#forgive me i just did a lot of coke
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i love taking adventure time figuratively in general but there's something very, very screwed and potent about f+c when you read simon petrikov as an addition allegory. Especially when you know how hard betty tried to "fix" him and know that it took her (a symbol of his life pre-crown and a catalyst to his insanity) ruining her own life trying to get him "back", reconnecting with him then, in a way, dying, to compell him to return to his sober, conscious state - but no more mentally stable than he was the first time he slipped. If anything, worse.
Then bring in the artistic success of a book he doesn't even remember writing (remember f+c was not the first book he wrote, with Betty, no less) to add insult to injury. Its relateable. Then his desperate attempts to psychically connect with Betty, when hes just had it shoved in his face again how he was "cooler" and more fun and made better stuff when he was under the influence, and failing so hard, is completely understandable.
Remember, Prismo doesn't control f+c and their world. Simon does. Simon manifested her as a real person. He did. It's HIS fault this is happening, even if he feigns ignorance. He did it deliberately, to affirm his decision. He made Fionna parrot back to him his OWN depressive spiral: paraphrased, "the magic is gone" "it was better before" "living like this isn't worth it", in the form of ANOTHER young girl on hard times who he ties himself into knots for trying to harness this "magic", that in his mind, is almost a necessity to have any chance at being able to bear day-to-day life. Remember how he called Marceline hours before he pulled Fionna out of his head, just to find out she didn't need him?
He's just fortunate he started to use Fionna to work through all his problems at the same time he was exacerbating them, and fortunate that it took her, however fictionalized, going from an excited participant and influencee of his intentions to relapse saying he was right, it was better before, we can't do this, to looking at him "before" and saying "wait, this is wrong, this is self-destructive, we shouldn't do this" to make him see that. When fionna got the magic back, everything was just even more horrifying, and she felt terrible about leading simon back into that, shoved into a freezer, metaphorically speaking. And that really makes sense to me idk. I get it. Idk how else to say it:
#forgive me i just did a lot of coke#fionna and cake#atimers#adventure time#does this make ANY sense lol. basically the whole series took place in simon's own head as cliche as it sounds. of course it didnt. i know#fionna and cake are just as real#but when you read it the way the narrative and emotion and psychology of it all points#yeah you get this.#Spotify
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─── 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐑
+ itoshi rin x f!reader | wc 1.6k | content: fluff, friends to lovers, college au, slightly suggestive at the end, mutual pining ?
note: hmmm okay rin may be doing things to me @_@ i rarely write for him so forgive me if this is ass but !!! ily rin <3
summary: you and rin are both oblivious to each other’s feelings. but maybe one push is all you need.
it doesn’t make sense why he’s so nervous. you’re still you and he’s still him and nothing’s changed except for the acquisition of some personal information. coming from blunt bangs too, nonetheless.
two weeks ago.
“hey, y/n-chan, you’re single right?” bachira asked, casually as he could while the both of you were on the same train back home.
you were startled, but still shook your head all the same. bachira and rin were teammates, so naturally you two knew of each other, but you couldn’t remember the last time you ever spoke to him. you only remembered that rin liked calling him blunt bangs. and then he started getting a little sulky after you called bachira’s hair cute.
“just wondering, have you ever thought of getting together with rin-chan?”
bachira had been swaying along with the train, his hands gripped firmly on the hanging handles. that wasn’t what you were fixated on though, because his question threw you off, the heat shooting to your cheeks the moment you processed it.
“w-what do you mean?”
you had been flustered, but bachira remained oblivious as ever. (lucky for you.) he tilted his face upwards, staring at the train ceiling, carefully picking his words.
“well, you and rin-chan spend a lot of time together, just wondering if you both ever tried anything.”
it came off sounding a lot more suggestive than anything, but knowing bachira, you doubted he meant anything other than the simple fact of considering getting together.
and it wasn’t like you didn’t. because of course you did. you couldn’t spend so much time with someone like rin and not feel anything.
you’d known rin since freshman year, since you both kept to yourselves at this one party, bumping into each other at the corner of the room, awkwardly shuffling your feet and trying to ignore the other as much as you could.
you caved first; your want for a friend in that party overtook your shyness, and luckily for you, rin entertained you that night. he took you up on your offer to get out of there, away from the loud bass and drunk teenagers and onto a more quiet destination—the supper spot near your dorms.
since then, you’d found a lot of common ground and somehow, you just seeped into rin’s life. just like that. you couldn’t say anything for him, but you’d thought he was attractive since the first moment you laid eyes on him. plus, rin was such a hot topic on campus, you’d just sort of eliminated the possibilities of being together with him entirely.
he was out of your league, wasn’t he?
you were happy enough just to be his friend. until bachira asked that question. until you realised that hey, maybe you should explore it. maybe you should tell someone about it. anyone.
so you nodded your head, embarrassed as you may have been.
“don’t tell him, okay?” you warned bachira.
bachira grinned ear to ear. “it’s safe with me!”
evidently, it wasn’t, rin thinks now—looking at bachira and isagi egging him on. after bachira acquired said information, he had ran straight to rin’s dorm and spilled the beans.
rin pulls up a mental reminder: do not ever share secrets with bachira under any circumstances. ever.
which is also why, after multiple instances of persuasion and letting slip that maybe he’s into you too, rin is keeping bachira under close scrutiny. he’s not even sure whether you’ll show up tonight, at the soccer team’s victory party. from past experiences, you do.
“you should tell her how you feel,” bachira says again, eliciting a sigh out of rin.
“mind your own business, blunt bangs,” rin murmurs, drinking his diet coke.
isagi nudges him lightly. “she’s pretty in-demand right? i heard that some other guys from our team has their eyes on her too.”
it manages to perk rin’s ears, and it’s too late for him to realise it’s all a ploy, because isagi’s snickering the moment rin opens his mouth, earning a slap on the back of his head.
“fuck off with that already.”
“yeah yeah, you gotta strike while the iron’s hot,” bachira chimes in, only further agitating rin. “actions maketh the man or whatever.”
“don’t just throw around every phrase you learned,” he retorts. rin’s fists are clenched at his side, remembering why he used to go to these alone. gotta be better than having to listen to these two idiots.
then, a familiar giggle sounds from behind him, and rin freezes up almost immediately (to the amusement of his two friends). “what am i missing out on here?”
bachira opens up his mouth but isagi claps his hand over him almost instantaneously. for once, rin’s thankful that at least one of them has more tact than the other. you can only watch on with confusion as isagi drags bachira away, citing some lame excuse about how they had to check on the other guests.
they’re not even the hosts.
“your friends are acting weird, rin,” you comment, and rin wholeheartedly agrees. for some reason, he can’t help but notice you more after what bachira revealed to him.
“they’re always weird.”
his eyes survey your body, appreciating how the dress flows so beautifully, how your hair’s done up just perfectly. you’re so pretty too, why didn’t he ever tell you that? probably because he didn’t want you thinking he was some sort of freak. you probably have suitors for days—way out of his league.
“anyway, congratulations on winning the tournament, mvp,” you say teasingly, winking, your heart skipping beats when you catch the slight crimson falling on his cheeks as he looks away.
for some reason, being able to see rin like this, where everyone else only gets to see the more stoic side of him makes you feel special. it may be a case of delusion, but you don’t mind.
you expect some sort of quip, something like how their win was expected and not something worth congratulating. but instead, through his red ears and awkward eye contact, he tells you a curt thanks before he goes back to excessively sipping his diet coke.
“did something happen?” you ask, nearly making rin choke on air, he realises, because he’s gulped down his entire drink.
“no,” he answers, a little too harshly, before he reigns himself in. rin doesn’t really want to be the one to broach the subject, but he really doesn’t want to risk going home tonight without knowing for sure how you feel.
screw bachira’s intel—rin wants to hear it from your own lips, wants to be there to see and hear you confess.
“bachira told me about it.” rin feels you stiffen up beside him this time. but you don’t say a word. that’s fine though. he started it, he may as well see this through. “do you- still feel that way?”
thankfully, you don’t like to torture him, automatically knowing what he’s referring to, probably already calculated in your head the probability that bachira would’ve ratted you out. then, does that mean you wanted to be found out?
“i- i mean i- um, yeah, yeah i do.” you’re fiddling with your fingers, looking to the side, afraid to meet his eye. you and rin are close as ever, but that makes this all the more awkward. you’ve never really been the type of people to talk about feelings. at least, not until now.
you’re not sure what rin will say or do, and you can hear your heart drumming loud against your chest, beating against your ear.
“i feel the same,” rin blurts out, somehow afraid that if he didn’t, you’d assume otherwise.
his words weigh heavy on your chest before lifting the weight off of it all at the same time. you’re relieved, more than, that he feels the same, that you’re hearing it from his own mouth. but now the both of you are just standing there staring at each other, wondering how on earth you should continue this.
and you do rin a favor, paying him back for starting the conversation at all, by standing on your tiptoes and pulling his collar in, pressing a kiss against his lips, tasting the diet coke lingering on his tongue. by the way his arms wrap around you, by now his kiss gets even deeper by the second, you can tell that you aren’t the only one that’s been dreaming of this.
“ah, rin finally got some balls and confessed huh?”
bachira’s all too familiar voice breaks the moment, although the sound of your laugh helps to ease rin’s disappointment. he’ll get more moments of this, more of you—soon. he doesn’t even have the mood to snap at bachira, only occupied with thoughts of what he wants to do with you.
“see, what’d i tell you, y/n-chan? he likes you too, doesn’t he?”
rin’s face turns a bright red at the realisation. “he told you?” he asks.
you nod, grinning sheepishly. “i read his text just before i got here.” you pull out your phone, showing him the evidence.
[20:48] bachira: y/n!! big news!!!
[20:48] bachira: rin said he likes you too, get over here alr!!!
rin blinks, the timing lining up with exactly when rin expressed that he has been interested in you all this time.
“i’m gonna fucking kill you,” rin deadpans at bachira, isagi already disappearing elsewhere, not wanting to be part of this.
bachira thinks he’s lucky when you tilt rin’s face towards you, kissing him again, distracting him from his ire. he takes this chance to slip away, leaving you two lovebirds alone.
“would you rather deal with him or come home with me, mr itoshi?”
it takes everything in rin not to just sweep you up and take you right here in this room. he mirrors your smirk, a casual hunger burning beneath his teal eyes.
“you, always you.”
#did not proof this but we roll with it …#bllk x reader#rin x reader#itoshi rin x reader#blue lock x reader#rin x you#rin x y/n#rin fluff#bllk x you#bllk x y/n#bllk fluff#blue lock x you#blue lock x y/n#blue lock fluff#rin itoshi x reader#rin itoshi x you#rin itoshi x y/n#rin itoshi fluff#૪ aeri’s fics !
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you too - matt s.
chapter 4 ; ‘don’t leave’
chapter 1
chapter 2
chapter 3
warnings : masturbating, making out (very briefly), swearing
"hey, matt! come in."
matt gives me a slight smile and nods once, reciprocating my greeting. my eyes automatically trail over his body; lanky, hair slightly wet from the light rain trickling outside, nose pink from the ice cold air, tall but not too tall - just enough that i have to tilt my head up to speak to him - and somehow even more attractive than the last time i saw him. i take a step backward and to the side, making room for him to enter my apartment. as he walks in, he places his hands in the front pocket of his grey hoodie and observes my vibrant apartment.
"nice place.", he states. i wait for him to walk in front of me before shutting the door behind him.
"sorry it's such a mess, i would've cleaned up a bit but i wasn't expecting you to come so soon.", i apologise, glancing at my slightly unorganised apartment.
he slowly walks over to the kitchen and i follow close behind.
"don't worry, if you think this is bad you should see my brother and i's place..", he chuckles.
i take another quick glance around my kitchen and living area while giggling at his remark but stop when my eyes trace back to his and find him already looking at me. i feel the tension between us as he smirks and moves his attention to the tv behind me.
"nonstop? i love liam neeson!", he says while smiling wide in recognition of the movie playing and meeting my eyes yet again.
i smile seeing the sudden excitement plastered on his face. lifting myself onto the kitchen counter behind me, i turn my head slightly over my shoulder and look briefly at the tv.
"really? i put it on when i got home from my lecture, guess i forgot to turn it off.", i respond nonchalantly, attempting to hide how happy i am at the discovery of our common interest. i turn my head back to face him.
"did you want a drink? i've got water, coke, lemonade-"
"root beer?", he asks, cutting me off.
i push my body off of the counter i'm sitting on and take a few steps over to the fridge. pulling open the door, i look around for a can of root beer.
"umm.. yep, one left.". i reach into the fridge, grab the drink, and pass it to him with a smile.
"here you go."
"perfect, thanks."
he takes the cold drink from my hand and cracks it open, instantly bringing it to his mouth to take a sip. after a few seconds, i watch as his tongue grazes his lips while he swallows the drink. he lightly bites his bottom lip and places the can on the bench next to him, then crosses his arms at his stomach and leans back onto the wall behind him.
"do you want cash? or would it be easier for me to transfer a couple hundred?", he asks.
"oh, um.. cash should be fine if you've got enough on you. if not i'll take whatever's easiest."
he nods, taking his wallet out from his pocket. he pulls out 3 $100 notes and reaches out to me, placing them in my outstretched hand.
"$300 should be enough. if not just text me and i'll give you whatever you want, okay?", he says with a grin.
whatever i want?
his suggestive offer causes my thighs to squeeze together and my cheeks to tingle with nervousness. of course, i know i want far more from him than just his money.
i nod and he places the wallet back into his pocket. he takes another few sips of his root beer while i try to bring myself out of my imagination and back to the conversation.
"thanks a lot. i really appreciate you doing all this, matt.", i smile, my tone sweet and forgiving.
"like i said, it's the least i can do. i'm the reason your phone is broken in the first place.", he says reassuringly. he brings a hand up and scratches the back of his head, then uses it to push away the stray hairs resting on his forehead. he takes another sip of his root beer, having to tip his head all the way back to get the last bit out of the can. my eyes widen as i watch his neck tilt back, his adam's apple protruding as he swallows. my eyebrows scrunch and my lips effortlessly separate from each other. with his head still tipped back, i take the situation to my advantage and let my eyes travel from his neck down to the faint bulge in his black sweats. i let out a silent breath of air and feel my knees weaken.
i blurt out the first excuse that comes to my mind so that i can be away away from him for a minute.
"i'm just gonna go grab my purse from my room. i'll be back in a sec", i say, starting to walk out of the kitchen without waiting for his response.
i don't even own a purse.
i hear the now empty root beer can being thrown into the bin behind me, followed by matt's voice.
"can i come? i need to go to the bathroom."
shit.
"yeah, of course.", i lie.
i walk down my small hallway, matt following closely behind, and turn left.
"here's the bathroom. my rooms just there when you're done.", i say, motioning to my room on the right side of the hallway. he nods and wanders into the bathroom, closing the door behind him.
matt's pov
standing in the middle of y/n's bathroom, my right hand reaches into my boxers to readjust my dick - which is still hard. if not, even harder.
i'm trying so hard not to, but every time i look at y/n i can't help but imagine her on her knees in front of me, taking all of me in her pretty mouth. i pause for a moment while adjusting my boner to slowly pull it out of my boxers. wrapping my hand around it, i hesitantly slide up and down, watching the precum dripping out of my tip every time. a quiet moan escapes my mouth and i throw my head back, eyes shut tight while i silently please myself. my mind floods with thoughts of y/n moaning my name and my dick grows even harder in my hand, almost painful.
i look back down at my dick, veins covering the surface, my tip pink and wet. i rub my thumb over it to wipe away the precum and slowly place my dick back into my boxers. i pull my sweats back up and glance at myself in the mirror, making sure the huge bulge in my pants is as unnoticeable as possible.
i walk closer to the sink and reach for the soap, pumping some onto my hand and turning the tap to warm. as i rinse the soap off my hands, i feel my dick make contact with the countertop through my pants and i let out a whimper. the sensitivity of my throbbing dick makes even that feel good. i sigh, silently hoping that my boner will go down on its own, and then reach for the door handle.
y/n's pov
i walk into my room and place the $300 from matt on top of my dresser. collapsing onto my bed, i bring my hands to my face and rub my eyes.
i cannot stop thinking about matt.
everything he does, everything he says - it only makes me want him more. his hair, his hands, his lips, the faint outline of his dick through his pants..
"hey, i'm back."
my lustful thoughts are unexpectedly interrupted by a familiar husky voice entering my room.
i look up to see matt.
"oh hey.", i reply eagerly, sitting up on my bed. i feel butterflies in my lower stomach as my thighs gravitate toward each other, yet again. i notice his breathing is heavier than usual, paired with light blush to his cheeks that wasn't there before.
"travis?", he questions.
"..what?", i reply, a puzzled look on my face.
"the music? it's travis scott."
i pause for a moment and listen; my speaker is still playing from the corner of my room.
the end of i know? by travis scott plays distinctly in the room.
"oh yeah, sorry. i forgot my music was still playing."
"no it's cool, this songs good."
i smile at his validation and feel my butterflies return.
"do you wanna sit?", i ask him, motioning to the empty spot next to me on my bed. he says nothing, just walks over and places himself just inches away from me.
while we talk about what our plans are for the rest of the day, i notice him uncomfortably resting a hand over his crotch.. and then both hands.. and then grabbing a pillow from the top of my bed and placing it directly over it. the distraction causes me to stumble my words,
"and so.. um.. i have a lecture on friday i think, but i'm not sure if i'll go yet. and.."
searchin by sonder starts playing over the speaker.
his eyes stare deeply into mine as i talk, but mine can't stay in one spot. they wander between his eyes, the pillow covering his obvious boner, his large hand gripping the sheets beside me-
you've been staring at it all along
you've been searching for me all along
you don't have to keep on waiting
girl i heard you call
listening to the lyrics, i begin losing track of my thoughts again.
"..and um..what was i talking about?", i chuckle, trying to remember. "oh! my lecture. so-"
my sentence is abruptly interrupted by a large hand grasping the back of my neck and pulling me in, accompanied by matt's lips on mine. his lips are soft and wet against my own and i feel goosebumps cover my body as his other hand nervously trails up my thigh. his fingers trace the hem of my tight shorts but then stop and i start to feel him pulling away, his lips swiftly detaching from mine.
he's quiet for a moment, staring into my eyes. my mouth opens and closes but no words come out.
"i'm sorry, i don't know why i did that.", he apologises, genuine guilt in his voice. "i should go-" he places his hands at his sides and goes to stand up, but i grab his arms and turn him to face me to prevent him from standing. feeling his muscles tense under my fingers, i let go of his arms. my right hand impulsively reaches for his hoodie, pulling him closer to me by the fabric covering his chest. our lips connect once again, this time only for a second before i inch away from him. once our lips are finally apart, i notice his rapid breathing and my eyes don't leave his.
"don't leave, matt."
#matt sturniolo#sturniolo fanfic#nick sturniolo#chris sturniolo#sturniolo triplets#matthew sturniolo#sturniolo x reader#sturniolo smut#christopher sturniolo#nicolas sturniolo
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it’s okay — gojo satoru
two weeks after suguru’s death, you come home to to your apartment and to your surprise, your boyfriend.
notes: hurt and comfort, post jjk0, established relationship, angst, ooc!gojo (you’ll see), sorry in advance, based off when gege said gojo had many breakdowns after jjk0
just like everyone, when you first met satoru back when you were first years, he was insufferable. however, you being you, you concluded that it would only be common sense that his title of being the strongest made a not-so-positive impact on his psyche. so you were forgiving.
you secretly made it one of four years’ mission to get the one and only gojo satoru to open up and drop the cocky act. but even when amanai riko, the girl he grew fond of in your third year, was assassinated, he barely budged. he said he barely knew her. not to say he wasn’t phased by it, but every time it would come up he would find a way to lighten the mood like he always has.
this was when you confirmed your belief about his damaged psyche. when they were in okinawa, satoru had texted you and shoko about riko and how you would love her and how riko would love shoko and utahime. he told you about the beach and the aquarium, and later geto told you about how satoru stayed up all the nights to keep guard. he cared about amanai, so his reaction couldn’t have been completely truthful.
you two still weren’t the closest then, but you just couldn’t let it go. awkwardly a couple of weeks after the girl’s death, you approach satoru after you finished a quick duo mission. “goj—satoru,” you start, mistaking his family name. he looks to you from the vending machine. “you know, it’s okay to be sad about it.” your voice gets quieter from the bench you sat at.
“huh? about what?” gojo sits next to you, handing you your drink of choice. “oh. yeah, I know.” he opens his coke. “but ‘ya know. it is what it is—that brat is probably in a better place anyway.” he shrugged and sat limp beside you with his arm behind your back, resting on the wood.
“satoru, it’s okay.” he took a big inhale and you fiddled with the drink in your hand.
“did suguru send you or something? or you being sweet for something else?” he looked to the side through his glasses. “it’s nothing to me now. plus, I learned a lot from it anyway.”
then, a year later, he barely talked about it when suguru defected. you figured you just weren’t close enough. when you started dating a year after that, the first thing you talked to him about was how it was okay to be sad even if it meant being weak in his eyes.
however, in the next 9 years, you’ve never caught him being more than just quiet or reserved when he was feeling down. even then, it wasn’t complete because he was always making annoying remarks. so you set that mission aside to be ready if the time ever comes, but decided not to hold your breath.
sometime in that time frame, you slowly notice satoru letting his guard down to you more and more during challenging times. upsetting or sad times were extremely rare, but that just made you treasure and observe them more carefully. you think it’s just satoru maturing as well. you used to joke that satoru being genuinely really sad was just as rare as his six eyes and infinity combo.
most of the times were because of his (and yours, kinda) adopted son/little brother/student/nephew/beneficiary/“brat with crazy potential”/“the future” named fushiguro megumi not playing along to his antics. the worst was when the pre-teen lashed out at satoru for “acting too much like my dad.”
that was the first time you saw satoru genuinely upset. he had asked (interrogated) megumi about his new middle school, to which the angsty kid, stressed with the new environment, who wanted to be left alone, snapped. satoru has opened up to you that night.
two weeks ago, satoru killed his best friend. you were guarding inside the school, especially because of the new student. when you had heard the news, all you thought about was satoru. it had been almost ten years that you talked to suguru, and honestly while you couldn’t blame him for his crimes, it was hard to look at him the same.
the first week after that, satoru was perfectly normal. the start of the week after was the same, so you figured he might’ve not been as affected as you thought. however, you couldn’t accept that he was just okay with permanently losing his self-proclaimed “other half.”
so when you come home after a full day’s worth of errands and hear deep shaky breaths from your bathroom, you think you’re mistaken. that part of you you set aside shivered at the thought that you were correct; that satoru bottled these big feelings to release them alone.
“satoru?” you called softly before slipping off your shoes. the door to the bathroom was open. as you started your way towards it the faucet started running, followed by water splashing against a face you now studied as you leaned against the doorframe.
“hey! you’re home early!” satoru smiled at you, face wet. he made no effort to stop the droplets from running down his chin, to his neck, and eventually to his sweater.
“so are you, toru. is everything okay?” you shifted your weight and he turned the water off. you swear you felt your brain flex at you struggling to decide how to approach this.
you swear he was just crying. will you make him uncomfortable if you pry? no, you don’t want to pry anyway. he was forced to kill his best friend just less than two weeks ago. it had only been you, shoko and satoru since suguru had first defected, but despite the time, satoru had always talked to you about suguru coming back somehow.
“yep. yaga let me come home early. I might take him up on that break offer, honestly.” satoru watched himself in the mirror, smile slowly fading. you grab a towel from a cabinet and have your boyfriend face you.
“that’s good. your students won’t mind. they understand—we all understand.” gently, you reach up to dry his face. to your surprise, you got stuck just in front of his nose. he still had his infinity on. you waited for him to realize, as he zoned out looking down at you.
satoru sighed softly and he closed his eyes. “shit, sorry. I’m distracted.” he rubbed his forehead and you wiped his face.
“it’s okay.” you tiptoed to kiss his temple and he bent down to reach around your waist. you hugged for a good ten seconds, feeling his chin on your shoulder.
“wanna take a nap?” you asked in an almost whisper. satoru nodded on your shoulder. “I’ll wash up first.” satoru hums and lets you go. really, you just wanted to hug him. you weren’t tired at all, but knowing satoru he would only rest like this if you were there to encourage it.
you dressed in a matching crewneck and shorts and walked to satoru, who was already on the verge of sleep in your bed. usually, when he felt your weight on the mattress he would lay his arm out for you to lay against his chest. instead, satoru let you lay down and just hugged you from your side.
he closed his eyes and sighed. he called your name and you moved your arm to let him lay against you. “I’m just distracted. I’ll save that vacation for another time.” he said, seemingly out of nowhere.
“baby it’s a break, not a vacation. I think you should take it. I can stay home with you if you want—”
“it won’t do anything anyway.” your boyfriend snuggled into you and rubs his face under your shoulder. you two laid in silence and after a couple of beats you speak up.
“I miss him too y’know.” you say, just above a whisper. you adjusted to put your arm under his head and turn yourself to face him. he nods his face into your neck.
satoru breathes in deeply and holds it in his chest. he releases it shakily. he doesn’t inhale until a couple beats and then he holds it and shakily releases it again. you rest your chin on the crown of his head, met with the comforting scent of his haircare. you think of what to say next, but gave up to hold satoru tighter.
“he’s gone now. because of me.” satoru whispers. your heart shatters and you freeze. suddenly all the memories of you, shoko, satoru and suguru from high school flows into your brain. you couldn’t bring yourself to speak. you wrap your hand around his head to bring him closer—an attempt to somehow share this burden.
you feel satoru swallow and he sighs. his breathing gets deeper with each breath, and you notice them getting more hasty. your heart sank to your stomach.
“satoru…” you start. he curls into you, knees shifting up against your thigh and finally, the tension breaks.
satoru sobs. he hugs you tighter and you feel tears welling up in your own eyes.
your mind went blank. you knew there was nothing you could say to comfort your boyfriend. this was the first time you’ve seen him cry in thirteen years. you felt as if your heart was squeezed. satoru was sobbing against your neck and you wanted nothing but to at least take some of his pain.
you listened to satoru sob and you closed your eyes. you held him, hoping the pressure comforts him. it was difficult as he’s almost twice your size, but nothing else felt right.
you knew satoru wasn’t only referring to killing suguru two weeks ago. he had told you how he was too weak to plead his best friend ten years ago to stay—that the two of them could make this all right. that the two of them could’ve corrected the system. he believed he could’ve prevented everything if only he was strong enough to do something so mundane compared to his battles. why couldn’t he have just… spoke?
satoru’s sobs leveled off. he went back to hasty breathing. you felt his tears on your pillow now and shoulder, but you couldn’t care less. all you wanted was for satoru to stop carrying his pain alone.
you kiss the top of his head and your own tears start to flow. “it’s okay, satoru.”
after a moment he pulls away from you and sits up, looking down at his lap. you stared at his slumped shoulders and he tried to steady his breathing. you sat up too and scooted up to turn your body to face him.
you held your hand to his cheek. he looked at you and looked back down. “it’s okay.”
he let out a shaky breath and you wiped his tears. his face was warm to the touch. he started a word, but he sighed and shook his head. you leaned in and hugged him. it was more for you than for him.
to say this broke your heart was too much of an understatement. you wondered how many times he’d cried alone. just because he was pinned to be “the strongest.” the title leaked into his life outside of his power. for a second you hated the world. you hated everyone at the school; yaga, shoko, nanami… your head felt hot with rage at how they could let that happen— how they could let satoru bear so much alone.
satoru looks down when you pull away, hiding his face. your hands rest on his shoulders and you kiss the top of his head again. “it’s okay.”
he coughs twice. you get up to get him a glass of water and he finishes it in three gulps.
“do you want to talk about it?”
satoru swallows and sighs outward. “I had to review the report. And testify as a witness. Yaga came and they let me off easy.” you sit down at the edge of the bed to listen.
“I just—“ he stutters. “that’s it.” you’re glad he’s calmed down. he finally looks up at you, still struggling to hold eye contact. it must feel weird for him to cry in front of you. his eyes were wet and red, along with his nose. his brows furrowed and he looks down again.
“I’m really sorry you had to relive that. those higher ups don’t understand your relationship. but it’s okay to think about it once in a while—and mourn.” you tell him.
“yeah…I know, it’s just hard.” he sniffled.
“I know.” you sigh. you pat his head and he rests it on your shoulder. you hug him again. the two of you make your way back to your previous position laying down, and you flipped your pillow. satoru scoffs amusingly, after which you expected a clever remark to come but it doesn’t.
“could you…” he hesitates.
“yeah?”
“could you… stay tomorrow?” satoru huffs into your shoulder.
“of course.”
reblog to give gojo a hug :(
m.list
#𝘴𝘢𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘺𝘶𝘶’𝘴#gojo satoru#angst#hurt/comfort#fluff#geto suguru#jjk x reader#im brocken#my soul actually hurts#fanfic#jujutsu kaisen#jjk drabbles#not proofread (well)
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need your loving tonight
☆AGATHA'S MASTERLIST☆
☆ EDDIE MUNSON'S MASTERLIST ☆
summary : Eddie is trying to make amends with you after he acted like an idiot to you but no matter how hard he tries, you wouldn't forgive him for his mistakes
word count : I hope this won't be too long 😭
warnings : 18+ MDNI Eddie Munson x FEM!reader, language, no use of y/n, Eddie and reader are both 20, EVENTUAL SMUT‼️, protected sex (as they should) Jason Carver I know I'm sorry 😖 Eddie being dumb at some points, reader might be too harsh with Eddie here, happy ending? will see 🙃
what to expect : lots of ANGST‼️ in the beginning but fluff in the end, friends to lovers
note to reader : VECNA & UPSIDE DOWN DON'T EXIST HERE! it would be nice to read that Eddie is begging for your forgiveness hehe
author note : I love Queen and this is my ultimate favorite song of all time never get tired of listening to it- if you haven't- MY GOD! SHAME ON YOU! 😤
He struggles not to get mad at you
He struggles not to get frustrated at you
He struggles not to hate on you
What happened?
Did he have done something wrong?
Hell
Hell yes, he did something wrong with you
"I'm so fucking dumb" he mumbles to himself
"What did you say?" Jeff says as he flips the next page of his comic book
The voice of his friend made his snap out of his thoughts while he's looking at you at the other side of the cafeteria
"uh- nothing" he clears his throat, straightens himself up and he averts his eyes away from you
Jeff looks up to his friend with critical eyes as he observes him, slowly putting his comic book down on the table, he turns around and he founds you there
"Ah" he chuckles shaking his head, he finally understands the situation
Eddie catches this and he questions him "Excuse me?"
"Make it up to her, man" Gareth says as he takes a sip from his canned Coke
He swings his head over to his other friend, confusion expression sitting on his face clearly
"Woo her" Dustin added while he's writing on his science notebook
Eddie quickly shuts his eyes as he responds "Was I too obvious for thinking about her too much?"
"Stop moping around and talk to her!" Lucas leans in, his tone is serious making Eddie nodding taking his words carefully
"The more you don't try to fix, the more she'll gets angry at you, been there done that" Mike raising his hands up as he tries to forget the idiot things that he did to Jane
"What the hell- did you to her this time, Munson?"
All of them turn their heads at the other voice, it's standing right there next to Eddie looking at him down with a stern look on his face
The look is not threatening but Eddie can see it that he genuinely cares
Eddie just lifts his head up to see the man standing beside him and he can see the guilty and sadness on his eyes
He sighs "I don't know anymore, dude...." He trails off
"He probably done something asshole to her girl" Jeff fills him up
Eddie looks at him with wide eyes and then turns to a pointed look
"I-I'm sorry, man, it's the truth!" Jeff surrenders
He shook his head as he leans his back against his seat
Eddie's eyes always goes back at you for everytime he tries to rethink and remember those past few weeks before you chose to ignore him
It's been 3 weeks
It almost looks like he doesn't even exist to you
He should've known, a girl like you who got a heart of gold, nicest soul
Could turn into something else that he never expected to happen
You became mean, hateful, rude, impolite to him
The only time he sees you smiling and laughing so sweetly is when you're not close to him
But whenever your eyes falls to him, it changes into anger, it flashes to him so sharply that he can feel your gaze stabbing into him
He knows he deserves it for treating you this way
And my god, both of you have been bestfriends for years and he never thought this day would come
The day he will never ever forget is that you despise him, every bit of him irritates into your core
He can't blame you, you've been together since elementary, he knows how much you give your whole heart to someone you love
And then he just chose to fucking mess things up
"Answer me, Munson"
he puts his food tray on the table, it made Eddie flinch a little, he goes straight back into reality again
"What's going on between you and her?"
Eddie breathes from his nose deeply, he looks down shamefully
"You can still bring her back, you know, it's not too late"
"How can I ever talk to her if she doesn't give me a chance?!" Eddie finally speaks throwing his hands up while stealing a glance at you
You're staring at him coldly
Eddie can't even look at you like that for long giving him that icy glare
The man beside Eddie gave a gesture to Jeff and Gareth to scoot over on the side so he will have a seat next to Eddie
Eddie rubs his face, he's stressing out, his friend can see that
"It's not the right time to give me advices, Harrington"
"Look, dude, I just wanted to help you, if you lose her you're going to regret it, believe me"
Eddie stare at him for a second, he nods along for him to continue
"What did you do that might upset her?" Steve tries to look at his friends eyes
The whole crew looks at him directly, awaiting for his answer
Eddie swallows he knows he's gonna get scolded from his friends and if Wayne knew about this
He's a fucking dead man
"b-before the 3 weeks happened, we h-hang a lot like the usual a-and then I-I think she gives so many hints that s-she liked me and I thought she's j-just expressing her l-love to me as a f-friend and then few days later it feels like she's n-not the same anymore until s-she finally let it all out that she h-has feelings for me"
"and then what happened?" Mike asks
"She told me she w-was fine, she'll be in t-touch with me until I received a letter from her, I'm still confused and I don't know what she meant about it, I reread it like a million times and I think-"
"you think what?" Lucas cuts him off
"She d-doesn't want to be with me a-anymore" Eddie said the last line like he was holding his breath, he breathes out shakily
"Well, that sucked" Gareth saids while Jeff nudges him in the stomach as he gestures to be sympathetic for his friend for a moment
Steve facepalmed for a second as he tries to think of something
"What did you do after she..." Dustin glances at you before he continues "confessed to you?"
"Here's the thing, Henderson" your voice goes behind his back making Eddie tense up at the fury anger coming out from your voice
All of the boys stare at you like they've been caught
"He fucking acted like our friendship together didn't exist and let me guess he told you I was the one who got cold right?"
All of them nod and then they scrunch their faces up making it harder for Eddie
You laugh in disbelief "What y'all boys didn't know right after I confessed at him, he just acted like it was nothing, he just go on day by day like nothing happened, just like that" you shrugged
You lean down close to him, his breath hitches being you this close to him while you're in rage
"He expects me to be like?!? Do the same shit that he did?!? No fucking way" you whisper on his ear and he squeezes his eyes shut
All of the boys are intimidated seeing you like this
They're used to see you being so lovely and fun like Eddie
But now, they get it, why Eddie can't just talk you out of it
"That's why I wrote him a farewell letter to end my misery and his misery because I'm such a good person" you say the last word clutching to your heart sarcastically and smiling
Your forced smile drops, you say one more thing before you leave "Even though he doesn't deserve it" you scoffed at him while you look at him up and down
He pushed his seat back running after you
You ignore him calling out for you until he finally reaches your hand you turn around
You slapped him across his face making the other students gasped and you don't even care if the other students having prying eyes on you and him
"Oh shit!" Dustin exclaimed
The whole gang stand up from their seats, jaws are dropped and shocked as they watch the scene unfolds
There's a bit of regret of what you just did to him but you can't help it, you're just so mad at him for invalidating your feelings and you hate that you got rejected at your most beloved and important person in your whole life
You wished that you didn't confessed at him, if only you knew that this is going to happen
But it already did so.... you'll just hop in onto the fire and burn and live through the chaos of your emotions
"Don't you try to touch me again, we're through" your eyes became glossy but Eddie knew that's how you get angry
You rip his hands off from you as he watches you disappear in the cafeteria
Angry tears coming out from you eyes and he hates that he's the cause of it
He only sees that if you're having problems at your life and now he's the part of it
He hates himself for it, for letting this happen
If only he wasn't so dumb about it, this wouldn't happen
He is making this hard for you, he doesn't even know where to start
He's tearing up, half of his face burning up from the slap that you gave him, it turns to a bright red color from his cheek
All of his friends goes after him, giving him a pat behind his back
Jeff and Gareth both saying in unison "Are you okay?" he just nods weakly and he sniffles
"Now all of you believe me?" He told them referring to the question earlier "just talk to her"
"I believe you, man" Steve sighs and he gives a small smile to his friend
It's been a month ever since you slapped him
Eddie's eyes still longing on for you everytime you brush past by him
He's trying to look into your eyes and tell you that he's sorry
"I think you're too hard on him" Robin says as she offers you a cherry lollipop, you grab it and unwrapped it and you stick it out to your mouth
You watch Eddie with his friends cheering for another successful D&D meeting
Your heart aches at the sight of it, you should've been there if it wasn't for the unfortunate events that happened
Even his friends are in celebration, you can see his eyes and his smile not reaching to his ears, he is not happy because you're not there
"I think you might be right" you remove the lollipop from your mouth
Robin's voice is muffled from the lollipop as she darts her eyes to you and to him "What- wait- how's so?"
"He isn't like the kind of trying to get my attention, he stopped doing that"
Robin smirks "You miss him, don't you?"
You huffed and chuckled "There's no shame in that, and you know it, Robs, yeah I do miss him" you admit unashamedly as you popped the lollipop back in your mouth
She gives you a empathetic smile
"Why don't you try to talk to him? Maybe he is truly sorry for what he has done"
You stare at her, This is the only time you let your walls down, Robin can see that you're also longing for him
You're just wearing this facade of yours so don't that he can't see how you truly hurt
At least that's what you think
Eddie knows it and you know that he can see right through you
You gave your friend a warm smile "I'll think about it"
"I just wanted for the both of you to be happy, I don't want you guys end up giving each other's cold and hatred remarks when they can be together again" she says as she puts her hands on her pockets
You nod at her, you're now thinking deeply about it
Eddie decided to ignore you or maybe if possible, forget about you
He gets even more scared of the letter you gave him that haunts him til' his day
He'll have to learn to forgive and forget
Which is impossible
He goes out looking strong but whenever he saw you, all of his courage to not acknowledging your existence just quickly fades away
He can't sleep either, he just keeps rolling around his bed all night, he can't stop thinking about you, he doesn't even know how he can get rest enough for the next day
His body aches and he stopped trying to get talk to you, he doesn't want to argue with you anymore, he's exhausted, he knows how will end up
Another slap from his face
He groans and goes back to his previous bed position as he throws a pillow on top of his head
He knows what you need, you need space, but he's trying his best to stay away from you he can't remove himself out of you that easy
He got even more mad when he saw you talking to another guy at school
Eddie can't deny his looks, the guy is good looking, maybe he's one of the popular guys at school judging by the way he dresses
His eyes turn to jealousy, his jaw clenches when you giggled about the guy was saying to you
He furrow his brows, he's the only one who can make you laugh like that, his heart drops of what the future might be
He would rather die seeing you holding hands with another man when he must've been the one with you on his side
He'll eat his heart out on how much he loves you
Eddie walked inside of the men's restroom
"It's a good thing you let her go, man"
Eddie raises his head looking for the familiar voice in the room, he rolled his eyes when he finally see him
It's Jason fucking Carver
Until he freezes, he can't recognize him because of the dim lights but his posture and his mannerisms
It's him, he's the guy that he saw with you
He is now simmering with anger, he knows guys like Jason just get girls and leaving them after they got what they wanted like they're pieces of trash
"Just get the hell away from me, dude" he spits out
He laughs darkly "I'm giving you a piece of advice, freak"
He gives him a daggering stare at him, a warning
"Girls like her, are too much of a work, they think a lot, they're unstable and hell, too fucking sensitive"
He shakes his head at his words and scoffs, he goes by the sink and wash his hands
Jason follows suit and he leans his back as he continues to talk
"You should get yourself a girl who doesn't have anything like her, just by one look she knows what you needed"
The faucet keeps running, he pauses, he knows exactly what he mean by that and that alone just pisses him off
Jason flinches at Eddie's action by holding him up by his collar pining him behind the wall
"I don't want any girl, Jason, I only want her, I am not like you breaking every girl's heart in Hawkins High, you're full of shit!" He punches him causing him to open the men's door
Throwing Jason in the process on the floor, making every student halt their tracks as they watch the scene, Jason can't even give a fist to Eddie
Eddie grabbed Jason again by his collar as he give him 2 blowing hard punches on his face, making him bloody enough to not speak to him ever again
"Next time, Carver, I hope this will mark that you won't fucking talk to my girl that way" he pushes him down, Jason weakly nods and he grunts while he slowly crawls away from him
It's like the universe is helping you to get back together, he turned around to see you standing there
It's the only time he is seeing you not giving him any cold shoulder instead he sees shock, pity, and hopeful?
He blinks and stares at you for a bit, he turned his heels and walked away
You tried to follow him, you sigh of what you just witnessed
"Another suspension again, son?" Wayne asks as he pours himself a cup of coffee as he glances at his nephew, washing the remnants of blood from his fists, it appears to be bruised from the punch
"Yeah, I blew Carver's face off" he plainly said
Wayne almost choked from his coffee, he clears his throat
"Pardon?"
He turn around to face him "I punched him after he talked shit to my girl"
He says it all at once, he realized of what he has done, he slowly looks up from his uncle who is now staring at him with a smug on his face
"Your girl huh?" He places his newspaper down on the coffee table
He sighs in exasperation "Who am I kidding? Why am I jealous, she's not even mine"
Wayne's smug smile falls as he stands up goes over to his nephew, joining him on the couch
"Tell me, what happened, son?"
Wayne already knew to what he has done with you, of course he's upset about it, Wayne likes you so much that he treats you normally like you're a part of his family
You can also feel it whenever you spend your time at their trailer, Even Wayne doesn't say it he's not much of a big talker but it just feels natural, it's home and that added more to your pain
"She saw everything that I made a scene, I turned around and saw her there standing, I thought I'm going to receive the same glares but-" he pauses as he shifts from his seat
He looked at the framed photograph of you and him on the top shelf, both arms hanging around on each other's shoulders, his heart beats fast when he looked at your beautiful smile, he misses seeing that smile of yours
"But?" Wayne says as he puts his hand over his knee
"She doesn't do it anymore, what does it mean? Does that mean she's not a-angry at me anymore?"
Wayne is proud of himself, he taught him well, a true gentleman like he is
Except for the idiot part, that's on him
"I think she's giving you a second chance"
Eddie looked at him, he grows nervous about it
"And by that chance, boy, don't ever waste it" he points at him giving him a pointed look
Eddie nods at his uncle as he throws his head on the sofa
This is it, you're giving him a chance, he is still certain that he wants you, he will do anything to make things go back to normal
The question is.... Do you still want him? or you just wanted reconciliation from him?
Tuesday, The Hideout, Eddie is there
Forest Park Hills, you arrived at 7pm
There's so many memories that you and Eddie created in his home, just by looking at it, makes you wanna sob about it
You knocked on the door and saw Wayne standing in there
His eyes shines in delight, the moment he sees you, he has the same grin that you always loved with Eddie
He hugs you that you gladly accept
"Oh! It's you! how wonderful to see you again"
"I'm very happy to see you too, Wayne"
He pulls back and invites you inside "Come on in"
"Where's-"
"He'll be back-"
"After 11pm, yeah I know" you chuckled slightly
He goes straight into the kitchen and offers you a cup of coffee that you always liked and thank goodness he has a box of butter croissant and that he bought after his salary, a treat for him and his nephew
"Thank you" you say softly
"Why'd you come here? Not that I don't mind you coming in here everytime you want"
You're chewing on the flaky pastry "I-I felt bad for him for what I did to him"
He nods as he listens to you carefully
"He deserves to know the all of the answers that he's been dying to know"
You reach out for your mug shakily, you drink it
You can't hold back the tears anymore, you put down your mug before you can break it
"I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-"
"Don't apologize, it's okay" Wayne didn't waste time to hold your hand
You calm down for a bit as you exhale slowly
"I think he learned his lesson"
"W-What do you mean?"
"One time, he told me, he had an idea, he will be on his knees, begging for you, for mercy and ask for forgiveness"
You bursted out laughing as he laughs as well with you
"I embarrassed him, enough, Wayne, I slapped him in the cafeteria, last month"
"You- did what?" His hold on you drops as he places over his hips
You winced at of what you just did "Oh shoot, he's been through, already, Wayne, don't tell me you're going to reprimand him about it, I thought you knew"
He chuckles "He will be, if he loses this last chance"
You smile at him shyly, Wayne knew that you and Eddie had a thing for each other, both of you are just afraid, until one of you finally speaks up and turns into heartache
"I always knew, even my boy doesn't go fully into details but I know what's going on"
"Thanks, Wayne"
He never fails to make you laugh, you always feel safe whenever you're with the Munson's, he radiates the same energy like his uncle
"No, Thank you for making my dear boy happy, I don't trust that school aside from you and his friends, he got a lot of hard times on his life and I thought I would never see him this way, the moment you existed, I just know he'll be okay"
You gave him a heartwarming smile, you sniffled
For what Wayne just said, you know everything will work out just fine
While putting away the music equipments
Jeff looking at his friend, he doesn't want to meddle with his plans but he cares for his friend he just wanted to know
"Do you think you can still have her?" He asks
Eddie has this weird gut that's been going on all night, he doesn't know if it's bad or not
"I think so"
"Yeah?"
"Yeah, man" he smiles genuinely and just like that his friend knew he'll be alright
"Good for you, man, I'm happy for you" he holds him by the shoulders
"Just don't do anything stupid to her this time" Gareth walks past by them while holding a big speaker
Jeff calls him out for being too hard on the words that he's giving to Eddie, he just laughs as he says "Got that!" he loves that for Gareth for being real and just speaking the truth
He is thankful for having friends like them
Eddie came home, he is in a state of shock to see you in there, laying on the couch, asleep, with his blanket
"I'm off to work, son" Wayne says as he swings his bag over to his shoulder
Before he exits, he says "You want her?"
"Yes"
"You want her back in your life?"
"Yes!"
"Then fight for her, boy" he says, he gives him an encouraging smile, he leaves while closing the door on his way
Eddie puts his beloved guitar down and places it on the side of the room to where it's safe
He crouch down to look at your face, even you're sleeping, you're so mesmerizing to look at, he missed looking at your pretty face
He watches as your chest rise and up and down, his eyes widens when he recognized the shirt that you're wearing
It's a gift that he gave to you last Christmas, his favorite Metallica bandshirt, you're wearing black leggings and a black cardigan
He can't help himself that he reaches out to touch your face and he caresses it
You stir up and your eyes flutter open and it lands on your sweet lover
"Hey"
"Hi" you rise up and sit down as you scoot over to offer him a seat
He goes under the blankets as well
You yawn and Eddie thinks it's the most cutest thing he ever seen
You rub your eyes as you looked around "Wayne?"
"Uh- he left just recently"
"Oh"
You both sat together in comfortable silence
"I'm sorry" you both turned your heads around at the same time, both saying the same thing in unison
Causing the both of you to laugh, he wheezes
After trying to calm down from your laughter
"I miss you, Eddie"
"I missed you too, sweetheart, so much"
You don't want to spoil the moment but you had to "I don't like that you keep leading me on, building up my feelings and just leave me there hanging, after I confessed my true feelings with you and you acted like it was a joke, it hurt me a lot"
"I know and I am so sorry like truly, I am, if only I go back I would've done better but I didn't"
He moves even closer to you and he can't believe that you let him hold your hand
"I regret it everyday, I hate that I was the cause of your pain, I can't sleep at night thinking about you"
You looked into his eyes, holy shit, he is telling you the truth
"I love you" There's no ounce of dishonest, zero hesitation on his voice
You gasp "That's all I ever wanted to hear"
He closed the gap between the two of you, he slammed his lips onto yours
You kissed him back, both heavily breathing, he smiles into the kiss as he swipes his tongue onto you, you sigh in content as you throw your arms around him, holding the back of his head as he deepens the kiss, you moaned
Until your back is laying flat down on the couch as you both continue to make out
It's the kiss that you always wanted and it's everything
He pulled back "Am I forgiven?" He knits his eyebrows together
"You sure are" you smiled back at him as you pull him by the collar, you kiss him passionately
Eddie might cry, the gut that he was feeling earlier was a good sign
You sat on his lap, he puts his arms around your waist, breathing your scent like it adds to his lifespan, you frown at the bruise from his knuckles
He seethed when you rub your thumb over it "I'm sorry" you whispered
"You really meant it, don't you?"
"Was me drawing blood, isn't enough for you?"
You snorted, you move your body to face him, you're now straddling him
"There's one more thing, though"
"Yes, anything for you, darling" he says as he drew circles on your forearm
"You need to prove it to me" you start grinding on him slowly, he hums, as he looks at you from up and down, he took the hint clearly
You yelped when he carries you putting you down on his bed
"Please, go easy on me, I'm fragile" you say coyly
He chortled "Look, honey, I don't want to rush-"
"Are you gonna do it or spend your rest of your life that I am not yours?" You say bitterly rolling your eyes in the process
"Fuck- ah shit! Of course, I don't want that!"
"Then fucking just do it!"
He pulls you down causing you to squeal from his action making him laugh devilishly
It makes your thighs clench, he saw it and he looks up to you "Didn't know I had a effect on you like that"
You're about to slap him again until he grabs it and puts it down
"I don't think so sweetheart, not this time"
It's the first time you got alarmed from his action, it turns you on
He leans down to whisper behind your ear "I'm the boss here"
He removes your leggings with your underwear at the same time, he removes his shirt and his pants
His eyes grow lustfully as he sees your cunt, so wet for him and only just for him
He puts his hands over your knees, to open wide for him, you shiver under his touch
You reach down at the hem of your shirt, he stops you
"Let me do it, sweet thing" he winks at you
His hand goes behind your back to unclip your bra and remove it
"Oh my gosh" he places his hand over his mouth as he looks at you, admiring your naked body
You became bashful on his gaze, you tried to cover yourself
"I'm so lucky, goddamn!" He exaggerates the last line making you giggle
As he reaches on the drawer, he pulls his boxers down, you saw the length, it's big
Your mouth became dry
"Are you still up for this, sweetheart?"
You nod at him
"I only accept verbal answers, baby"
"Yes, Eddie, I'm ready"
"I'm gonna to take care of you, just tell me if it hurts, I'll stop"
"Okay"
He distracts you from kissing you, your forehead crumples up
"Too much?"
"I can take it, hold on"
"Just relax, angel"
The moment he fills you up, you're so fuck drunk in the feeling, you can't even register that he's inside of you
He holds your hip and raises one leg as he thrusts into you slowly
You whimpered and he is so fuck drunk like as you do, your pussy squelches in the most sinful things sound ever
"Stop clenching, I won't last long" he grunts
Your eyes are heavy-lidded, you run down your hands on his chest as you copy his thrusts making him groan
"Faster, Eddie, please move"
"I got you"
He places both of your legs around his waist, he holds both of your hands as he fucks you speedily
You wrap your legs around him tightly bringing him deeper, making you moan even harder
He flushes down on you, he nuzzles over your shoulder, you wrap your arms around him, you both moan at the sweet sensation
"Wait- Eddie- d-don't stop!" Your moans turn into high pitched screams
You used your last energy to bring him around so you're place on top of him, he gasps as his face contorts into pleasure
"I-I love you so much, E-Eddie" you moan as you grind him
Eddie watches as your pussy devours his cock gliding down smoothly like it was made just for him making him buckle his hips
You arch your back and your head falls down on the side, as you continue to ride him, cheeks are flushed, your eyes are closed can't hold them longer enough, you're so lost in the feeling
Eddie sits up as he holds you close, both burning bodies with so much ecstacy feeling both of your minds, both panting, a bit sweaty for getting all worked up
You kept saying his name "Oh- Eddie- Eddie- Eddie- ah"
"I- l-love you more, sweetheart, y-you're the best thing that is ever happened t-to me, holy shit, baby" he cusses on how good you feel
Making you clench and he groans, you smile to him lazily
He pulled you even more close causing your moans into scream, you grind him so fast, he holds your hips placing your legs around him, he squeezes your breasts, he plays with your clit, making you moan even louder
You start bouncing on top of him as you remove the pieces of his hair on his face
"My p-pretty boy" you say, biting down the another wave arousal coming in
"M-my pretty g-girl" he tucked a piece of hair behind your ear, he says as he holds you tight your legs are trembling, you shout his name as you both came undone
You kissed his cheek as you bring your arms around him, he is still holding you, he kisses your shoulder
"That was awesome"
There he is, the boy that you always loved, he is always unserious
You laughed, your laughing body shakes as you hide your face on his neck, you pulled back
Admiring his tattoos, he smiles down at you
Once you calmed down, he peels himself out of you, you winced at it a little, everytime he tries to pulls out slowly and carefully he says sorry, he takes care of you
He cleaned you up and helped you get dressed
He opens his cabinet, he grab a clean boxers and a pair of DIO bandshirt
He settle for his blue striped pajama pants, he stays shirtless
He says he'll be at the kitchen getting a glass of water, he offers you and you said yes
He has that silly smile again, you missed seeing that
None of that matters anymore, the important is that at the end, you're still together
You noticed a familiar polaroid picture on his bedside table, you reach for it and it reveals
It's you and him together celebrating your 20th birthday, you recognized his handwrite on the bottom, it says
"My best girl, ♡"
Your eyes are now brimmed with threatening tears to spill for any moment
"Here you go-" he stops as he sees what you're holding
"You kept it?" Your tears fall into tears of joy
He shows you a warm smile, he hand out the glass of water and you drank it, he kisses your forehead as he places the glass on the beside table
"I always kept everything that remind me of you"
Your heart flutters to what he just said, you hug him tighter making him shocked but he recovers as he realizes your muffled cries on his chest, he felt the tears that goes down
He pulled back to look at you "W-What's wrong?"
"I don't wanna lose you, Eddie, I want you forever in my life, I'm so sorry for acting like that"
"Hey, you have the every right to act that way, you have to right to be angry with me because what I did is absolutely unforgivable"
You hiccuped and he shushes you as he pulls your closer
"You didn't lose me, sweetheart"
You raise your head up to look at him, your ears are open for what he has to answer
"You save me again, I didn't stop loving you and I don't think that I never will"
His swipes the tears using his thumb, you hold him from his wrists as you say "I also don't think I could never love on another person again unless it's you"
It's his turn to cry in front of you "That is the most extraordinary thing that I ever heard"
You smiled at him as you kiss him
Eddie woke up with you laying on his shoulder, on his bed and the brightness outside, making him eyes shut again
Your arms are laying on top of his stomach afraid that he might disappear from you
The scent of the air is your sweet bergamot lavender perfume, your shampoo now lingers on his bedroom sheets, he smiles down at you kissing you on the top of your head
Eddie overheard the front door opens, he heard him removing heavy boots as he anticipates for his uncle to peek on the slightly opened door
Wayne looks over he sees his nephew already staring at him as his eyes falls on you asleep, he slowly opens the door wide making the door creak
Wayne manages to give his nephew a thumbs up causing Eddie to bite back a giggle, he freezes when you start waking up
"Goodmorning, sunshine"
"Morning, Eddie my love"
"I would never get tired hearing you say things like that"
He leans in to give you a kiss but you pulled back, he got confused "What?"
"I just got woke up and I have bad morning breath" your voice is hoarse from the sleep
He tuts "I don't care" he ignores your protest as he kisses you and you melt with it
"Hey kids, do you want me to join for breakfast? My treat?"
Wayne calls out to the both of you and you jumped at his voice, making Eddie laugh while holding on his chest
"Sure, Wayne, we'll be right there!"
You didn't remove the clothes that you wore last night, instead you eye his red checkered flannel that you always loved, you wear it fond smile coming from your lips
He wore his muscle tee black shirt and wore his another pair of sweatpants
"What do you say, sweetheart? Pancakes or Waffles?"
You laugh at the memory, you feel all bubbly inside, you washed your face and dried it with a clean towel
You brush your hair as you put on a cherry lipbalm
You walked towards him "You always end up getting the same thing" as you watch him putting a silver chain on his neck as he sprays his musk cologne on him, the scent that you always liked
"You always loved Pancakes" you placed your arms above his shoulder
"You always loved Waffles" he tilt his head onto the side as he leans down to kiss you again
"I'd say it's a date" he flashes you a cheeky smile
"It's perfect" he opens the door for you as he hugs you from behind
You, Eddie and Wayne ate happily at Benny's
Eddie always gives you a generous piece of his favorite waffle even you don't ask him to do it
The morning feels vibey and a new beginning, you take in the fresh of nice air
You rest your head on his shoulder as he does the same
You're both finally at peace and happiness once again and this time, you both know, nothing will ever comes between the two of you
🎶Ooh, I need your loving, oooh I need your loving, Ooh I need your loving tonight🎶
here's a lil' sequel of this cuties together again <3 "Good Old Fashioned Lover Boy"
#Spotify#eddie munson angst#eddie munson smut#eddie munson fic#stranger things 4#eddie munson x fem!reader#eddie munson x female reader#eddie munson fluff#queen#queen band#queen fan#agirlwholovesrockstarsfics
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Then and Now
Summary: The boys want a second pass at that fucking money. They need your help. The only problem is that you and Santiago aren't talking, not anymore, not since everything went so sideways.
Pairing: Santiago "Pope" Garcia x Reader
Word Count: ~15.5k
Warnings: angst, pining, canon level violence, lots and lots of cursing, PTSD and assorted metal health issues, smut (p in v), best friend Benny Miller (yeah it needs a warning), reader has a nickname (Blue) in the same way the others do (Pope, Fish, etc.) sparingly used
A/N: Thank you for reading! Please forgive anything that is militarily inaccurate/inaccurate to the ravine location, I changed some things to fit the story better. I am so very aware I'm basically writing in what is probably a dead fandom for a meh movie. That doesn't matter to me, what matters is all that Oscar Isaac ass and the fact that this is genuinely my favorite movie at the moment. That, and when @velvetofyourheart asks for something, I can't really say no.
Tanya, thank you so much for your wonderful idea and always encouraging my aquarius god-complex. This is your fic, you own it. This is your Santi, never let anyone tell you any differently. I love you. Happy very belated birthday.
Now
Fog is still rolling over your front yard when Benny Miller’s familiar jeep swings into your driveway, gravel crunching beneath the tires.
You sit down your cup of coffee, the many rings lining your fingers clinking against the ceramic, and huff out a breath at his audacity, showing up at your place so early in the day.
The morning is muggy but cool, condensation beading along the porch railing where your feet are propped up, booted feet crossed at the ankle.
The jeep’s headlights go out and the driver’s side door pops open. Benny smiles at you when he climbs out, giving you a big, exaggerated wave before he lopes over, all sweetheart golden retriever energy.
Benny is big feelings and big gestures in a body that would never be enough to trap it all inside, that could never cage all that wild energy.
“Well, fuck,” you say when he climbs the porch stairs. “Look what the cat dragged in.”
You haven’t seen him in a couple weeks.
Benny, who you used to see daily.
But not anymore, not since he came home beat to hell and looking like a lost dog. Not since he told you everything that happened in Colombia.
Not since he told you how Tom died, how everything they did was so fucked.
Wouldn’ta happened if you were there. You keep our heads on straight. He had told you that day, crying like you were kids again on your back deck in the setting sun.
Benny laughs and leans against the banister, a brown folder held in one hand. You eye the folder as you flick open the pack of cigarettes in your lap, knocking out a smoke and lighter. “Whatever it is,” you nod at his hand, “The answer is no.”
“You don’t even know what it is,” Ben says innocently. “And you know they say those things will kill you.”
“Fuck you, Miller, this is my one indulgence,” you say amicably as you light up, blowing smoke away from him.
Coffee and a cigarette on your front porch each morning before work, before driving half an hour into town to serve bitchy local teens still half coked out of their minds from the night before and surly truck drivers just passing through town - that was your indulgence, that was all you could allow yourself, all you could afford most days.
Benny reaches up to pull off his ball cap, runs a hand through his hair and replaces the hat backwards, before he sighs. “We’re going back for that money. We need you there. Can’t do it without you, obviously. First time you aren’t with us and everything goes to hell.”
You scoff, taking a long drag on your cigarette, holding in the nicotine for a long moment before you exhale through your nose, “You’ve gotta be kidding, Benny.”
“Not a chance,” Benny says, weirdly serious, “Not with this. Someone else is gonna find it and then what?”
“Suppose it goes to the next drug lord in line,” you raise a brow at him. “Y’all are really going back for that money? That got Tom killed? Didn’t you fuck it up enough already? Leave it lie, it's cursed.”
Benny winces and straightens, moving to drop heavily onto the wooden porch swing hanging from the ceiling. It creaks beneath him as he leans back and sighs, sounding more exhausted than you’ve ever known him to be.
“Redfly wouldn’t want that money falling into the wrong hands.”
“Yeah he’d want it in his hands,” you snap, feeling only slightly guilty about talking ill of the dead. “Or did you forget what happened down there?”
Benny doesn’t say anything for a moment, cornflower blue eyes staring up at the ceiling. “Yeah, well, he won’t be there this time.”
“So why go back? Pope’s greed eating at him again? You know you guys don’t have to do everything he says.” When Benny doesn’t say anything, you glance over at him, watch the way he sighs lightly and the circles beneath his eyes seem to deepen in real time. “Hey, I’m sorry, Ben. That was cruel of me.”
You stub out your near finished cigarette and grab your cup of coffee, crossing the porch to slide down next to him and knock your cup into his leg. “You look like you could use this.”
He takes the mug from you, drawing a long swig of coffee before he hands it back to you.
He eyes your hands, taps one finger against yours. “You still wear Santi’s ring.”
Santi’s ring.
It wasn’t an engagement ring, no, you’d have to be in a relationship for that to have happened. He’d picked it up at a flea market somewhere, polished it up himself and presented it to you like it meant nothing.
I know how much you like rings, he had said simply, nodding at the many rings that lined your fingers.
You never take it off.
You sigh and lean back, your shoulder brushing Ben’s as you both stare up at the cobwebbed ceiling. “Just because he hates me, doesn’t mean I feel the same way about him.”
He doesn’t comment on that and the silence stretches between you for a long time.
Ben eventually says your name and you roll your head toward him to meet his eyes. You can tell he’s thinking exactly the same thing you are - that you both look exhausted. You’ve known Benny since forever and reading him is like looking at a jumbotron at a Marlins game - so fucking obvious it was painful sometimes.
“You really wanna keep doing this forever? Stay in this shithole town and do nothing? Serve the fuck ups at that diner?” Benny pumps you, poking your sore spots. He knows you hate being trapped, hates the stupid town you live in. “Treated like shit? Making no money? No thanks for the sacrifices you made?”
You roll your eyes, “You sound like Pope. Save it, Ben.”
“Maybe he’s right about some things. Listen, we paid our dues to Tom’s family. We went through hell and everything is still the fucking same. Maybe we deserve that money.” When you don’t respond immediately, he continues, “Think about it. Hard part is already done. Money’s already stolen, we just gotta go pick it up.”
“Actually got a plan this time though?” You ask, knocking your knee into Ben’s. “Shit went so sideways last time.”
He looks away from you, bangs a fist against his thigh and stands, pacing around your porch as you watch, the Florida heat finally starting to creep in for the day. “It’s gotta be easy. In and out.”
“Aren’t Lorea’s men still in the area? Or whoever’s running the place now? Didn’t half the fucking town see your faces?”
“Who says we need to go into that town at all?”
“Ah. So there is no plan.”
“There is,” he nods at the folder he’d left on the swing next to you. “Santiago’s got something started.”
Santi.
An image flashes through your mind, of him standing on this very same porch, the roar of thunder and rain in your ears as a midnight storm passed through, the din of it so loud as Santiago stood there and hollered at you.
“You really won’t do this with us?” His voice had been harsh, a lingering accusation on his tongue. “When one of us bleeds out and you aren’t there, that’s going to be on you.”
You had recoiled, felt that sting like a slap. “Fuck you, Pope.” And you saw him flinch at the use of that name. You never called him that, you always called him by his true name. “Don’t blame your greed on me. Don’t pretend this is about anything else than that money. Lorea is a sideshow at best to you.”
“And don’t you fucking pretend like this life is enough for you! Don’t pretend like you wouldn’t do anything to get out of this fucking town!”
His hair had been damp, sticking to his forehead, a muscle jumping in his jaw. “I already did, Santiago. We’ve all been to hell and back already.” You had shaken your head, “And this is my line. I’m not fucking up those communities anymore than they already are.”
Santi’s face hadn’t changed, but his eyes had burned hotter, scorching into you. You’d touched a nerve and you knew it. “You’re a coward. I’m not even asking you to take fire. Not like before. Something happens to one of us, don’t bother coming to the fucking funeral. You’re leaving us a man down and without med support.”
“So that’s all you want me to do, huh? Come with you and play nurse? Fuck off, I’m the best shot of any of you.”
“Yeah and shit at everything else. There’s a reason we stuck you out as the sniper. Keeps you away from anything important. But now you’re leaving us without cover.”
And that, that fucking stung, you’d recoiled from him and said quietly. “Fine. I was useless all those years. My answer is still no.”
And without another glance at you, he’d walked off your porch and out of your life.
Only when Benny showed up after Tom was already in the grave did you find out what happened.
Now, you shake your head and glance at the folder, you can see the edges of a few documents poking out. “Did he send you?”
“No. No one knows I’m here. Except Will.” Of course, anything Benny knew, Benny had already shared three times over with his older brother.
“I think you’ve forgotten, Ben. Pope hates me. It’s all my fault shit went sideways for y’all.” You swallow, “According to him anyways. I left you without cover.”
It’s what you know Santi would say to you, if he’d talk to you again.
“You know he didn’t mean any of that shit. He was just pissed he wasn’t getting his way,” Benny says, still pacing the porch, floorboards creaking with every long stride. “He was just pissed he couldn’t get all of Delta back together. What happened wasn’t your fault.”
But as much as you miss Tom, as much as you had mourned him, you can’t help thinking about how much worse it would have been if it had been Benny or Will.
Or Santi.
Fuck, Santiago could have died, and that would have been on you.
A member of your family had died and you hadn’t been there, you hadn’t even been allowed to mourn.
You roll your eyes now and pick up the folder, sliding the edge of your nail beneath the thick cardstock.
But the pain in your heart lingers as you think about the anger in Santi’s eyes that day. The knowledge now that your absence might have caused a rift in the team, that Tom’s reckless play for more money than any of them could handle and Will’s wounded side slowing them down might be your fault for throwing off team dynamics.
“I get why you couldn’t do it then. But now? No one has to get hurt now. Someone worse finds that money, then what happens?”
You’d grown up with the Millers, met Santiago when you went with Benny into the army and eventually got recruited to Delta.
It had been the only way to make it out of your small town, with no money for college and no scholarship opportunities despite your grades, you’d felt it was your only chance. And going with Benny to the recruitment center to follow Will, who’d left a few years before, hadn’t seemed so bad.
You had stuck by Benny and to your surprise, or maybe to no one’s surprise, both of you were good at it. Good at shooting and killing and clawing bloody tracks into the ground beneath your feet. Good at ruining and destroying, good at being disciplined and regimented and hard. Good at following orders and being better than everyone else.
You and Benny were to become the babies of Delta Force, the younger pair that always seemed to lag a bit behind the other four more mature and experienced guys. If it weren’t for Will, you might not have been placed in the same unit. But Will had been adamant about recommending both of you, about placing both of you with Delta.
And the superiors had gotten tired of fighting with him.
Benny and Will were the brothers you never had, the family you always wanted.
Santiago and Frankie and Tom only pulled you in tighter, only made you cling on harder, gave you something solid to hang onto.
Santiago. God, Santiago.
You wanted him the moment you saw him, with that curling hair that grayed as the years wore on, with those crinkles at the corners of his eyes when he smiled that deepened every year, with the way that he stared at you like you held the secrets of the universe, with a gaze so feverish and consuming it was hard not to be pulled into his orbit, right to the center of his world.
Santiago pulled a little too hard, loved a little bit too intensely. You’d known the second he showed up at your place that stormy night that whatever he had to say to you was about to break you, that he was about to rip the thread that he had wound around his fingers since the second you met him right out of your heart.
Something about Santi was so magnetic, so intense, you couldn’t look away, pull away, if you wanted.
He annoyed you to no end, shielded you from nothing despite your awards and metals for excellency in the field, despite your being on a fucking special ops team, and one of the only women to do so no less. He and Tom had taken one look at your record the day you were reassigned to them, and advocated for your shooting skills, that you worked best at a distance, and had taken you under his wing.
You wanted to slap him and you loved him and he was so complicated that you wanted to cry just thinking about it.
Santiago was also lonely, lonely in the same way you were.
You could be in a room full of people, surrounded by those you loved, and still feel separate, apart, alone.
Santi was the same - and so you drifted together.
You were something undefined for years and maybe that was the problem.
There was a tension neither of you dared address when you were in the service together, not when things were so terribly dangerous at all times, not when feelings could get everyone killed, could have the team that was like a family pulled apart by superiors.
When your time was up and as your honorable discharge along with the rest of Delta approached, things got more real, too real. Santiago was always there at your periphery, like a wraith you couldn’t ignore.
He was the nucleus of your world, the center of your universe, and you wanted to hate him for it.
“You and Miller gonna shack up after all this, hermosa?” He’d asked one of those last few nights together, at a base canteen.
You’d looked up from the beer you were nursing. “Which one?” You tried to joke, but it didn’t land, and the tension between you thickened until you felt you might choke on it.
You had never wanted to kiss someone so bad, Santi tilting his head toward yours until he was all you could see, everything else blotted out, until the smell of his aftershave threatened to drown you or resurrect you.
“C’mon Blue. Ben seems keen on it,” he notes.
“Benny’s got more than he can handle as it is.”
You don’t know why you hadn’t just denied it, you knew there was something between you and Santiago, that he bred feelings in you that you didn’t know what to do with. But it felt too close to the truth, like something too close to your heart. So you didn’t correct yourself, and gave a hollow laugh, like it was all a joke.
It was only when you got home and things got restless and bad that it happened. Will attacked some guy in a grocery store, you had to bail Benny out of jail for bar fights twice. Frankie and Tom disappeared into their families.
And Santi…when you called, he came.
He came and he held you while you cried and wondered where everything had gone wrong. You’d escaped the town, gone farther and faster than you ever thought you would, and yet here you were back again, with a broken heart and a broken soul, and friends and brothers you couldn’t help, a listlessness settling between your bones that you didn’t know how to name.
You were still so young, and had seen and done so much, and had nothing to show for it. You had seen and done things you could never come back from.
And then, you were back in the same town, with the same people, and no prospects.
You’d had half a mind to join Benny in his bar fights, just to feel something, just to make the ache inside your bones go away. But then Will would have had to bail you both out and neither of you wanted that.
The loss of your routine, your regimented military life, sent you and the Millers spiraling for a while.
But you and Benny tended to follow Will, and when he pulled his head out of his ass, so did the two of you - group counseling, hobbies, jobs, - things that gave you meaning and routine, that kept you from spiraling into the worst kind of crisis.
Compartmentalizing became key.
But you never really figured out how to compartmentalize Santi, never knew where to slot him in your mind.
He’d been there for you, the violence and reintegration into civilian life hadn’t seemed to phase him, and maybe that was because he’d never returned to it - working with independent contractors and security services abroad, right back into the fray.
He came and went, but he always came back to you.
When you called, he came.
He had come with groceries or take out, stayed with you for a weekend. He’d refuse to let you back away from the violent feelings inside you, fucking them right out of you sometimes, letting you use him or him use you, depending on the mood.
You were something close to a relationship, but not quite.
Things got better with Santi around, with doing group therapy at the VA, your job at the diner, and taking up boxing as a hobby. Poker nights started up, bar nights, going to Benny’s fights together when he started MMA.
And when Santi was in town - even better.
You watch Benny pace around your porch now, and flip open the file. “I’ll take a look, Benny,” you say gently. “You’re gonna wear a hole through my floor.”
You couldn’t lose all of that, you can’t let your family do something so stupid without you again.
“Think about it, sweetheart,” he says, suddenly dropping next to you on the swing again, causing it to jolt and rattle your teeth. “You could do something so good with that money. Someone else finds it first, it's just gonna have more blood spilled on it.”
You laugh, “Fuck you, Benny.”
“And be set for fuckin’ life,” he says. “C’mon, what’s not to like?”
“Pope won’t like it.”
“Fuck Pope. He’ll get over it. We all miss you.”
You miss them too, and you can’t let them go alone again.
Then
The third time you break down after you’re stateside, you call Santi, because he’s your life line, your hook into reality, your tether to the Earth.
Santi always comes when you call, he always knows exactly what you need.
The first two times you called, he came with takeout, with a movie, and sat with you on your couch for two days straight because you had so much fear built up inside you, you couldn’t move.
Going into the military wasn’t the hard part, you found, it was coming home.
The third time, he finds you in the bedroom of the apartment you rented as soon as you were back in town.
“Hey,” he crouches down across from your place on the floor, curled between your nightstand and the edge of the bed. “You okay?”
“I don’t think I can do this, Santi,” you mutter, feeling like your lungs are collapsing, like you can’t breathe. “Fuck, I don’t think I can. Everything - God, it's so loud, but it's too quiet. Everyone is just going around like everything is fucking normal - like - like - ”
Like you hadn’t killed and bled and fought and cursed and -
Santi nods, “I remember my first time on leave was like that. Just sat in my fucking bedroom for two weeks straight because I didn’t know how to be anymore.”
Your frantic eyes seek his out, his intense gaze that was heavy enough to feel like a weighted blanket against you, soothing the ache inside you a little, before he holds his arms out to you.
You crawl across the carpet to fit yourself into his lap when he falls to his ass with a groan. You breathe hard and fast, his scent like catnip to you, fingers tangling hard into his shirt.
“Thought you were gonna hole up with Ben.”
“Fuck you, Santiago. You know Ben is like my brother,” you grit out, pulling so hard on his shirt that you think it might rip in your fingers. You tuck your head under his chin, feel the slow slide of his touch up your side, listen to the steady beat of his heart.
His touch is warm, it grounds you, makes you feel so very safe.
His comment about Benny reminds you of something, of something you should have told him that night weeks ago at the canteen.
“Maybe I shouldn’t say it now, but Santi I -,”
Before you can continue, he presses a finger under your chin, to tip your head up. He doesn’t do anything, doesn’t say anything, just stares at you - just pins you down with that unwavering stare, brown eyes like chips of amber.
“I know,” he says simply, so gentle and cocksure as the corner of his mouth quirks up. “I know, hermosa. Me too.”
You suck in a breath but whatever you’re about to say, dies on your lips. Santiago presses a hand to the back of your neck, holds you firm and doesn’t let you look away, his eyes flicking down your face. “Tell me you want me, baby. I’ll give it to you. Help you shut out the world.”
You’re so drunk on his gaze, at the way he holds you hard and soft and tight and fucking perfect - that you don’t hesitate when you say, “Please, Santi, I want you.” Your voice is barely above a whisper, but he hears you.
One strong hand cups beneath your chin, fingers tight against your skin as Santiago kisses you for the first time.
It’s not a gentle kiss.
It’s like breathing in smoke, like choking down hot coal, but you revel in the pain, you take pleasure in the way he fights to consume you, in the way his strong jaw juts forward in a harsh pass of his lips against yours.
He’s rough with you, that first time, because he knows it's what you need, that you can handle it, that you’ve had worse.
But you’ve never had better, will never have better again.
Santiago kisses you like a man possessed, he bites you, he tears his fingers into your flesh, down into the marrow of your bones. He pushes you down into the carpet and doesn’t waste time with helping you out of your clothes.
He shoves his hand down the front of your cotton shorts without preamble, his fingers expert in seeking out your wet heat. His mouth stays on yours as you tug at his hair, pull and pull until he hisses and shoves a finger inside you.
You forget about the world, about how you don’t recognize your town and recognize it all too well - how the ordered madness you were used to sustaining you was gone.
The pain you feel is subsumed by Santiago’s heavy presence, the way he pulls back from you but hardly lets you breathe - his fingers in your mouth, the taste of yourself in your mouth, his hand insistent on the back of your neck.
You claw at his back, raking your nails over him as he licks into your mouth, holding your head still with a hand on your neck, beneath your jaw. He pinches your nipple through your shirt so hard it stings but all you can do is arch up into him.
Santi pulls back from you, a whine you can’t control rattling out of your throat.
“Fuuuck,” he groans into your skin, “Fuck. Fuck.”
He pulls back and yanks on your shorts, “Off.”
You scramble to remove your hands from him, to push your shorts down your legs until they get caught up on your ankles.
Santi doesn’t bother with undressing, just yanks down the zipper of his jeans until he can free himself. He sits back with a groan, knees protesting, so he can yank your shorts off your ankles before he slots himself back over you, his dick slipping against you.
The heat of him clears your mind, the anxiety and the thoughts you couldn’t stop from consuming you before, washing away until your mind is pleasantly empty, a blank white space that only Santiago can fill.
The town doesn’t exist, the past doesn’t exist, none of the things you’d done exists, you are purified, you are only the tips of your toes and the edges of your fingers, one long nerve ending.
His mouth is back on yours and you curl your hands back into his hair again, groaning into his mouth when he roughly yanks up the hem of your shirt to your armpits, large calloused hand palming your tits roughly, his mouth skating down your throat to your chest, until he can pull one stiff nipple between his teeth and tug.
You can only moan, fisting your hand into his hair to jerk his lips back to yours.
“Santi,” you murmur against his mouth. “Santi.”
“That’s it, hermosa. Say my name,” he breathes into your skin as he notches his cock at your entrance. “Say my name,” he demands when you don’t immediately answer.
“Santiago,” you whimper, pathetically needy, the air punched out of your lungs when his hips snap forward. He’s fully seated within you in one hard push, your thighs burning, the stretch of him so painful you cry out. “Don’t,” you hold onto his arms, force him to stay where he is when he starts to pull back. “Fuck, don’t, feels so good.”
Santiago doesn’t need anymore encouragement, hips drawing back just far enough to slam into you again, pushing you up the carpet.
He sets a brutal pace, your cunt stretching to accommodate him, the burn easing and the pleasure settling in.
Santiago whispers to you in Spanish and even though you speak the language well enough, you can’t make yourself understand what he’s saying.
The heat builds inside you until you feel like you might scream, until you feel like your body might give out on you.
But Santi always knows what you need, always knows you.
And so he slows the pace of his hips, dips his mouth to your neck and presses a finger through your folds, tracing circles around your clit until you come with an earth shattering force.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he’s muttering against the sweat slick skin of your throat, the only thing real in the whole world to you in that moment him. “Look at you, fucking soaked my cock, baby. So perfect.” And then he’s whispering in Spanish again, something about so fucking perfect, all mine. You’re fucking mine.
You don’t let Santiago pull away from you, the hot weight of him against you drowning out every horrifying thought in your head. You feel him seeping out of you, feel the grip of his fingers against the fleshy part of your hip, tangled in the hair at the nape of your neck.
He doesn’t move, doesn't try to, and stays buried inside you. Santiago whispers sweet as sugar words right into your hairline until he’s hard again, and then he fucks you so softly - you’re sure its what love should feel like.
~
And so, for a while after you come home, that’s all your life is, fighting and fucking and hating the world for chewing you up and spitting you out, and not being strong enough to fucking take it.
~
The fucking is by far the best part.
You feel best when Santiago is with you, when his cock is buried so deep inside you it’s the only thing you can think about - when you’re cockdumb and sex drunk.
That’s when things feel normal again.
That’s when your brain finally shuts the fuck up.
But then Will pulls it together, starts getting real help, and inevitably you and Benny follow suit.
It doesn’t stop you and Santi from fucking like rabbits, but it makes it softer, it lets you round out the edges of your heart against his.
The thing between you stays undefined, but it comes somewhere close to ownership. Santi is yours and you are his, though it’s never said out loud.
He dances with you around your kitchen, spars with you in your backyard when you put a down payment on your house, cooks you breakfast, and asks for input on his consulting jobs.
Santi tries to get you to come with him, back to those places you’d left behind, back to the fight, back to the guns and blood and drugs.
But you can’t do it, at least not yet.
For a moment in time, you are content, content with that small town, your little job.
Will starts giving speeches to recruits, Benny starts MMA, Frankie gets married, Tom spends more time with his daughter.
You and Santiago - your worlds revolve around each other, when he’s in town and when he isn’t, how quickly he can drive from the airport to your house, how he catches you in the front yard in his arms and spins you around.
Sometimes, you don’t even make it inside.
You have no neighbors for several miles, and the front porch steps were a good a place as any to fuck.
Unfortunately that’s the same day that Will decides to swing by with your new boxing gloves you’d asked him to get you. Will gets a full view of Santi’s ass, but he never pulls out, never stops fucking you.
“He’s seen worse,” he laughs into your ear, nipping at your skin as heat pools embarrassment around your bones, the man who was like your brother doing a one-eighty to hightail it back down the road. “Don’t worry about him, cariño.”
It’s then as he laughs and kisses you, kisses away the annoyed groan, that you realize that you love him, really love him.
And that you’d probably never love anyone else.
Now
“Hey, there she is!” You hear Will announce as soon as you slam the door of your truck shut, parked against the curb outside Santi’s place.
“Hey Blue,” Frankie calls when you approach the group sitting around a picnic table, a canopy of emerald green shielding them from the sun and prying eyes. A cooler of beer popped open, burgers on the grill.
You smile and accept the hug Frankie offers you, moving quickly to Will and then Benny, despite seeing the Millers often enough, now that you and Ben were back to seeing each other daily.
Santi can’t even be bothered enough to turn from the grill. He says nothing and a fissure of pain cracks open your chest, your heart bleeding all over again, just like that.
“How’re you Frankie? How’s the baby?” You slide into the open space next to him on the bench, accepting the beer he reaches down into the cooler at his side to hand you.
Will automatically starts constructing a burger for you, disregarding the onions and adding extra pickles and an extra slice of cheese, without you having to ask.
It makes your heart hurt to be with them. These were the people you’d been through so much with, who knew so many little things about you.
No onions, extra pickles, extra cheese.
You feel the absence of Tom suddenly, like a hole in the middle of your little family.
Santi’s disregard does nothing to help the feeling.
“Good,” Frankie says. “They’re okay.”
“That’s great-,”
“So,” Benny interrupts, ever tackless, “We gonna talk about this thing or not?”
“Jesus, Ben,” Will says. “Let her settle in.”
Benny raises his brows and looks at you, “You settled?”
“I’m good,” you nod, “Always.”
“There ya go, girl’s all settled up. Let’s talk.”
Santiago joins you at the table then, plate of freshly grilled burgers deposited in the center of the table.
Will passes you the burger he’d assembled for you.
Silence descends, awkward and piercing for a long moment as you look around at them. Pope holds your gaze when you meet his eyes, and for the first time in years, you can’t read the look in them.
You glance away, back at Frankie who you haven’t seen since forever and Will who you infrequently saw these days. “I missed y’all,” you blurt out before you can stop yourself.
The heckling that immediately follows breaks the ice surrounding the group of you, Frankie cooing sarcastically at you as Will laughs and Benny breaks open a bag of chips that you know he won’t share with anyone else.
“Fuck you guys,” you say without venom.
“We missed you too, kid,” Will says, Frankie throwing an arm around your shoulders.
“Yeah, sister,” Frankie intones, “When are you finally gonna come meet my kid?”
You take a sip of your beer, “As soon as you invite me, Fish.”
“So you take invitations now?” Santiago’s voice cuts through the chatter, his eyes are still glued to your face when you look back at him, the coolness in his voice matching the ice in his eyes.
Something in your chest crumbles and you can’t make yourself keep his gaze this time.
You glance away.
“Pope,” Will warns, a threat lurking in his voice. “You wanna start us off?”
Santiago finally looks away from you, his jaw clenching, before he rattles off the strategy he’d devised - a one day plot to get the money.
You sit and listen without looking at him, thinking of all the ways this plan can go sideways. Again.
Thinking of all the ways you could lose another one of your boys, how the group might not survive losing another member.
You hear the others take up threads, concerns - namely how you would get the money out of the ravine, how it could be transported without notice to the beach. They would hire the same boat as the last time, to transport the money off the coast and out of the country, to the same bank setting up the off-shore shell accounts.
“Can you approach the ravine from any other way than through that town?” You ask.
“Not unless we’re goin’ over the fuckin’ Andes again,” Benny answers you. “And I’m out if that’s the plan.”
“No,” Santi confirms, “Through the town is the only way.”
You consider quietly, biting into your burger as Will details the town’s layout, where you could expect areas that would probably cause issues for you.
“And weapons?” You inquire. “We need to be armed.”
“There’s a shipping freight -,” Santi offers.
“Oh, fuck, you’re not seriously considering arms trafficking on top of everything else, are you? That’s so fucking tracable.”
“You got a problem you can fucking go,” Santi bites back at you. “We don’t have the benefit of time to go scrambling for arms sourced in-country.”
You bite the inside of your cheek and consider for a moment wondering if you should offer or if Pope would just bite your head off again. “No,” you say quietly. “I think I might be able to help there. Contact that might be able to make a drop for us. Something locally sourced.”
Will is nodding, smiles at you, “So no arms trafficking. That’s something.”
Santi reluctantly nods, shoulders loosening.
You might be at odds at the moment, but he does trust you with things like this, knows you would never suggest something that might put the team at a real risk. “I’ll reach out and let you know when it's confirmed.”
Pope saws a hand over his chin and nods, and you recognize that gleam in his eyes, that intensity that said he was starting to believe in this plan, he was starting to see the fruits of this labor.
It's akin to the way he used to look at you, when he would make promises to you that he eventually broke.
The rest of the conversation passes you by, rappelling gear and fuel and rations and passports and how to move the money once it was out of the ravine - but you can’t stop looking at Santi.
He’s always been beautiful, since you first met him all those years ago, when you and Benny had just passed the ASVAB and were then recommended to join Delta by Will.
Anything to keep the siblings together.
He’d been beautiful then with wild dark curls and brown skin darkened by sun exposure, solid and sure and steady.
But now, with the pepper of gray in his hair and the darkness in his eyes, the kindness that he showed every stranger, the slightly startled way he always laughed, his creaky knees - well, he’d only gotten more beautiful.
Age suited him well.
The conversation closes - with you assigned to the arms issue and Will sorting out local transport, if the money was even possible to retrieve.
Benny pokes you in the side as he helps Frankie ball up the used paper plates and gather empty beer bottles, and tilts his head toward where Santi stands fiddling with the grill.
You roll your eyes and shove him back but take the hint and stand.
Santi doesn’t turn when you stop next to him, watching as he meticulously cleans the grill.
“We gonna hate each other forever?” You ask, stepping close to him, his shoulders going stiff beneath his t-shirt.
“I don’t hate you,” he mutters, glancing up but not quite meeting your eyes as he drops the scrub brush in his hand, folding his arms over his chest.
“No? Sure seems like it,” you muse. “Didn’t even invite me to Redfly’s funeral.”
Santi says your name, a sigh that makes your stomach curdle. “We didn’t want you implicated. Everything had went so fuckin’ bad and you knew way more than I should have told you.”
You nod, like it makes you feel any better. “Yeah, I get it.” You almost don’t ask, but you can’t help the question that slips out, “And after that? Why didn’t you come home after that?”
Santiago finally looks at you, his intense gaze locking onto yours and you freeze, pinned down by that heaviness, that stare that is so soft and piercing. The ice in his eyes has curiously melted down into a warm brown, his brows tugging together. “I’d done enough damage.”
And he leaves it at that.
~
Santiago always comes when you call, and you call him for the first time since he left your porch that last night before things went to hell.
Benny’s already at your place, parked on the couch in front of the TV with a beer in his hand and a bag of cheetos spilling onto the worn fabric.
“Hey Benny boy,” you hear Santiago say when he comes in the back door. “Our girl around?”
Our girl - something all the guys used to teasingly say, something that had annoyed you to no end because you just wanted to be, be a part of the team and the family. It was only after a year being with Delta that you’d realized that was exactly what it meant. That you belonged.
“Blue’s in the kitchen,” you hear Benny say through a mouthful of what you’re sure is toxic orange cheeto dust drifting down onto your couch.
Santi laughs and his footsteps sound on the linoleum, tracking closer to you. “Hey,” he says. “Benny’s fucking up your couch.”
“Yeah nothing new there,” you say, turning from the counter where you’ve just finished rolling out premade pizza dough onto a tray. “It’s a Friday tradition at this point. Beer and fucking up the couch with crumbs.”
Santi stands in the doorway, gazing around with a stricken expression for a moment, and you wonder if it's jarring for him - to be back in this house with you, after spending so much time in it and then leaving it abruptly behind.
You’d quit each other cold turkey, and the separation had not been easy for you. Especially not when traces of Pope lived all through the house, not when he’d fucked you in every room, made you laugh in every room, carried you from the couch to bed, cooked meals together, danced together.
But when Santi meets your eyes, his gaze goes intense, assessing, like he’ll never know everything about you. But sometimes, like now, that ferociousness also feels like it's concealing something, hiding something.
“You had an update?” He prompts, leaning against the door jam with his arms crossed, ball cap shading his eyes as he scuffs a booted toe against the floor.
“Yeah, thought I probably shouldn’t be sharing over the phone,” you wipe your hands on a dishtowel and try not to feel his gaze lingering on you from beneath the bill of his hat. You turn to the fridge and dig out the pizza sauce you’d made earlier in the week with the tomatoes that Santi had once planted in your backyard, various cheeses, and the toppings Benny had brought over.
He had a bizarre palate that you didn’t try to understand - so one side would be Benny and the other just cheese.
“My contact got back to me. He can make the drop. But only to me,” you hip check the silverware drawer closed after grabbing a spoon and turn back to the pizza, spooning sauce onto the dough.
“I’m thinking this,” you continue, “I go into the town alone, do the weapons pick-up, get the transport Will is arranging, meet y’all down the coast and we go around and up into the mountains. I know it's a way longer route but it's probably worth it for you guys not to go through the town. In the meantime, you guys just have to sit tight in that cove's cave.” You nod at a folded map at the end of the counter. “If we can get enough fuel arranged, there’s a way around that I mapped out. Roads shouldn’t be too much trouble this time of year.”
He doesn’t move to pick up the map.
You finish with the sauce and start sprinkling cheese, feeling Santi lurch away from the doorway and approach you slowly, until he’s beside you and every muscle in your body is tense and hot. “Fuck, you’re serious, aren’t you?”
“It’s a good plan,” you say, tearing some fresh mozzarella. “Keeps you boys outta the town. Gets us weapons that were sourced in-country, fuel, and a ride.”
“And puts you right in the firing line. You’d haveta land and be without weapons until the drop. What if your contact doesn’t show?”
“I’ll be fine. I’m the only face that won’t be recognized.”
Santi rolls his eyes, “They’ll know you’re a foreigner and that might be enough.”
“I’ll be careful.”
You can feel Santiago’s irritation building. “Why are you so gung-ho to do this now? You’ve always been shit at infiltration. There’s a reason you’re the sniper.”
Since one of you died! You want to shout.
“Fuck off, Pope,” you say instead as he takes his hat off and tosses it down, leaning his forearms onto the counter next to you before ducking his head and running his hands through his hair. “You know why I didn’t want to do it the first time around. And now -,”
And now you were terrified that if you didn’t go, another member of your family would come home in a bodybag.
And you wouldn’t even get to go to the funeral.
And this time it could be Santi or Benny or -
You clench your eyes shut, the heat of Santiago next to you too much suddenly. You suck in a sharp breath and try to get the panic bubbling up under control.
“Hey -,”
His voice is too soft, too close.
“Whatever,” you cut him off. “What-fucking-ever, Pope. I’m shit. I was never valuable to Delta. I get it, okay? But this is your best shot. Unless you wanna go coordinate shipping arms into some backwater town through cartel territory.”
Santiago stares at you, his gaze wide and shocked, so unlike the hard stare he usually sported. His mouth softens a fraction but you turn away, adding the gross shit Benny wanted onto his side of the pizza.
“Yes or no?” you ask. “This is it. This is how we do it.”
“One of us stays with you. We split two-three.” You open your mouth to retort when he continues, his voice strangely quiet. “I understand you have to go to the drop by yourself, everything else doesn’t haveta be. You need someone watching your six.”
You heave a sigh, picking up the pan with the finished pizza to stick in the oven. “Jesus, what the hell does that kid eat?” Santi asks, noting the toppings.
“Shit,” you answer, snapping the oven door closed. “Who?”
“Frankie. He can make up for your shit Spanish.”
You quickly catalog another thing you’re deficient in, swallowing thickly.
“Fine.”
Santi nods and keeps staring at you, staring at you standing in the middle of your kitchen with your arms crossed.
And you feel the sudden urge to cry, to break down and scream.
Your breath is heavy in your chest, and the weight of Santi’s eyes on you doesn’t help.
“We should talk about it,” he says.
You shake your head, grab a beer from the fridge and walk out of the kitchen, down the hall and past the living room where Benny was invested in a baseball game, and out onto your back deck.
Santiago follows you, snapping the screen door closed after him. “C’mon.”
“No. You left it the way it is. We don’t need to talk about it,” you knock the bottle cap off the beer with one well placed smack against the edge of the deck railing.
But you can’t find it in yourself to drink it and so you set it aside.
Santi’s jaw clenches and he runs an agitated hand through his hair, pacing a line back and forth before he stops and cups a hand over his chin. “Don’t be stubborn about this, Blue.”
“Fuck off, Pope.”
He rolls his eyes and approaches you, stepping right into your space, crowding you against the banister, bracketing his arms around you, palms against the railing behind you. He tilts his head over yours, his nose nearly touching yours. “I missed you. I wanted to come back. I didn’t know how.”
You scoff. “It was easy. You could have walked through the door.” You grit your teeth, “Would you have even told me Tom died? Or would I have seen it on fucking Facebook from his widow months later?”
Santi flinches at your accusation but doesn’t back down, his eyes still boring into your, his voice quiet. “Yes. You’re our family. You know one of us would have, if Ben hadn’t.”
“Right,” you say disbelievingly. “It hurt the most that I didn’t hear from you. Did I ever really mean anything to you? Or was I just a liability to the team? Another whore to get you through the night?”
“What?”
“Don’t fuck with me, Santiago. You never came home. And I know you were fucking people when you were out of town. I always knew.”
His eyes are so dark they read black in the fading evening sunshine. “Is that what you think? That I was sitting around here playing house with you for fun?”
Your belly lurches. “Get away from me,” you snap, shoving at his shoulder. “I don’t need you to call me stupid in my own house. I got it, Santi. I wasn’t good enough for the team and I wasn’t good enough for you. I get it.”
He makes a noise of frustration and doesn’t move. “Stop being so fucking hardheaded.”
“Okay,” you sniff. “Go ahead then. What do you want to say? About that night, about why you never came home? About what you said to me?”
Santi gapes at you, clearly not expecting you to just give into him, “I - I -,” he flounders.
“Yeah,” you duck under his arm, snatch up your beer, and head back inside, “That’s what I thought.”
~
“You never went out there to see her? Fuuuck man, no wonder she’s pissed,” Benny says, offloading their tac bags into the sand of the cove from the dinghy, the walls of the cave-like outcropping reflecting in the shallow water.
Will moves the bags further up the sand and doesn’t say anything.
And Santiago - he doesn’t know what to fucking say about any of it.
Going back to that house, back to you, after everything he’d said to you, after he’d implied that any injuries they got would be your fault, after he told you that you were a weight to their team even though it was the farthest thing from the truth.
He didn’t know how to go back to you.
He didn’t know how to make things right, and so one month had turned into two had turned into six.
“She never said anything?” Santi asks Benny, almost afraid of what the answer might be.
“Not like we sit around talking about you, man. I wasn’t out there all that much for a while. Going through my own shit,” Benny says, jumping out of the boat to work on tying it down.
Santi thinks about Benny going out to your place, dumping all his shit on you and leaving. Of Will and Frankie visiting infrequently, because they were, as Benny so eloquently put it - going through their own shit in the aftermath of that mission.
All of them wrongly assuming that Santi had been to see you, that he was still seeing you.
All of them thinking that you were okay because Santi was always with you.
Fuck.
Fuck.
No wonder you felt abandoned. No wonder you believed him when he’d said -
He can’t think about that right now.
You must have felt like you lost all of them for a while.
“Check-in with Fish and Blue,” he snarls at Benny instead. “I want an update. They landed yesterday and should already be on their way here.”
Benny glances at Will but neither of them say anything as he fiddles with the comms.
Santiago makes a point of not looking at either of them, pointlessly cataloging the shit they did bring with them, mainly rappelling equipment, rations, and protective gear.
The comm in his ear statics and then Benny’s voice is reaching out for a status report.
Your voice comes back after only a few minutes. “Hey Ben,” you say, your voice clear but with a rift in it, a thick line of tension. “Heading your way. Should be there around 1900 hours. Sit tight.”
“Roger. Sitting tight.”
Santiago opens his own line. “Report,” he barks out, not satisfied with the way you sound, that slight crack in the edge of your voice.
“Cargo en route, Pope,” is the only response he receives.
“Roger, Blue,” he says. “Any trouble?”
There’s a long silence before you respond. “Minor incident. Intercepted in vehicle retrieval. One dead. No witnesses. Minimal injuries.”
“Injury report.”
“Fuck, Pope,” Will mutters, “They’ll be here in a couple hours. Leave it.”
“Fish is fine,” you say and Santiago’s heart seizes because that means - “I was grazed. Minimal impact. Over and out, see you soon Delta one.”
Your line clicks out, the static retreating.
“Fuck,” he whispers. “Fuck.”
“C’mon, Pope,” Will says, “Quit thinking with your dick. We’ve all been shot. She was only grazed. They’re fine and heading to us.” He sits back on the sand, Benny following suit.
He knows.
Fuck, he knows.
He tucks the information away - compartmentalizes it and hopes like hell it works.
~
You and Fish show up exactly when you say you will, radioing out to them when you were a couple klicks away.
Santiago and Will head up to help you hide the truck you arrive in, grab the duffle bags full of weapons.
The cache you’ve been provided with is well stocked and Will whistles when he sees it. “Fuck, Blue, you’ve got one hell of a contact.”
You smile tightly at him, limping around the front of the truck.
Santiago’s breath catches when he sees you.
It’s hell to see you looking like that again. Although you’re in jeans - the rest of the getup is similar enough to the fatigues you used to sport that it makes his chest tighten. Your hair is tucked back, a backward ball cap on your head, and he recognizes it as one of his, one he must have left at your place. Sunglasses are hitched up above your brow.
You have a strip of cloth tied around your upper thigh, and Frankie has one concerned hand under your elbow.
Santiago never wanted to see you like this again, never wanted to have to think about you being shot at again.
You ignore his stare and say to Frankie, “C’mere and help me calculate this fuel shit. We need to be sure it's more than enough to get us there and back with room for detours.”
Frankie opens the back door and lets you rummage around in another bag before turning back with a scrap of paper and pen.
When Santi just stands there staring at you, you turn and tilt your head. “Gonna help Ironhead with that shit, Pope?”
He flinches, can’t help himself when he hears you call him that, it takes him back to your porch, to the words he can never take back.
Santiago doesn’t say anything, catches Frankie roll his eyes as Santi turns and grabs a couple bags to drag down to the cove.
A few minutes later you and Fish make your way to the cave. “-wish we had a bit more but that should do.”
“It’ll be fine,” Fish assures you, sounding a lot less concerned than you.
“Uh huh,” you say, dropping next to Benny on the sand to take the canteen he offers you.
Will turns to look at you, his eyes flicking over the bandage on your leg. “What happened?”
“Exactly what I said. Some guy caught us grabbing the truck. He shot first, Fish took ‘im out.”
All cold practicality, Will answers, “Clean it properly.”
Fish laughs and raises a brow at you and Santi knows he had already told you to do it.
You roll your eyes and glance at Benny with an exasperated huff of breath.
Before, when you served together, Santiago would have read that look all wrong, would have seen something more than what it was. Now, he sees it for what it is - two younger siblings exasperated by their older brother.
You and Ben have been attached at the hip since the third grade, and have done nearly everything in your life together. You were best friends and nothing more than that. In fact the idea probably repulsed both of you.
He wonders what it was like for you then, when Benny suddenly wasn’t around anymore after the failed Colombia mission.
Santi hooks one of the hand guns into the holster on his hip, grabs a first aid kit, and crosses to you. “I got it.”
He holds out a hand and you hesitate for only a moment before taking his hand and letting him haul you up. He leads you a little way from the group while they continue sorting the weapons out, nodding for you to lean back into the edge of the beached boat.
“Shit,” Santiago mutters when he crouches down and peels the makeshift bandage off of your thigh. “This is more than a graze, you got ate, mi vida.”
“Only a little. No bullet in me.”
He shakes his head and briskly cleans the wound, dresses it with a proper bandage and a wrapping of gauze around your thigh. He slides his knuckles down to your knee and glances up at you. “Fuck, Blue, please. Be careful.”
“You think I got shot on purpose?” You ask, amused rather than pissed for once, as he stands.
He licks his lips and plants his hands on his hips, not able to keep his eyes off you.
Fuck were you pretty.
Even in fatigues and sweating from the humidity, you were so fucking beautiful.
And then he notices the rings on your fingers, notices the ring that he gave you years ago now, and his mouth goes dry, his heart pumps like it’s trying to break the cage of his ribs.
“‘Course not. Just saying. Be careful.”
“Okay,” you agree. “When should we head out? Frankie -,” you call and the other man glances over at the two of you. “We thought 0400 hours, right?”
“Right,” he confirms quietly, “Early enough that we’ve got a bit of light but it's still dark,” he agrees.
“There ya go, Pope,” you say.
He doesn’t look away from you, can’t quite manage it. “You’ve got my hat.”
“My hat now,” you snip. “Left it in my house.”
“You ever gonna forgive me?” He doesn’t know why he asks, it's not like he deserves it.
“Dunno, Santi,” you say. “You ever gonna apologize?”
He clenches his jaw and walks away from you, announcing, “We’re out at 0400 hours. Sharp.”
~
The sun is only really starting to blaze alive when you park the truck at the edge of a canyon. “We gotta walk from here, y’all,” you say, slapping the map down between Will and Santiago in the front seat.
“Hooah,” Benny intones, popping open his door so you can slide out behind him.
When the truck is hidden in the foliage and you’re all geared up, you say, “So, I was thinking, I can split with you guys here, follow the ridgeline up so I can see farther-,”
“We aren’t splitting up again,” Santi says, lowering protective glasses over his eyes. “You’ll be able to see plenty in either direction from the ravine.”
“Are you sure-,”
“Yes,” he grits his teeth. “We’re wasting time, let's go.”
So you wrap the strap of your rifle around your neck and go.
You don’t talk as you move through the canyon and through the mountainside, up the steep rocky crags, Santiago at the head with a GPS and the coordinates.
Finding the correct ravine is surprisingly easy, and you peer over the side to see a mountain of snow at the bottom. “Looks like you guys will be digging.”
“Wonderful,” Frankie says. “You wanna trade? I’ll man the horizon.”
You smirk, “Nah, I’m good here.” You screw a silencer onto the end of your rifle and walk away, scouting for a position where you could easily see in all directions to cover them while they worked.
“Not too far,” Pope says into the comms and you don’t bother to turn, waving a hand above your head to show you heard.
You settle down, between two rocks, adjusting the scope on your rifle to make sure you have a clear view.
“Blue, check-in,” Frankie’s voice comes over the comm. “Pope can’t see you and has his panties in a twist.”
You chuckle and respond, “That’s the idea. Present and accounted for. How’s it going, boys?”
“Benny and Santi rappelling down now.”
You don’t respond, focusing instead on your task, wondering how long it would take them to get all of it out of the ravine, if they would have to dig it out of the snow, if it was even still there, how long it would take to haul out to the truck.
Two hours pass in which the horizon in all directions is clear, and which the boys stay silent in your ear.
And then - “Fuck yeah! Money’s still here baby!” Benny nearly deafens you and the others. A long string of curses and hyena-like laughter follows.
“Shut the fuck up, Ben! Jesus,” Will mutters. “Just get it the fuck up here.”
“Keep your head on straight,” you say into your comm. “We’re not taking more than we can handle, got it?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Santi says. “Of course.”
“I’m serious. I will leave you here, Pope.”
“I’ll leave him here,” Frankie adds.
The rest of the day passes by slowly, and without incident. Occasional comments come through but nothing that warranted a response until near sundown, “Come on back, Blue,” Will says.
“Done already?”
“For tonight.”
When you approach the camp, duffle bags are strewn around.
Many more than you expected.
“Jesus, you sure this isn’t all of it?” You assess the amount of bags. “Think we might have to be okay with this.” You shoulder your M16, “We should start moving it to the truck now.”
The guys glance at each other. “C’mon,” you whine, annoyed with them. “Y’all really gonna let money go to your head again?”
“You don’t want any?”
“Any is more than none, which is what I have now,” you say. “And no, Ben, I don’t need a Ferrari.”
They all glance at each other, then, “One more run tonight and then we’re done. We’ll move the cash in the morning, and be on the boat by the afternoon.”
You roll your eyes, “Fine, whatever.”
Benny hoots and goes about getting strapped into the harness again, Will following suit.
“That was kind of you,” Frankie says, coming to stand next to you with arms folded across his chest. “We coulda used your level head last time.”
You feel your heart sink, surprised Fish would say anything about it to you. “Yeah,” you say softly, watching Santi help Ben and Will start down the cliffside. “I know it's my fault that it went down the way it did. I’m sorry.”
Fish is silent for a few minutes as you watch the boys, before he suddenly turns to you, “Wait, what? Your fault?”
You press your lips together, Will and Benny finally disappearing as the last light faded from the sky. “Threw off the team. Wasn’t here to-,”
“Hold on. We’re grown fucking men and you had the choice to say no. No one’s holdin’ that against you.”
You don’t answer, watching Santi, the broad line of his shoulders, the firm set of him as he keeps an eye on the ropes.
“Not everyone thinks that.”
“What, Pope?” When you don’t answer he continues, shaking his head. “God, if I know anything about Santiago it's that he’s upside down, head over heels, makes him look stupid, in love with you. And he has been since you and that fucker Ben rolled up to Delta like you already belonged.”
You swallow, not sure what to say, your throat dry as you rub your hands together and then stuff them under your armpits to keep them warm in the cooling air. “Oh yeah? Helluva way of showin’ it. He said I was fuckin’ useless. Called me a coward. Said anything that happened to y’all was my fault. And then Tom died. And you all were never around anymore, not even Benny.”
“Shit, honey,” he says softly. “We thought Santi was still going out there to see you every chance his dumbass got.” He pauses and then looks over at you, shifting to cradle his weapon in his arms. “As for that other shit, Pope says some shit when he gets mad, and no one gets under his skin better than you. You know nothing that happened down here was your fault. It was our fault, our choices.”
You bite the side of your cheek. “Thanks, Fish.”
“You can call it stupid if you want. It was.”
“It was stupid and you’re all greedy bastards,” you say, knocking a shoulder into his.
He smiles, “Yeah. But it might just work out this time.”
~
The night passes easily.
You don’t start a fire, and the guys are curiously silent about the prospect though you know it's smarter not to start one and draw attention to your position.
Benny takes the first watch and you end up sandwiched between Frankie and Santiago.
It takes all your willpower not to curl into him, the smell of him exactly as you remember, the heat of him, the press of him against you.
Right when you’re about to fall asleep, you feel Santi’s fingers curl through yours and squeeze gently, his lips at your ear. “I’m so fucking sorry, mi vida.”
~
The next morning, at first light, with most of the cash already transported to the truck, you spot movement on the ridgeline, and when you lift your scope to your eye and see bodies traveling down the rocky mountainside.
You call out a warning just as the first shot slams into the ground several feet from you.
You duck for cover before coming up on a knee to squeeze your own trigger, the silencer muffling the sound of the shot.
Santi turns and watches a distant body fall to the ground, as he too falls behind one of the many boulders.
“Hey, hey, what the fuck are we shooting at?” Ben yells at you as you grab him and yank him down beside you.
“We gotta go,” you spit out over the comms as Benny lifts his body away from yours to take a couple shots of his own, clearly felling his targets by the look on his face, “Looks like somebody patrols this area now. Probably because of you fuckers.”
“Frankie, Will, stay where you are,” Santiago says over the comms.
“What’s going on?” Will snarls back.
“Fuck just -,”
You pop off another shot, using hand signals to tell Santi to start moving his ass toward the treeline. He’s closer to your exit route than you and Ben. “They’re all down the fucking mountain - we’re about to be cut off. We need to go,” you say into the comms. “Grab that shit and let's go,” you say to Benny, pointing to the last duffle bag at your feet before gripping his tac vest as you start moving forward together against the rocks as fast as you dare.
You look ahead and note that Santiago isn’t moving, instead standing his ground and shooting back at the ridgeline, covering the two of you.
It’s a stupid fucking move. There were too many of them, too many shots for it to make a difference. But he’s clearly waiting for the two of you, the babies of Delta, to make it back to him before he moves off. The rest of them had always been overprotective of you and Ben though none of them would ever admit it. They know you’re both more than capable but that didn’t stop them from double and triple asking if you were sure you wanted to do something, or making it a priority to intervene when one of you were in trouble, especially Will when it came to you and Benny.
And while you hadn’t been here before, you know.
This is where Tom died. This is where they lost everything.
Santiago doesn’t like to lose.
“Fuck!” You can hear him shout, directing Benny to stop with a raised fist, moving back toward you instead away from you.
They’re close enough now that you can hear shouts, and you meet nearer to the trees, all three of you pressed behind a rock.
“What the fuck are you doing?” Benny is screaming, the noise muffled in your ear, your concentration fastened back on the moving targets, the bodies, the people. You take a steadying breath and line up your shots. “You’re going to get us fucking killed!” Benny continues. “What the fuck, man! We had it!”
You always were the best shot of Delta, and the people closest to you fall.
You can’t tell if they’re dead.
The clip is empty and you take a moment to reload, slamming the cartridge into place with more force than necessary.
“You really must think me fucking useless if you think I can’t move six feet without you!” You shout at Santiago, who grabs the two of you and shoves you ahead of him, crouched down low. “You fucker!”
“Fuck! It’s not about that-,” he starts, but you ignore him moving quickly over unsteady ground.
You and Benny are younger than the rest of the team by years, and it shows now, Santi panting as you run and cuss without a hitch in your breath. Ben cursing in front of you the whole way.
“You stupid fucker,” you snarl again, Benny echoing your sentiment as you pause again, bullets richoching around you.
Santi pants as he leans back against the rock for a moment, letting you rage against him, fear eating your heart because he had just ran at you. He had ran back to you for no fucking reason and now he might die with you and Benny. You raise yourself up to shoot back again, Benny taking shots to the right.
“They’re closing in, we need to move,” Benny says, radioing over the comms to warn Frankie and Will to have the truck ready and waiting.
You and Santi are silent, taking coordinated shots.
“Fuck! Why are there so many of them?” You grit your teeth, the recoil of the gun against you starting to bruise.
“They knew we lost that money, they’ve been waiting for someone to come poking around for it so they could get it,” Santi says, his breathing even again. “Probably set up patrols here after we came though.”
You glance over at him to ask why he hadn’t shared that thought before this moment, and feel your heart stop. Up the rockside and to the left, there at the edge of the rocks, a kid stands with a gun sighted up on Santiago.
“Santi,” you whisper, voice hoarse. And then so loud, you hurt you own ears, “Santi!”
He starts to turn but you reach over and grab him by the back of his neck, jerking him down, and using the leverage to haul yourself up above him. The kid shoots at the same time you do.
Your bullet lodges between his eyes, but the shot that would have split Santago’s skull in two, lodges deep into the fleshy part of you between your shoulder and your clavicle. You wobble and then crash back between Santi and Ben, not entirely sure what just happened.
You look down at yourself, where the bullet perfectly caught right at the edge of your skewed tac vest, just above your heart
Panic surges up through you suddenly and your vision clouds as you grit your teeth against the pain.
Santi grips your jaw hard, those dark fathomless eyes boring into you, shouting something at you.
But you can’t get enough breath into your lungs to feel like you can respond. “Fuck,” you whisper, touching the blood on your hoodie. One of Santi’s old hoodies, you hadn’t realized until now. “I think I’m hit,” you say as Santi slaps your hand away from the wound.
Blood gushes out of the hole in waves. “Blue, look at me,” Santi says, a sudden pressure on the wound making you bite down a howl. His hands are covered in red. Blood, it must be your blood. “You’re gonna be okay.”
“Okay, Pope,” you whisper, the edge of your vision fading, “Fuck I think it hit my heart.”
You don’t hear his answer, the last thing you know is Santi and Ben leaning over you, dead panic on their faces but you can’t quite figure out why.
~
Carrying you to the truck, your eyes unfocused and glossy, feels a lot like carrying Tom’s corpse home.
Santiago doesn’t scare easy, but cradling your head in his lap while Ben cries his eyes out and snarls at Will to drive faster, scares him.
Frankie’s worried eyes turning back to assess you, scares him.
Will’s stoic silence, scares him.
But nothing comes close to the fear he feels at the prospect of having to carry home your corpse.
And suddenly that money, everything in the world, nothing matters to him but you - and it’ll be his fault if you die now.
He leans down over you, presses a kiss to the shell of your ear. There’s blood caked on your neck, crusting along the edge of your sweatshirt. Your ball cap and protective glasses are on the floor of the truck at his feet, stained a crimson that his brain can’t make sense of.
The graze of the bullet against your thigh was god’s warning to turn back, and he hadn’t heeded it.
Ruthless.
He’s always been ruthless.
And now maybe that ruthlessness really would get you killed.
He can’t really make himself understand it, why you would jump up like that and pull him out of the way.
“Santi,” you murmur, your breath sweet against his skin, your bloody fingers scrubbing against the stubble on his cheek. “Santi,” you whisper against his skin, the copper smell of you making him sick, makes him want to fucking vomit.
“Hold on, cariño,” he says gently. “We’re gonna get you home safe and sound.” But your skin is ashen, your lips chapped already and he knows there isn’t a chance in hell of you making it to the States alive without them addressing the mess that is your shoulder.
“Fuck,” he snarls when your eyes flutter closed again, your body going limp as you pass out. “Benny, grab that med pack. We’re gonna have to sew her up before she loses any more blood. She’s not gonna make it if we don’t.”
Pope rips back the straps of your tac vest, rips your sweatshirt open as Benny goes cool with determination, grounded and levelheaded even as tears slip down his nose. There’s no exit wound and so Benny passes over the supplies Santi needs to dig the bullet out of your shoulder.
He stuffs cloth in your mouth when you lurch and give a blood curdling scream, forceps squelching deep in the wound until he can finally rip the metal out of your shoulder.
He forces you to keep it in your mouth so you don’t break your teeth, bite your fucking tongue off, when they dump peroxide over the wound.
Benny holds you still after he hands Santiago the threaded needle, closes his eyes and takes a breath, before he unsteadily and messily sews your shoulder closed.
By the time he’s done with you, you’re so still he might as well have killed you himself.
Then
“Hey, killer,” Santiago says when you thrust open the front screen door with a toe.
“Hey yourself, old man,” you snipe at him, “Wanna help me out a little?”
Santi finishes wiping his hands on a dishtowel and moves to hold the door open for you.
You’re wearing ratty gym clothes, boxing gloves spilling out of your duffle bag, a couple of grocery bags fisted in your other hand.
Santiago gently takes the groceries from you and dumps them on the kitchen table as you wave out at Benny’s retreating jeep.
Ben obnoxiously lays on the horn all the way down the road, but it makes you laugh and so he doesn’t roll his eyes too hard at it.
“You weren’t here when I got in last night,” Santiago says when you beeline into the kitchen and dump your bag on the floor.
He doesn’t get a chance to say anything else because you kiss him, your palms against his cheeks, the line of your body against his. When you pull away you smirk at him and peer at the breakfast he has started on your stove.
“Don’t you have your own house to go to?”
“My own house isn’t where you are.”
You laugh, bell bright, but he knows you think he’s just fucking with you. “You stay at Ben’s?”
“He lost last night and was pouting about it,” you say, unloading the grocery bags. “Me and Will stayed with him. Re-watched Predator for the millionth time. Knew we’d end up at the gym in the morning together anyways.”
Santi tucks his arms around you and drags you back against his chest, pressing his lips to the nape of your neck and then the shell of your ear. “Left me high and dry here, honey.”
“Oh, I’m sure you managed to entertain yourself, Santi.” You turn your head and bump your forehead against his temple. “You’ve got a hand don’t you?”
He scoffs, “That’s fuckin’ cruel. Expecting pussy and getting a hand.”
You turn in his grip and wind your arms around his neck, smiling and stretching against him like a cat. “Lemme shower and this pussy is all yours, babe.”
“Shower, breakfast, then pussy,” he says. “I know you didn’t eat this morning.”
You roll your eyes, “Hurts my feelings when you ignore me like this Santiago.”
“The last thing in the world I’m doing is ignoring you,” he says, cupping his hands under your ass to lift you onto the counter.
You settle back against the cabinets and he slots himself between your legs, running his hands up your thighs, beneath the fabric of your gym shorts. “You’re so pretty. Have I ever told you that?”
A grin splits your face, one he’s glad to see, one that had taken a year of counseling and fucking and boxing and bar nights to coax back out of you. “Sure,” you say.
“I mean it.”
“I know.”
Santiago licks his lips, takes your hands in his, the dozens of rings that line your fingers grazing his.
It was one of the things you’d started wearing to feel more like yourself again, to recapture your identity outside the military, outside Delta.
He traces the rings carefully for a moment when your voice reaches out to him again, your hand touching his jaw. “Santi?” you ask.
“I brought something back for you,” he says, squeezing your knee gently. “Stay here.”
He looks up and meets your eyes, searching the gaze he knows so well, and still coming back empty, still confused about what it all means to you, what he means to you. “Okay,” you say, “What is it?”
Instead of answering, he ducks out of the kitchen to rifle through his own bag that he left in the front hall the night before.
When he returns to you, you have one heel up on the counter, a cup filled with coffee at your side, picking bits of food out of the pan on the stove.
He knocks your heel down, jolting you, “Feet on the counter? Really?”
“It’s my fucking counter, Garcia,” you snap at him, but you smile when you say it.
“Fucking counter, huh?”
“Shut up.”
“I mean I have fucked you there enough times, haven’t I?” He asks, watching you roll your eyes, tracking your every movement, unable to glance away from you.
You lift that same foot and shove at his shoulder as you sip your coffee. “Fuck off.”
Santi catches your foot, presses a kiss to your ankle and lets it drop again so he can slot himself between your legs again, holding up the ring he has pinched between two fingers in his other hand.
Your eyes lock onto the gold, lips parting. “Found it at a market in Bogotá. Polished it up on the way back. Thought you’d like it for your collection.”
Gingerly, as though the ring is made of smoke and not metal, you reach out to take it from him. “It’s beautiful,” you say, examining the stones embedded in the gold.
Santi takes it back from you, and examines your hands, the many, many rings that stack on your fingers. “Which finger you want it on, mi vida?”
You wiggle your right ring finger and he slips it into place. It's a perfect fit.
He looks up at you, he means to tell you in that moment, that there’s no one else, that there’s only you, that this thing between you is solid and real and he wants no one else, ever. That you’re his and he’s yours.
That you are his girl.
But the words die on his lips as soon as he looks at you, and then you’re sliding off the counter and kissing him so hard, he feels like he might bruise.
“Why don’t you shower with me and we can kill two birds with one stone?” You ask. “I get clean and you get pussy.”
He holds you so tight he feels you exhale a sharp breath, tilting his head over yours, brows pulled together as he watches you, watches the widening of your eyes.
“All for a ring?” he undercuts his own fucking plan, his own feelings.
“It’s a pretty ring.”
Now
They have to leave you in the hotel they check into, to meet with the bank, to deposit their fucking money.
Fifty million and it feels like nothing.
Benny and Will wait with you while he and Fish go to the bank first, and then switch places.
You’re awake when they get back and Santi wants to cry. Fish pretends there’s something he forgot in the lobby and leaves.
Santi pulls up a chair next to you and takes your hand. “What the fuck were you thinking?” He murmurs.
“Was thinking I didn’t want your brains all over me,” you say, weak fingers tightening on his. “You did a shit job stitching me up, by the way. But I think it saved my life.”
Santi says your name quietly, picking up your hand, your skin clammy against his. “Well our combat medic was out.”
He closes his eyes, gritting his jaw, trying to wash away the image of your prone body on two different boats, carrying you with Benny away from the line of fire like you were already gone from the world.
“Why?” He asks again. “Fuck, why would you do that?”
You grip his hand weakly, “Because. Because you - probably the same reason you ran toward me instead of away. Because I knew you were about to die and couldn’t let that happen.”
“And what if you fucking died, huh?”
“Guess I’d be dead then.”
He winces but doesn’t let you look away from him.
You swallow, “Help me sit up? I want some water.”
Santi hurries to help you sit up, listening to the way you groan tightly before he fetches a bottle of water for you and unscrews the cap.
Your hand shakes when you lift the bottle to your lips, and he has to cup the bottom of it to hold it steady for you.
When you’ve drunk your fill, you handle the bottle back and yank down the strap of your sports bra to look at the gauze webbed around your shoulder, the blood that slowly begins to stain through because of your movement.
You sigh and then fiddle with your rings, his ring on your finger, where it's never moved since he placed it there. “Santi,” you murmur. “I know we never said it - but I love you. That’s why it hurt so goddamn bad when you left. It just confirmed that it really never mattered to you. And this - this stupid fucking money - I know how you get. I couldn’t believe - couldn’t believe you just dropped me like that. I told myself you didn’t mean it. That we’re both mean sons of bitches when we’re pissed but then you never came home.”
You take a long stuttering breath, and his heart feels like it's stopped beating, like god has a boot on his chest. “I never woulda done that to you. You left it up to Benny to tell me what the fuck happened. I didn’t just lose you, I lost all of you. You know what that’s like? To have your best friend, who you’ve never been apart from for more than a couple days, just drop you? To have - to have you - for better or worse, the man I fucking love - abandon me?”
Is this what it takes to get him to spill his guts to you?
Having you half dead in his arms, your eyes lined with circles, your skin tone off by several shades, telling him things he already fucking knows?
He cups your cheeks in his palms gently, swipes away the tears that fall. Santiago hasn’t seen you like this in years, since you finally started coming back to yourself.
“Fuck, baby,” he whispers. “Fuck, mi vida, I’m so fucking sorry.”
~
Santi curls his arms around you, shifts you on the bed until he can lie down with you, the pressure off of your injured shoulder as you turn on your side to fit yourself against him.
“I can never take back those things I said to you. But you have to know - I didn’t mean a single word of it. Nothing that happened on that mission was your fault. Not a fucking thing. As soon as things went sideways the first time, the only thing I could think was thank god she’s safe at home.”
He presses a kiss to your forehead and you feel more tears leak down your cheeks. “You are the best shot we have - proved that a couple times over yesterday, I think. You were never just a medic, you know that. You’ve beaten me in hand to hand more than enough times, all the rest of those fuckers too. You’re the best of us, honey. I was just so goddamn scared you’d never forgive me for the things I was about to do - you had it right about Lorea and the money and my motivation.”
You feel the movement of his throat against you, arms tightening by a fraction, before he says, voice hoarse, “And I’ve always loved you. Always. I never knew how to say it. You’ve been my only girl for so fucking long.”
You shove his shoulder gently and feel him stiffen but you only bring his forehead to yours, peering into those eyes that were always so intense, that missed nothing, and read you like a book.
You scrub a hand over his stubbled cheek, the pull of the hair against your hand soothing. “You know I love you, Santiago.”
“I love you,” he answers sincerely. “Sorry it took so goddamn long.”
You pull him down into a kiss, your shoulder aching, a biting pain that lances across your chest. “Me too,” you murmur, gingerly unbuttoning his jeans, careful of the very messy stitches in your shoulder. You hiss through your teeth and Santi stops your hand.
“No, your shoulder-,”
“Yes,” you murmur. “Yes. You just have to be careful with me. You just have to be gentle.” You peer up at him, into those brown eyes that feel so like home to you, like the warmth of a summer forest. You touch the hinge of his jaw, “Just be gentle with me.”
Santi’s eyes clench closed and then he’s nodding and kissing your forehead, all resolve gone. You thought the strings of your heart had been wrapped around his fingers all these years. You never imagined that you held his too.
He pulls away from you to undress, since you won’t be able to do it for him in your state, and you use the opportunity to push your shorts and underwear off with your good arm.
And then he’s back, naked against you, one arm under your neck to support your head, the other curving around your knee to hitch over his hip, pressing so close to you. You feel the ridges of his cock against your pussy, already wet.
“Just like this,” he murmurs to you, never breaking his eyes from yours, his gaze just as steady and intense as it always has been, but now there’s a thread of vulnerability that makes you duck your head to press a kiss over his heart. Your good hand against his cheek, the other carefully skimming along his abdomen, the thick muscle and padding he carries.
You both watch as he slides into you, watch your bodies join slowly, the stretch of him so fucking good and heavy.
Your breath leaves you in a gust and Santi pauses, more gentle with you than he’s ever been. “Fuck. You have to tell me if I’m hurting you. Okay?”
You meet his gaze, rolling your hips against his, “Santi.”
He moves then, meeting the slow thrust of you. “Yeah, baby, tell me what you need.”
Instead of biting something out at him like you usually would, you cup both hands against his cheeks as he tightens his arm around your waist, bringing you that much closer.
Santi leans his forehead against yours, and neither of you shut your eyes. You can’t, you have to know he’s there and real and everything that he’s said the last few minutes is true.
He’d always been better at doing than saying and now is no different - his gaze unwavering, making love to you so softly you feel a tear bead and slip down your nose.
Santiago swipes it away with his thumb as he shifts the arm beneath your neck so he can cup the back of your skull, fingers digging through your hair.
The pleasure in your belly builds slowly, but that almost feels secondary to the other things you’re feeling - like you finally belonged, like you were no longer adrift, like you finally found your home.
You press your hand flat over his sternum and feel the thrumming of his heart against your hand.
“It beats for you,” he says, closing his eyes briefly to press his nose into your hair.
You almost want to laugh, at how corny it is, if you didn’t know for certain that he’s never said anything more sincerely.
Sweat beads along his salt and pepper curls, the smell of him like his cologne and cheap hotel soap and sweat.
You move your hips more frantically, Santiago matching you thrust for push, when you bury your nose in his neck and inhale sharply.
“I’m close,” you murmur. “Please, Santi.”
“Look at me, baby,” he says. “Lemme see those pretty eyes when you come for me.”
You meet his eyes, trace the long sweep of his lashes with your gaze when the pressure in your belly snaps and you cry out.
Santiago captures your lips, swallowing down your moan, as he presses a hand to the back of your neck, fingers slowly sliding down your spine. His thrusts become sloppy and slow and his brow is furrowed.
When you whisper, “Come for me, Santi,” he exhales sharply into your mouth and comes inside you, hips slowly stuttering to a stop. “I love you.”
“Fuck,” he says. “Fuck, if I don’t love you more than I deserve to.” He tugs you close, careful of your shoulder which aches more than you’re willing to admit in that moment.
But you’ve been shot before, and it's not as bad as it could be.
“Yeah,” you coo. “But I want it anyway. I want all your fucked up love.”
Santi laughs and it sounds like a sob, and you curl your fingers through his hair tugging lightly. “I meant to - the day I gave you the ring. I meant to clarify that day that we - ,”
“Mhm,” you hum against him. “Is that what this ring means? You claimed me?”
“Means we belong to each other.”
You nod, “Move in when we get back.”
“I’m gonna put in a pool in your backyard, that deck is begging for one. Gotta have somewhere to keep the boys entertained when I need to fuck you.”
You laugh and then wince at the movement in your shoulder. “Backyard is all yours.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
Just then someone knocks at the door. “We have the contract for you to sign if you’re done fucking,” Frankie calls, loud enough that the whole hall probably hears.
You groan but Santi just keeps gazing at you, lips pouted, “And a dog. We gotta get a dog. And a new couch, I’m done sitting on Ben’s cheeto dust.”
“Anything. As long as you’re there.”
His breath catches and he looks like he can’t quite breathe. “Yeah,” he murmurs, lips ghosting over yours. “As long as you’re there.”
Your heart beats so hard, you think it's trying to break free from your chest to join with his.
#santiago garcia x reader#santiago garcia x you#santiago garcia#santiago pope garcia#santiago pope garcia x reader#santiago pope garcia x you#triple frontier#triple frontier x reader#triple frontier fanfiction#triple frontier fic#oscar isaac
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Stranger || Vernon
Vernon x f!reader
Genre:fluff, nonidol!vernon, smau
Summary: you come home from a vacation to a random stranger in your bed, or maybe he isn't so much of a stranger after all...
Warnings: swearing (mostly f!reader lol sos), a lil but of angst & mental health mentions, hella serious anger issues(f! reader), mentions of sexual activity, very much kissing, mentions of food/pics of food:) TALK ABOUT CAR CRASH‼️
A/N: HEY sorry I’ve been gone all week I’m back at school and it’s exam time especially next week so I might be even more inactive (only since I wanna do good on these exams for the bigger ones) but I’ll try myself best. But I’ve always been away this week bc I’ve had no motivation at all and it’s been pretty tuff for me in general. But I hope I can do better in the future. So please forgive me for the long wait for part 4🙏🏼😰 anyways hope you enjoy❤️
Vernon makes his way to your bedroom, he wants to ask about your knee and what happened, but he feels like it may be a sensitive topic to you. So, he just asks if you needed anything else be he heads out. “No I’m okay, thank you though, it means a lot.” You reply. He nods and you get suspicious that he wants to ask you something else.
He slightly glances to your knee and now you know he’s wanting to ask what happened. “I was in an accident.” You say. Vernons head jerks up and he mutters out a single, “Oh.” It was unexpected, he didn’t know, “I’m sorry, you don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want.” He’s genuine, that’s what you like the most about him. He’s honest and kind and somehow doesn’t make small things into bigger things.
“No it’s okay, I can talk about it. I ended up tearing my ACL severely. I almost lost my ability to walk, I try my best to be as careful and even though I’ve been cleared for weeks now, I dont it just stresses me out. I hit my knee and I immediately think of the worst thing possible.” You let out a small chuckle at the end.
“It happened in the states, I was staying with my mom for a little. For about three weeks, then me and my brother got into an accident after I picked him up from the gym. My mom didn’t want me to come back to Korea until I was cleared. That’s why I was gone for so long and the only people know is Mingyu and Minghao and well, now you.”
“Oh,” it’s the only thing Vernon seems to let out, he’s shocked and doesn’t know what to say. “Are you okay?” He asks, you simply nod and say, “Yes, no one was killed. My brother did experience a little bit of brain damage but he’s okay now. And so am I so please don’t worry about me. I had enough of that when it came to Mingyu and Hao.” You laugh.
“Well aslong as you’re okay, then so am I. I’m glad no deaths happened. I’m glad you’re okay, and your brother I don’t know.” You nudge he shoulder softly.
“Mingyu was right about you being a big softy on the inside.” You joke, Vernon’s raises and eyebrow, “Mingyu said that? What else did he say about me?”
“Nothing bad, just a few things he thought I’d need to know before I do something stupid like kicking you out.” You shrug your shoulders. Vernon nods, “Well, I need to get going to I’ll see you later.”
“Okay, I’ll make something when you get back.” You smile at him, he returns the smile and you both bid goodbyes and he leaves.
Once Vernon leaves, you find yourself letting out a big sigh you did notice you were keeping in. At least he now knows what happened to you. You did feel like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders when you told him what happened. Even thought you and your brother are okay, it’s still a sensitive topic. You couldn’t drive for almost 4 months because you was scared. Therapy helped you over coke that though.
“Right,” you say to yourself, “Time for the gym.”
AN: I actually like this one😭🙏🏼
Tags: @dkswife @writingbarnes
(Lmk if you wanna be tagged👊🏻)
#seventeen#chwe hansol#svt#vernon#svtsource#hansol vernon chwe#vernon svt#vernon fic#vernon x reader#vernon fluff#vernon angst#vernon x you#vernon smau#seventeen smau#seventeen fluff#seventeen x y/n#seventeen fanfic#seventeen x reader#kim mingyu#xu minghao
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Only Friends Character Rankings Episode 8
Well this was a whole-ass SITUATION. I'm still processing, but another outstanding ep. The twin scents of audacity and desperation hung over this episode. Sand tries and fails to have any kind of backbone with Ray. Boston sits in purgatory and decides nope, hell it is. Cheum learns more valuable lessons about perhaps minding her own business. Nick might be moving on to Zaddy!Papang. Mew spirals. Yo and Plug break up. And Top...maybe set Ray up to get arrested so he could look like a hero? Everybody had the goddamn audacity this episode. Y'all went up for Mew's crazy eyes last week, let's see where the gworls are landing for me this week.
⭐1. Atom
People with self-confidence like you are very charming to me.
OH SIR! Talk about coming in hot! Atom's in an experimental mood and looking for somebody to blow his back out, so of course he thinks of Boston, and he's putting out whatever sauce he can muster to entice him. I gotta say, this is a wrinkle I ABSOLUTELY did not see coming but the mess is MESSING and I'm fully on board. Cheum is gonna LOSE IT.
🔺2. Boston (3)
Alright. I’m a social leper.
Well he didn't do a lot this week but boy did he make it count: his bitchface at Nick, who it seems he might have really started to care about; poking at Top's soft spots; telling Cheum maybe she should mind her own business; and just talkin' gay shit with Atom who is VERY into gay shit right now it would seem...every second Boston was onscreen was a second of perfection. ESPECIALLY the second when he decides to make yet another terrible decision and take Atom home and maybe give him what he's been sniffing around asking for. I mean, has learned not ONE goddamn thing and I LOVE that about him.
🔻3. Mew (2)
You take no space in my mind at all.
I haven't seen a classic post-breakup slut spiral this well executed in FOREVER. When Mew did the line of coke I gasped, and when he shoved his tongue down Ray's throat right in Top's face I SCREAMED. Oh honey, you're SUCH a cliché and I love you for it. Mew does not feel an ounce of anything resembling love or attraction for Ray, and he knows it, and he also knows the thought of him and Ray will keep Top up at night, so cigs, booze, yeyo and tonsil hockey it is.
⭐4. Daddy Dan
If you have a friend who likes old people, introduce us.
Papang has arrived, and he's playing the kind of guy who asks college students he's hiring to hook him up with their friends so...that's all present and correct. They love to cast Papang as charming but also slightly seedy and creepy and I'm very into it. Also, in my country there is a strip club/brothel called Dad's Dan so I cackled for a solid 5 minutes at the previews.
⭐5. Freddie Mercury The Second
I want no business with someone else’s boyfriend.
The only person this episode to exhibit even an ounce of self-respect. I salute you sir.
🔻6. Nick (4)
What should I do to earn your forgiveness?
Nick's licking his wounds and trying to get back in the game with Boston, but Nick having never met a boundary he couldn't trample has pretty much sealed that deal for now. As Sand pointed out to him: what was he even doing at that party, other than making a fool of himself?
🔻7. Top (6)
Are you really picking Ray?
Ok so Top's the one who called the cops right? Because they knew exactly who and what they were looking for, and his #1 priority was getting Mew out of Ray's orbit and back into his. Top's beggin' tour wasn't working on anybody except Cheum (who...girl. GIRL!), but he still managed to end the night in bed with Mew, so I guess he'll count that as a win?
🔹8. Cheum (8)
They're all selfish. They don't care about me.
GIRL. Your girlfriend keeps telling you to LEAVE THESE BOYS ALONE AND MIND YOUR OWN BUSINESS. Now you crying on the couch and don't nobody care except your girlfriend, WHO TOLD YOU. All them boys one by one just telling her to get out of their faces...GIRL YOU ARE A LESBIAN YOU ARE ABOVE BOYS MAKING YOU CRY.
🔻9. April (7)
I know you’re worried about Mew. But he’s a grown man. He can take care of his life.
Girl aren't you tired? That woman don't never listen to you and now instead of having a good time you're feeling her snot seep into your chest through your (slay) outfit and thinking about how you're not getting any sex tonight either. SHE DOESN'T EVEN APPRECIATE YOUR ART.
🔻10. Plug/Yo (5)
There were many people I gave all my heart to. I gave them everything I got. There were many people I gave my room key to. They all returned it to me in the end. I don't want you to raise my expectations. And then you leave me too.
Oof, poor baby Plug. He just wants to live that househusband life but Yo been THRU it and ain't interested in going thru it again. I was surprisingly affected by Mom breaking up with Cool Stepdad, given how little screentime they've had, but Jennie's just that good.
🔻11. Sand (5)
Friends? You and I have never been friends from the get-go.
What more can I say about this loser? He's so embarrassing I can hardly look at him. Ray does not give a good goddamn about him, he uses him as a plaything, a servant or a punching bag as it suits him, and instead of throwing rocks at his ass and telling him to GTFO, he FIGHTS THE DAMN COPS who are trying to take him away. It's almost fascinating, watching this bullshit: every time I think this is surely Sand's rock bottom, he goes lower. We've got 4 episodes left but I'm calling it now: Sand is the most pathetic character on this show.
🔻12. Ray (1)
Let's hire a DJ instead this time. I don't want a band anymore.
OH MY GOD FLAMES ON THE SIDE OF MY FACE. Does Thailand do 5150s? Because Ray needs to be committed as a danger to himself and others. He got everything he wanted and IT'S NOT ENOUGH, just as we all (I hope) knew it wouldn't be. And then on top of that Mew refuses his kiss in private but lays one on him in Top's face and it's like he just lost it. That ugly scene, breaking up Sand's encounter with Freddie II (shades of him doing the same with Sand's date earlier in the season), claiming ownership of him (told y'all) forcing a kiss on him because Sand's his property right? Ray was downright nasty this week, and not in an enjoyable way.
#only friends the series#bless this mess#only friends weekly character rankings#i support gay wrongs#only friends#only friends series#bl meta series
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Mayans Is Over 😭 -No Spoilers
I just watched season 5 episode 10. Mayans is over. I’m not sharing anything about the episode or even the season in this post. I have lots of feelings about it though, some good & yes, some bad. But, regardless Mayans is my favorite show. Of all time, and of course Sons of Anarchy is right there with it. I’m so sad that it’s over. So sad. But I don’t feel the same way I did when Sons ended. And that’s because of all of the amazing writers here on Tumblr keeping these characters alive! Of course the stories are all so different than the show, and honestly, I am really grateful for that. These characters will live on because of your writings. So thank you. (I know I will forget people & forgive me) but here’s a hug & love to just a few of my fellow Mayan lovers!
@jvalentinesworld-cokes-hyna @darklydeliciousdesires @darqchilddaydreamz @withmyteeth @drabbles-mc @spaghettificationandpretzels @thegirlwhowritesfics @bullet-prooflove @garbinge @the-hinky-panda
#mayans#mayans mc#bishop losa#angel reyes#manny mayans#ez reyes#johnny coco cruz#creeper vargas#nestor oceteva#hank loza#guero mayans#gilly lopez#riz ariza#bottles mayans
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King of Your Heart
Chapter 9 "The King"
summary: All that Frankie has ever wanted to be was your everything. After years of being best friends one phone call changes everything between the two of you.
inspired by The King by Sarah Kinsley
warnings: 18+, MINORS DNI, age gap (reader is 28-29, Frankie 38-39), friends with benefits -> situationship, Frankie isn't a dad, jealously, best friends with benefits, reader is toxic, reader wears makeup, reader has long hair, self-hate (both characters), mention of drug usage (coke), drinking, benny's house party, princess and fish love to argue, light smut, angst, oh yeah and a lot of angst, no y/n, pet names, possessiveness, triple frontier boys, Tom is dead, reader is a flirt
inside the world of king of your heart
playlist
series mainlist | main masterlist
taglist: @hiroikegawa
Are you a new person if you still self-sabotage?
Now you have fucked up royally with Frankie, he continues to just look at you. Frankie hated feeling any kind of resentment towards you. He knows that this is you coping poorly with the absence of your friendship.
"Frankie, I'm sorry...it was an impulse, kinda needed it to even kiss the guy-" You rambled and saw the disappointment on Frankie's face.
"You know what, fish?"
"Don't say anything-"
"This wouldn't have happened if you-"
"Shut it! Shut it-"
"If you just didn't hold my past against me." You don't know if it was the alcohol or the cocaine talking but the words came out slurred and almost like vomit. You sloppily poked at Frankie's chest, you shoved him and he didn't even budge, you shove again. Frankie cuffs your wrists in his hands and pins your arms at your sides.
"Think about what you just fucking did! THINK!" Frankie shouts, people turn to look at you swaying slightly and Frankie bows his head. You started laughing, just thinking about cucking Frankie and he is a now cuck. It was fucked up. Frankie had to take a moment to remind himself that you were high off of coke and plastered with alcohol.
"I'm just a bad person. I fucking get it Catfish! I GET IT! I FUCKING GET IT!" You shouted not caring about other people staring and wondering what was going on. You wanted people to look and see two people who are in love with each other show passion and fight for them. All you wanted was to speed through time and get to the moment where Frankie does everything right and you forgive each other.
Frankie still has you in his grasp, feeling your skin on his and the way you were so warm but still cold to the touch. Your body is true to your inner self, being so hot and cold. Frankie can't tell if he's burning from your fire or the ice in your blood.
"That's it we're going home." Frankie bites back a growl when he speaks to you, pulling you along. You smirked at how Frankie looked too good for being angry. You passed by the maid of honor and her jaw fell slacked when you bit your lip and slid right into Frankie, clinging onto him.
"Jesus, Princess," Frankie followed your eyeline and saw the maid of honor was about to cry. Now he has another mess to clean up before the night ends. Frankie pushed through people still guiding you with your arms wrapped around his shoulders. You tripped over your feet and Frankie rolled his eyes, bending down and carrying you bridal style to his truck.
"N-no I'm driving my car home," Your hand couldn't grab the handle.
"Really with what keys?" Frankie grabs your purse and throws it in the bushes aligned with the driveway, you gasp and then swing open the door, running around the truck to the bushes.
"Get in the truck, we will get the car in the morning," Frankie comes up behind you and wraps his arms around your waist hoisting you to the truck and setting you on the seat. He retrieves your purse and helps you scoot along the bench so he can drive.
"She's not even hot," you break the silence and face your knees away from Frankie.
"Who are you talking about?"
"That maid of honor who sitting pretty on your lap," You look at Frankie, his jaw is clenched and his muscles twitching. He shakes his head and doesn't say anything.
"You could do better, that's all I'm saying,"
"She has a name."
"Oh she has a name, that's cool I don't care." You bite
"Vanessa," Frankie mutters her name. You snapped your head toward him and couldn't believe he continued on.
"and she is-was my date to Will's wedding..." Frankie puts the truck in park, you nod and just let it be.
Let it be that Frankie is not yours anymore.
You two are just friends. If that. Frankie clears his throat and helps you into your apartment. The cardboard box with 'Fuck Frankie' written across it sits by the trashcan. To Frankie, you are ready to move on, and guess he is too since he went on a date with Vanessa about a month ago just to get laid but it turned out to be a casual thing.
Another thing to take care of besides the young woman who is coked out and drunk and who is still his best friend. Frankie helps you to your bed, sits you on the edge while he collects some clothes for you to sleep in, and gets the shower running.
"Arms up," Frankie taps his shoulders, you look up at him and just feel confusion hit like a tidal wave. You shake your head, it would be just wrong to have him continue to take care of you. It's your turn to take care of yourself. Wrong for him to be kind to you when you crossed the line.
"You can leave. I can take care of myself," You stand up too fast and fall back on the bed, Frankie frantically tries to stop you from falling, and you end up pulling Frankie with you. He catches himself and hovers above you.
Your eyes were bloodshot and tears still escaping from your big eyes that tugged at his heartstrings. Frankie looks at your lips stained from the cranberry juice, and how your face was so flushed it was coming through your makeup. He can't leave you even if someone put thousands of miles between you, he will always end up going home to you.
"Don't kiss me," You whispered, registering the look in Frankie's eyes. He swallowed hard and resisted from crashing his lips on your soft plump lips that would taste tart from the vodka and cranberry with a hint of some candy flavor from your lip gloss. Your protest makes him want to do it even more.
To feel you one last time.
One last time.
Your hand cups his face and traces his features, this is how it's supposed to be. Coming home from a party with each other. The smell of weed and alcohol mixed with your perfume and Frankie's cologne. To be excited for Will's wedding, be each other's dates. To be together forever. Frankie fluttered his eyes shut when your delicate fingers came in contact with his face.
You were now back down to earth and whatever buzz you had was completely gone. Maybe you can have him one last time.
Frankie leans down and captures your lips with his, the scruff of his beard rubs against the soft skin of your face. Teeth clashing together when the hunger for one another comes out when he tastes you and you taste him.
Frankie quickly slides the straps of your dress down your arms and bunches the fabric around your waist, the rough texture of his jacket clutches your hands, pushing it off his back and then making work of getting his shirt off. Breaking this kiss for a second, before your fingers slide underneath his cap and push it off his head, a light thud hits the floor.
Frankie helps you up and you both rid of the rest of your clothes. The bathroom was filled with steam, the hot water hit your skin when Frankie manhandled you against the wall right under the water. You stare at him, wondering what's going through his mind while he burns holes into your skin.
You take his hands off your body and start to wash your hair with him there just watching every move. Frankie is debating on doing the healthy thing to just leave and not speak to you ever again or indulging in the unhealthy and just be whatever with you. Not necessarily dating but just back to be the other half.
You looked so sweet when you closed your eyes letting the water cascade down your head and running down the curve of your breasts and stomach. Always so beautiful even though you are just devil in disguise.
You opened your eyes and looked at the subtle disappointment on Frankie's face and remembered the same look on the other guys' faces.
"It's okay that you hate me right now-"
"That's what the problem is. I can't ever hate you, princess." Frankie whimpers pulling you to his chest and resting your head in the crook of his neck. He can't ever hate you, your angelic looks and your sinful eyes pulling him and keeping him wrapped in your finger. Frankie gives you control and god, the extent you will go to get him to see that you love him.
He is masochist for letting you toy with his feelings. He doesn't know if you want to take a baseball to his truck or give him the sweetest kiss on the bald patch in his beard and whisper in his ear about how much you love him.
"Frankie, why?" You wondered he shouldn't be here. He should be at the party with everyone and Vanessa. And you should be in Daniel's bed and then taking off when you put back on your clothes.
"Princess you rule over everything. When we were drunk that one night back when we started to become friends and you wanted to dance in the rain, I didn't think about anything else than twirling you around. I did it because I knew right then I could never love again after you. That's why. You are the king." Frankie is now submitting to you. He will push aside the past just to have you. As you are.
You shake your head. He can't do this to himself. It's self sabotage for him. As his best friend you have to hold on to what is best for Frankie. You are not the best for him. But Frankie is sick of the healthy option. He wants to rot away with you.
#frankie morales#frankie morales x you#frankie morales x reader#frankie morales fluff#triple frontier#triple frontier fic#frankie morales smut#frankie morales x f!reader#pedro pascal
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Could we get one fic about Frankie and reader after their divorce? Maybe they divorced because of the mission and his coke addiction and lot of broken promises. But they still share kid. And they still love each other. What if he gets better and they secretly starts to date again? Maybe their daughter get mad at mama for starting dating because she want their parents to be together again and she do not know they are dating each other. Maybe little hurt and comfort?
Second Chances - Oneshot
Masterlist
Pairings: Frankie Morales x Reader
Warnings: Like AO3, I choose not to list any warnings. (I looooove this request. Sorry it took me so long to write it ♥️ I had it half written out but then I just got busy... Hope it was worth the wait)
You shouldn’t have been surprised after two years of being divorced that he’d finally jump back on the wagon. He was handsome, kind, an amazing father and everything a woman should ever want in a man. It had been a mutual decision to get divorced but it hadn’t hurt any less. You’d maintained a relationship with him for your then, one-year-old daughter, but the truth of it was… you’d never stopped loving him.
South America was what had killed your marriage. You’d begged and pleaded with him not to go but he’d sworn that this job would change your lives for the better.
Instead, he’d come back empty-handed and down a friend. You’d tried to forgive him but the hurt had just been too great this time. You had understood the drugs to a certain degree. They’d helped him cope with his demons but when Mia had been born, you’d told him it was the drugs or his family.
He quit cold Turkey.
Unfortunately, however, his supplier hadn’t taken well to that and had planted drugs on his bird. This led to his suspension from flying. Two weeks after he’d come back, they’d cleared him and you’d been the first person he’d called but it had ended up such an awkward conversation. That excitement had been extinguished the moment he’d chosen to leave.
Two years on, things had improved. You were able to spend time together without it feeling forced or awkward. You took it in turn to have Mia each week. He’d found an apartment not far from the house so she was able to see him regularly. It all was surprisingly easygoing but the news you’d received when picking your daughter up that afternoon just threw a spanner into the works.
“A date.” You managed to squeak, inwardly scorning yourself for your reaction.
“Yeah. Uh… Well, she’s a friend of Will’s. He met her through his fiancé. Said she’s nice.” He replied nervously as he rubbed the back of his neck “Worth meeting her, right?”
“I guess.” You replied with a shrug and his brows drew together.
“You guess?” He asked, “Are you okay with it?”
“I have no right not to be.” You answered and he sighed “I guess I just never thought you’d move on so quickly.” You finished, shrugging your shoulders lightly.
“So quickly?” He scoffed “I’ve waited 2 years, hoping we’d find our way back to each other but I’m done waiting. I don’t want to be alone anymore.”
“Frankie I-“
“Look, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that but I do still care about you and if me going on a date upsets you then I won’t go.” He said simply and you felt your stomach twist.
“No, you go.” You said, trying your hardest to keep your voice level “You deserve to be happy.”
He nodded then handed you Mia’s bag as he called out for your daughter. When she barrelled into your legs, you told her to say your goodbyes, that spoke your own and left.
Sobbing silently to yourself the whole way home.
~
A knock on your door tore you from your show. Glancing at the clock, you scrunched your face in confusion at the time.
Who could that possibly be?
Your question was quickly answered when you opened the door to reveal a nervous Frankie and your stomach dropped.
“What’s wrong?” You asked, noting how upset he seemed “I thought you had your date tonight?“
“I did.” He replied, eyes wet and bloodshot.
“So?”
“So it went great. Amazingly even but when we got back to hers and things started to happen-“
“I don’t need to hear this Frank.”
“I suddenly couldn’t stop thinking about you.” He said, choking on a sob as he let out a stuttered breath.
“Whatever helps you, Frank.”
“What do you want from me?” He sobbed “I tell you I’ve got a date and you get weird with me. Then I go on it, and I’m so hung up on how you reacted that I can’t get it up. I left there feeling fucking foolish because I’m holding out hope that my ex-wife still loves me.”
“What?” You asked, stepping back in shock “What are you trying to say?”
“That I don’t wanna do this again.” He sobbed and your face dropped
“Oh.”
“I mean dating. Getting to know someone new and learning about what they like and don’t like.” He stated “I want to come home to my family. To come home to you smiling up at me as you grade papers whilst Mia plays dress-up.” He paused, scraping a hand over his face to rid himself of his tears “I want stability and familiarity. I don’t want to start from scratch.”
You stepped closer to him. Taking his shaky hand in yours and placing a soft kiss on his knuckles. Then, you looked up and into those dark brown eyes that had captured your heart all those years ago. The air crackled between you as you breathed him in and then, he closed the distance.
The kiss felt like him.
It was soft and sweet, yet passionate and loving. It made your toes curl and your spine tingle, then when you finally parted… you smiled.
“I don’t want that either.”
“Okay.” He said with a small nod before placing a soft peck on your lips “So what now?”
“What about dinner?” You suggested and he grinned at you.
“Sounds good.”
~
Three months on and things were going strong. You’d been on several dates but had opted not to tell your daughter for now. She’d been begging you for a while to ‘love Papi again’ and so you didn’t want to get her hopes up in case it didn’t work out.
“I don't wan' you go, mumma.” Mia screamed as she stomped her foot in true toddler fashion.
“I won’t be late, sweetheart.” You promised as you knelt to kiss her furrowed brow.
“Why does Unky Ben have me… why not Papi.” She sobbed and your heart twisted a little as you lied to her.
“Because Papi’s got to work late tonight sweetheart.”
“I want Papi.” She shrieked and you looked up at Ben who was watching the scene with amusement.
Not even they knew that you were actually going on a date with Frankie. You’d decided to keep it a secret from everyone until you felt that the time was right but it was getting harder to lie now.
How many more times could you get the Miller’s to sit before they cottoned on?
“Getting serious with this chap then.” He said when you finally got your toddler to stop screaming.
“I hope so.” You said shyly, eyes drifting to Mia who’s opted to play Helicopters.
“She still bugging you to get back with Fish?” He asked and you nodded.
“I get it. Who doesn’t want their parents to get back together? But it's just so messy and complicated.” You said with a sigh.
“Hey, I get it.” Ben said, holding his hands up ‘Come from a broken home, remember?”
“I’d hardly say ours is broken.”
“Well, it ain’t whole.” Ben interjected and you sighed.
“I guess not.” You replied sadly.
“Bye, sweetie.” You called out, wincing at the look you received in return.
“You not going to say bye to mummy Mia?” Ben asked as he stepped towards the toddler.
“Nope… mummy replace Papi.” She grumbled, “I hate her.”
That final statement broke you and you sprinted out into the evening air, desperate to keep yourself together long enough that your daughter didn’t see you cry.
You'd walked quickly to where Frankie said he'd pick you up from and you were relieved to see his truck sat waiting. You'd more or less managed to pull yourself together by the time you clambered into his truck but there are no hiding things from Francisco. He could read you like an open book.
"What's wrong?" He asked as his brow pulled together to form a concerned frown.
"Just had our three-year-old toddler tell Ben she hates me because I'm replacing her father." You sobbed "I'm not sure how much longer I can do this."
"You want to break up?" He asked suddenly and your head whipped up to look him in the eye.
"What? NO!" You yelped, shocked he'd jump. to that conclusion. "I just mean that I'm not sure how much longer I can keep us a secret from her."
"Then we fess up." He stated simply "Ben and Will have their annual grill off this weekend. Why don't we tell everyone then?"
"You sure?" You asked, biting your thumbnail nervously as you looked up at him through your lashes.
"Baby, I have no intention of fucking this up a second time." He replied with nothing be sincerity in his features "I'm so happy that we've found our way back to each other and I'm gonna do whatever it takes to make this last."
"I'm glad to Frank." You replied, smiling sweetly at him as he leaned in to kiss you "Now can we eat, I'm starving." You finished after he pecked your lips affectionately and he nodded, giving you his signature wink before pulling away.
~
Grill day...
Mia loved to visit her Uncles Will and Ben. Mainly because, like her father, she loved to swim and spent as much time as she could in their pool. You were nervous about today, however. Today was the day that you were going to come clean to the group that you and Frankie had gotten back together. But it was also the weekend that some other truths would come out.
There were two major secrets you'd been keeping. You just hoped they'd be well received.
Frankie arrived a little after you and he grinned when his daughter clambered out of the pool and sprinted over to him. Leaving a toddler-shaped wet patch on his burgundy button-up. You and he shared a look and brief hellos before he made his way over to Ben and Will who were already arguing over who would win the grill off.
It had started as a joke but each year they had you all gather at theirs and judge who was better on the grill. So far Will had one every time.
Soon the smells that filled the air made everyone's stomachs start to grumble. Frank of course joined Mia in the pool, tossing her when she asked or playing splash. You watched from afar, your heart swelling at the sight of your husband and your daughter together.
Husband... Did I say, Husband?
"Foods up." Called Will and everyone gathered around the table that you'd carefully laid out. Mia sat on Ben's lap whilst everyone ate, telling him all about her new friend at school and how she'd given her a new Moana scrunch that was now her absolute favourite.
You were sat beside Frank, watching your daughter talk her favourite uncles eat off as he nodded along to everything she so energetically told him. A hand grabbing your knee pulled your attention to the man beside you and you glanced at him a moment, smiling sweetly at him as you grabbed it and gave it a squeeze.
"So how's it going with that guy you've been seeing?" Asked Will, smirking at the irritated huff that escaped your daughter.
"Good yead... Getting pretty serious." You replied, trying your hardest not to smirk.
"What about you Catfish?" Ben asked as he wiped the BBQ moustache off of Mia "You been seeing anyone?"
"Yeah actually." He replied casually.
"Not you too Papi." Mia squealed, her eyes growing wide.
"And you guys are okay with this?" Will asked, motioning between the two of you.
"More than okay." You said sweetly before you looked at Frank with a smile, leaning in and placing a soft kiss on his lips.
Mia's dramatic gasp rendered you all speechless.
"Mumma... U smooch Papi." She screeched and you nodded before looking between Ben and Will who were equally gobsmacked.
"You two?" Will asked.
"Yup."
"Back together." Pushed Ben.
"Affirmative."
"Like... Together together."
"Yes, Ben." Frankie replied, smirking at his friends' obvious confusion.
"Mummy love Papi again?" Asked Mia and you smiled sweetly at your toddler as you nodded.
"Mummy never stopped sweetheart." You replied, smiling when Frank's arm snaked around your shoulders to pull you close.
"Shi-sheesh Guys, this is amazing," Ben stated in disbelief.
"Thanks, Ben." You replied happily "And nice save."
"Ta."
"I actually have more news." You stated, pulling away from Frankie so you could look him in the eye before down at your hands "I uh... Well, I have a confession to make."
"Confession?" Frank asked, his expression morphing into one of confusion and mild panic.
"I uh... Well, I never actually um..." You struggled to find the words, your heart in your throat as you glanced at everyone.
"Never actually what?" Will pushed and you sighed.
"I never actually sent the papers off."
"Papers?"
"Our divorce papers." You said finally and everyone's expressions changed "We're um... Well, we're still married, Frank."
"We are?" He asked, his expression impossible to read.
"Yeah... I uh... Well, I went to do it but then when it came to it I couldn't." You said, your nervousness plain to see "I guess I too was holding out hope we'd work all this out."
"Huh." Frank hummed and you started to panic then.
"Shit... Crap... Sorry... Mia don't repeat those words." You said, turning to look at your daughter a moment before returning your attention to Frankie "I'm so sorry Frank I just-"
His lips on yours silenced you then and you practically sobbed in relief when he pulled away and smiled at you.
"Nothing to be sorry for." He said, grinning from ear to ear "This is the best news I've received in a long time."
"Well, hold that thought." You said, grabbing your bag and pulling out a small nondescript box.
Handing it to him, you watched nervously as he opened it, pulling out the envelope at the top to reveal what sat underneath it. His eyes grew wide as he stared at him before his head shot up to look at you.
"Really?" He asked and you nodded.
"Surprise." You said, waving your hands by your head as you smiled nervously at him.
He opened the envelope next and his hand flew to his mouth as he looked at its contents. Tears slipped down his cheeks as he looked at you again before pulling you into a biting kiss that soothed your frayed nerves.
"What the duck is going on?" Ben yelled.
"Bad word!" Mia scorned.
"I said, duck."
"I'm pregnant." You replied, smirking at Ben and your daughter before Frankie placed when you'd given him on the table for everyone to see.
A Clearblue test the stated pregnant on the digital screen and the scan pictures from the scan you'd gone to the day before. You'd been so caught up in everything with Frankie that you'd not realised that you'd missed a whole two periods. So, after taking the tests, you'd asked your nurse friend nicely to do you a solid and she'd gotten you in for a test the following day.
"What that?" Mia asked as she pointed at the pictures on the table.
"That's your new baby brother or sister." Will said as he bopped her nose.
"Oooooh." She replied, wiggling in her uncle's lap "Thank you. I wan' sister pwease."
"We don't get a choice on what it is bebita." Said Frankie as he chuckled at his daughter's request.
"At least try mummy." She pleaded, looking at you with her soulful brown eyes "Pwease."
"I'll do my best sweetheart." You said cuddled into Frank, smiling when he placed his hand over where your new baby resided "I promise."
Tags: @hayley-the-comet @ajeff855 @mavericksicybabe @supernaturalgirl20 @dihra-vesa @nicolethered @practicalghost @theanothersherlockian @gallowsjoker @little-mrs-morales @sunnshineeexoxo @aliwritesfic @maryfanson @sherala007 @ayrusss @greeneyedblondie44 @elegantduckturtle @jediknight122 @goodgriefitsawildworld @voteforpedro09 @vanered15 @prostitute-robot-from-the-future @mishasminion360 @snacswell @giggly-otter @athalien @mssbridgerton @huitzilinthebudgie3 @samanthacookieone @salome-c @radcollectivesoul @pedrohoe04 @thekohakuriver1 @paintlavillered @ktmadden86 @hotchlover @kirsteng42 @djjarins @balekanemohafe @misscampacyn @dreamalittlebiggerdarling @pedromandoverse @destiny-tsukino @mysun-n-stars @tombraider42017 @littlemisspascal @thatpinkshirt @bison-writes @evyiione @girlofchaos @vanemando15
#frankie morales x reader#frankie morales x you#frankie ‘catfish’ morales#frankie morales fanfiction#frankie morales triple frontier#francisco morales triple frontier#francisco morales x you#francisco morales fanfiction#francisco morales#francisco morales x reader#triple frontier x you#triple frontier x reader#triple frontier fanfiction#triple frontier#pedro pascal character fanfiction#pedro pascal fanfiction#pedro pascal characters#pedro pascal
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fuck it, snippet from future fic in the stick season au verse, after byler fighting and calling a tentative truce
Mike follows him into the kitchen, pausing to look around with interest. “So, you cook a lot, huh?” he asks, wincing immediately afterwards like he regrets the question.
“Hm, when I can find the time. Or when friends drop by unannounced on my day off and demand breakfast.” He sees Mike wince again at the pointed jab and forces his tone to soften. “I’m joking, Mike. I’m grouchy first thing in the morning.”
As he sets about pulling cartons and jugs from his fridge, Will swears he hears a quiet “I remember” somewhere behind him. He bites back a reluctantly fond smile and turns to set his loot out on the island. At Mike’s obvious confusion, he gestures to the plastic cup in Mike’s hand. “I’ve got orange, apple, and grape,” he lists off, “or, if you don’t want juice, I have some Coke, or I have my Brita filter. If you’d prefer something hot, I could make tea or coffee-”
“Will.” Mike is giving him an entirely new look now, something less confused and more fond. “It’s okay. I’m okay with whatever.”
Will frowns. “It’s not okay, Mike, I’m just-” he sighs. “I’ve been sober now for so long that I forget it’s different for other addicts, being around friends who still drink. It doesn’t tempt me anymore, so it’s habit to just supply alcohol for everyone-”
“I get it, okay? Well, mostly. I’m not mad at you, Will. I’m not upset.”
Damn him. Damn him. The familiar burn of threatening tears builds behind Will’s eyes, burns at his throat. It isn’t fair. Mike’s been gone for a decade, left him behind for so long - then he waltzes back into Will’s life, and within a week he’s reading Will just as easily as he always did, digging right down to the heart of him.
He casts his gaze downwards to cover the emotion he knows always bleeds through too easily and clears his throat. “I was going to make myself some coffee and make Max tea,” he says, avoiding the questioning tilt to Mike’s head.
“Tea sounds good - unless it’s chamomile.”
“No, no chamomile. Not baby-safe. I have…” Will crosses to the cabinet above his Keurig and eyes the selection. “Peppermint, ginger, green, oolong, chai, earl grey.” He squints. “Some orange-spiced shit El bought and never drank.”
Mike hums. “The orange sounds good.”
Will twists to stare over his shoulder. “Seriously?”
He shrugs. “Why not? Adventure is the spice of life.”
“Pretty sure I said it was orange-spiced, but whatever, it’s your funeral.” Will pulls out a packet of the orange and one of the peppermint before his own words register and he freezes. His head tilts forward and hits the cabinet door with an audible thunk. “Shit.”
“It’s fine.”
Somehow, Mike’s forgiveness just makes him feel worse. With his forehead still pressed into the wood, he lets out a frustrated laugh that sounds more like a groan. “My inability to keep my foot out of my mouth doesn’t bode well for the rest of the night.”
“Will.” Mike’s voice is closer now, to his left. When he lifts his head to look, Mike’s leaning against the fridge, and his smile isn’t even the least bit sad. “You worry too much. I’m not going to break down into tears if you mention Ted’s funeral, or my sobriety, or - I don’t know - peeing my pants in Click’s class.”
“Okay, but maybe I will. Did you ever think about that?”
“Nooo, you? Big macho mechanic man?” There’s that teasing note to his voice, so familiar, and it throws Will back in time, to him teasing Will for misplacing his house key, for losing a game after shamelessly cheating, for getting an unwanted Valentine from Charlotte Grant from fifth period. It’s second nature to groan and say, “Shut up, Michael!” on a childish whine.
It’s worth the brief flash of embarrassment for the way it makes Mike throw his head back and cackle the way he always hated when they were kids, the way Will always loved. It’s a happy sound, happy in the way Mike hasn’t been all week.
It’s impossible for Will not to notice the air of palpable sadness that followed his old friend like a stormy cloud. Well, it was easy to ignore in the beginning, when the hurt and anger was still fresh, when he was still avoiding Mike like the plague. But since their talk, or fight, or truce, it was obvious.
The truth is, even after a decade apart, he can still read Mike - his moods, at least - and no matter how successful Mike is now, no matter the money, the notoriety, the fame - he’s not happy.
based, of course, on a song from the stick season album, primarily this one:
honey come over
the party’s gone slower
and no one will tempt you
we know you got sober
there’s orange juice in the kitchen
bought for the children
it’s yours if you want it
we’re just glad you could visit
feels like i’ve been ready for you to come home
for so long
that i didn’t think to ask you where you’d gone
so why’d you go?
#tellthatbrookebitch#stranger things#byler#byler fic#wip wednesday#stick season au#will byers#mike wheeler
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Godzilla x Kong: First Impressions
Short review: Delicious fast food kaiju
A little bit longer now (avoiding spoilers and just giving overall impressions, so feel free to read even if you haven't seen yet):
No, really, this movie's tickets should literally come with a Happy Meal set and one of the blind crystal mini figures. It is a very specific, deceptively expertly crafted junk food pleasure that I sometimes find hard not to love.
I went in expecting a passable but somewhat embarrassing mess. It was a lot better than that, and I actually think Wingard is something of a genius at walking a particular action/comedy/blockbuster tightrope. So many elements are done just enough to satisfy, not so much as to annoy or ever slow the pacing, just the right amount of comic relief, and a sprinkling of drama that's actually fairly tasteful despite being puddle deep. He's also quite the visionary for thinking up ridiculous moments that pay off enough to make you forgive how outrageous they are. I genuinely laughed several times, a first for a MonsterVerse movie, and there really wasn't a tedious moment.
And the thing that will catch the most flak? The new mantra that will annoy the Godzilla world more than even Can't Bin the Shin? Ackshully, Godzilla x Kong is quite a lot like a Showa film.
A few other statements:
+Bernie is the best human character in the Monsterverse, and it's not close.
+The humor and the Easter eggs in this movie were both done more deftly than in any other Monsterverse film. Did you all catch the 2014 poster in Bernie's place? Did you catch "Punch punch punch?"
+The music was cool, and I'm happy Wingard really put his '80s electronic, neon light stamp on this movie. His confidence in his own tastes shone on virtually every frame, and even when I didn't share every particular preference, it was just a pleasure to see a filmmaker commit to it, even knowing some would sneer.
+I was skeptical about all the monkey business, but it was actually all right, and Skar King was cool enough. Shimo looked fairly impressive, too, and grew on me the more it reminded me of Ray Harryhausen's dragon from The Seventh Voyage of Sinbad.
+ I'm tempted to make a midwit curve meme with GxK on the dumb and brilliant ends and Godzilla Minus One at the 85-115 curve. But that would be hurtful, so I won't. (for the curve peakers - this is a joke)
Criticisms
-The biggest one, which others noted and which was apparent from the trailers, was the cartoonish movement of the kaiju. This was most an issue in the final battle, which would have benefitted from a little more money and time just to make it feel more impactful. But the whole movie is loaded with action and Shit Happening that, drawn out toooooo much more, and it could have felt exhausting like KoTM sometimes did. Again, Wingard has a supernatural sense for how long he can get away with things and played it safe and light.
-By now, I'm sure everyone knows about Kong's glove. How he gets it is almost laughably glazed over, but again, Wingard knows we don't really care for a drawn-out explanation and sequence there. The ridiculousness of it and the visual flair with how it's executed makes you throw up your hands and say, yeah, I mean that was dumb as hell but pretty sick, and here comes the next crazy moment.
-Less a criticism than an anticipation of the objections to positive reviews, but yes, if this type of movie were all the Godzilla franchise had to offer, I think I would tire of it. But we already had Sukiyabashi Jiro level sushi in Shin Godzilla and Gion Kyoto-level Kaiseki-ryori in Minus One. It's cool to also treat the palate with a McDonald's double cheeseburger, fries, and a classic Coke whose sugary sludge we know is going to lead us to needing a very special false tooth. There are many kinds of pleasures in the world.
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NARCOS | NCT #trailer
GENRE| heist au, mob au, mafia au, crime au, gang au
WC| 307
SUMMARY| South Korea wasn’t really scared of drug trafficking. They have other issues around their mind instead of small gangs in Seoul that don’t do much harm. But what if a priest, ex soldier, prisoner, drug dealer, lawyer, rich kid and bored young adult will made the biggest drug imperium in whole Asia? Because, who would though of gang doing their business in church with a priest as a head of whole mess?
TW| drugs trafficking, violence, dark themes, mafia organization, mentions of religion, theme of crime, usage of drugs, crime in overal/
AN| i do not support any kind of themes included in this story. i am against that. i am not trying to offend any religion, i’ll use it just as a theme/background for story. do not use drugs or try anything like that. based on fictional characters and story line.
“Ladies, and Gentlemans.” Priest Lee was standing on top of an auditorium. “Here begins the history. As we could never speak up against our Goverment, and we are well aware of their crimes. Of our money getting used as a fuckin tool for nothing! We’ve been stolen from for a years yet no one fuckin cares. It’s time now for revolution. For new movement. If we can not make money in a legal way, then we’ll do it in our way!”
“I can’t fuckin believe it. I’ll make coke in a fuckin church with nuns all over and old assholes.” Jaehyun sighed while nun next to him smiled, because she didn’t understood what he was saying. “And them deaf bitches.”
“We do it for good reasons, tho. Of course, I don’t want to fuck my life but I need money.”
“Me too. I don’t have much time, but I need a lot of cash for it. I don’t believe in God, but I do believe in Priest Lee.”
“Everyone does. We’re here for good reason.” You smiled at nuns getting next to you just to go after Priest Lee. “No matter how terrible our job is, we have to do it. For our families. Friends. Needs. Us.”
“God may save us.” Taeil prayed quickly, before everyone did handshake. “May God forgive us for what we about to do.”
“We’ll be burning in hell. Even God can’t help us.”
Priest Lee welcomed new members of his church. People love men with adorable faces, and innocent intentions.
“Whatever. It doesn’t matter. I am sick of system we live in. We can’t do it anymore. Look at them seniors. They’ve been robbed too. Plus, they aren’t really aware what they put themselfs into.” He giggled like an evil which made your group freeze on spot. “May God save us, Amen!”
©rosietaeyongswife, all rights reserved
#nct#nct au#NCT 127#nct 127 scenarios#nct 127 au#nct scenarios#kpop#kpop au#drama#heist au#crime au#mafia au#nct mafia#narcos#taeyong#taeyong scenarios#taeil#taeil scenarios#johnny#johnny scenarios#yuta#yuta scenarios#doyoung#doyoung scenarios#jaehyun#jaehyun scenarios#haechan#mark lee#wayv#nct dream
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𝔸𝕤 𝕀𝕥 𝕎𝕒𝕤 ☏ 𝐬𝐚𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐬
𝖻𝗈𝗇𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾
How did I even get here?
I awkwardly stood in the middle of Sam’s room. My mother had convinced me to hangout with Sam while she talked to his mom. How? She said she would buy me a roblox gift card if I hung out with him.
Don’t judge. I need those robux.
Instead of dwelling on it, I looked around Sam’s room. It looked a lot different than the last time I saw it. It was 5 years ago but still- ya know, different. The walls used to be covered with drawings but those were replaced with album covers. The childish furniture was changed for more mature furniture.
Bruh why am I describing a room? He’s older now of course it’s going to be different.
“I brought the soda!” Sam walked back in holding a can of Dr. Pepper and a can of Coke. “You can sit on my bed if you want.”
“Uh, thanks.” I sat down and he sat next to me.
Yooo kinda close my guy…
He handed me the Dr. Pepper while he scrunched his nose.
Cute. WAIT NO-
“I don’t understand how you like that stuff.” he said while opening his can of soda. I pretended to be offended. “How dare you? No matter how many times I explain this you always go back to your horrid ideals.” I smiled while opening my can of soda.
“Well I don’t like the taste of medicine so-“ Sam said dead serious. We made eye contact and burst into laughter. We’ve had this ‘argument’ so many times when we were younger.
He’d always back away and say it was nasty. I would end up chasing him around threatening him with the soda. Good times.
When we stopped laughing there was an awkward pause. We bother sipped our sodas and avoided eye contact. Suddenly, Sam cleared his throat. “So… how was New York?” he asked.
I thought for a second then shrugged, “It was ok I guess. Nothing interesting happened. The only major thing is I finally learned how to play the drums.” His face brightened up with that last part.
“We can finally start a band together like we said we would! I have some friends that play bass and piano that could join!” He looked like he had stars in his eyes.
I smiled, his passion has always been music. “I’d love to meet them! Do they go to Stoneybrook High?” I asked.
He nodded, “Yeah, Emmet and Oliver! They’re in the same grade as us. Emmet plays base and Oliver plays piano. They’re pretty good if you ask me.” Sam smiled as he talked about his friends. “I can introduce you to them once you get settled in.”
“Yeah that’d be nice” I smiled at him. We kinda stared at each other for a bit. I looked away before he could notice that I was getting flustered.
“Um… so how have you been?” I asked. “I’ve been good! I’m still learning guitar, but we can still start that band!” I smiled as he talked about his life so far.
“Oh! Also, David Micheal and Kristy are much older now. I wish you were here to see them grow up” he added. It was quiet as we drank our sodas.
We just stared at the ground for a bit. I thought about what I said when I left and felt a knot of guilt buildup in my throat.
Why did I saw those things? Why is he talking to me like I did nothing wrong? He should hate me.
“I’m sorry for what I said when I left..” I picked at my nails with my free hand as he glanced at me.
After a few seconds of silence he grabbed my hand. “Don’t pick your nails, you’ll bleed.”
What..?
“Why are you being so nice to me?” I looked up from the ground and looked at him in confusion. He sighed. “What you said really hurt me,” I tried picking at my nails but he stopped me again. “But I know you didn’t mean it. You were just grieving, I know that now.”
Tears filled my eyes. He squeezed my hand.. “I forgive you Y/n. I want us to be as close as we used to be, if you’re ok with that.” He smiled with closed eyes.
I hugged him, trying to hide my tears. Sam hugged me back. He rubbed my back as he leaned his head on my shoulder. “Thank you for being my friend.” I murmured to Sam.
He hugged me a little tighter before pulling away and looking me in the eyes. “You don’t have to thank me for that. I’d choose to be with you any lifetime.”
I felt my face get hotter.
That sounded romantic-
A few seconds passed before Sam’s face turned red as he also realized what he said.
“Y/n! Time to go!” my mom called from the bottom of the stairs. Sam cleared cleared his throat and took his hands from my shoulders, “I can take your trash if you’re done.” He gestured to my soda.
“Um, yeah thanks! I’ll… see you later?” I said (asked?) as I handed him my trash. “Yep, I’ll walk you to the door!” He replied after throwing the empty cans away in his trash bin.
We walked out of his room and down the stairs. My mom smiled at Sam and told me to put on my shoes. We said our goodbyes and left.
☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆
𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗄𝗂𝗇𝖽𝖺 𝖽𝗈𝗀 𝗐𝖺𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝗇𝗀𝗅- 𝖺𝗇𝗒𝗐𝖺𝗒𝗌, 𝗂 𝗁𝗈𝗉𝖾𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗀𝗎𝗒𝗌 𝖾𝗇𝗃𝗈𝗒𝖾𝖽! 𝗂𝖿 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝖻𝖾 𝖺𝖽𝖽𝖾𝖽 𝗌𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗍𝖺𝗀𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝖺𝗌𝗄 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗌!
𝗆𝖺𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍
#sam thomas x reader#sam thomas#the babysitters club#the bsc#netflix#Spotify#bsc#the baby sitters club#the baby-sitters club
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The Lost Culture of Handhelds
I got my Gameboy Color for my birthday in 1999. It was a bit late as far as that handheld went with the Game Boy Advance just a year or two away, but it was not an uneventful time. Pokemon Gold was coming out soon, Link’s Awakening DX was released the year prior, and Nintendo was riding high after notable titles, especially The Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time in ‘98. And as is often the case for a late comer, I had an extensive library to choose from for my Xmas and birthday lists, from Mega Man Xtreme 1 & 2 to Bionic Commando.
But even at the time I did not realize the impact that birthday gift would have in the years to come. I am the youngest of three brothers, and we were close in age. As a result, while I did still enjoy my console games, we were still dividing TV time between the three of us. So, when the TV was occupied, my gameboy was readily available. While the middle child also got a GBC, handhelds were always more my thing than anyone else in the household.
By its name, Game “Boy” has a rather diminutive connotation. This wasn’t for the big games, surely. This is the stuff on the side, while the bigger games were doing their bigger graphics and bigger presentations. Where there was Ocarina of Time, the handheld had the smaller Link’s Awakening.
In a manner of speaking, this was sort of true. There were a lot of side stories and spin offs on the hand helds. The aforementioned Mega Man Xtreme 1 & 2 was typically forgotten in the main line Mega Man X games (except for X6, of all games), and Link’s Awakening was carrying on Zelda’s tradition of weird spin offs to their main event games (such as Majora’s Mask). And, of course, these games were made at lower costs than anything on consoles.
But this was not just the diet coke version of gaming. Pokemon was strictly a hand held title, save for some addons like Pokemon Stadium or spin offs like Snap!. Several series were exclusive and expected to be handheld. This was not the usual casual game you see on phones nowadays. The GBA would have Boktai, a game specifically designed to be carried outside in the sunlight as part of its core gameplay.
In fact, the Game Boy Advanced is where, for myself at least, things really got off the ground. This is where Castlevania continued its Metroidvania style games (and which introduced me to the series). A whole sequel series to Mega Man X, Mega Man Zero, was released on this platform. The west was more formally introduced to Fire Emblem through Eliwood’s game on here. There was Golden Sun, an RPG which mixed turn based combat and Zelda like puzzles, and even had a system to carry on levels, inventory and other information to its sequel, much like a Bioware game. Metroid’s main series was carried on through Fusion. And, because I would not forgive myself if I forgot, we had Ninja Five-O, a great game that was in stores for about two minutes before being pulled from shelves.
Besides Golden Sun and Ninja Five-O were these mainline games in their respective franchises? Well, that’s an interesting question. Two Castlevania games were released on the PS2, but are often considered inferior to their GBA counterparts. Mega Man X on the PS2 suffered a similar legacy, next to Zero and Battle Network. Fire Emblem would have Path of Radiance on the Gamecube, which was well received, but the series would continue to shine on handhelds, through the 3DS era and into Three Houses. Metroid Prime is often considered superior to Fusion, but Prime is also in a weird position of spin off/separate continuity.
But on the other side of the coin, the GBA would break a lot of traditions from the main line series. Only one of the three Castlevania games would star a Belmont, and none of them played like the original games. Mega Man Zero was an action platformer, but is far less defined by the classic tradition of stealing a boss’s powers. Fire Emblem on the GBA had nothing to do with Marth or the other areas around Archenea.
So, while it would be unfair to brush these handhelds as “side content”, they were often breaks from form. They were a lot more experimental within the already established franchises that were released on these platforms. And not just the established names either. The aforementioned Boktai did things only a handheld could do.
But it’s not just experimentation that defined this subculture of gaming. With the push to 3D in the PS1 to PS2 era, allowing for more cinematic presentations (such as Final Fantasy VII and Metal Gear Solid), the GBA was still using 2D gameplay and graphics. While the GBA was a graphical improvement over the GBC, they were still not where the biggest budget was going toward. So, with less time and effort toward cutscenes, the hand helds were very gameplay focused.
This is telling in Golden Sun. This game was meant to invoke the RPGs of the SNES, but it does not take long at all to get to the meat of the game, between its puzzles and its combat. Mega Man Zero basically throws you into the action after a very short cutscene. The Castlevania games take a precious few moments to exstablish setting and characters before your first enemy encounter. While Metal Gear Solid, Devil May Cry, and Final Fantasy were spending a lot of time with their cutscenes, the Game Boy Advance often cut to the chase.
The lower costs also led to a larger library and more frequent releases. Mega Man Zero had an overarching story across four games with yearly releases. Each of the three Castlevania games were released fairly close to each other and had their own twists on the formula, and three more would be released for DS. Across three handheld platforms (GBA, DS and 3DS), Fire Emblem had 8 releases. Fire Emblem Fates (that mess) had three whole game length scenarios and was released only a year before the much superior, more narratively consistent Fire Emblem Echoes. Meanwhile, the Switch only had one, and there is talk of the console being retired soon. And these are just the ones I was into. I haven’t even mentioned the many Mario, Yoshi and other properties that were released here. The turnover rate for quite a number of series’ was remarkably quick.
This mix of lower costs, freedom to experiment, and immediacy granted handhelds their own culture in the gaming world. Before the indy-game market took flight, this was the place to find the smaller titles that were low on presentation but dedicated to their gameplay loops. While 3D graphics would be introduced a generation later, this culture carried on. The DS would introduce a touch screen, exploring more avenues for controls and options. Castlevania would carry on through this platform, and Mega Man Zero would get a sequel series in ZX. While the Wii had an overall mixed legacy, the DS was still carrying on what we loved about hand helds.
And then things started to change during the 3DS era. Now, let me start by saying that some of my favorite titles are on this platform. While I did get Eliwood’s game when it came out, it wasn’t until after playing Awakening did I go through the whole series and fell in love with it. Fates sullied that a bit, but Echoes redeemed that so fair’s fair. I loved Shinobi 3D, it introduced me to Monster Hunter, and this is where the series would get a lot of its success.
But here’s where things changed. The 3DS was also a major system for remakes and rereleases. Two Dragon Quest games were rereleased. We had the remakes of Fire Emblem Gaiden and Metroid II. Xenoblade Chronicles would get a release here after its Wii tenure. And there was also a very active Virtual Console (and the rerelease of many much older games) on this system through its store. A lot of ports, but not a lot of new exclusives. Castlevania really went downhill during this time, and Megaman basically imploded due to a lot of internal drama, resulting in the suddenly cancelled Megaman Legends 3. Those are two major forces that had made the handhelds fun with very little to show during this generation. There were the first party games, but the third party I fell in love with had little to show.
Now, I loved Dragon Quest VIII, the rereleases and so much about the 3DS. The immediacy was still there. But it was a point where things started to converge. Suddenly, there was very little limiting a handheld as graphical fidelity became more accessible on smaller systems. More and more gaming was digital only, and the divide was slowly melting away. I used to think that the DS was a transitional period, but, no, that honor went to the 3DS.
And then we had the release of the Switch, and the two worlds had truly met. There was no more divide between Nintendo’s main line and the experimental. The line is two blurred with the switch acting as both console and handheld. This begs the question: Has the culture truly been lost?
Before I try to answer this, I am trying not to be a nostalgia blinded downer. There are games I am looking forward to, of today and yesteryear and I don’t think the medium will ever truly die. It has its ups and downs, like all other mediums.
The immediacy has remained intact. Breath of the Wild is notable for cutting through console-Zelda’s endless tutorials and throwing you into the action. As did Metroid Dread. But Fire Emblem: Three Houses has added a lot of unnecessary fluff and I not would call it a step forward. But overall, I feel that the massive wad of tutorials and long intro cutscenes had been downsized in favor of more immersive, elegant ways of easing a player in.
With the indy game market now the way it is, the Switch does have a larger third party than a number of its predecessors. The Switch store is becoming like steam with the number of indy titles that come in. And, yes, they are gameplay focused, lower budget affairs.
But what really changed is what the major publishers are doing. And this does not just apply to hand helds. The major publishers are not as willing to do smaller projects as before. There are indy projects and major releases, but the middle class is basically gone.
Example: While Breath of the Wild has a sequel on the way, I do not see another Link’s Awakening, Link Between Worlds, Phantom Hourglass, Minish Cap or other small experimental game coming to the series anytime soon. Yes, Majora’s Mask was one of the more interesting Zelda titles, but there was still a difference between that and Link’s Awakening. Too much money goes into a release from a major publisher to indulge the weirder projects.
But it would be unfair to say that the current audience is deprived. It’s not so much that games of these sizes are gone. Instead, its more that the landscape has changed. The barrier to access for indies has basically diminished. Where you would need a major publisher before, all you need is knowledge and expertise to get something out there. It is a flooded market, granted and the meritocracy has its ups and downs. But search long enough for a given genre and you’ll find something you’re looking for.
And while Nintendo might not be as interested in small projects, the middle ground budgets are not entirely vacant. Kickstarter has had a mixed history, but things like Bloodstained captured that era very well. While the times are fraught with looter shooters, skinner boxes, and the toxic side of gaming, there is still a demand for various other genres. So, no, the culture is not lost, just transformed. Like how the internet has dispersed cultural norms from what was being enforced by TV, it has done the same to gaming.
It is hard to describe in words why I feel the end of the classic hand helds when, objectively, access to games has never been easier. Yes, I will admit it is mostly nostalgia. But the point of this article is not to decry the downfall of gaming (even if I have my own gripes on the current state of things). Rather, it is to give a perspective on a specific subculture in gaming history. It is to give light upon a era that the youngest of us had never even seen. And, perhaps, give a little context for the path of how gaming got to this point now. I could go over the whys and hows, but those are subjects in and of themselves.
There’s probably a number of kids in the back of their parents’ cars, on a switch with a brand new game they got for Christmas. And they’re hopefully not going through it with the same stigma against them as my generation. And, honestly, good on em!
Thank you for indulging me on this nostalgia trip. Happy Holidays!
#game boy#game boy advance#Castlevania#metroidvania#Metroid#Mega man#Mega man zero#Mega man ZX#Ninja Five-O#Fire Emblem#Nintendo DS#nintendo switch#Zelda
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