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growup-thatbeautiful · 1 year

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I love all your fics!!!! I wondering if I could please request imagine (Triple Frontier) Ben Miller x shy girlfriend reader and both your infant son is mommy boy. Pretty adorable like every single day walking around the building, waiting for Ben or after the MMA fights, being both his good luck charms 💙💙💙💙💙💙💙

A/n: you’re a genius, lovely! this is post-canon so i don’t have to deal with tom :) also, i spent so much time choosing the gif because i kept getting distracted about how pretty they are (the tf boys and the gifs)

Warnings: none :) reader has a kid, so if that’s not your thing don’t read!

triple frontier masterlist

Good Luck Charm

The brick wall of the gym hallway is cool against your shoulder from where you’re leaning against it. The smell of clean linoleum and the hum of the fluorescents above you provide a timeless cocoon for the sleeping bundle in your arms to nuzzle in closer to your chest.

“Good morning, Jules,” you coo softly when the bundle opens his eyes. “Have a good nap?” You get a bleary-eyed stare in response. Julian, named after Benny’s mom Julia, slowly blinks at you before spitting out his pacifier, spit following behind.

“Baby, why’d you do that?” you ask him. “You want your paci.” Sure enough, his face starts to turn red and you see his throat work up an upset whimper. Before he can start to fuss to much, though, you press the pacifier back into his mouth. Contentment settles on his face and his eyes slide back closed.

Distantly, you can hear the yelling crowd from the gym, and you don’t know how Jules is sleeping at all. The crowd is larger than normal on account of the sizable opponent Benny is fighting, hence the reason you’re waiting in the hallway instead of watching the fight.

You used to watch all of his matches when you where dating- you couldn’t get enough of the thrill of watching your Benny up on that platform, fighting with all of his strength to win. But, as you got more attached to him, it got harder to watch him take punches, especially when you had Julian.

Even if you aren’t in the room, it doesn’t stop you from thinking about Benny. The fight hasn’t started yet, which means that he’s probably in the locker room down the hall getting hyped up by the guys. As clear as if he was right in front of you, you see him wrap his hands carefully with bandages and gloves, his wedding band around a cord on his neck that holds his dog tags.

Will’s probably giving him some sort of pep talk with Santiago tagging on any information he deems helpful, which usually isn’t. Frankie, quiet and composed, os sitting on the bench, sizing up the opponent and searching for any weaknesses. They make quiet the group of men together. All there for Benny, even though none of them have to do this anymore.

When the crowd’s cheers grow louder, you know Benny’s made his way into the gym. Your husband’s always been a town favorite, and tonight there’s some sort of special opponent that he’s facing. You try not to learn all of the details- they usually make you too nervous. Benny knows not to tell you anything the same way you know not to ask questions when you patch him up. Blood, after being with him for so long, isn’t a problem for you anymore.

From somewhere down the hall, a voice calls your name. You could recognize that voice from anywhere, and if that wasn’t a dead giveaway then the loud, expletive-filled Spanish greeting gives him away before you can turn around and tell him that Julian’s asleep. Santiago wraps his arms around you, careful of Julian, and greets you warmly. “Hola, mija. How’s the kid?”

“Trying to sleep,” you respond without any malice at all. “No thanks to you.” He at least looks a little bit ashamed, but that clears away from his face as soon as Frankie steps next to him.

“Jesus, Pope, could you be any louder?” Frankie says, patting you roughly on the shoulder with a grin. “You think you would learn how to be around kids after all this time, ¿eh cabròn?”

“Thanks, Frank.” Santi’s voice is dripping with its usual sarcasm and sass, but all of you are used to it by now. 99% of what Santi says can be taken with a grain of salt.

In the gym, Benny’s name is announced over the loudspeaker and the lights start flashing rapidly. “I guess that’s your que to go,” you say. “Wouldn’t want you to miss anything.”

“Can we convince you to join us?” Frankie asks. Because it’s Frankie, you know he means the offer. If you asked him, he would take care of Julian while you went to see Benny, and you would trust him fully to do so. After two of his own kids, Frankie knows how to take care of all kinds of disasters, and you know his gentleness applies to anyone he considers family.

But you just don’t think that you watching is a good idea. “Nah, it’s okay, Frankie. Maybe next time.” Both of you know you’ll say the exact same thing next time too, but you always appreciate the offer.

With a knowing look, Frankie nods and leads Santiago down the hall with him into the crowded, hazy gym. You turn your attention back to Julian, who looks content in his dinosaur onesie. It was a gift from Will, and Benny wanted Julian to show support for his uncles.

The rest of the fight passes in a the crowds oohs and aahs and you can only pay so much attention to it before it starts to make you too anxious. Realistically, you know Benny can handle whoever it is he’s fighting. You heard accidentally that there’s a pound difference between them, but Benny’s fast for someone his size and you know that he can his own. Plus, he’s got a hearty amount of backup in case something goes wrong. The worst you’ve ever had to patch up in a long is a bloody nose or bruised ribs, and even then Benny usually knows how to take care of himself more than you do.

Eventually, you hear the triumphant roars reach a crescendo and the announcer calls out Benny as the winner. Pride fills your chest as you whisper to Julian. “Daddy won his fight, Jules. Just like we told him to.” Julian, waking up due to the raised noise levels, looks at you through squinted blue eyes just like his father’s.

As people trickle past you through the back exit, you make your way into the locker room where you know Benny and the guys will be as soon as Benny’s cleared by the unofficial doctor on site. It must not have been close at all because they show up after only a few minutes, cheering and yelling their way through the door.

When Benny sees you, a grin lights up his face, as if it’s a surprise to see you there. Like you would ever miss a fight.

With one strong arm wrapped around your waist, he pulls you in to a bruising kiss. “Honey,” he mutters against your lips, “I think you might be my good luck charm.”

Even after all these years, your heart still swells at his words, at the idea of Benny being just as enamored with you as you are with him. “I think Julian might be part of it too.”

With a grin, Benny looks down at the baby between you. “Hey, bud,” he greets, two sandy blond-haired heads looking at each other. While you’re the one who can seemingly always get Jules to sleep, Benny always wakes him up. Luckily, though, Julian is usually happy when he sees Benny. You can’t blame him. “How was your day with mama?”

“He had a rough day at school,” you explain softly to Benny, looking at Julian. “Apparently he was fussy.”

Benny scoffs and carefully takes Julian when you offer him. If it was anyone else covered in sweat and blood, you would say no, but you know Benny’s at least washed his hands. “My baby? Never. He’s an angel.”

“Sure, honey,” you respond, happy to see the twinkle in Benny’s eye. He may not agree, but you know there’s nothing that makes him in a better mood than winning and having his family there. “How was the fight?”

Benny’s grin spreads across his face and takes on a confidence that you usually don’t see outside of your home. “Not even close. He didn’t see a fuckin’ thing coming.”

“Benny,” you sigh, gesturing to Julian. “I’ll let it slide because you just won.”

“Good luck getting Pope to stop. His favorite words aren’t appropriate for kids,” Benny says in return, but you know he’s trying. His language is already better than it used to be. “Isn’t that right, Jules?”

Jules responds with a happy noise, one that just makes Benny’s grin even wider. You can’t help but appreciate the sight before you; your two beaming boys with each other, your family together.

Yeah, you’re going to keep coming to his fights. Maybe your his good luck charm, maybe you’re not, but nothing could possibly stop you from seeing Benny like this.

Happy. Content. Loved.

“Come here, honey,” Benny calls to you, and who are you to say no. Carefully, you let yourself be wrapped in Benny’s arms, your head on the warm muscle of his shoulder. “Thanks for coming tonight.”

“Of course,” you whisper. “We’re your good luck charms, right?”

“Absolutely,” he agrees. You ignore the whistling and cheering of Santi and Frankie and the over-exaggerated gagging of Will. “Nothin’ like you, sweetheart. Or you-” he looks down at Julia “-bud.”

You can’t help but agree.

#i’ve been talking with my friends about how much i want kids recently so this is perfect nonnie <3 #nova answers #this is adorable #triple frontier #benny miller #benjamin miller #ben miller #benny miller fanfic #benny miller x female reader #benny miller fic #benny miller x reader #benny miller fanfiction #benny miller x you #benny miller x y/n #benjamin miller x you #triple frontier fanfiction #triple frontier fic #triple frontier boys

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walker-extended-universe · 5 days

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Walkerverse Character Tier List

Hello Walker Family! I'm here announcing the beginning of the Walkerverse Character Tier List series!

I've created a list of characters from Walker and Walker: Independence to put in a tier list ranking. I will be releasing a series of polls with all these characters (including pictures and brief reminders of their roles) to determine which Tier List ranking they get. Whichever option from S to F gets the most votes will become the official ranking of that character.

Here is the criteria I used to select the characters I'm putting in the poll series:

They must have a name on the imdb page

They must have a minimum of two appearances

I have to remember them, regardless of their appearance count

Single appearances that were special/memorable will also be included (ex: Uncle Willy, Minnie Jayne)

The rankings will be as follows:

S tier: Best character in the show, love them with all my heart, they can do literally nothing wrong

A tier: Beloved blorbo, one of my favorites, I'd want to be friends with them if they were real

B tier: I like them, but I have my critiques. A good character that I mostly enjoy

C tier: Mid character, not the biggest fan of them but I won't complain when they show up

D tier: I don't like them. I have many criticisms of their actions and personality. I may even dislike whole episodes because of them

F tier: Literally the worst character in the entire show. Hate them. Much dislike. I fastforward over them on rewatches.

I currently have pictures (for the poll and the complete tierlist that I will link when it is public) for 39 of the 120+ characters I put on the list, so that's where I will be starting. I will include the full list of all the characters from both shows below the cut along with the taglist.

The first poll will go up on Monday, September 23rd! Can't wait to see what you guys think!

@theladywyn, @jaredwalkertexasranger, @laf-outloud, @aborddelimpala, @mysterybeau, @sweet-sammy-kisses, @kickingitwithkirk, @rhl74, @peachparakeet, @dumb-fawkin-bitch, @loveforwomenstuff, @low-soduimfreak, @ihavepointysticks, @waywardmaslow, @arte-mishuntress, @the-slythering-raven, @deeranger, @duo-kun, @inafieldofdaisies, @not-your-housekeeper98, @nancymcl, @sammysnaughtygirl

Walker:

Cordell Walker

Liam Walker

Abeline Walker

Bonham Walker

Stella Walker

August Walker

Larry James

Trey Barnett

Geri Broussard

Cassie Perez

Micki Ramirez

Colton Davidson

Ben Perez

Dan Miller

Denise Davidson

Emily Walker

Todd

Gale Davidson

Stan Morrison

Clay Cooper

Clint West

Kelly James

Kevin Golden

Isabel Munoz

Bret

Trevor Strand

Ruby

Detective David Luna

Julia Johnson

Hoyt Rawlins

Twyla Jean

Sadie Yoo

Witt

Connie

Faye

DJ James

Keesha Barnett

Carlos Mendoza

Officer Randall

Dr. Adriana Ramirez

Sean

Serano

Earl

Mercedes Ruiz

Miles Vyas

Coach Bobby

Principal Heaney

Byron Santos

Garrison (GM)

Nate Smith

Tessa Graves

Crystal West

Cali

Rita

Lana Jones

Tommy Adams

Jaxon Davis

Grant McLawson

Neo

Mike

Horace

Alma Munoz

Fenton Cole

Shannon

Lorezno Munoz

Snyder

Oswald

Marv Davidson

Jim

Mr. Golden

Spider

William

Owen Campbell

Minnie Jayne

Maybelline

Mehar

Henry

Becca Furgeson

Joanna Rawlins

Cole Tillman

Rebecca Tillman

Walker: Independence:

Abigail Walker

Hoyt Rawlins

Kate Carver

Tom Davidson

Augustus

Calian

Kai

Lucia Reyes

Shane Davidson

Hagan

Chief Taza

Francis Reyes

Luis Reyes

Ruby

Nascha

Ethan (Pinkerton Detective)

Salty Dog

Molly Sullivan

Anna Maria Reyes

Cordell the Horse

Burlesque Dancers

Teresa Davidson

Matthew

Jacob

Otis Clay

Martha Sullivan

Griffin

Liam Collins

Eli McDowd

Charlotte “Charlie” Collins

Gil Santiago

Randall

Lily

Stella Rawlins

Wordell Calker

Olivia

Topsannah

Amos Acorn

Parker Briggs

Judge Parker

Kirby Smith

Andrew Jones

Judge Carter

#walker #walker: independence #walkerverse #walkerverse tier list #walker family #walker event

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pjshermann · 8 months

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Harold Headcanons

He always wanted to become a writer. His ambition to study law was something that came later in life, in his adolescence. But ever since he was a young child, he loved to write. He’s proud of his work as a law professor, but the real pride of his career are the books he’s written.

After adopting Jude, he went to visit his parents’ graves and told them about his new son. He wished they could have gotten to meet Jude before they passed. He’s knows that they would’ve loved him. -

Before he went grey, his hair was a very dark, almost jet black colour

You have @bombaciouscaboose to thank for this one, but I headcanon that after Jude’s attempt, while he was still unconscious, Harold would sit by his side and read from the Torah or recite prayers. He was never the religious sort, but he found himself turning to prayer after nearly losing Jude

Besides his insatiable sweet-tooth, his favourite kind of food is anything and everything Italian.

His first date with Julia was inviting her over to his place and cooking her dinner. The food was a disaster, but they had a great time regardless, eating takeout in Harold’s living room

Keeps Jude’s law graduation photo on his desk. Both at his home study desk and his office desk at his university. (I actually wrote a fic about this teehee check it out on my ao3 PJShermann)

When Laurence had his twin daughters, he gave both of them the middle name "Harriet" after Harold. Harold cried when he found out.

When he and Laurence were in law school, they had made a similar pact/plan to what Jude and Willem had made for the Camino de Santiago pilgramage route, only theirs was the Via Francigena pilgramage route. The year they were meant to take the trip, was the year Jacob fell ill. They never went.

Speaks a little Russian, because he learned from his grandparents. Though now he can only remember a few phrases and lullabies (one of which he sang to Jude when he had his episode) because he stopped speaking it after they passed.

Actually doesn't really care much for gardening, but Julia wanted a garden in their house, so he helped her plant one and contributed to it's maintenance. When Jude comes along, although he's happy enough to delegate the maintenance to him, he hangs around outside while Jude gardens. He finds that it's during this, and while Jude is cooking, that Jude seems his most peaceful, most relaxed, and he's more likely to hum or sing quietly to himself, so Harold likes to be around to be able to witness it.

Out the four boys, the one who reminds him the most of Jacob in terms of his personality, is surprisingly, Malcolm.

Got his love of writing from his biological mother. Though he hardly knew her since she died when he was too young to remember and Adele was a constant mother-like presence throughout his life, his father gave him his mother's old journals, within which she wrote almost every day, up until the day she died. When he wrote his first book, after his father read it, he'd said to him "You write like your mother did".

Liesl was the one who first asked him out, instead of the other way around. They met through a high-school friend of Harold's, whom Liesl was cousins with. Their first date was to see the opera The Tales of Hoffmann

Get's his affinity for petnames from his father. He used petnames often for Jacob (Buddy, sweetie, my darling) but with Jude, he didn't use them simply because (without knowing really why) he felt Jude might be uncomfortable with them.

He kept a collection of all of the little knicknacks and gifts his grandfather used to give to him. It's why he usually gives Willem a little toy or trinket on his birthday.

On November 10th, the anniversary of Jacob's passing, he takes a long trek around the city and doesn't come back until very late. Part of the reason why he's so ecstatic around Thanksgiving is to deflect from the knowledge that it's the month that Jacob passed in.

Was on his high-school's tennis team as a teen, and they went all the way to nationals (Though they ended up losing then)

When he first met Willem, he hadn't remembered him from the men's suit store he frequented and Willem worked at, until Willem mentioned it to him.

#a little life #a little life play #harold stein #jude st francis #een klein leven #a little life book #headcanons #a little life headcannons

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tropes-and-tales · 2 years

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Fairy Godmother

December 18: Gifts/Fluffy - Single parent (Santiago Garcia x F!reader)

(From the winter prompts found here)

CW: Angst; mutual pining; idiots in love; the same sorta plot to an earlier piece I did

Word Count: 2146

AN: Requested by anon!

The doorbell rings twenty minutes sooner than Santiago expected, which shouldn’t surprise him: you always show up early.

Sophie answers the door. His daughter has no concept of time (he’d been trying to explain when you’d arrive, but finally got exasperated and settled on ‘soon’). She’s been hovering by the front door for hours, hopping around like a bunny high on sugar, and when the doorbell finally chimes, Soph lets out an ear-piercing shriek.

“She’s here!” she screams, and she’s opening the door without checking out the window, but of course it’s you. Twenty minutes early. Like always.

And like always the first five minutes of your arrival is just you and Sophie—hugging each other, you twirling her around, the two of you exclaiming over each other. Santi is just an afterthought.

Still, when you finally turn to him and give him that soft smile…when you walk over to him and hug him, when you murmur that he looks good…he doesn’t feel like an afterthought at all. He feels, for a bright moment, like he’s the center of your world.

-----

He’s only known you for about as long as Soph’s been alive, so five years. When Santi’s girlfriend, Julia, got pregnant, she had chosen you to be the godmother. Best friends from college, she said, and the best woman for the job.

Santi can’t deny that fact, five years later.

None of it went down the way he thought. He had a ring ready to go, ready to propose after Julia gave birth to Sophie. When she started disappearing for days at a time, Santi had thought it post-partum depression.

You had helped so much in those first months—him trying to juggle a newborn and a wayward girlfriend. You took leave from work, crashed on his couch. Took the night shifts when Sophie was colicky so he could sleep. Listened to Santi rant about the situation. Listened with grace and understanding, even though he was ranting about your best friend.

Julia returned only to disappear again. When she was home, she barely even looked at Sophie, preferred to hand her off to you or him. She disappeared for good—moved out west, took up with a new man—when Sophie was six months old, and you helped him then too.

“I love Julie like a sister,” you had told him. “But she’s always been like this. Flighty. Unreliable. She ghosts on everyone and everything.”

“Even her own daughter?” His voice had cracked on the last word, the weight of the situation pressing down on him until he felt like he’d be bowed underneath the burden for the rest of his life.

“Even her own daughter,” you agreed. “I thought she might change once she gave birth but…I guess people can’t really change who they are.”

“Look.” You reached out, put your hand on his shoulder, peered at him earnestly. “You can do this, Santiago. You have people who can help. The guys. Me.”

You were right. He was able to do it. He is doing it. He does it every day: parents his daughter as best he can, and given how happy and healthy Sophie seems, he guesses he’s doing okay.

-----

You stuck around for a long while, but when Sophie turned four and started in preschool, you backed off. Took a job that had you traveling all the time. It had come out of nowhere, and the sudden loss of you felt like a punch to the gut after so many years of having you there…

“Thought you had a handle on things now,” you had told him at the time. “Don’t need me hanging around anymore.”

He had tried to tell you then—of course he needs you. He knows he’d be in a far different place—darker, sadder—if it hadn’t been for you.

But you stay in touch, as much for your goddaughter as for him. You call, you send colorful letters for him to read to Sophie. You send souvenirs from your travels around the world—usually for his daughter but sometimes for him too.

And now you’re here for the holidays. He had asked if you wanted to come and was surprised when you accepted. He had been a flurry of activity to get the house extra-clean, extra-decorated. He wanted to make it magical for both Sophie and you, because by then—five years after the fact and for no other reason than because he loves you, even if in secret—he thought of you as his.

He wants to make it magical for his girls.

-----

It takes two hours longer than usual to get Sophie to bed that night because there’s double the excitement: it’s Christmas Eve and you’re here for the week. You do the bedtime duties and read her a book, and then a second and a third until Santi uses his stern voice and tells his daughter that Santa won’t stop at their house if she’s not asleep.

-----

“Want a beer?” he asks, and you say you do. He hooks a few from the fridge, hands yours to you. Cracks the cap on his and takes a sip.

“The place looks wonderful, Santi.” You gesture to the tree, the swags of pine festooned on the mantle. The lights, the stockings, including the one he got for you. “Really good work.”

“Thanks.”

“Need any help with anything?”

He nods, fixes you with a grin. “Wanna help me put the presents under the tree?”

-----

He didn’t go overboard. Or at least, he tried not to. He’s mindful that Soph, as an only child to a single father, is at high risk of being spoiled. So he took her wish list for Santa and halved it. It doesn’t hurt a child to want things, he guesses.

“Jesus,” you say, your voice laced with awe as he carries in another box of wrapped gifts. “Did you leave any for the other kids?”

He sets the box down on the floor where you’re settled, trying to rearrange the pile of presents he’s already brought out. He joins you on the floor.

“That’s the last of it.” A beat. “Is it that bad?”

You reach for your beer and take a drink. “I mean, she’s one little girl…”

“Okay, but some of this is from my mom. The guys each sent a gift…” He tries not to sound defensive and realizes he’s failing.

“I already put my gift under there.” You point to a large present wrapped in silvery paper near the back. “It’s a stuffed dog. Extremely fluffy.”

“She’ll love it.”

“And your gift is there too.” You point in the same direction, to a flat box wrapped in the same silvery paper.

“Not a stuffed dog?”

You smile. “It is not.”

He turns to the box of gifts, starts placing them under the tree. He doesn’t look at you when he says, “you just being here is gift enough.”

You take a gift from his hand, place it carefully on top of another. “Fatherhood’s turned you sappy,” you tease.

“I’m serious.”

“I’m serious too. I’m the one who should be thanking you. For inviting me. For letting me crash during the holidays.”

He rolls his eyes, turns to face you. “Are you serious? You never need an invitation to come here.”

You reach out, pluck another gift from the box, but you toy with the edge of the wrapping paper, tracing your thumbnail over the seam. “I guess.”

It’s been a strange evening. You were chatty, playful with Soph over dinner and during bedtime, but you seem different with him. Subdued. Formal, almost.

As if you hadn’t seen him cry from exhaustion and worry. As if you hadn’t pulled him from the edge of a nervous breakdown years ago.

“What’s going on?” he asks, gentle. “Have you been away so long that we’re strangers now?”

“…no.”

“Then what’s up?”

You don’t say anything for a long while. You turn the wrapped gift over and over in your hands, fiddling with it. Before Sophie, Santi would have lost his patience, would have snapped and asked you to stop stalling. Now that he’s a parent of a young child, though, his patience is boundless.

“A year’s a long time,” is all you offer at first.

He takes the gift out of your hands, sets it under the tree. “Not that long.”

There’s another long stretch of quiet before you say, “I didn’t want to step on any toes, I guess.”

“Whose toes?”

You inhale, push the words out quick. “If you were seeing someone. Their toes.”

Santi laughs at the idea of him seeing someone. He has no time whatsoever. His job, taking care of Soph…he’s lucky he has time to breathe. And anyway, you’re the only person he wants to see, and you’re here now, so—

His laughter hits you wrong because you push your shoulders up near your ears and mumble something he can’t make out.

“I’m not seeing anyone. Hell, I don’t have time for that. Or the desire for it.” He takes the laughter out of his voice, and he lays a hand on your arm. Waits until you glance at him before he asks, “why would you think that?”

A shrug. “Tom said something.”

It surprises Santi. “When did you talk to Tom?”

“Before I left. Before I took the job.”

“Wait…what?” He had no idea you talked to Tom all the way back then. He reaches back and finds no memory at all of you talking to Tom, though he can find plenty of you talking with the other guys, with Frankie and the Miller brothers…

Another shrug, so terse it’s more like a twitch of your shoulders. “Sophie’s fourth birthday. Tom made a joke that didn’t really sound like a joke, once I thought about it.”

He feels his stomach drop to the floor. “What did he say?” he asks, and he keeps his voice low, level, even though he can already guess. Tom is a champion asshole.

“I don’t…it’s fine, Santi.”

He squeezes your arm lightly. “What did he say?”

“It’s embarrassing.”

Another squeeze to your arm, reassuring. “Oh, spare me. You’ve seen me bawling my eyes out because I was melting down. Hell, remember when I had the flu and food poisoning that time? We’re past anything being embarrassing.”

You pull your arm away, glance at him, then turn away. “He insinuated that I was just hanging around to step into Julie’s shoes. Joked and said I was lazy, trying to get a ready-made family.”

“Shit. I mean…shit.” It makes sense now, far too late: why you suddenly pivoted away from him and Sophie, took that job that kept you away from him. Why you are so unlike yourself now, no longer comfortable with him.

“I wasn’t, you know.” Without a present in your hands, you twist your hands in your lap, bend your head to study your nails. “Trying to take over for her.”

“Oh, sweetheart.” Santi can hear the misery in your tone. The defensiveness. He knows how rough Tom’s version of joking can be, and he realizes too late that the damned idiot sent you on a spiral that sent you away from them. From him. Kept the dumb joke festering in you, even a year later.

He scooches over to you, puts an arm around your shoulders. You resist him for a second, then sigh and lean your head against him. He rests his chin in your head, and he takes in a deep breath of the scent of you. A green, earthy scent like the outdoors after a rain shower.

“You could never take over for her,” he says quietly. “She walked out on us. You stayed here and took care of us. Why would you take over when you’ve already done so much more?”

“I guess.”

“I know. And Tom’s a dick.”

“He does give off especially dickish vibes.”

He chuckles, holds you tighter to him. He’s angry at Tom, but he can deal with that later. He’s angry at the lost time, that you never said anything to him. That you obviously have your own feelings that you’re dealing with, and he wonders at how closely they hew to his own feelings.

He brings up none of that now. He can try to tease it out tomorrow, after Sophie has unwrapped her gifts and collapsed in a post-morning nap on the couch. Or maybe tomorrow evening, the two of you can have some of his famous laced eggnog and talk. Maybe he can plumb the depths of unspoken things between you and the resultant year apart.

“Glad you’re here now,” he murmurs. “Christmas wouldn’t be the same without you.”

You burrow your head against him a little more. “I’m glad I’m here too.”

#Santiago Garcia #santiago garcia imagine #santiago garcia x reader #Triple Frontier #tropes-and-tales #winter prompts 2022

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