okay."

Joel stood up and kissed your head one more time before going to the kitchen. Fifteen minutes later, the delicious smell of fried chicken and mashed potatoes could be smelled from the kitchen. Joel hummed softly to himself as he worked quickly and efficiently. He finally emerged from the kitchen with two plates of food. He placed the plates on the coffee table and returned to the kitchen to get the wine. He opened the wine and returned to you. He sat down on the couch, and when you got up and sat next to him, he gave you a warm smile.

"I hope you're hungry. I made you some fried chicken and mashed potatoes. I also brought some wine. Let's watch something, drink some wine, and eat together..."

You looked nostalgically at everything he had prepared. You tried to suppress the guilt you felt and the malicious voices in your head. A small smile appeared on your lips. No matter how depressed you were, Joel's care and attention created a pleasant, fleeting warmth.

"Thank you, babe."

Joel felt proud that his actions had not been in vain. He kissed your cheek, poured two glasses of wine, and handed you one. He sat down close to you so that your shoulders were touching. He turned on the TV and selected a random action movie.

You didn't want to worry him and started eating dinner. After a few bites, the knot in your stomach began to loosen and you realized that you were hungry after all. Joel didn't say anything, but he was happy to see that you enjoyed the food and wine.

When you finished eating, he didn't even bother taking the plates to the sink. He didn't want to leave you. He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you to him, looking at you with love. For the next half hour, you tried to focus on the warmth radiating from his body and the movie he had selected, but your disturbing thoughts always tended to attack you by surprise when you thought you had already achieved mental balance.

You looked at Joel and saw the tiredness on his face. Was he just tired from work or... Depressing thoughts flooded your mind again. Your eyes filled with tears and before you could stop them, they were already rolling down your cheek.

Joel was about to ask you if you needed anything, but he felt your mood suddenly change. He looked at you worriedly and grabbed your hand. He looked you straight in the eye and used that incredibly gentle voice again.

"What happened, sweetie? What changed your mood? You know you can tell me anything."

You shrugged and took a shaky breath.

"I don't know… Sometimes I can't explain it. It's so stupid and frustrating... You did all this for me... Dinner, wine, and I... I have these thoughts again... That I'm just not worthy of this all and one day you'll be tired with it... with my depression..."

Joel gently took your hands and kept his eyes on you. His brown eyes were filled with love and compassion

"You have to fight these thoughts, honey. These are false and stupid thoughts. I can promise you one thing. I will never get tired of you and your depression will never be too much for me. Understand me? I will be with you when you are happy, and I will be with you when depression comes and does not go away for months. I will do everything to help you and get you out of this hole."

You nodded and wiped your tears. You rested your head on his shoulder and sighed. You wanted to tell him so much how much you loved him and how grateful you were to him, but you couldn't find the words. So you just squeezed his hand, hoping he would understand.

Joel smiled as he felt you squeeze his hand and he kissed your head gently. He pulled you into his lap and wrapped his arms tightly around you. The feeling of your warm body so close to him and the feeling that you opened up to him and loved him was all he needed.

He kissed your head again and said softly.

"I love you. Please don't ever doubt it. Don't give in to bad thoughts.”

You calmed down a bit and replied:

"I love you too."

You rested your entire body on his chest and closed your eyes. His calm breathing was so comforting to you.

"Sleep, my love... Or cry... Or be silent. It doesn't matter, as long as you are close to me, I will be everything you need and you can be sure that your depression will not defeat me and one day I will put a wedding ring on your finger."

He began humming softly and rocking you in his arms, and you sank into this warm, safe bubble of love he was creating for you. And even though you still struggled with your depression, you were sure that as long as you had Joel, you would never fight alone.

Help, I could really use your help right now

Falling under and I don't know how

Help, I could really use your help right now

Fight or flight, I feel I don't know how

To stand on my own or which way to go

*Anna Clendening - Help

I love these days when nothing bad happens but I just feel depressed and all I want to do is cry and sleep. And I'm frustrated because I can't logically explain why I feel this way. Why does my mind suddenly decide to turn off all positive thoughts and feelings 🥺

I need Joel or Marcus... Or Oberyn... Javier...

Pernament tag list: @harriedandharassed

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction #joel miller #the last of us #angst #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #tlou fanfiction #hurt/comfort #kinda depressing #depression

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rhoorl · 26 days

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Delta Landscaping | Chapter 17: Cousin Joel

Series Masterlist | Chapter 17 A03 Link 323 Mulefall Crt Chapter One: Monday (by @trulybetty)

Word Count: 7k

A/N: This is probably the chapter I’ve been the most excited about. In case you missed it, the Delta Landscaping universe is expanding. @trulybetty and I have been collaborating behind the scenes for months on this companion series. More to come at the end!

Previously on As the Mule Falls: Benny featured heavily as the boys continued to get him ready for fight night. The neighbors hosted a party at Lucille’s house to welcome the Pikes and Vanessa to the neighborhood. Benny and Vanessa finally kissed, which was inadvertently live-streamed via the Pike’s Ring doorbell camera.

In this Episode: If this were an actual TV show, this would be the episode when that special guest star they’d been teasing all season finally shows up. dun dun dun Cousin Joel finally arrives. Before we get to him though, there’s some Benny and Vanessa to get through. Then we have the boys at the gym and enjoying a meal together. Thoughts on which neighbor Joel meets first?

Chapter Warnings: Cousin Joel. I’ve edged you for months with his arrival and he’s finally here. Other warnings - mention of hangovers, children, flustered Benny, the boys at the gym, swearing, and more food. Also, David. But, you should already that by now.

*Cue the theme music and roll opening credits*

Five Days to Fight Night

Marcus groaned as he heard Mariella flopping around in her crib through the baby monitor. He could already feel the pounding headache starting despite preemptively taking some Tylenol last night.

Next to him, Victoria rubbed her eyes. “I'm never drinking again,” she groaned.

With a chuckle, Marcus leaned over and kissed her forehead. “Get some rest sweetheart, I'll get the kids up. Don't worry about today. Stay home. Vandy and I can take them to the aquarium.”

“Oh shit, that was today, ughhh. I'm the worst mom ever.” She flipped on her stomach, burying her head into the pillow.

“Baby, you're not the worst. You're just a mom with a hangover. Just sit tight, I'll bring you some coffee soon.”

“Can you just pluck my eyeballs out instead, they're throbbing,” she whined.

“Hangovers are a bit different than in your 20s huh?” He smirked. “I'll be back, mi amor.”

Victoria looked up, squinting as she watched her husband throw on a pair of thin gray sweatpants. “I love you.”

He paused as he fed his arms through his faded Washington Capitals T-shirt sleeves. “I love you too. As much as I love seeing you like this,” his eyebrow twitched as his eyes dragged down her body, appreciating how little of the comforter was covering her naked form, “you should probably throw some clothes on in case you get an unexpected visitor.”

Vanessa padded down the stairs to the smell of coffee and pancakes as Disney Junior played softly on the TV. She was still on cloud nine from her kiss with Benny after he walked her home last night.

She rounded the corner to the kitchen and leaned against the wall, a soft smile across her face as she watched Marcus. He hummed a tune to himself as he cut up strawberries for Mariella, swaying to whatever imaginary beat he was playing in his head. It was in these small moments that Vanessa appreciated her brother-in-law even more; he was her standard for what a father and husband should be.

Sensing someone behind him, Marcus turned around slowly before a giant smile flashed across his face realizing who it was. “Oh hey, Vandy! You have a good walk home last night? Benny get you back here ok?” He tried to suppress his grin, eyes following Vanessa as she walked over to the coffee pot. Her cheeks flushed, remembering the way her and Benny's tongues tangled together.

“He did, it was a good…walk,” she cleared her throat. “Where's Vic?”

“Your sister is nursing what she calls ‘the world's worst hangover’ so she's still in bed,” Marcus said as he flipped a pancake. “Looks like it's just you and me taking them to the aquarium today,” he nodded toward the living room.

“Buck, you're probably not feeling too hot either, you guys got back late. You can stay, I'll take them. Besides, I'm sure having hours to yourselves with an empty house will perk Vic right on up,” she snorted as she sipped her coffee.

Marcus shifted his weight to one leg, drumming his fingers along the quartz countertop. Vanessa had a point. He did have a splitting headache and would much rather spend a lazy day in bed with his wife than surrounded by people.

“You make a compelling case…you sure you're ok taking both of them on your own?” He looked over at Vanessa who nodded with a tight smile. She was an amazing aunt and the kids adored her, but he knew she got anxious doing things alone with them in public. Suddenly, a lightbulb went off. “Hey, I know…why don't you ask Benny to go with you?”

“Bunny?! I see Bunny?” Mariella screamed from her high chair, clapping her little hands.

“Umm…we'll see Mari,” Vanessa called over before she turned to Marcus. “She has superhero hearing I swear,” she whispered.

“Only when it suits her,” Marcus winked.

“You put me in a real bind here, Buck. She's going to be so disappointed.”

“Just ask, I'm sure he'll say yes,” he avoided her gaze as he put some pancakes on a plate for her.

“I'm sure he has plenty of better things to do on a Sunday than spend it with two kids at an aquarium,” Vanessa rolled her eyes, pouring syrup over her neatly formed stack.

“Yeah but you'll be there…c'mon just try, give him a call…pleaaaase,” he pouted. “Do it for Mari.’

“That's downright cruel you know, using your daughter like that,” she narrowed her eyes with one hand on her hip.

Marcus threw his hands up in surrender, “you'll thank me later.”

Vanessa took a deep breath as she eyed her phone.

Will couldn't help but grin when Benny trudged into the kitchen, tossing his phone on the counter and running a hand through his hair. He’d been debating texting Vanessa good morning but didn’t want to seem too eager.

“How was the rest of your night?”

Benny's eyes narrowed. Will was a morning person, sure, but he was a bit too chipper. “Good…just walked Vanessa home.”

“How'd that go? Made sure she got there safe and sound?” Will winked.

Benny was thankful to have his back to his brother as he poured his coffee. He blushed remembering their kiss…and what he did once he got home.

“Speak of the devil, look who's calling,” Will picked up Benny's phone from the counter and handed it to his brother, eyeing him as he listened to one side of the conversation.

Benny shifted from one foot to the other as he talked to Vanessa. He sported a toothy grin as he rubbed the back of his neck, occasionally breaking into some nervous laughter.

“I really don't mind…when do we leave…ok I'll be there. See you soon.” He stared at his phone as he hung up.

“Sooo?”

Benny told him about how the Pikes were nursing hangovers and that the kids were supposed to go to the aquarium today. He noted that Vanessa sounded nervous to ask him to go with her, but he accepted before she could get it out.

“Wow, I know you like kids but damn, she must really be special,” Will chuckled.

Victoria managed to get herself out of bed in time to help change the kids into their marine-themed outfits and pack their bags. She sat on the couch fussing with Mariella to get her little curls into pigtails when Marcus walked by, arms flexed while carrying a folded stroller.

“Babe, I’m going to go put this in Vandy’s car and then I’ll come back to load up the bags.”

“Ok…looking good there Agent Pike,” she winked as he rolled his eyes, even though his chest puffed out at her praise. If there was one thing about Victoria, she always made sure Marcus knew how much she appreciated him in all aspects.

As Marcus closed the trunk of Vanessa’s SUV he heard heavy footsteps behind him, turning in time to see Benny walking up the driveway.

“Oh hey man,” Marcus waved.

“Hey! How’re you feeling?” Benny shook Marcus’ outstretched hand.

“Killer headache, but I’m in better shape than Vic. Thanks for going with Vandy, means a lot that she won’t have to go by herself,” Marcus smiled.

“Course, it’s going to be fun…need help loading anything else up?”

“Nah, all good. Just have to get Nico and corral Hurricane Mari, but it’ll help now that you’re here. She may listen to you. C’mon, come inside.”

Benny and Marcus walked over the threshold just as Vanessa came down the stairs. She was dressed in a simple black athletic dress and sneakers. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail with a Tampa Bay Rays baseball cap. Benny’s eyes trailed down her neck to her exposed collarbone, involuntarily licking his lips as he remembered kissing it mere hours ago.

Vanessa paused when she saw Benny, amazed at how made the most casual outfit look so good. He paired a tie-dyed “Miller Contracting” T-shirt with a simple pair of slate gray shorts. His hair was still damp, he clearly took a quick shower before coming over. He passed his baseball cap between his hands as he looked at her, his eyebrows doing that little puppy dog look that always made her melt.

“Bunny!” Mariella squealed, getting herself down from the couch and scurrying over to Benny who quickly picked her up and tossed her in the air to a fit of giggles.

“Hey baby girl, you excited to go see some fishies?”

Mariella babbled on as Marcus and Victoria gathered everything and Vanessa got her crossbody and keys. Nico looked on a bit shy as he packed up his tablet and headphones into his backpack

“Hey bud,” Benny bent down on one knee, Mariella clutching his side. “I'm excited to hang out with you today.”

Nico smiled and Vanessa’s heart skipped a beat. She knew she was getting ahead of herself, but she couldn't help the butterflies seeing how seamlessly Benny fit into her family.

Walking up to Benny, she quickly hugged him and kissed him on the cheek, “It’s not too late if you want to back out,” she whispered.

“Nah, you’re stuck with me,” he winked. “Besides, I’ve always wanted to go to this aquarium, just didn't wanna go by myself.”

With a wave to Marcus and Vanessa, they were off. Benny offered to drive, but Vanessa politely declined, saying she needed him on entertainment duty should Mariella grow tired of her tablet.

They seemed to hit every red light on the way to the interstate, but it gave Benny and Vanessa a chance to steal glances at each other. At one particularly long light, she looked over and noticed his hand twitch before covering it with his other hand in his lap.

“Everything ok?” She asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Hmm? Oh yeah… it’s just…” He didn't want to admit how nervous, but excited he was. “I haven't told you yet, but you look really pretty today.” He swallowed hard.

Vanessa was thankful the light turned green, so she could face forward and try to cover the fact that she was starting to blush. “Well, thank you. You look pretty good today yourself.”

“Thanks.”

She placed her hand on the gear changer, seeing out of the corner of her eye that he was looking at her hand. Deciding to just go for it, she moved her hand to grab his, which he eagerly took. He brought their joined hands up to his lips, kissing the back of her hand, and then moved to each knuckle. They stayed like that for a while before Benny dropped her hand so he could rest his on her thigh. The contact sent an electric pulse down Vanessa's spine.

David: How's everyone feeling? Just came back from a run and everyone looks to still be sleeping.

Melissa: How are you even up right now? My head feels like it’s in a vice 😩

Ty: He got up at 6. He's unfazed

David: I feel fantastic!

David: Thoughts on inviting Tori and Ness to this group chat?

Megan: Already have nicknames for them huh? 😆 But I vote yes, they're fun!

Ty: Agreed, they're fun. Ness is so sweet, I'm trying to see if I can help her find a job.

Olivia: That's so sweet of you Ty!

Lucille: She and Benny are so sweet.

Oliva: They’re so cute!! 😍

David: Who's going to be the one to spill that we all watched them kiss?

Ty: I feel like we know *cough* Liv

Oliva: Hey!

Katie: Aw guys, we can’t say anything. They're going to be so embarrassed if they find out! I swore Will to secrecy

Ty: You hear that babe? Zip it.

David: Alexa play Our Lips Are Sealed

“Aaaand we're here! Sit tight while Bunny and I load up ok?” Vanessa looked back at her niece and nephew who nodded enthusiastically.

She popped her trunk open and got out, slipping on her crossbody before making her way around to the back of her SUV. There, she saw Benny busying himself with unloading the stroller, struggling with how to unfold it.

“Here, it’s just…this latch right here,” she pointed.

She used her sunglasses as a cover to admire how Benny’s forearms flexed as he undid the latch and opened up the stroller before going to help get Mariella out of her car seat. The toddler protested a bit when Benny tried to put her in her stroller. Vanessa couldn't help but laugh, realizing that Benny was going to get a full dose of headstrong Mariella today.

“Bunny, no…uppies! Uppies peeeease!” She pleaded, raising her hands toward him.

Vanessa was about to step in when Benny put his hand up to stop her and turned his attention to Mariella. “Baby girl, how about this. When we get inside the aquarium you get allll the uppies you want. But right now when we’re in the parking lot, can you go in the stroller for me? Please?”

The little girl twisted her face as she processed what he said before finally pointing to her stroller. Benny pulled out some Goldfish crackers from the lunchbox, placing some on the tray in front of Mariella who clapped and eagerly started shoveling them into her mouth.

“Dang, Goldfish crackers at an aquarium. Your sister is hardcore,” Benny quipped as he started walking with the stroller.

Vanessa giggled. “You’re kind of a natural at this, you have any kids I should know about?” She side-eyed him with a smirk as she and Nico walked hand-in-hand towards the entrance.

Benny brushed his hair back and put on his hat. “Nah, I don't have any kids. I do have a niece though. Well, she's technically not my niece, she's my cousin Joel’s daughter, Sarah…she made me this shirt,” he proudly showed it off. “I lived with Joel for a bit when she was a toddler. I dunno, being around Mari reminds me of those times.”

“Well, you're a natural,” Vanessa smiled, noticing how his face lit up when he talked about Sarah.

They walked the rest of the way in comfortable silence, making the queue to purchase tickets. Despite her protest, Benny insisted on paying for everyone and stopping to take the commemorative photo at the entrance. As soon as they scanned their tickets, Mariella put her hands up and made a grabby motion with her tiny hands.

“You have a good memory,” Benny chuckled as he picked her up. “C'mon let’s go explore huh?”

Vanessa noticed that every time they stepped foot into a new room Benny quickly scanned the space to identify all of the exits. Although it broke her heart that being on alert was second nature to him, it did make her feel safe. Outside of Marcus, she had never felt safer with another man than Benny. It definitely helped ease her anxiety about going out with Mariella and Nico alone.

Benny was so patient with the kids. Mariella clutched at his side like a baby koala. His arms had to be hurting, but he never complained. The pair was simply adorable. Occasionally, she asked to be put down so she could walk up to a tank. It was in those moments when Benny made sure to pay extra attention to Nico, which elicited big, but shy smiles from the boy.

Mariella insisted her brother walk her to the next exhibit, the one with jellyfish she was so excited about. Vanessa looked on affectionately as the two navigated their way hand in hand. She didn't realize that Benny had moved closer to her, his hand brushing against hers before he finally reached for it. He looked up at the sign as they walked under it and snorted.

“What’s so funny?” Vanessa arched an eyebrow.

“Sorry…it's just,” he chuckled, angling his chin up so Vanessa could read the sign.

No Bone Zone

“Hell of a name for an exhibit, don't cha think?”

Vanessa groaned and rolled her eyes which made Benny clutch his stomach as he laughed.

“Sorry, sorry…I just had to, it was too funny to pass up,” he flashed the biggest smile.

“I feel like I could make a joke, but I don’t know…” Vanessa smirked.

“Make a dirty joke here? With kids around?” Benny sarcastically scoffed. “What am I going to do with you boss lady?”

Vanessa flashed a mischievous look. She got up on her tiptoes, her lips hovering around his ears, goosebumps forming on his forearms, “Wouldn’t you like to know?” She quickly got back flat on her feet, winked at him, and scurried off to catch up with Mariella and Nico, leaving Benny a bit stunned…and insanely turned on.

“It kinda smells weird, you smell that?” Benny asked, sniffing the air before he turned to see Vanessa's smirk. “What?”

Vanessa turned her attention to Mariella, “Do you need your diaper changed?” Mariella nodded and then turned to Benny who suddenly looked panicked. “Don’t worry Bun, I won't subject you to the full immersive experience,” she winked. She grabbed the backpack and turned to her niece, “Ok, we'll be back, ven aquí mi amor.”

Mariella reluctantly let go of Benny’s hand. He turned to Nico who looked nervous. To his left, Benny noticed a small interactive table for kids with some activities. “Nico, wanna go over there while we wait on the girls? I think they have coloring.”

Nico’s face lit up as he walked up and saw some coloring pages. He found a spot to sit while Benny struggled to get his tall frame into one of the small chairs. Once seated, he grabbed a few colored pencils and asked which animal was Nico's favorite so he could start sketching.

Benny got a bit frustrated with himself, not liking how the fins of the shark were turning out. He took off his hat and ran his fingers through his hair before putting the cap on backward. He noticed Nico looking up at him.

“Tia likes your hat like that.” He said softly before quickly focusing his attention back on coloring.

Benny felt himself blushing, wondering what Vanessa may have said for Nico to know that. He cleared his throat and picked his pencil back up to continue sketching. “You know, I really like your Aun- I mean your Tia.”

Nico nodded, not looking up as he continued to color in his cartoon shark. After a few moments, he stopped and turned to face Benny. “Her last boyfriend made her cry a lot. Are you going to make her cry?”

Benny shook his head, his brows pinched as he regarded the boy, “No, no buddy. That's the last thing I wanna do.”

“Good, because I like when she smiles. And she smiles a lot around you. And she laughs too. I like that.” And with a small smile, he went back to coloring.

Benny could feel himself tearing up at the boy's candor. He didn't know a lot about Vanessa's ex, but he gathered it was a bit tumultuous at best.

“You boys having fun?” Vanessa appeared behind Benny, her eyes looked a bit misty seeing the boys bonding.

“Sure are, nice to have some guy time, right Nico?” Benny knocked the little boy lightly on his shoulder.

“You really don't have to get them anything, Bun,” Vanessa leaned over as they watched Mariella peruse the stuffed animals in the gift shop while Nico looked at the books.

“I know, but I want to. It was a fun day, we should get something to remember it.” Mariella excitedly pointed at a pink jellyfish, her big brown eyes looking up at Benny. “This one?” He pointed to the toy, laughing when she started jumping up and down. “What about you darlin’?” He looked at Vanessa.

“Me? I… you're sweet, but I don’t need anything.” She looked down, feeling her face get warm.

“C’mon, course you do. My treat.”

Vanessa grinned as she looked at the display of stuffed marine animals, trying to control herself when all she wanted to do was squeal and kick her feet.

“Here, let me drive,” Benny lightly grabbed Vanessa's wrist after they finished loading everything up. “Just relax, I've got this.”

“Ok, thank you.” Vanessa smiled. Today was fun, but also overstimulating. She was thankful for the offer and appreciative that Benny thought to do it.

As they pulled out of the parking lot, she looked over her shoulder to see both kids passed out. Benny turned on the radio, turning it down slightly as he hummed along. Vanessa rested her head against the headrest and turned her face toward Benny, admiring how his forearm on the steering wheel flexed when he turned a corner.

She reached for his right arm, fingers grazing down his forearm until she reached his hand and threaded her fingers with his. He glanced over with a quick smile and brought her hand up, again pressing his lips to it. The rest of the drive they kept in some contact, whether it was holding hands or Benny resting his hand on Vanessa's thigh.

When the exit for Torrey Hills was in sight, Benny looked over, “You can say no if you'd rather have some alone time, but the guys’re going to a baseball game tonight…I was gonna stay home and watch a movie since I should get to sleep early…if you wanna come over…no pressure.”

Vanessa placed her hand on top of the one Benny had rooted on her thigh, “I'd like that. I can make you something for dinner. My treat for putting up with us all day.”

“You don't need to do that sweetheart. It was fun, I liked hanging out with you…all of you.”

“Bun, I know you have to be hungry. Goldfish crackers and that sad turkey sandwich from the café didn't cut it…besides, I can’t have you starving on my watch. We have to keep your strength up for Friday, right?”

Benny glanced over with a smirk, “Good point. I’m kinda trying to win this fight. I’ve got some extra…motivation.”

Four Days to Fight Night

“I made it baby girl…yeah, I’ll tell them you said hi…maybe we can FaceTime with everyone later ok? Alright, have fun with your mom. Love you.”

Joel cursed under his breath as he walked out of baggage claim to the bustling, chaotic scene that was arrivals. The Florida humidity was thick and he already felt the beads of sweat forming on the back of his neck. He set his backpack on the ground and undid the buttons on his green plaid shirt, deciding to just go ahead and take it off leaving him in his white Miller Contracting T-shirt.

He spotted Will’s Jeep in the distance, waving over the crowd which Will acknowledged as he made his way over to the curb.

Will looked around Joel, brow furrowed as his cousin opened the door, “Where’s Tommy?”

“Well hello to you too,” Joel scoffed, putting his suitcase in the back before settling into the passenger seat. “It’s hot as hell here man.”

“Welcome to Florida,” Will winked, clapping Joel on the shoulder. “Good to see you J.” He put the Jeep in drive and started to make his way out of the chaos.

“Good to see you too man. Sarah says hi, she sent me with some stuff for you and the guys.”

“She’s a sweetheart…hopefully you can bring her next time. I’m sure Bean will lose his mind wanting to take her over to Disney or something,” Will chuckled.

“Yeah and maybe Tommy’ll stay out of trouble for more than five goddamn minutes and he can come too,” Joel shook his head as he took in the rows of palm trees lining the road.

“What’d he do this time?”

Joel took a deep breath in through his nose and out, “I dunno…he went to a bar, sounds like some guy was harassin’ the bartender…girl he likes. Anyway, one thing led to another and he decked the guy, knocked ‘em unconscious, so he got taken into Travis County. By the time he got around to callin’ me it was early this mornin’ and I needed to leave for the airport...at least I have a free airline ticket now,” Joel shook his head with a smirk.

“Damn…sounds like we should have had him out here to help Fish train Benny then huh?” Will looked over with a lopsided grin.

“How’s he doin’?” Joel asked.

Will glanced over, “Gotta say, I was really nervous when he first signed up for this but over the last week or so…I dunno man, he's unstoppable.”

“Good…good. Reckon Nox has something to do with that. She seems like a sweet girl.” Joel looked over quickly making eye contact briefly before the stoplight turned green.

Will paused, taking in the fact that Joel not only had an unprompted nickname for Vanessa already, but he seemed so supportive of the relationship. “She is…really sweet girl and she looks at Benny like he's the most important person in the world, which is a good thing because he does the same with her,” Will chuckled. “He's started drawing again…even singing too, heard him in the shower the other day. He thinks I don’t notice, but I'm pretty sure I saw him writing too.”

“The kid sounds happy, he deserves it…” Joel trailed off, smiling at himself.

David: 🚨 🚨 COUSIN JOEL ARRIVES TODAY 🚨 🚨

Megan: I'm surprised you aren't camped out on your lawn waiting!

Ty: Don't give him ideas. We're out scouting a couple of wedding venues for a client so we are going to be gone all day.

David: The. Worst. So we need one of you to send us the goods when daddy shows up

Megan: 💀

Melissa: Ty do you just walk around with a spray bottle for him 😆

David: You could dump my ass in the bay and it still wouldn't quench this THIRST

Megan: Well at least you're self aware

David: Katie. I need a flight number. Airline. General ETA. Anythingggg

Lucille: He'll definitely be here by dinner time, Benny asked if I could make them some food for tonight. I’m at the hair salon so I may miss his arrival.

Megan: I’m in the waiting room for Connor’s physical so we’re not around either.

Olivia: I don’t even know what time it is right now. Diana was up and down all night.

Melissa: I’m with a client today.

David: YOU ALL ARE THE WORST

David: Katie. You’re my only hope.

David: Katie??

Joel looked out the window as Will turned into the subdivision and turned down Mule Fall Court. “Looks like a nice place,” he observed.

“It is, I think you’ll like it here. It’s quiet, but the people are really fun.” Will pulled into the driveway and cut off the ignition.

Joel climbed out of the Jeep and took a look around, giving an approving nod at the landscaping in front of 319. He looked further down the street at the other houses and their manicured lawns, stopping to admire the construction of one of the homes a few doors down. It had a beautiful, large window in its front room.

Will started pointing out where everyone lived, starting with Lucille. “Great fuckin’ cook man, you’ll see tonight. She’s been taking care of us so we look after her.” He then pointed out Megan’s house, Melissa and Danny’s, Olivia and Chris’, and David and Ty’s. “And right over there is where Vanessa lives with her sister Victoria and her brother-in-law Marcus.”

“Well, ain't it damn Leave It To Beaver ‘round these parts,” Joel chuckled, wiping the sweat off his forehead.

A sudden slam of a door made them both turn their heads. Katie carefully rushed across her porch, minding some of the gaps between the planks so as to not trip in her heels and break an ankle. She had rushed home quickly before her big presentation to find an elusive USB drive. Her hands were full as she made her way down to her car, juggling her sweater, purse, and work bag.

“Oh, someone I want you to meet,” Will smiled, patting Joel on the chest as he took off in a light jog down the driveway. “Hey, Katie!” He called over.

She was even more beautiful in person than the photos Joel had seen or that random FaceTime they had a few weeks ago. Trailing behind Will, he cleared his throat, taking full advantage of the fact that he was wearing sunglasses, giving her an appreciative up and down, stopping just a beat longer to admire how her legs looked in her pencil skirt and heels.

“Hey, Will,” Katie responded a bit out of breath.

“Katie, I wanted you to meet Joel,” he patted his cousin on the back. “He’s in town for an overdue vacation and just in time for Benny’s fight this weekend!”

Joel extended his hand, his sunglasses now pushed to his forehead. “It’s great to finally meet you, Katie. I’ve heard a lot about you from Will,” he said with a friendly smirk.

“So you’re the infamous Cousin Joel we’ve been hearing so much about?”

Amused by the question, Joel’s smirk turned into a smile, “Infamous, huh? I hope Will's been keeping it a positive one,” he joked.

Will raised an eyebrow at Joel’s flirtatious tone, one that he knew very well from their younger days, but hadn’t heard in well over a decade. Joel and Katie stayed looking at each other for a beat before the sound of running feet snapped them out of it.

“J MONEEEEYYY! You made it!” Benny sprinted across the street and leapt at Joel who caught his taller cousin with ease.

Katie chuckled, seeing Benny so excited. Will mentioned how much he was looking forward to Joel’s visit, but now witnessing his reaction in real time, the energy was infectious.

“Bean. It’s good to see you.” Joel’s eyes crinkled at the corners as he hugged his younger cousin with equal enthusiasm.

Benny pulled back after a moment and grinned at Katie, his eyes sparkling excitedly, “So you got to meet the man himself!”

“Indeed,” Katie responded. She knew this sudden uptick in activity at the end of her driveway was sure to have pulled the attention of the Neighborhood Watch. The group chat would be blowing up any minute now. “But, J Money? Did I hear that right?”

Joel laughed, “It’s a nickname,” Benny swung his arm around Joel’s shoulder, “It’s a long story.”

Katie willed herself not to melt into a puddle with the way Joel smiled at her. Her phone buzzing in her hands brought her back to reality. “Sorry,” she held up her phone. She could have sworn she saw a flash of disappointment sweep across Joel’s face, but she didn’t focus on it.

“Work?” Will asked, giving her a sympathetic look.

“Yeah,” she mumbled as she read Miranda’s message and looked back to the guys. “Unfortunately. Big presentation.”

Will nodded sympathetically. This presentation had been weighing on Katie for the past week, but he knew she could handle it after all the preparation she put in. “No rest for the wicked.” he quipped with a wink.

“Yeah,” Katie rummaged through her tote for her car keys before finally finding them at the bottom of her bag.

Benny pulled Joel’s attention away, running through his training regime for the week. Will walked a couple of steps closer to Katie and placed a reassuring hand on her arm, “You got this Kat.”

“Thank you,” she said with a tight smile. Her phone buzzed again and she sighed, “Okay, I really have to go now.”

They all quickly said their goodbyes, Joel and Katie lingering on each other just a beat longer than the rest.

“J, you wanna come to the gym today? Fish says I need to take it easy, but I dunno maybe you wanna get in there, see what we've been up to, n’case you have suggestions,” Benny shadowboxed towards Joel as they made their way across the street.

“Yeah Bean, sounds good, whatever you want man,” Joel smirked, wrapping his arm around Benny’s shoulders.

Benny talked a mile a minute on the way back to the house, Will laughing occasionally at how his brother’s hands flailed as he gestured excitedly. Joel turned his head, catching Katie who watched them all with a smile. He nodded his chin towards her to say goodbye, feeling something he wasn't quite sure how to describe.

Katie took a deep breath before getting into her car and dialing her phone. “Hey, Miranda, I’m on my way back to the office… yeah I’ve got it. We need coffee, what can I get you?”

Benny connected with a combination, putting a bit too much behind his last punch, and knocking Frankie off balance.

“Ok, Ben, you're good man, let's put up the gloves and get out of here,” Will called over from the side.

Next to him, Joel chuckled, arms folded in front of him as he stood with his legs hip distance apart. After sitting for a few hours on the flight and then in the car, he didn't mind standing around and watching Benny spar. Santiago tossed a towel to Benny and Frankie while Connor brought their water bottles over.

“Whad’ya think J?” Benny asked as he tried to catch his breath. He flipped his hair back frustrated that it was getting in his eyes.

“Lookin’ good Bean, how are you feeling?”

“Good, actually…yeah, I feel good,” he smiled.

“You need to ask Vanessa to give you a haircut, hermano…you were too distracted with your hair getting in your eyes, I almost got you a few times,” Frankie’s hand ruffled through the front of Benny's hair.

Joel and Will exchanged a knowing look. “She cuts hair too?” Joel asked with an arched brow, eliciting a snort from Santiago.

“She did mine,” Connor offered, his bright eyes looking up at Joel.

Joel gave the boy a once over, his head cocked to the side with an approving look and shrug. “Talented girl, huh Bean?”

“Wonder if you’ll get some special treatment, Ben, get the full service,” Santiago snorted, ducking to avoid Frankie slapping him upside the head as he cut his eyes towards Connor.

Benny felt his face getting hot so he turned on his heels and headed toward the weights, missing the way all the guys tried to stifle their laughter.

The group trailed behind, pairing off to different stations to finish their workouts. Joel walked over to Benny, who sat on a bench checking his phone.

“Need a spot?” Joel asked softly.

Benny turned around, sporting a big smile, “Yeah, that'd be great.” He reclined onto the bench and under the bar bracing himself to do some bench presses.

“This gonna be your last fight Bean?”

“We'll…see…depends on…how it…goes,” Benny managed between reps, racking the bar and taking a deep breath.

“You seem more focused this time…this guy do somethin' to piss you off or what?” Joel chuckled softly to himself. As he brought the bar off the rack, his chest tensed, waiting for Benny to start his next set.

“Nah,” Benny chuckled. “I dunno…feels like…things are…clicking,” he let out a big exhale.

“That's good Bean, that's good,” Joel looked down with a soft smile as Benny gritted his teeth to finish the set.

After two more sets, Benny slid from under the bar, sitting up and wiping his brow with his shirt.

“You should get that haircut,” Joel smirked.

Benny looked down at his feet, feeling warm as he thought about Vanessa and her fingers in his hair like they were the night before. As he glanced up at Joel, he chuckled. “You need one too?”

“Nah, but I'll go with you…supervise.”

Benny snorted and they both started laughing. Benny hopped off the bench and gestured towards it. “C'mon old man, you gonna do a couple of sets or what?”

Joel stretched his arms up, his shirt riding up a bit before he brought his hands to his hips, “Sure, rack it up, Bean.”

“She should be here any second,” Benny rubbed his hands together looking over to Joel with a huge grin.

And almost on cue, they heard the doorbell, Frankie moving to answer the door while Will finished setting the table and Santiago poured whiskey for everyone.

“Hola Lulu,” Frankie said softly, the corners of his mouth lifted into a smile before he leaned down to kiss Lucille.

“Hola mi amor,” she leaned in, patting his arm. Frankie pulled back, brows drawn together as he saw she was empty-handed. “I didn’t forget the food Francisco, it’s down there,” she nodded behind her to the little wagon at the bottom of the porch steps.

Frankie tutted, “¿por qué no llamaste? We would have helped bring this over.”

“Ay, I didn’t want to bother, figured I’d just drop it off anyway.”

“Drop it off?” Benny appeared behind Frankie, Joel trailing behind him. “What do you mean Lulu? You’re not gonna stay and have dinner with us?”

“I didn’t want to impose, mi vida. It’s ok, I have leftovers,” Lucille waved him off.

Joel cleared his throat, pushing himself past Benny so he stood shoulder to shoulder with Frankie. “Hola, señora soy Joel,” he reached out to shake her hand.

She eagerly took his hand, realizing how frail her small hand looked in his. She felt the rough calluses of his palms, the hands of a working man. He was striking, his broad frame seemed to tower over the other men, but there was a softness tucked away in his eyes as he looked down at her. “Joel. Un placer conocerte. You speak Spanish a lot better que tus primos,” she winked.

Joel chuckled, looking over his shoulder at Benny who pouted a bit. “Well, I cheated a bit. Grew up speaking Spanish because of my mom.”

“Bueno, well, I’ll leave you boys to it,” she started to turn before Joel pipped up.

“Where are you going? Stay with us. How’re we supposed to compliment the cook if she’s gone?” He winked. She got the sense this man could be quite persuasive when he wanted to be.

“Yea, Lulu, please stay,” Benny pleaded, resting his forearm on Joel’s shoulder.

“Ok, ok, fine. Here let’s get everything in before it gets cold,” she motioned towards the wagon.

She spared no expense in preparing this meal, knowing she had five grown men to feed, really six if you count how much Benny had been eating in the lead up to his fight. Arroz con pollo was always a crowd-pleaser and easy to make in bulk. She also brought some yucca, black beans and snuck in a few favorites for the guys – empanadas for Benny, maduros for Frankie, tostones for Santiago, and a flan for Will.

They sat around talking, catching up, and eating. Lucille watched on fondly as Joel shared the latest with his daughter Sarah. His face softened when he spoke of his little girl, she could tell what a proud father he was.

As the last forks hit the plates, Joel pushed his forward, leaning back in his chair, resting his hands on the back of his head, and letting out a low whistle. “Wow, Lucille, that was delicious. Couldn’t remember the last time I had a meal like that.”

Lucille blushed as the rest of the guys chimed in with their praise. “Oh stop, you mean to tell me you don’t have an old neighbor who cooks for you and your daughter and brother?”

Joel shook his head laughing, leaning forward to rest his forearms on the table. “Nah, best Mrs. Adler can do is cookies. They’re mighty fine cookies, mind you, but she’s not much of a cook.”

“Well, I’m glad you liked it,” she pushed back from the table, moving to get herself up to start clearing the dishes.

Joel moved, resting a hand on hers, “No ma’am, you sit on down. We’ll take care of it.” He stood up and took her plate and glass from her. Frankie, Santiago, and Will all followed suit and started promptly clearing the table.

Benny stayed back, scooting his chair closer to Lucille whose eyes lingered on the men as they walked to the kitchen, “Hey Lulu, I…um…I have a question”

“Que mi vida?” She raised her eyebrow.

“I was wondering if sometime you could show me how to make something.”

“Empanadas may be a little advanced, but we can try it,” she smiled, patting his hand.

“No, no, not that. I…um…could you show me how to make Cuban coffee sometime?”

She eyed him conspiratorially and nodded, whispering that she’d be happy to give him a lesson just as Frankie returned to the table.

“Lulu, we’ll clean everything up…return all the dishes tomorrow if that’s ok?”

“Well, with this kind of service I may be making dinner for you all every night,” she laughed.

Benny and Frankie laughed as they helped her get to her feet.

“C’mon, I’ll walk you home,” Frankie offered her his hand as he walked her over to the kitchen to say goodbye to everyone.

Lucille and Frankie exchanged small talk as they walked the short distance back to her house. Before long, the conversation naturally shifted to Jo.

“She’s actually coming on Friday, for Benny’s fight,” his hopeful eyes found Lucille’s.

She cocked her head to the side, the corners of her mouth curling up as she rubbed his arm, “Well, I’m excited to meet her. Can’t wait to see the woman who is making you look like that.”

His forehead creased, “Look like what?”

“In love.” She said matter of factly. It didn’t take extremely astute powers of observation to see the shift in Frankie’s demeanor over the last two weeks. The sadness that used to be at the surface, ever present in his eyes even when he smiled, had evaporated. There was a glow to him. He seemed more relaxed, sure of himself…happy.

Frankie chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck, taking in her words. With a deep breath, his eyes met hers, “yeah, yeah maybe I am.”

Next Time on As the Mule Falls: Benny goes to a foodie event with Vanessa (get the Bingo cards back out, we'll have a cameo). The boys have a poker night. And there’s another encounter between Katie and Joel. David also continues to wait until he can get eyes on Joel.

A/N: Hi! Sooo…what do we think? Benny and Vanessa continue to be one of my favorite storylines, but Cousin Joel is right up there!

I’m still sharing some extras between chapters. Since the last chapter, I posted a little extra of Benny’s Instagram thanks to the creative help of @undercoverpena. I also had a Benny x Vanessa post, After, about how they both reacted to their first kiss. I’m planning on posting another Benny x Vanessa extra about what happened after the aquarium.

I highly recommend checking out 323 Mulefall Crt if you want some more Cousin Joel! We've been dropping little hints for months and I'm so excited to finally share it. Betty - working on this little universe with you has brought me so much joy. Thank you <3

Until next time!

Taglist: @goodwithcheese / @gemmahale / @trulybetty / @noxturnalpascal / @periodtsparadox

@ramblers-lets-get-ramblin / @maggiemayhemnj / @mysterious-moonstruck-musings / @avastrasposts / @meveispunk

@chaoticfestninja / @beboldbebravethings / @casa-boiardi / @katw474 / @laughing-in-th3-purple-rain

@pimosworld / @lynnchun / @anoverwhelmingdin /@lilmizmoz / @mclibs23

@pedrit0-pascalit0 / @titlee78 / @noisynightmarepoetry / @inept-the-magnificent / @perennialdoll247

@for-a-longlongtime / @readingiskeepingmegoing / @harriedandharassed / @musings-of-a-rose / @anavatazes

@sherala007 / @midnightraain / @partyofone3413 / @inthedarkestnight / @millennial-teenybopper

@csarab615 / @darkheartgatita / @southernbe / @weho2kcmo / @itspdameronthings

#triple frontier fic #triple frontier #triple frontier fanfiction #benny miller fanfiction #joel miller fanfiction #frankie morales fanfiction

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theold-ultraviolence · 1 year

Note

When Aemond has bad pain from his nerve damage and needs to just rest Patch lies on him and looks up at him with a sad eye wanting so bad for him to feel alright and he won’t leave his side until he does

Say no more friend...sorry for the delay in response, but when I read this ask, I went, this deserves a short little blurb and only now I'm finding the time to sit down and write it! Also any new besties around here wondering, Patch comes from this fic.

Aemond grumbles as soon as he feels that first jab against his skull. He rubs the scarred side of his face, willing the pain away because this is such a perfect day and he doesn’t want to ruin it.

The sun is shining, and you’ve got nowhere to be today. He’s got his little family around him – you and your two dogs, Vaghar and Patch, cuddled up on the couch watching a movie.

But the jabbing feeling persists, quickly expanding across the left side of his face into a full on migraine. Hissing, he closes his eyes and rubs at his temples, clinging to hope that the headache will go away.

“You okay, Aemond?” you murmur, gently touching his arm before wrapping your own around his shoulders. Finally he gives up, shaking his head and getting up from the couch.

By now you know every beat of how this goes, know that at this point his vision is turning blurry and the pain makes it hard for him to stand.

You help get him to bed, where he quickly curls under the blankets, with pillows all bunched up so that they’ll cushion the side of his face that’s throbbing acutely. You close the blinds and rush to fetch him a glass of water and pain meds, but you nearly trip on your way back to the bedroom.

Patch, your one-eyed puppy is scrambling between your legs in alert to what’s just happened. It occurs to you that this is the first time since you adopted him that he’s witnessed one of Aemond’s nerve pain episodes. Vaghar has been with Aemond since his accident, so she’s already attuned to the circumstance, and knows that she must remain calm and not make any noise.

But poor little Patch looks so worried – such an expressive puppy even when he, like Aemond, lacks one of his eyes.

“Not now, baby” you coo at Patch. “Your dad needs to rest.”

Patch makes little whining noises, following you to the bedroom. When you ignore him he starts barking, which makes Aemond groan and curl in on himself even more.

“Shhh! Patch! Not now!”

You hiss as you place the glass of water and pills by Aemond’s bedside, which is when Aemond carefully turns and croaks out, “What is it?”

“He’s worried about you.”

Aemond is quiet for a moment before whispering, “Bring him over, it’s alright.”

“Aemond, are you sure?”

“Sure. He won’t bother me.”

You eye Aemond worriedly, but fulfill his wishes. Tenderly, you lift Patch in your arms and let him crawl over to Aemond on the bed.

“You gotta behave, baby. Your dad is not feeling well.” You pet Patch’s little head as he settles underneath Aemond’s arm, gazing at him so sadly.

Wide puppy eye is fixed on Aemond, and he’s never ever been this still. Out of your two dogs, Patch is definitely an energy ball whereas Vaghar is an old lady that enjoys her quiet leisure.

“I’m gonna leave you to rest. Call me if you need anything,” ever so carefully, you plant a kiss on Aemond’s head and give Patch a loving scratch on his head.

When you’re gone, Aemond turns on his back, bringing Patch to rest atop his chest so he can caress his soft fur. The puppy can only stare longingly at Aemond, as if he was feeling every bit of pain as his own. Patch begins to weep and it wrecks Aemond’s heart, prompting him to bring him even closer to him so that he can be all nuzzled against his neck, hugging him tightly.

After a long while, being so soothed in Aemond’s arms, Patch stills, and Aemond can finally fall asleep.

When you come back in to check on them your heart melts at the sight of the two all cuddled up and nuzzling one another. You leave them be, and go back to keep Vaghar company, happy to know that there’s a new addition to your little family that helps to make Aemond feel cared for and loved.

#aemond targaryen #modern!aemond #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond targaryen blurb #aemond targaryen drabble #aemond and patch #my writing #hotd #house of the dragon #fanfiction #ewan mitchell

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queenendless · 9 months

Text

❤️‍🩹 Period (Adult!Gojo Satoru x Fem!Reader) ❤️‍🩹

A/N: So much chaos happened at home last Friday in tune with my time of the month. Things are better now. And today's newest episode ... oh God. Next week and beyond is gonna crush my soul.

Ergo writing self indulgent comfort fics to quell the soul. Just period stuff, fluff, comfort, basically Gojo being the #1 boyfriend/husbando~

All credit to characters and image below goes to Gege sensei. PLEASE DON'T STEAL OR COPY MY WORK, RATHER LIKE AND REBLOG. I hope you enjoy.

Menstrual cycles are quite the monthly hassle.

The first day came today.

Curled up on the couch, trying to relax despite the mixed emotions coursing through your hormonal state when your phone pinged about a notification.

(Heyyyyy~)

You could imagine his cheery, upbeat voice singing it out loud that made you smile at least at the thought of it.

(Hey.)

(Missions are done! Errands done! Souvenir shopping time~! Ya want anything?)

You whined weakly as your hand clutched your now swollen tummy.

(Can you pick up some pads and or tampons and pain relievers on the way back?)

(Mother nature calling?)

(Yeah.)

(KK. Imma get the munchies. Sweet? Salty?)

You texted him your preferences.

(♡)

You smiled, sending him one more message.

(。・ω・。)

After being gone for 10 days straight, you couldn't wait to see him again.

After changing in the bathroom, you had closed the door behind yourself when you felt a familiar cursed presence appear behind the front door of your shared apartment, followed by the clacking sound of dress boots being taken off.

"Y/n~! I'm home~!"

The boosted hormonal wave crashing into you had you tearing up at the sight of your blindfolded giant sorcerer lover before barreling over into a tight bear hug.

"Oya oya~ What is this~?" Gojo lifted you up under your arms, bringing your blubbering face right in front of his, teeth gleaming in that smug ass smile. "My sweet angel is shedding tears for me~? Oh I'm flattered~!"

You wacked your fists and feet into him — though Infinity was making sure they did not connect. "You can go off on your ego boost after I lay down, god damn Toru!"

Gojo's enriching deep chuckle left you fuzzy as he carried you up in one arm, waving his bag of goodies in your face. "Okie dokie!" He plopped you down on the couch, dropping the bag in your lap, then dipped his head down. "Time for kissies~!"

His deep smooch was smothering – in a sweet laced good way.

"Gojo," His giant hands cradled your face, tilting you as he kissed you from a different angle, making it very difficult to focus. "Uh–!" His many tender pecks peppered many times on your lips, feeling his warm breath brush your moistness. "My heating pad." You giggled as his lips wandered to your cheek, then your neck, your mental processing faltering from his insisting distracing lips. "Please?"

His disappointed whine dispersed as your hands ruffled his propped up spiky snow white hair, kissing his cheek. "Alright alright." His exasperated sigh was betrayed by his mirthful expression as he pecked your nose then stalked off to your shared bedroom, startling you from his shouting voice down the hall. "Uh sweetie?! The battery in this is dead!"

You swore under your breath, whimpering as a finicky upset kiddie from the cramps, before pulling a small capped bottle of Ibuprofen out of the bag. "Could you go out and buy a replacement?" You asked as you downed two small capsules with water from your water bottle.

"Hmm … I could … OR!"

Feeling tall lean firmness behind you made you nearly flail off the couch hard, caught by those dark blue sleeved arms of his.

"Toru! One of these days, warping is gonna give me a heart attack, I swear to God!"

"Unless it's by a Death Note, I think not."

"God." You grumbled as he snatched your small Roku control before turning on the big HD TV as you rummaged out a small package of your munchies. "What about my heating pa – ?"

You stopped speaking, shuddering as his giant hand slid underneath the hem of your top, resting on your bulging tummy, rubbing his fingers soothingly slowly around your bulge.

"You were saying?" His sultry voice purred in your ear.

You shakily breathed at how hot he sounded.

You felt yourself melting against him, his skin being more than enough to chase the discomfort away. "I never thought I'd find a blindfolded giant so hot." You shyly, shamelessly admitted.

"And you're my warm marshmallow." Gojo laughed.

You rolled your eyes, grinning as you ripped the bag open, offering some of it to him behind you, knowing whatever you ate he'd want as well. "Stuff that mouth of yours already, you goof."

His delighted hum, nuzzling his head atop yours, cradling your belly softly, it all relaxed your hormonally effed up nerves.

Binging Netflix, eating some snacks, cuddling on the couch, this is what you missed.

Gojo especially missed this.

For even the strongest sorcerer of the modern age was also the loneliest man there ever was. Exorcizing curses, flipping off the stingy higher ups, watching his students progress from afar, so much done and yet he would stay restless until he felt you in his arms again.

Chewing on more munchies by the handful, he felt your form laxing. Looking down, vocally aweing at the sight of your open mouthed self, your form slowly and softly rising then descending as you breathed, nodding off in the middle of watch time.

He knew these monthly visits from Mother Nature meant you'd be more moody, more drained, so a relaxed sleeping Y/n was the better outcome to receive.

Even in this corrupted present world, he hoped his students, friends and allies would one day be at his level to help him bring down the current world and make it anew. Better for the good souls out there.

Especially for the one that's been filling the emptiness left inside him the most.

Lowering down the volume, he set the remote aside on the coffee table before the couch, watching as you mumble slurry discontent at having his hands leave you.

Gojo Satoru. Your resident heating pad. Noted.

Wiping his hand with some stray napkins you left on the table then leaving the opened half empty snack bag there as well, he turned you carefully on your side so your front would mesh with his, absorbing his warmth into you, the pinched frown on your face melting into that smile he adores so much, nuzzling your cheek into his jacketed chest.

Sliding his hands beneath the hem again, he began rubbing circles in your back, eating up the sight of the shivers your dreaming self gave off, firmly kissing the side of your head as he became lost in your scent.

Lost in this slice of heaven as the troubles of his life and the rest of this world seemed to wash away, he drifted off to nap-ville only to meet you there himself, murmuring words to imprint his biggest constant thought in all your time spent apart.

"I missed you too."

Ah, it's good to be home.

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finelinevogue · 2 years

Note

the weather starting to get cold so they sleep in or making fortress in the living room watching movies drinking hot chocolate while cuddling under the covers 🥹 playing with their toes giggling forgetting about the movie playing BYE 😭

i am so fucking cold today that i thought it would be perfect to write this one :)

summary - winter is supposedly the saddest time of the year, but maybe not this year

warnings: swearing maybe? kardashians, it's just fluff like.. what else did you expect?, a little bit of heated kissing too

word count: 1.4k

"Fuck, fuck, fuck.."

A train of curses fell from your mouth as you ran from the bus stop down the road to your front door. As your ran, your coat hood fell down and you cursed even more.

"Not today please." You sighed, running up the steps to your front door and under the porch. Rummaging through your bag only took a minute to find your key and then you were finally inside your house.

Looking at the clock hanging in the hallway and seeing that it read 5:58 made you sigh and curse some more. You dropped your bag to the floor with a huff and tried to scramble out of your coat, but between an arm getting stuck and the zip getting caught it was not looking to be the quickest escape.

And then the doorbell went.

"Fuck." You said to yourself.

Quickly walking towards the mirror in the hallway you realised that there was no fixing the wet hair or the dripping mascara. You sighed once more and made it to the front door, unlatching it and opening it to see Harry as expected.

"Hey bab.. What happened to you?" He frowned, no doubt noticing how much of a mess you looked right now.

"I know. God, I'm sorry H. Like my boss kept me late and then I missed the stupid bus and caught in the silly rain and now I'm not prepared for you and—"

"Hey, hey." Harry shushed you, pushing you back into your house out of the cold and allowing himself to step inside too. His arms rested on yours and he made sure that you were looking at him when he was talking. "No need to stress, alright? Now, before I allow you to continue your daily rant I want you to go have a hot shower and—"

"But—"

"No. No buts. Listen to me, please. Go have a hot shower and change into something more comfortable." He said as he unzipped your coat for you and helped your trapped arm out. "I will put on the kettle and have a cuppa tea and an episode of Keeping Up With The Kardashian waiting for you, okay?"

This time you sighed with relief.

"Yeah, okay. Thank you."

You leaned up on your toes and puckered your lips for a kiss. Harry most gladly accepted and kissed you back, reaching up a warm hand to cup your cheek and bring you closer to him. The warmth from his body was so comforting and familiar that you could have cried after the day you've had. His lips continued to softly press against yours, until he pulled away to give your cold nose a quick kiss instead.

"Now go, okay?" He tapped your bum lightly, encouraging you be quick so you could come back and kiss him some more. "And after you're done, we can talk about how you didn't call me to come pick you up and instead got the bus."

Instead of responding you smiled as you jogged up the stairs and towards your warm shower.

After a long, hot, shower, where the water scolded your skin and your body smelt like honey and roses, you bundled up in one of Harry’s jumpers he’d left here the other night and some joggers that were a tiny bit too big for you.

Harry was too busy trying to create a bundle of blankets on the sofa that he didn’t even notice that you’d finished upstairs and had entered the room.

You walked up behind him and linked your arms around his waist to give him the tightest hug you could.

It had only been 7 months since you and Harry started dating and, for you at least, it was still too early to say you loved him yet. You definitely knew someday soon you would be ready to say it, but there were a few more firsts that you wanted to experience with him first before letting your heart become half his. The hugs you gave him symbolised how much you adored him and were getting ready to love him, just without the words. He knew that too.

“Y’smell good.” He hummed in delight over your freshly showered hair.

“Thanks. I used that body wash I stole from you.”

Harry’s hands slid over yours on his stomach and turned his head around the best he could to see you behind him.

“You thief.”

“You told me I could.” You pouted.

“Steal anything from me when y’smell this good in my products and y’look this good in my hoodie.” He twisted himself around completely, breaking your hold on him.

“Hi.” You smiled up at him.

“Hi. You feeling better now?” He asked seriously.

“A little. Just wanted this evening to be perfect but—”

“It is. Any evening with you, lovie, is perfect.”

Harry then led you to the bundle of blankets, walking you backwards until your legs hit the back of the sofa and you fell backwards. You laughed as you fell backwards, trusting Harry that he wouldn’t let you hurt yourself on the way down. He fell down too, toppling over you with his arms still wrapped snug around you.

His face fell into your neck and he breathed deeply, inhaling the smell of you covered in his scent. He smiled to himself, happy in this moment with you. If he could, he would be want to be frozen in this moment in time. Holding you for a lifetime was what his dreams were curated of.

“Are we watching a movie tonight or do you just want to cuddle?” You asked him, stroking your hands softly through his hair.

“Both?” He popped his head up to smile at you, hoping you were thinking the same thing.

“That was silly of me to ask, wasn’t it?” You chuckled to yourself.

Harry rearranged his body on you, tilting himself just slightly off you so he didn’t crush you under his weight. His head rested high on your chest and took padding from your boobs - his favourite part about you too. One of his hands snuck up your hoodie and onto the skin of your stomach, already stroking small circles there. His other hand kept a hold around your waist.

Reaching for the remote, you flicked through some channels on the TV first. You quickly skipped over the news, since there was no good news as of recently. On ITV there was Naked Attraction, which you paused on briefly. It just so happened the point you paused at was a woman showing off her very perky breasts and you had to quickly put your hand in front of Harry’s eyes.

He laughed, knowing you were making a joke but he wanted to reassure you anyways.

“Weren’t as pretty as yours, baby.” He titled his head to kiss the valley between your boobs over your clothes.

“Or yours.” You said, referring to the ongoing joke that Harry was building bigger and better than yours - and only 50% of the worlds women population.

“Well mine are the prettiest, so...” He added to your joke, making you giggle before changing the channel.

“Shall I just put on the Kardashians, then?” You asked, always wanting to check in case he wasn’t in the mood to see an ex on screen that day.

“Sure. Whatever you wanna watch.”

“That’s not what I asked, H.” You stroked his hair again, coaxing a better answer out of him.

“Y/N, honey. Promise, y’can watch anything. I kind of enjoy watching the Kardashians and knowing that I’m not affiliated with that family anymore.”

You leaned down on kissed the top of his head and Harry snuggled deeper into your chest. Smiling as you put the newest season you, you got ready for an episode of overdramatic drama about salads and Hollywood.

“Wait...” Harry sat up quickly.

“What?” You paused the show.

He turned around and grabbed some more blankets, throwing one over you and tucking you in carefully like a little burrito. You laughed as he accidentally tickled you whilst he was making sure you were all bundled in. Then he laid back on top of you, throwing another blanket on top of him and regaining his original position on top of you.

“Better?”

“Couldn’t let m’girl go cold.” He answered.

“No. Now I’ll overcook like a burnt potato instead.” You pressed play on the TV, but you kind of wish you didn’t because you missed what Harry said afterwards due to the Kardashian show credits. It sounded like he was replying to you, but you never did catch what he said.

If you had heard him, it would’ve gone something like; “Well I’d still very much like you as a burnt potato.”

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fanfic #ask finelinevogue #harry blurb #finelinevogue #harry styles concept #harry oneshot #harry styles blurbs #harry styles christmas #harry styles boyfriend blurb #boyfriend harry fluff #boyfriendrry #harry styles fic rec #fic rec finelinevogue #finelinevogue christmas fic #christmastrry

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toomuchracket · 1 year

Text

happiness

my first fic for everyone's parasocial husband ross! that beautiful man RADIATES comfort and domesticity, and frankly it's a crime that there are like no fics of him as a dad on here, so that's what this is: ross and his wifey enjoying a chill day at home with their month-old daughter (featuring excited best friend matty, because it's funny and you're all rabid matty stans (mood, tbf)). also, spoiler alert for the season 2 finale of New Girl? enjoy!

stifling a yawn with your hoodie-covered fist, you pad into the kitchen of your house, the chill of the tiled floor noticeable even through your socks. ross, clad in a hoodie much like your (well, his) own, is fiddling about with the espresso machine you guys got as a wedding present from adam and carly. sunshine streams through the window and glints off the ring on his left hand, which makes your cheeks lift into a smile.

coming up behind your husband, you wrap your arms as best you can around his muscular torso, pressing your forehead to his back and inhaling his scent, a heady mix of sandalwood aftershave and laundry detergent from the hoodie. without turning around, ross takes your left hand in his and kisses it softly just below your wedding ring, then speaks. "she settled down ok, i take it?"

"went out like a light," you reply. "she is your daughter, after all."

ross chuckles, still busying himself with the coffee contraption. "not like her mother, fighting to stay awake despite exhaustion," he mocks, turning in your hold to look at you pointedly, although there's a playful sparkle in his dark eyes. ross passes you a steaming espresso cup - comically tiny in his massive hands - and plants another soft kiss on your forehead. "thought you might need that, my love."

you murmur a thank you and tip the contents of the cup into your mouth, wincing at the overwhelming initial combination of heat and bitterness. it softens into something pleasant as it travels down your throat, though, and you shiver as you feel the caffeine take effect.

ross, ever-attentive to your every move, places his hands on your waist, eyes scanning your face for any sign of discomfort. "you ok?"

"mhmm."

ross doesn't seem convinced. "you look exhausted, love. do you want another coffee? or a nap?"

you smirk as you place the empty cup onto the counter, bringing your hands up to rest on your husband's broad chest. "trying to get me into bed, mr macdonald?"

"always, mrs macdonald," ross quips back, his face softening and his grip on your waist relaxing. he leans down, you rise up on tiptoe, and your lips meet somewhere in the middle. despite the back-and-forth innuendo, there's no desire behind the kiss - well, none more than usual, when your husband looks as good as he does. it's tender, soft, romantic; just dreamy, really.

you open your eyes slowly as ross pulls his lips away from yours and trails them gently down towards your neck, smiling as his facial hair tickles your bare skin. he presses a soft kiss under your chin, then whispers in your ear. "d'you think we'll have time to watch an episode of new girl before bean wakes up?"

"god, domestic life really has changed you," you tease, stroking your husband's head as he nuzzles into you. "you used to sneak me away for quickies when we had any free time, and now you just want to watch sitcoms."

"it's your fault, bloody putting it on for a rewatch and getting me hooked," ross laughs. he begins pressing kisses into your neck; softly at first, then slightly more passionate, which makes your head spin a little. "but i'm more than happy to go back to the quickies as soon as we've been given the go-ahead to do so. always wanted to shag a milf, actually."

"easy, tiger," you giggle, pulling ross up to plant a quick kiss on his lips before leading him to the living room. "come on, let's see what jess and nick are up to today."

the two of you settle in your usual position on the couch; you perched sideways on ross' lap, his head resting on your chest, a soft tartan blanket covering you both. you control the remote, letting out a quiet whoop when you see that elaine's big day is today's episode. "oh, this is a good one!"

"you've said that about every episode so far."

"i know, but... shut up, and just watch."

ross chuckles, but does as he's told. you half-watch the episode (admittedly, you've seen it four times already) and half-watch him, smiling at his reactions; his quiet "aww" when schmidt sees cece in her wedding outfit, his cringes at nick and winston's antics, and - your favourite - his shocked gasp when elaine finally appears onscreen. "taylor swift?!"

his handsome face is so incredulous that you can't help but laugh. "told you it was a good episode."

"i can't believe they just revealed taylor swift like that," ross mutters, in obvious shock. his eyes widen, and he turns to face you. "wait, is this how the fans felt when we brought her out onstage at the o2 that time?"

you smile, opening your mouth to answer affirmatively; before you can, though, faint cries start to come through the baby monitor on the coffee table. clicking off the tv and throwing the blanket to one side, you and ross peel yourselves off the couch to stand. "well, we might not have made it through the whole episode" you begin, stretching slightly. "but at least bean had the good grace to wait until we'd seen taylor before she woke up and wanted attention."

ross laughs, grabbing your hand and tugging you towards the stairs. "prioritising taylor swift over her own needs? she's more like you than we thought."

you hit him gently on the arm. your daughter's cries increase in volume as you near her nursery, and even though you know she's alright the sound makes your heart ache. "it's alright, princess, we're coming!"

the two of you enter the sage-painted room and make a beeline for the crib, where your tiny girl whines and wriggles in discomfort. she stops crying as soon as ross gently lifts her up, cooing softly at her. "don't worry, bean, daddy's got you."

you caress the shock of dark hair on her little head, clearly inherited from her father; the big eyes she gazes at you sweetly with, though, are all yours. "do you need changing, princess? i think you do," you say, looking up at your husband. "do you want me to-"

"i've got her, love," ross replies, kissing your head as he carries the baby to her changing station. "will you grab me another outfit for her, though?"

"sure," you say, heading to the faded white wardrobe in the corner of the room as ross cleans up and babbles to your daughter ("for someone so tiny, you're quite good at being so stinky... but you're sooooo cute, you're just like mummy, she's cute too"), which makes your heart swell with love. you rifle through the - honestly excessive - collection of baby clothes hanging up neatly, until a black onesie with a familiar white decal on the front makes you stop in your tracks. perfect.

as you head back over to ross and the baby, anticipation of showing them your outfit pick growing with every step, the doorbell rings. ross and you lock eyes, confused; you hand him the onesie, without looking to see his reaction, and hurry downstairs to answer the door. nearing it, you can see a familiar mess of dark curls through the glass panes, which comes into focus as you open the door.

across the threshold, laden with a mixture of gift and shopping bags, stands an extremely tanned and beaming matty. "surprise!" he cries, ever the drama queen. "there she is, my new favourite milf!"

"eww, freak," you faux-grumble, pulling him as best you can into a hug while avoiding being bashed by his bags. "come in. how was louis' wedding?"

"well, you know my brother. it was full-on, but good," replies matty, following you into the hallway and putting his stuff down on the ground. "would've been better if someone hadn't stolen the limelight by going into labour the day of the rehearsal dinner, though. it was all anyone could talk about - everyone got off their flights into milan and immediately went 'did you hear baby macdonald's on the way?'. you couldn't have kept your legs shut for a few more days?"

you glare at matty for a few seconds, then the two of you break into snorts of laughter. aside from your literal husband, matty is the person in the band you're closest to; the two of you are best friends, a double act built on awful senses of humour and dubiously-fake pretentiousness, and he's the only person in the world who loves ross almost as much as you do.

when you stop laughing, matty places both hands on your shoulders and looks at you from arm's length-away. "nah, for real, you look well. i'm glad," he says, smiling earnestly at you and hugging you properly. he then claps his hands together once, a signifier of a change in conversation topic. "now - where's my best friend, and where's this new baba i've heard so much about?"

"in her room," you say as you nod towards the staircase. you begin to climb up, matty hot on your heels. his obvious excitement is quite touching, but you can't resist throwing a dig at him whenever possible. "and she has a name, you know."

"a flipping indecipherable one" your friend mutters under his breath.

you whip around when you reach the first landing, glaring at him seriously this time. "don't you fucking start, healy."

matty raises his hands in defensive apology. "christ, sorry! i just don't know how to pronounce some scottish names. is it like eye- oh."

you've reached the baby's room, where ross stands in the doorway with your daughter in his arms. she looks so small against him, one tiny hand reaching up in an attempt to play with the cord of his hoodie. your husband grins at matty - standing statue-still with an awestruck expression - and speaks softly. "matthew, this is eilidh."

you both watch your friend watch your daughter, his mouth moving soundlessly as he inputs the pronunciation of her name into his brain. ay-ly. matty's eyes, which appear to be welling up, flick up to ross', and he sniffles through a grin. "god, rass, you're such a dilf."

"agreed," you pipe up, smirking at your husband.

ross shifts the still-awake eilidh so she's tucked safely into the curve of one arm and laughs, minding his volume so as to not freak her out. with the other, he reaches for his best friend; they each wrap an arm around the other's shoulders, as they must have done a million times in their lives. "so, what d'you think of your new goddaughter?"

for the second time in less than five minutes, matty freezes. his jaw drops, and he looks between ross' face and yours in utter shock. "for real? i'm her godfather?" you nod, smiling, and matty's eyes start to well up again. he leans over to look at eilidh, who placidly returns his gaze, and the tears begin to fall. "she's so- oh my god, she's wearing self-titled merch!"

matty crouches to the floor and covers his face, fully sobbing. ross quirks his lip at you in confusion, then pats matty's head gently with his free hand. "i know, mate, her outfit did me in too."

"she's just so little," comes the reply from the floor, voice wracked with sobs. matty drags himself up to standing, wiping his eyes. "christ, i can't cope."

for some inane reason, your maternal instinct seems to kick in at the sight of him. you walk over to your friend and wrap your arms around him comfortingly; matty rests his head on your shoulder, his chest still heaving sporadically as he continues to cry. "what's all this about, mate?" you say softly, in a tone not dissimilar to the one you use to address your month-old daughter. "i thought you hated kids?"

"i do, mostly," matty replies, voice muffled by your (ross') hoodie. he begins crying harder again. "but she's half of two of my favourite people in the world, so she's perfect, and she's just so tiny!"

you're not sure if it's the postnatal hormones coursing through you, or if it's pride in getting matthew healy to be serious and emotional for once, but you feel your bottom lip tremble the way it does before you start to cry. ross, too, is welling up as he wraps his free arm around matty; soon, the only person in the room not crying is eilidh, who stares at you all in what appears to be judgement. matty is the first to notice her expression, a laugh lifting his tear-stricken cheeks. "wow, kid, you really do look like your mum."

you smack matty lightly on the back of the head, moving to stand next to your husband and daughter. you lift eilidh out of ross' arms, holding her up so your faces are level; she beams toothlessly at you, chubby hands reaching for your cheeks, earning a short refrain of "awws" from your audience. after kissing her on the forehead briefly, you turn her so she's between you and ross, all three members of your little family facing matty. "right, we need you to settle an argument."

matty's brow furrows. "oh?"

ross rolls his eyes. "jesus, not this again."

you ignore your husband's input and continue talking. "yeah. whose nose has she inherited, mine or his? we can't tell."

"hmmmm," matty ponders. he steps closer to the three of you, scrutinising ross first, then you, then stops in front of eilidh, directly addressing her. "i don't know whose nose you got either, darlin', but on you it is very, very cute."

he punctuates the end of his sentence with a tentative boop to your daughter's tiny nose, which makes her gurgle happily. matty giggles, and you turn to look lovingly at ross, who reciprocates your expression as he helps you hold eilidh.

matty steps back again, surveying the scene before him adoringly; his two best friends and the baby they made together, the love in the room palpable in the air. "i love you guys. this just feels... right. like this is how life was always supposed to be for you."

you're inclined to agree.

#here's some fluff have fun #can u tell i had a domestic dream about ross recently?#mads does writing #ross macdonald #ross macdonald x reader #ross macdonald fluff #ross macdonald fanfiction #ross macdonald fic #the 1975

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