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#what the hell did they do to my GOLDEN RETRIEVER OF A BOY

coleskingdom · 1 day

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Hall Pass

Jay White x Female Reader

NSFW Minors DNI 18+

@midwestmade29 @madhatterbri

You need these” Jay handing me his sunglasses even though we were just sitting down for lunch in catering. “What? Why?” my attention drawn elsewhere. “If you’re going to stare at golden boys ass like that, at least do it from behind the glasses.” there was no humor in his tone. Just then Mariah walked in Jay reached back for the glasses putting them on as his head slightly followed her across the room.

I roll my eyes dramatically at him “I’ve lost my appetite.” pushing back from the table. “Sit, Sweetheart. If I didn’t eat every time you stared at golden boy , I would’ve starved to death by now.” he growled only low of enough for me to hear. I glared at him, as I took a bite. “A lesser man would’ve left you for your disrespectful eye fucking of golden boy. I however am not a lesser man. In fact from what I hear a romp with him isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.” his wink and smirk had me wanting to stab him with my fork.

“ Why are you so ruffled? I saw that flash in your eyes. I’m a fair man, if you want a night of being pounded in to and being called Bruv, I’ll say yes, but you’ll have to say yes to me taking Mariah back to the hotel, but I know what I’m getting into. Those stardom girls are something different all together.”he made the chefs kiss motion. “I’m done here.” pushing back from the table and walking out of the room I heard his laugh as I left , Mariah taking a seat next to him as I glanced back.

“Ugh, I fucking hate him” slamming the door behind me entering into the Bullet Club Gold locker room. “ Who do you hate?” the unmistakable voice of Skye asked sitting up from the couch in the room. “What the fuck?”completely caught off guard staring at her. “ Hey now, Jay said I could lay down in here. He’s a real sweetheart. Seriously though, are you okay?” as she made room on the couch. “ No, yes, maybe. Jays the nod infuriating man I’ve ever met.” Sitting down “ But what did you do?” Nudging my shoulder playfully. “ Apparently I was staring at Wills ass.” she laughed “Its not funny. He then started staring at Mariah. Who the hell can compete with that and she just sat down with him as I left.” I put my head in my hands. “ It’s funny I got in the same situation twice with Kyle. Once for Will and once for Jay.” I looked at my jaw dropped .”Come on, look at him, he’s all abs and attitude. You know what you have. Don’t act shocked that I looked at him.” Smirking at me. “So why Will? Aside from his God like body. I get to say that because I’m sharing an apartment with him and Kyle. What is that keeps pulling your attention away?.” I hesitated “I’m your best friend just tell me.” Her hand taking mine. “ You’re right about abs and attitude with Jay. I don’t know he’s like that golden retriever puppy he’s just so fucking happy and nice. I’ll be fine and I’m gonna stop looking at Will. Jay thinks it’s all about that and I quote be pounded and called bruv. When it’s more like I want to have a burger and a laugh.” I sighed “ I trust Jay implicitly and I get why he did what he did, but he offered me a hall pass for Will if he could have one with her.” looking at my bestie “ Holy shit what did you say? Is Jay really okay with that ?Everyone knows he’s batshit crazy over you.” I got up and began to pace “ I didn’t say anything what the hell could I say, I was pissed and hurt that he’d actually say that. Maybe he’s tired of me, maybe it’s closer to being over than it is for forever. Fuck if I know. I’ve got to get out of here before he comes in here.” moving toward my bag. “Want my opinion I think you are handling too much of his shit? But I’m gonna say this because I love all three of you. Don’t take the hall pass and don’t give him one either. Will’s not for you, but if you want that burger and a laugh come out with me and Kyle, Will, and Mark I can make that happen.” She stood and hugged me. “I’m gonna head out I think you and Jay have some shit to talk about.” she left just as I was debating about following her.

“Sweetheart where are you headed?” Jay’s mocking tone filling the room as he and Skye passed each other. “ None of your fucking business.” walking towards him. “ Tsk tsk you know our rule we don’t leave each other mad. Besides the best part of fighting is the fucking afterwards.” he stalked me till my back was up against the wall. “ So are we done fighting?” his hand tracing my face the other one finding my hip.

“ Mariah not available?” I seethe but my body craves his touch. “You’d look so pretty wearing my hand as a necklace “ his fingers tracing the side of my neck his thumb pressing lightly causing me to gasp. “Sweetheart, there’s no one, that I want or need more than you.” his kiss sure and deep, his hand keeping my focus only on him. “ Keep looking at me like you want to fuck me but you also want to kill me." His hands thread in my hair, as he continues to kiss me. His hips move and he growls a bit of delight in the back of his throat. His hand pulls my hair harder, and it's like I'm completely swallowed by him.

I fall into that kiss, tumbling deep into this moment, forgetting about everything.

His fingers keep dip below my waistband stroking my pussy over my panties, the other hand gripping my ass. His hard body pins me against the wall and I wrap my arms around his neck, going insane with bliss. "You're fucking soaked," Jay’s voice amused. “You're touching me of course I am.” His mouth buries mine, hungry now, and his fingers slip underneath and tease up and down my slit. I'm moaning into his tongue and I don't care anymore as his fingers slide inside of me, fucking me nice and deep. Oh my god, he presses against that spot inside me . My knees go limp and he's supporting my weight as his fingers stroke in and out, hitting the spot over and over. My eyes roll back, l'm moaning, mindless, insane with pleasure, and he's not stopping.

He bites my lower lip and whispers, "Come for me, sweetheart, come on, you need it, don't you?"

"Yes," | gasp, shaking as I shatter on his hand. I come in a sudden rush, my fingers digging into his back, my cheeks tingling. "Good girl”he whispers my head resting on his shoulder.

“Jay, I’m…” his finger on my lips silenced me. “ I took it to far I’m sorry.” kissing my forehead. “Just the idea of you..” I put my finger on his lips this time.

#aew smut.#aew smut #aew fanfiction #switchblade jay white x reader #jay white x you #jay white fanfiction #jay white smut #switchblade jay white smut

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1moreoffkeyanthem · 2 days

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Begging for you to talk about OJV Stans and Marj’s friendship. Mari coming out to Stan first and whenever she is having a meltdown him always zooming to find Kenny or Kyle is so wholesome. I always head cannon that Stan would view Marj like a little sister so your interpretation of their friendship makes me so happy. I would love to hear more facts/head cannns about them :3

Oh my god first of all HELL YES OJV Marj and Stan, their friendship slays so hard and I love that you’re asking abt it!

One of the things about OJV Stan is that he IS the Dad Friend. By which I mean he’s extremely protective but also unequipped for actual crises, and is prone to inadvertently indulging in shenanigans. The way this extends to Marj? Lemme get goin.

So when she came out to him, bro was CONFUSED like “uhhhh why am I the first person you’re talking about this with? Why not, I dunno, Kenny or something” like Stan fully isnt the person to go to for advice but he IS the person to confide in (plus he gives really good hugs if u need them) and he actually cried when her answer was “I just felt like I could trust you is all” this sweet boy, if he doesn’t know what to do in a situation he’s GONNA find someone who will, so he went “what about talking to Kyle? He might know more about this than me?” And she read him for absolute filth lmao all “well speakin of, that’s why I came to you. You have your own little secret that you’ve been scared to bring up, dontcha” AGDGJKLH

Nah but seriously, their friendship is so wholesome, she frequently scolds Stan for indulging Kenny’s recklessness, he’s out here like “dude Marj that’s a pyramid scheme don’t fuck with that shit” (she winds up running it lmfao) and may not always be the most observant person, but he knows his friends and ALWAYS recognizes the signs of Marj starting to shut down, and she knows that. She says the word and Stan is finding her someone with the emotional tools to help. I also like to think that Stan COULD be one of those people. OrangeJuiceVerse Stan Marsh is actually very emotionally intelligent, but he isn’t confident enough in that to think he has any room to help others. It’s the same reason that later down the line he wrestles with taking on a sponsee.

A more fun note: in that first year of college, the trio of Marj Stan and Cartman are THE musical theatre gang. I’m talking they are DESTROYING karaoke. I don’t know why I have this headcanon but I do and I love it. Another is that when Stan gets in trouble with her he gets so guilty for disappointing her lmfao like out here looking like a sad puppy all “I’m sorry Marj Ken and I thought hanging off the roof was the best way to get the top piece of his sculpture attached” smh “don’t tell Kyle” “don’t tell me what?” Lmao

And Stan is SUPER protective of anyone in his group, plus he’s kind of a social justice warrior lol he isn’t confrontational as Kyle and Cartman are but he’s GONNA go “hey dude that’s not cool” call someone out for being a dick and he’s intimidating when he gets mad! Like OJV Stan is a BIG BOY he’s a gentle giant for sure but fuck with someone he loves and suddenly the golden retriever boy is SCARY. karaoke trio nights someone says something transphobic and he is there all “the fuck did you just say to her?” Now Marj and Stan are both the ‘muscle’ of their group. Both are tall and strong and could definitely fuck someone up. They don’t, but they could. Both are pretty gentle in nature which is super sweet, but they could do some damage if they had to. They’re a slay duo tbh

That’s what I got rn dude, thank u for the ask I love the OJV homies!!!

#asks #south park #headcanons #OrangeJuiceVerse #stan marsh #lmm voice: look at my son #marjorine stotch #bad bitches only

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mortuarywriting · 2 months

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Tagged by @syoddeye to list 7 Comfort Movies! Christ this was hard.

In no particular order!

The Crow (1994)

Pacific Rim

The Lord of the Rings [Trilogy, extended editions]

Pride and Prejudice [1995 Miniseries with Jennifer Ehle and Colin Firth]

Silent Hill

RED

Cabin in the Woods

This was. Not easy. Hard to think of ones I keep going back to but the Crow because that's one my roommate once had to tell me to please not choose before ">>

And after going through my DVD binder I could even choose more tbh

#please don't talk to me about the new one theyre coming out with they did my poor Eric dirty #man wore Aloha shirts he would not Be Like That #look if theyd gone comics. thatd be fine. if they went for the movie. thatd be fine #what the hell did they do to my GOLDEN RETRIEVER OF A BOY #rambles from the morgue #don't ask me how many campy gory horror movies i own #for all of college my go-to present i told people to get me was the shittiest horror anthologies you can find in the $5 bin #i love all of them #3 and 4 are my go-to 'youre sick and need something on tv so pick something that you know so well as you pass in and out you know whats up'

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midnightwriter21 · 1 year

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demon slayer hcs: the hashira men as boyfriends

characters: tengen, sanemi, giyuu, rengoku, muichiro, obanai

AN: i don’t write for gyomei srry

TENGEN

- this isn’t just a little fling

-mans doesn’t wanna be ur bf

-he wants to be your HUSBAND

- and he’s gonna make that happen ASAP

- and when y’all get married you’re not just getting a husband

- ur getting 3 wives too

- it’s a package deal

- overprotective!!

- the way he made his wives promise to prioritize their lives over the mission

- my heart was bursting

- carries u around

- when tengen is around ur feet hardly ever touch the floor

- doesn’t matter how big or tall u are

- he’s bigger and taller

-he's big all over if ykyk

-nicknames include: sweetheart, princess, baby

- and don’t think he’s saying those to be cute

- he’s absolutely mocking you

-which brings me to…

- this man teases the HELL out of you

- but with love

- he loves you just as much as he loves his wives

- in his mind ur alrdy married

- and he is NOT letting you go

- or letting any harm come to you as long as he can help it

- 4 lifer fr

- id marry him

SANEMI

-i’ve said it before and i’ll say it again

-he’d tear it UP

-and i’d let him

- loves you so much

- doesn’t show it in public

- but in private?

- clingy as fUck

- he’s like ur shadow fr

- will follow u around all day

- hands on ur waist

- arm around ur shoulder

- holding ur hand

- he will not let go of u when ur alone

- in public he’s a lot less touchy

- but he will still stand near you

- jealous af

- every slayer knows by now to stay tf away from you or face the wrath of the wind pillar

- you belong to him

- makes sure they know it

- makes sure you know it

-hickey MASTER

-no i will not elaborate

- everybody knows sanemi is a little rough around the edges

- so there are days when it’s hard for him to open up to you

- but he does try

- he’s got a reputation to keep up!

-gotta act tough

-no weaknesses!!

- except for u

-he’s so soft for u he can’t help it

- nicknames: dumbass, idiot, & feather (my personal favorite)

-like i said he is almost always physically connected to u in some way when ur alone

-ignore him? he's throwing u over his shoulder

-he's strong he can manhandle u all over the place

-sheeeeeshhhhh manhandle me however u want sir

-claims ur super light no matter ur size

-hence the nickname "feather"

-i love him

GIYUU

-ik damn well this man had EVERONE in a chokehold from the first second he showed up

-speaking of chokeholds... ;)

-put me in one pls sir

-anyways

-awkward as fuck

-but he tries for u

-terrible with physical affection

-but we all know he's SOOO touch starved

-you'll have to initiate any type of physical touch

-and make sure he's not uncomfortable

-but really there's nothing he wants more than to touch you

-takes a very long time to say "i love you"

-but can u blame him??

-every good thing the poor man has ever had has been ripped away from him :(

-because of this he's veryyyy protective

-cause he'll be damned if the last person he has that accepts him and loves him for all he is

-is hurt or killed

-100% will die for u without a second thought

-not really a nickname type of guy

-remember he's awkward as hell

-most you'll get is a "-chan" attached to ur name

-and even that is only when y'all are alone

-but still

-even if he doesn't always show it

-you are always on his mind

-he's on a mission and walking through a market?

-he's buying you a hairpin or som

-walking through a forest and sees some flowers?

-"i wonder if she'll like these"

-AND HE'S PICKING U A BOUQUET

-ugh soft for bf giyuu

RENGOKU

-sunshine boy!!!

- epitome of golden retriever boyfriend

-all smiles all the time

-follows u around like lost puppy

-shows off for u

-yk when ur around kids and they're like "watch this" and then they jump and spin a circle lmao

-thats him

-"did you see what i just did?!"

-if u didnt...

-he's doing it again

-wants to impress you so bad

-also you will never have to lift a finger in his presence

-service bf!!

-you need the dishes washed and the floor swept?

-he's on it

-you need help styling ur hair?

-welcome to rengoku's hair salon

-will attempt to dress you in the morning

-and by dress you, i mean he's tugging ur shirt over ur head

-zipping up ur pants

-and tying ur shoes

-brags about you to anyone and everyone

-the other hashira can't have a single conversation with him without him bringing you up somehow

-compliments compliments compliments!!!

-he loves you and isn't afraid to show it

-nicknames from him: my love, my beautiful girl, sweetheart

-constantly confessing his love

-also lowkey speaks poetry for u

-some shit like

-"my light in the darkness, the one who gives me strength, you set my heart ablaze just by allowing me the privilege of seeing your smile"

-ugh he's the sweetest baby

MUICHIRO

-my airheaded angel baby

-i love him sm stop

-baby boy has a terrible memory

-that we alrdy knew

-but!

-he tries so hard for you

-keeps a little journal with notes and information about you

-so if he forgets he can remind himself over and over

-when he's on missions away from you he reads it so he can think about you to pass the time

-can not and will not remember anniversaries

-unless they're written in that journal

-will pick u flowers

-hope ur not allergic cause he's not gonna remember that

-but it's the thought that counts

-the fact that he's thinking about you at all counts

-you wanna go on a date?

-your dates consist of watching the clouds and taking naps together

-maybe a picnic if ur lucky

-no nicknames from him

-he calls you by your name

-its all he can remember

-he's the cutest

OBANAI

-like sanemi, he's a lot less affectionate in public

-however, he's not afraid to express his thoughts about you

-at least not to the other hashira

-might not be glued to your side

-but he's got eyes on u at all times

-and someone is talking about you?

-the second he hears ur name leave somebodies mouth

-he's tuned in

-and they better not say anything negative either

-mans turns murderous

-they will wake up to a snake in their bed

-will prob threaten them within an inch of their life

-don't have to worry abt other people while he's around

-cause he's got everything

-and i mean EVERYTHING taken care of

-protective but not pushy

-i feel like obanai trusts you and your ability to handle yourself

-but thats not gonna stop him from watching over you

-you're not drinking enough water?

-here comes obanai with a cup and u better drink it all

-haven't had lunch yet?

-he's sharing his with you. and will force feed u if need be.

-on a mission with him?

-he's not gonna push u behind him or anything

-but nothing is gonna get the chance to bring any harm to you either

-he's got ur back

-he's pretty vanilla with the nicknames

-nothing too crazy

-especially in public

-mostly uses ur first name

-might add a "-chan" in there every once in a while

-when ur alone he'll call you "sweetie"

-acts like a hard ass

-but he's soft for u

#demon slayer #anime #demon slayer x reader #kny x reader #kimetsu no yaiba x reader #giyuu x reader #obanai x reader #sanemi x reader #muichiro x reader #rengoku x reader #tengen x reader #tengen uzui #giyuu tomioka #obanai iguro #muichiro tokito #rengoku kyojuro

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rafesmuse · 2 months

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jj maybank’s hot and confident baddie!gf hcs ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

navigation . outfits . masterlist . rafe version .

ꨄ︎ this man is head over heels for you, kissing the ground you walk on type of energy. golden retriever & black cat couple. his friends frequently joke that you wear the pants in the relationship but he doesn’t care about anyone’s opinion— he feels like the luckiest man alive. “i’m her bitch? hell yeah i am.”

ꨄ︎ he feels so proud when you stick up for him, especially against the kooks. he’s ready to fight anyone that disrespects him but before he gets the chance, you’re already putting them in their place. he proudly watches you with the biggest smile on his face, letting you do your thing. “that’s my girl.”

ꨄ︎ doesn’t mind being submissive for you in the bedroom. calls you ‘mommy’ sometimes and lets you take control whenever you want to— it’s so fucking hot to him. he loves it when you praise him while you’re rocking your hips back and forth on his cock, whispering in his ear what a good boy he is.

ꨄ︎ he’s completely obsessed with you. always taking candid pictures of you and setting them as his lockscreen. his instagram page is filled with you as well, whether it’s the two of you together or just you alone. he’s literally your biggest fan and hypeman. “turn your head juuuust a bit to the left mamas, need to get that highlighter on camera.”

ꨄ︎ this man does anything for you. and with anything i mean anything. you ask for it and he will get it, no matter what. “oh, you think that puppy is cute? alright, ma’am. gimme three… maybe four working days and a puppy will be delivered right to your door step.” “j, that’s not wha-“ “sssh, just lemme make my girl happy.”

ꨄ︎ poor baby gets so sad when you get attention from men. he refuses to talk to you for an hour and will pout and sulk all day with his arms crossed. “he totally wanted to fuck you babe” “don’t be stupid, he was the goddamn waiter!” “so? doesn’t mean he didn’t wanna fuck you. did you see the way he looked at you when he served us those burgers?!”

ꨄ︎ you’re very protective of him and you make sure luke won’t ever lay a finger on jj again. jj spends most of his time at your house because he feels so at ease there, but if he needs to grab something from his house, you always go with him. if it escalates, you will have jj’s back before it gets out of hand. "listen, 'cause I'm only gonna say it once. touch him again and you're gonna be in big fucking trouble, got it?”

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gojoshooter · 6 months

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Asking Jock!Yuuji To Teach You Lift Weights

pairing : aged up Jock!Yuuji x f!reader

an : here's to my first Yuji fic~ hope u like <3

A soft sigh leaves you. It has barely been fifteen minutes — fifteen minutes since the familiar strapping pinkette has walked into your local gym. If you take a rough guess... it has been a few weeks since he joined in, and since then, you've been anything but focused on your routine.

Anything but calm and ofcourse it's not because you're thinking about eight thousand and one ways to approach a cute jock boy without sounding like a fangirl. Ofcourse not, it's the treadmill. The only time you ever took a good look at his sweaty natural black undercut and the crescent smiley eyes is through the mirror in front. You know better, but the problem is you're a lil wimp like your bestfriend calls you.

Speaking of your dear bestfriend— you check your watch— who is late as ever, you take a couple long drags of the morning gym air.

I'll make it fast, let's do this, I have a chance. Maybe. How do the popular girls make a move? I can't think too much. Nooo no no. Alright, he'll not hang me for walking his way, chill out y/n. Not like I'll mind but—

He whips his head. Your first instinct is to stupidly turn around and skip out of the damned gym. But you're a human, and you need to speak before his brows lift higher. You've been walking his way all while reciting your inner monologue and almost tripped into the back of his damp sleeveless tee. You didn't even notice he was almost a foot taller than you, until this moment. Heat rises to your neck, crawling up your face.

“Uuh...” Seriously, of the thousands of times you thought of this moment, never did you think what then.

“Actually...” you start again, with a little more adrenaline to back you up. “you seem quite fit, heh... would you mind teaching me uh... bench press?” Not the best excuse cause, atleast your bestfriend knows you're one hell of a weightlifter. That's also one of the reasons why you're attracted to him. He's like... the level hundred boss of weightlifting, you've seen him do it.

“Oh... why not? Come up here!” his smile as innocent as if he doesn't shoot hearts with it. You watch him fan his sweating face with the loose neck of his tee as he makes his way to the other section. You follow behind, and a mental image of your friend rolling her eyes pops in your mind. Whatever, if you're gonna fuck this up, you're doing it good.

“Have you tried lifting before? I'll recommend squat bar weights for starters...” to which your head shakes fast. “No... I've tried that. I really wanted to try this you know... and... the coaches seem busy” his gaze lowers from your eyes to your subconscious little pout, and he's throwing that smile again. He'll definitely pass as a human golden retriever.

“No worries, I'm not the best teacher but since you're not new we can work it yeah?” he slips behind you, asking in a tone that if you'd try to describe, you'd either be called horny or exaggerating. “Can I touch you? I mean... to guide, you know?” one of his hands hover around your shoulder, to hint you to lay on the low bench. You nod with a smile as the boxes of your criteria fill with check marks. Tall, check. Cute, check. Big and built, check. Humble, check check check.

In seconds, there's a heavy palm on the small of your back guiding you to the long bar while you try looking as inexperienced as possible. You notice he's gentle and careful with details of execution, while fixing your back.

“Now look up at me,” he's instructing, as he looks down at your layed form. The lights above him makes a halo over his head and he smiles down at you. “keep your eyes up, mm?” you nod, suppressed your shy smile with a bit.

“I'm gonna touch your sternum... right here,” a slow poke below your chest that accelerates and stops your clumsy heart at the same time. “bring the barbell down there and then straight up with your arms, can you do that?” with a nod, warm rough palms guide your clammy ones as you lift the weight. “Easy... don't rush” firm.

“Am I being good?” you croak out, immediately clearing your throat. His eyes zero at yours, and he's chuckling. You prey to the gods to not make it seem like some sly innuendo. “You're being good, good girl, you're strong”. Fuels my praise kink, check.

All while you were lost in the abyss of training with your gym crush, you peek sideways when you feel a third presence.

Your bestfriend. Oh, she was late. “Maki... you're late,” The now divided attention causes you to loose your grip, and the barbell is now in the big palms and flexing bisceps of your almighty interest who's looming on the side of your head.

“S-Sorry! My b-”

“Are you distracted? Take a break” surprisingly gentle. A pout forms on your pretty lips. Whines to keep this lil training going are about to fall when your friend looks at you through specs, “What's going on... y/n?” “We're training! She's so good, you know. Almost too good for a starter”

You whip your head the other way when the weired out pretty face of your bestie look at your half-layed form. Don't say it, don't say it. “I thought she knows to lift better than me... what are you learning y/n?” Now, there are two heads looking you down. Never was a time you ever wanted to play dead on the spot as bad.

It's quite comical—and pretty cute if you ask him. Tilting his pink fluffy head, he inspects with a light giggle “Is that so, y/n?” When you turn your head, your eyes land on Maki. Seems like things are finally going down in her brain, and she shrugs away to the treadmills mumbling something along the lines of you being ludicrous. No one's there to save you now, you're by your own with eyes everywhere but on him as you slowly sit up.

“Um- I can explain actually-”

“And it's not another lie?” you stop mid way, thinking about whatever you'd make up as an excuse and it indeed would've been a lie.

Before you burst out of embarrassment or the gym — he snickers as he pinches your cheeks.

“I'd be lying if I say that wasn't adorable,” you look down, licking your dry lips when the little pinch turns your cheeks rosier “but pretty girls don't need antics like that, do they?” You're not even thinking anymore, flushing red and nodding along like a kid. You see him standing up from the bench.

There's a heavy sigh — not out of frustration. “Gym time's over for me I guess... ” he's chewing his lower lip, sliding his phone out subtly. Contemplating something?

“Here... I can teach you some more if you like” he's the one to call you cute? boy should see mirror. you look up at his face and down at his phone twice “oh... OH!” your smaller hands scramble to take the phone, punch your number with shaking fingers.

As you give the phone back, you stand to greet him byes, tucking a few loose strands behind your pink ears. He smiles shyly at your little hand wave, reciprocating as he walks out of the gym lights.

Heartthrob, check!

masterlist !!

p.s. never thought I'll research for a fic XD but yup, i did some. also please do not try this to win a boy lol. annnd likes and rbs are appreciated! hope you enjoyed this <33

tags. @anubisisthebomb @dianagracesworld @4sat0ruu @stellagrangerreads12 @momochina-sama @xxkay15xx @ruins-posts @kxhyuns @cha0thicpisces @robynnnhooddd @megumishousewife @doumaverse @reireyrei @leiahsblog @beccygojo @kvid4t @whodoesthatanymore @pupkashi @swaggygurlbae @k-usuo-saik-i @ladyslayage @kissyhalik

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patacrepe-san · 1 month

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Vaggie Carmine AU part. 1

Okay, I’ve got a lot to get through and not a lot of time so here it goes.

Right after the extermination, Clara and Odette are scouring through the streets, retrieving angelic weapons from sinner’s corpses.

In a back alley, the two sisters stumble upon an unconscious girl clad in Exorcist’s gear, missing an eye and bathing in her own golden blood.

They are puzzled by the sight, not understanding why this angel was left in hell nor how did she get hurt.

They contemplate leaving her like this, but after thinking it through the sisters ultimately decide to make it their mother’s problem and bring Vaggie back to the compound.

Having been in the weapon dealing business for a few cycles, Carmilla is no stranger to unexpected complications. Yet, even she does not know how she’s supposed to react to her daughters bringing back an angel with multiple mortal injuries to her doorstep.

While tending to her wounds, Carmilla notices how messy and bloody the base of Vaggie’s wings are. Whoever tore off this girl’s wings, they clearly enjoyed taking their time doing it.

When she wakes up, Vaggie is confused to see that her injuries have been treated, and she was definitely sure that she lost consciousness in a street and not inside a lavish apartment…

And her ponderings stop when she notices the demon standing in the room, observing her with a cold gaze.

She wants to flee, but she is still way too weak from her injuries and fall flat on the floor as soon as she tries to stand up.

Carmilla makes Vaggie sit on a chair before her desk and boy she has questions!

Vaggie avoids giving too much information, answering Carmilla with short answers like “Yes” or “No”, both out of distrust of the overlord and of lingering loyalty towards Heaven.

Still, Vaggie lets it slip that she can’t go back to Heaven.

Carmilla can feel a headache as she thinks about the situation. If the angel is left alone in hell, she’d forever be a potential threat for all of Hell.

And should an overlord manage to make a deal with her, they’d gain an invincible soldier at their disposal.

After weighing the pros and cons for a few minutes, Carmilla comes up to Vaggie with an ultimatum.

“You have two paths in front of you. The first one, the easy one, is where I kill you here and now. A swift shot through the head with one of my angelic weapons, it will be quick and painless for you. Or you can choose the painful one, and make a deal with me.”

Carmilla snaps her fingers, and a golden contract appears before her.

Carmilla will keep Vaggie’s true nature secret, and provide her with shelter and food for as long as she stays in hell. In exchange, Vaggie will have to work for her and will not be able to go against Carmilla’s commands. Those are the terms of the deal.

Vaggie knows better than making a deal with a demon, but what choice does she have? She picks up the pen.

So at this point Vaggie and Carmilla aren’t exactly fond of each other. They’ll be family one day, but it’ll get worse before it gets better though.

#hazbin hotel #vaggie #carmilla carmine #vaggie hazbin hotel #vaggie carmine #vaggie carmine au #vaggie is a carmine au #headcanons

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whimsyfinny · 3 months

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Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Charlie discovers the Winchester boys to be struggling with keeping the bunker tidy, looking after themselves and being able to do their job simultaneously. Luckily she has a friend who’s from a Hunter family that is in need of work and can help them with research. Or so she thought that’s what her job would be. When Dean sees your more domesticated side, his head won’t stop swimming with all the wrong ideas.

Slow burn, enemies to lovers, smut

Warnings: None (Yet) in chapters to come there will be smut (and lots of it) and possible violence/blood/gore

Chapter Word Count: 1566

—-MDNI—-

A/N: My first Supernatural fic so I hope it doesn’t suck ass. Only proof read by myself, so pls let me know of any errors so I can correct! Also I know at this point in the series Dean is more serious, however I love pre-Hell Dean so imma bring some of those vibes in here. This is also posted on my AO3.

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Please Read the below first:

Prologue

Chapter 1

I’m Not Your F*cking Maid

Chapter 2

The journey to the bunker was pretty uneventful, with Sam and Charlie chatting amongst themselves in the front of the car whilst both myself and Dean sat miserably next to each other in the back like a couple of criminals who’d been arrested. The chains on my handcuffs jangled as I rubbed my sore knuckles; the skin raw, bruised and red from either my own blood or - most likely - Deans. As I did, I could feel a red hot glare burning into the side of my face from the older Winchester, as though he was in disbelief that I even had the audacity to feel any pain or discomfort right now as dark red scabs formed on his nose and cheek. We pulled up next to the bunker, and I didn’t get much chance to look at the surrounding scenery as the moment we were parked, the golden retriever duo up front hopped out, slammed their doors shut and threw ours open, Sam gently yet firmly grasping my elbow and pulling me to my feet whilst Charlie did the same for Dean. We were marched into the building and we soon arrived in what I assumed to be the kitchen. Sam pushed gently on my shoulder, urging me to take a seat at the table to which I obliged with Dean following suit and taking a seat opposite me. We stared each other down from across the table for a few moments, the atmosphere growing thicker by the second as his brilliant green eyes pierced mine.

“Enough the pair of you!” Charlie exclaimed, throwing her hands up. “Look, I’ve got some things to say before we release you both back into the wild. It won’t take long,” she sighed and rubbed her temples. “I wanted to introduce you guys to (Y/n) because I thought you would get along! With your shared interest in hunting, bootcut jeans, rock music and most importantly - pie.”

Dean and I shot each other a quick glance before looking away again. Charlie continued.

“You’ve had one disagreement, and even though I was impressed by the performance it definitely didn’t warrant the carnage. You’re both adults, so act like it and stop bickering like children. You’re going to be living and working together now so you’re both just going to have to suck it up and move on.”

Sam stepped forward; “I agree with Charlie. (Y/n) you have no idea how much of a help you being here is going to be. We’ve been going around in circles for months and we really need a fresh pair of eyes. Plus you get free food and board, if that helps,” he grinned slightly trying to lighten the mood. I humoured him and softened my eyes, raising my eyebrows in acknowledgment to the pros of staying here.

“Right,” he clapped his hands together, “we’re going to remove the tape and you’re both going to be civilised. You promise?”

I gave Dean one final long, hard stare before nodding.

”Good,” Sams soft cool fingers grazed my cheek as he pulled up the corner of the tape, gently peeling it back until it was removed and I could finally take a deep breath. Meanwhile, Charlie approached Dean and in one swift movement ripped the tape from his mouth in under a second.

“FUCK!” He cried out as he tenderly touched his now extra sore swollen lips. I couldn’t help but smirk.

“Right, I’m going to go and get (Y/n)s belongings from the motel room she’s staying in and check her out then I’ll be right back with all her stuff. I’ll see you guys later!” And before I could even protest for her to take me with her, she’d turned on her heel and hightailed it out of the bunker, leaving Sam to undo our cuffs and set us free.

“That bitch,” I sighed, huffing a strand of hair out of my face. Sam knelt before me, that kind look in his eye ever twinkling.

“(Y/n) I promise you that you're safe here. It’s warded to the teeth and full of everything we need to survive. We’ve got you,” he patted my knee before taking my hands in his, using a small key to finally undo the cuffs right before they clattered to the floor. I leant down to pick them up, and by the time I’d sat back up to place them on the kitchen table, he was already beside Dean doing the same for him. His own cuffs removed and rubbing his wrists, he stood, looking from me to Sam a few times before speaking.

“Well I’ve already suffered enough today so I’m going to spend time coming up with a better excuse as to why I look like this,” he gestured to his beaten face and turned to leave, mumbling a quick ‘see ya later’ to Sam before leaving the kitchen. Sam stood awkwardly for a second, before declaring that he was going to get some lunch for everyone and also scurried away, leaving me completely alone in alien territory. I was still sat at the table as I began to look around.

This place was a dump.

How did these grown ass men live in conditions like this? The dirty dishes were piled so high that it was a surprise they hadn’t toppled over yet. Empty beer bottles cluttered the table and countertops, the bin was overflowing with bulging bin bags dumped right next to it without being taken outside and the smell was starting to make me feel a little nauseous. How does Sam expect us all to eat and live together in conditions like this? It was like living with a couple of wild animals. After a few silent moments to myself I released a breath I’d been holding whilst I pondered. I ran my hands through my hair and laughed at myself in disbelief. I’m gonna have to clean the fucking kitchen. Without giving it a second thought and running the risk that I’d change my mind, I scooped my hair into a high ponytail using the bobble on my wrist and pushed up my sleeves, finding a pair of rubber gloves under the sink. Let’s clean this bitch.

In the space of about an hour and a half (a gruelling hour and a half), I’d washed and dried the dishes, putting them away in their respective places, taken out all the trash and lined the bin with a fresh bag, scrubbed and disinfected every surface and had even mopped the floors. The smell of rotting trash was dissipating and the urge to claw off my own skin had gone. I’d propped the mop against the wall and stepped back to admire my hard labour when I heard a door open and close, the entering footsteps heading my way. Sam emerged into the kitchen, a stunned look on his face as he walked to the table slowly, placing about 6 bags of ‘groceries’ on its surface. His mouth opened and closed a few times like he was searching for the right things to say.

“You’re welcome,” I cut in, hoping to help him find his words.

“Yeah, thank you! I’m sorry, I didn't know what to say - you really didn’t have to do this. It’s embarrassing that you were even put in a situation where you felt you had to,” he grimaced a little, only now realising what a horror show it was that they were living in. “But seriously thank you, I really appreciate it,” he smiled and I couldn't help but smile back. Sam was sweet and easy to like - unlike his Neanderthal brother. I felt like I could trust him.

I peeled my gloves off, threw them in the bin and approached the kitchen table where Sam was pulling out a case of beer.

“Here, you deserve one of these,” he said, handing me one. The bottle was nice and cool on my hot fingertips, my warm skin instantly relishing the coldness.

“Thank you,” I smiled before popping the cap and taking a long, well deserved drink. I savoured the moment, genuinely appreciating Sam’s gesture. Although all nice moments comes to an end, and soon Dean was striding into the room bold as brass, seating himself at the table and helping himself to a beer without so much as a hello. It wasn’t until he’d drained half the bottle in one gulp that he realised the kitchen was clean. He grinned and looked at his brother.

“Hey, nice job Sammy! It looks great in here, I owe you one,” he raised his bottle as if making a small toast whilst Sam’s eyes flicked to mine.

“Uh, Dean�� this wasn’t me. You need to thank (Y/n) for that,” Deans grin faulted slightly as he looked between the two of us before it returned. I couldn’t help but raise my eyebrows in suspicion. His forest green eyes pierced into mine as he almost purred his next sentence.

“Well, Sammy, it looks like we’ve bagged ourselves a maid. Does she cook too?”

I slammed my bottle on the table, much like I did earlier. Only Sam flinched.

“I’m not your fucking maid,” I snarled, resenting that shit-eating grin on the older Winchesters lips. He chuckled, the sound coming deep from within his chest as he rose to his feet.

“Sure thing sweetheart.”

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Taglist: @creative-writing92 @suckitands33

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Up Next:

Chapter 3

#dean x female!reader #dean winchester x you smut #dean winchester x reader smut #dean x y/n #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x reader #dean x you #dean x reader #dean winchester #dean winchester smut #dean winchester x female!reader #enemies to lovers #Dean Winchester enemies to lovers #eventual smut #slow burn

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h0e4jongho · 2 months

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Ateez ; Who's a Dom, Sub& Switch

Ateez - Whos a dom, sub, switch and what kind?

A/N : This is a work of fiction and is for entertainment purposes only. This does not reflect on the artists in any what shape or form.

Hoongjoong - Dom

Type : Primal Dom

He’s not part of the demon line for nothing. This man loves theatrics, and nothing gets him off more than having to hunt you. He will chase you through the house just to catch you and fuck you Into oblivion. He will pin you down to whatever surface you two are closest to and pound into you at an ungodly pace. Be ready for hair pulling and being marked to show your his. Hes not a moaner, but the grunts and growls hes going to let out will be enough to get anyone wet. 100% will call you the nastiest things that come to his mind. Aftercare consists of holding you in bed and waiting for you to come down and making sure you dont sub-drop. Contrary to his personality in the bedroom he will wait on you hand and foot after to make sure you are okay.

“Though you could get away from me huh stupid slut. Don’t you know by now this pussy is mine you dumb whore”

Seonghwa - Dom

Type : Mommy/Daddy Dom

He is hard yet caring. You misbehave, you’re getting scolded while being put over his knee while he gives you the spanking of a life time. He will ignore your little please for him to stop until he feels you have learned your lesson. Once hes done hell pull you into his lap wiping your tears asking if your gonna be a good girl now. You’ll get the sweetest smile out of him when you shake your head yes. He will always give you a reward after for taking your punishment so be ready to have him hold your hips while he helps you bounce on his cock. Aftercare KING! He will cuddle the shit out of you, telling you how good you were for him and how much he loves you before helping you into the shower with him and washing you up.

“Being such a good girl for me. Taking daddies cock so well in your tight pussy. So good for me my pretty baby”

San - Switch

Type : Top/Bottom

San see’s you as an equal to him, there fore when it comes to the bedroom it’s all about the current mood both of you are in. Power play’s and roles aren’t something that interest him much. He more cares about giving you what you need in that moment whether that be being the top and pounding you into the mattress or switching It up and letting you have control of the session and toping him. But dont get it wrong he is as kinky as it gets. He has not problem paddling you or letting you tie him to the bed to use as you please. When the scene is done you go back to being equals and are sure to give each other what you need as far as aftercare goes.

“Right there baby, that’s it. Just like that”

Yoesang- Dom

Type : “Pleasure Dom”

This man is a stoic quiet, thinker and very quick witted. He is constantly brainstorming new ways to be able to bring you satisfaction. Things never get old with him. Nothing turns him on more than seeing you writhing in pleasure from something that he’s thought up. He will bring you to the edge one way just to stop you from going over so he can turn around and do it again another way. He gets off getting you off. Man loves his toys and realizes they are a tool to help. He has no problem holding a vibrator to your clit while he pounds into you just to pull it off and pull out right before you climax so he can bring you back to that high again with his fingers. This man strives to make you make a mess. It’s his goal every time. After he’s going to clean up you and whatever surface you were on up before getting you your favorite snack and putting on your favorite movie to watch.

“Oh did you think I was gonna let you cum so easily baby? But your doing so well for me.”

Yunho - Sub

Type : Service Sub

This man’s personality screams golden retriever! He’s all about pleasing you in any and every way he possibly can, and boy can he. Not just in the bedroom either, he loves doing everyday tasks for you like grabbing you coffee to doing the dishes. He takes the time to learn your body in and out. He knows exactly where to touch you and how to have you seeing stars. He will make you lose yourself over and over again. Overstim is one of his favorite things to do. You’re going to have to push his head away from your cunt in the end because he won’t stop. Hearing your praises can make him go for hours, it makes him so happy. After you’ll get some cuddles but his active personality has him on to the next thing if you don’t tell him exactly what to do.

“MM you taste so good, I could do this all day. Does it feel good? Am I being good for you?”

Mingi - Sub

Type : Princess Sub ( pillow princess )

This 6ft mountain of a man is the biggest princess ever. He expects to be pampered and weighted on hand and foot. He will pout and whine until he gets his way. He has slight brat-ish tendencies until he gets his what he wants and in the end he always gets his way. 9 times out of 10 thats with you riding his dick, doing all the work making him feel good. He will make you cum, not because he wants to be nice but because it feels amazing on his cock when your pussy is clenching him. He will demand you suck his cock almost every morning and throw a bit of a tantrum until you have your mouth stuffed with him and his pretty moans are filling the room. He absolutely is not above begging and often does. Afterwords you’re going to have to codle him like there’s no tomorrow. Get him his water and a warm blanket. Come lay down so he can wrap his arms around you and use your chest as pillows.

“Please, more.. Need more from you. Feels so good”

Jongho - Dom

Type : Sadist

Listen man’s knows hes strong and uses it to his advantage. He loves seeing you break down for him. Nothing turns him on more then seeing your teary eyes looking at him and the beautiful marks he leaves on your body. He will man handle you all night long, and bringing you pain brings both of you pleasure. He finds nothing more beautiful then you moaning while shedding tears, his hand around your throat while he bullies your poor pussy. This man is the king of aftercare. He knows what the two of you partake in can leave not just your body but your mind exhausted, so he takes aftercare very seriously. He will first make sure mentally you are in a good space. Once that’s taken care of it’s off to a warm bath where he will wash your hair after tending to any marks that need to be. You then spend the rest of the night wrapped up in this teddy bear’s arms 🧸

“Fuck look how pretty you look. Love marking up your pretty body, letting everyone know who’s little whore you are”

WooYong - Switch

Type : Brat Tammer/Brat

Everyone looks at Woo and see’s the brat, but let’s not forget his “bully” side. He knows how to dish it out there for he knows how to take it as well and give it right back. You want to be a brat for him, mouthing off, no problem he will put you in your place very fast. Like Hwa he has no issue throwing you over his knee and spanking you for acting out. You want to run your mouth? He will have you on your knees and using his cock to bully your throat. At the same time he will be the biggest brat, teasing and poking fun at you till you snap and just take him to get him to shut up. When it’s all said and done he will want you to cuddle him no matter what role he took on.

“Gonna shove this cock down your throat. Doubt you can handle it though, poor little baby cant do a thing right”

#ateez hard thoughts #ateez smut #ateez #hongjoong #seonghwa #yeosang #sanremo #wooyoung #san #mingi #yunho #jongho #ateez x reader #ateez fanfic

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irkimatsu · 1 month

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Can you do a husk x fem reader where she’s also a cat demon (no wings, just cat) yet she’s the epitome of “golden retriever” As if her personality was golden, she’s extroverted and caring and so so bubbly (even more so than Charlie). But then one night, crying is heard from her room and husk hears it and she’s insecure of her body because of how skinny she is?? She has curves yes but that doesn’t make her feel better at all and she’s always comparing herself to others and how she could be better!! It’s just overall angst with fluff please :( 🙏

(Live laugh love you sm !!)

Okay, so, first off, a confession - I am, uh. Not skinny. I am far from skinny, and not only that, I'm in the business of taking skinny characters and chunking them up. Have you seen some of my posts about Overlord Husk?

All that to say that I'm not used to writing skinny characters, and "skinny character insecure about their body" is an absolutely foreign concept to me. I tried my best, though, and I hope I hit the notes with this that you needed!

About 1.5 words. Primarily SFW but Husk gets a little handsy toward the end. One-sided Husk/Angel from Angel's side, but Angel's graceful about it, there's no ship bashing here, I still love Angel and he's still one of Husk's best friends.

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“Husky!”

Husk has barely made it into the hotel lobby, and you’re already clinging to him, your tail wagging furiously.

The tail wagging is strange for your species; you’d reincarnated in hell as a gray tabby cat, a creature known for being moody, standoffish, even a little prissy. But that wasn’t who you were in life, and it’s not how you are in death, either. Husk realized it immediately upon meeting you, and at first he wasn’t a fan of your wild energy, but you managed to grow on the old man’s heart soon enough. He appreciated how young you could make him feel, and how much you reminded him that the best years of his life weren’t as far gone as he thought.

“Hey, hey!” he says, laughing, a far cry from the Husk who would have snapped at you to get off of him a few months ago. “I missed you too, babe!” He gently hugs you back, giving you a couple pats on the back before stepping away. At first you would have been hurt by the lack of enthusiasm, but now you realize that he’s simply not comfortable with too much PDA. He’s perfectly affectionate behind closed doors, and that’s what really matters.

“Damn, I need to find someone who pounces me like that when I get home!” Angel says with a laugh. Shopping bags dangle from all four of his arms, and he’s wearing a pair of sunglasses you don’t think you’ve seen on him before.

“Did you guys enjoy your boys’ day out?” you ask.

“Sure did!” Husk says as he holds up his own, much smaller shopping bag. “Had as much fun as you can when you’re clothes shopping with Angel for three hours, anyway.”

“Don’t act like you didn’t like me showing off outfits for ya,” Angel teases as he sways his hips. “I know you were staring at my ass in every pair of shorts I tried on.”

“What ass?” Husk shoots back with a smile. “Don’t lie to me, you’re flat as the fuckin’ bartop.”

“Hm? I’m sorry, and whose flat ass has been on the cover of every adult magazine in hell, again?” Angel says, swaying his hips further.

“Hey, if the people want flat twinks, then good for them.” Husk returns his attention to you, and sticks his hand in the paper shopping bag. “That shop was real nice, though. I found a couple things for myself, and got you a little somethin’, too.” He digs around for a bit, before pulling out a small jewelry box and handing it to you. “Here. For my golden girl.”

You open the box and gasp at the sight of a golden choker encrusted with diamonds. “Husk! How much was this?!”

“Enough to be worth it,” is all the information he’ll give. “Mind if I put it on you?”

“Go ahead!”

He takes the box back and walks behind you. His claws graze your skin as he fastens the choker around your neck, and your skin prickles.

While he’s behind you, you’re still facing Angel. You bear no ill-will toward the porn star; you admire his confidence, and you know he’s been a good friend to Husk since long before you got here. For as much as they tease each other, Husk does genuinely seem to care about Angel and enjoy his outings with him; he wouldn’t have gone on that shopping trip if he didn’t enjoy the company at least a little, you’re sure. He hasn’t been subtle about his crush on Husk, but he’s also conceded his loss to you with grace, which only makes you appreciate him further. It’s not like Angel can’t provide any competition. Who would turn down the opportunity to date a famous porn star? You’re not even into his works, but even you admit that he’s gorgeous, with his slender build and strong legs.

You’re not built like him at all. He’s skinny in a way he works hard for, making sure every part of his body is proportioned just right for his admirers. He’s not just skinny, he’s healthy, and he glows from it.

Meanwhile, Husk is gently rubbing your bony shoulders, and you can’t help but wonder how he feels about the hard lumps beneath his palms.

“Turn around so I can see it?” he asks. You comply, and he responds with wide eyes and a whistle. “Beautiful.”

You’re not sure if you’re in the right headspace to accept the compliment. “Thanks,” you say anyway.

You spend the rest of the afternoon talking to Husk and Angel about their outing, and trying not to look at Angel too much.

—

Why are you crying about this? This is so stupid. Husk chose you, didn’t he? He met Angel first; if that was what he really wanted, they would have gotten together before you even showed up, wouldn’t they?

So why are you hiding under your blanket, sobbing and clutching your shoulders and wishing you looked like him?

A gentle rapping noise interrupts your self-pity. “Babe? You okay in there?”

“I’m fine!” you call back, despite the tears streaming down your face.

“That didn’t sound fine.” Damn him and his ability to read people. That’s what you get for dating someone who doesn’t like backing down from someone who’s clearly in denial about their own feelings. How dare he care about you like this?

(You’re glad he cares about you. You just wish he’d let you have that denial.)

“I’ll be right there,” you say, knowing he won’t leave now that he’s heard you crying. You untangle yourself from the blanket cocoon you’ve been hiding in, and you go to open the door for him.

“You look like shit,” Husk says as he closes the door behind him. Not the most romantic greeting, but he’s not wrong; your fur is stained with tears, and your makeup is running. Not a good look. “Come here.” He takes your hand, leads you to the bed, and sits you both on the edge of it. “Talk to me.”

You take a few deep breaths to make sure you won’t start sobbing mid-sentence. “Husk? Am I too skinny?”

Husk stares at you, dumbfounded. “Babe. Everyone in this hotel is built like a fucking twig.”

“Yeah, on purpose!” you say. “They don’t have bones sticking out, or sunken faces… they don’t look fucking starved.”

Husk still seems dumbfounded. “Have you looked at me recently?”

You don’t mind giving him a look. His soft fur, unintentionally tousled in such a perfect way, with tufts on his shoulders and chest that are so wonderful to tug. His yellow eyes that currently burn with sarcasm, but that can gaze at you so softly when the mood is right. His generous heart; it’s not something you can see, but you always feel it when you look at him. Whether it’s the choker you still feel around your neck or the time he always gives you no matter the hour of the day, you know he could never feel like he’s given you enough.

“You don’t think I look awful, do you?” Husk says. “You could tell me if you did. I ain’t under any delusion that I’m winning any beauty contests.”

“You look great, Husk!” you insist. “I’ve thought you were handsome ever since I got here.”

“Yeah? You don’t think I look like a withered corpse because I’m regularly too drunk to remember to eat?”

“No!” you say, horrified. “Why would I ever think that?”

“Because it’s true,” he says with a shrug. “I take shitty care of myself, I ain’t denying it. At least you’re tryin’. That’s just what your body looks like. That ain’t your problem.”

“But still…” You pull your legs up to the bed and hug them. “I wish I looked like Angel sometimes… he really likes you, you know.”

Husk snorts. “Yeah. I kinda guessed.”

“You could have been with him before I even got here. Why would you choose me over a gorgeous celebrity like him?”

“You’ve got a certain charm that he doesn’t have. I still like the guy a lot, but we’re just friends. He’s not as kind hearted as you, and he doesn’t appreciate quiet nights in like you do. He needs someone who can keep up with him… and I need someone who can slow down with me. Someone like you.”

At least he loves your personality…

“Plus…” Husk wraps an arm around your waist and squeezes your hip. “I wasn’t kiddin’ when I said he had a flat ass.”

“Husk!” you squeal, his touch tickling your skin.

“Can I be a gross old man for a second?” he says with a smirk. “Because I love curves. Hips and ass are the best. Gives me something to squeeze.” Both of his arms are around you now, and he’s holding you close. “Sure, he’s perfect by some standards, but he ain’t my type. You, on the other hand…” He kisses your forehead and gently strokes your hair. “Don’t change based on what you think I want, okay, doll? I love you just like this.

Comparin’ yourself to others won’t get you anywhere. Just trust that I’m with you because I wanna be.”

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel husk #hazbin husk #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel husk x reader #hazbin husk x reader #irk blubbers about nothing #irk got asked a thing #irk huskposts

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hawkinsbnbg · 7 months

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‪Steve was such an embodiment of a golden retriever that Eddie could hardly hate him even when his Munson Doctrine said otherwise.‬

‪Once Eddie got to know him better, he knew he was done for.‬

‪The guy wasn't only a pretty face and fine muscles, he was also kind and a goddamn sweetheart.‬

‪And Eddie? He was a sucker for Steve Harrington. ‬

‪Had been since high school and never thought he could fall any deeper until Dustin literally force introduced him to Steve who took one look at him and invited him to his house.‬

‪As if they were good friends and not two strangers who had just talked to each other for the first time.‬

‪"We actually talked once before all of this," said Steve absentmindedly as they were chilling out on the lounge chairs by the pool.

‪Sometimes, the night breeze would sail past them and Eddie would be able to smell Steve's citrus cologne mix with the chlorine that came from the pool. ‬

‪Also, he'd never admit that the sight of Steve in that white snug T and those stupid tiny green shorts made him a little bit dizzy.‬

‪"When?" Eddie was bewildered. Because if he had interacted with Steve, then he sure as hell he'd remember it for the rest of his life.‬

‪"On my first year," Steve gave him a meaningful look. "You seemed to hate me a lot the moment we met so I didn't try to approach you anymore."

‪Eddie remembered it now. That day, Steve had come to buy from him but since he didn't sell to underages, he decided to scare the younger boy away and then forgot all about it once he returned to his trailer.

‪Turned out, his tactic worked a little bit too well and now, Eddie finally understood why Steve never came to him and it was always Tommy or Carol's brother instead.‬

‪"Thanks for that anyway," said Steve quietly.‬

‪"For what?" Eddie frowned slightly in confusion.‬

‪"For denying me the weeds," Steve gave him a warm smile. "I had been goaded to buy them from you but now thinking back, I'm glad that I didn't get them. Because I knew the moment I went back with a bag of weeds, those people would encourage me to buy drugs next. It'd go on until they got me addicted and my life would be much more different if I was sent into rehab by my father."‬

‪Though Eddie knew this was what he hoped his little conscience would do to those teenagers, he still didn't expect Steve Harrington of all people to thank him for it.‬

‪And he didn't expect his heart to leap into Steve's hand without his consent, either.‬

‪"It's nothing," Eddie cleared his throat slightly and picked up his beer bottle so he'd have something to do instead of flailing his hands around like an idiot. "It's just one of my rules that I don't sell to underages."‬

‪"And thanks to you, many guys like me can have a better life," Steve raised his beer into the air. "Cheers for Eddie Munson."‬

‪Eddie though blushed at the lovely smile Steve sent him, still held up his bottle and clinked it with Steve's.‬

‪After that night, they started hanging out together more often. Sometimes, it'd be at Steve's place, and some other times, it'd be in Eddie's bedroom at the Munson trailer.

‪Steve even chatted with Wayne about basketball, on which Eddie would never in his wildest dream expect to walk in when he returned from a gig one late night.‬

‪Gradually, it became their thing to spend time together whenever they could.‬

‪Yet, Eddie didn't dare to consider them as anything but friends.‬

‪Sure, they hung out all the time in each other's bedroom, they shared forehead kisses and cuddles, they brushed each other's hair, and they even lived in each other's wardrobe.‬

‪But, clearly, Steve was as straight as a ruler and Eddie wouldn't ruin their friendship just because of his stupid feelings.‬

‪So Eddie did what he thought was the best. He tried to move on.‬

‪But he had failed the moment a random girl walked up to Steve and started flirting with him.‬

‪An ugly thing reared its head inside Eddie and caused him to see Red.‬

‪He just stormed over and pulled Steve away from that girl, out of the bar, and into the back of his van without much thought for the consequences.‬

‪Fuck the consequences. Because Steve was his and his alone. Anyone could fuck off.‬

‪"Eds? Did something happen? Are you okay?" Steve looked at him in concern.‬

‪That got an amused huff out of Eddie. Of course, his sweetheart would worry about everyone but himself.‬

‪"No, I'm okay," he took in a deep breath to calm down. Then, he met those hazel eyes and decided to be honest for once. "I was just jealous."‬

‪"Of who?" Steve’s brows pinched in bafflement.‬

‪"Of that girl," Eddie licked his dry lips and watched Steve's gaze flick down to them before meeting his eyes again.‬

‪"Why?"‬

‪"Why?" Eddie parroted back before giving out the answer that had been locked inside him for years. "Because I like you, Steve."‬

‪"Oh," Steve breathed out.‬

‪"Yeah," Eddie snorted bitterly and braced himself for the imminent heartbreak. ‬

‪He waited for Steve to either turn him down gently or punch him in the face for taking advantage of their friendship for his greed and selfishness.‬

‪He knew Steve would never do that. But it'd hurt far worse if Steve got upset enough with him to resort to pure violence.‬

‪Instead, all Steve did was ask with a raised eyebrow, "So are you gonna kiss me now or do I need to do it first?"‬

‪Eddie didn't need to be told twice to cup Steve's face and lock their lips together.‬

‪This could be another good dream for all he cared.‬

‪For now, Eddie didn't want to drown himself in yet another existential crisis until he was done making out with his darling.‬

‪Until they stumbled into Steve's bed, until Eddie was permitted to do everything to the other man, including blowing his back out that he knew it wasn't a dream. Because Eddie never made it this far in his dreams before.‬

‪"So are we boyfriends now?" Eddie asked again just to make sure as he cuddled and shared lazy kisses with an adorably sleepy Steve.‬

‪"Mhm," Steve hummed under his breath, all rosy cheeks and blissed out.‬

‪"Just so you know," Eddie traced his forefinger on the soft outline of Steve's chin. "You're gonna be stuck with me for a very long time and even if you try to kick me away, I'd find a way to get back to you."‬

‪"That sounds perfect to me," Steve yawned and snuggled up to him.‬

‪"Yeah?" Eddie tightened his arms around Steve.‬

‪"Uh-huh," Steve planted a small kiss on his jaw. "We're in this together now. And you're gonna see how clingy I am very soon. Just don't regret it, Munson."‬

‪"I'd never, sweetheart," Eddie whispered back and gave his lovely boyfriend another smooch on his forehead.‬

‪As Eddie slowly drifted off, he just knew he was the world's happiest and luckiest man to have Steve in his life.

‪And that was a blessing he'd never take for granted.‬

#steddie #idiots in love #possessive eddie munson #steve harrington is a sweetheart #steddie fluff #ficlet #sionewrites

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 4 months

Note

AITA for arguing with someone over ships?

🧀⛵ so i can find this later

Yes, this is ship discourse AITA #294729472 you can scroll away, english isn't my first language, my apologies.

So I (16M (But 13-14 at the time)) am in a very niche fandom. As in, we didn't have any new content for the past 5 years and media is old af (2013), very few fans, most of us know each other already.

I used to have these mutuals Cheese (Not their real name) (around my age i think?? I can't remember) and Breadstick (Not his real name) (18M).

We all had our little ships, ok? I like the little (dumbass golden retriever boy) x (badass traumatized man) ship, Cheese liked the little (badass traumatized man) x (literally the same thing but evil and abusive) and Breadstick liked both ships.

I met Breadstick before meeting Cheese so we were already friends before i met Cheese. I thought "Cool, another person likes this little niche thing i'm hyperfixated on!" So we became mutuals.

I didn't anticipate that we would argue about ships, but oh well. So, i'm a very chill person regarding ships, literally any, although i do have NOTPs, i'm not really toxic about my hatred, i just go "Ah, not my thing" and scroll away not without blocking the person, but really nothing personal and no hard feelings, i can perfectly be friends with someone who loves my notp.

In fact, that was the case with Cheese. They shipped my NOTP, like A LOT. But I was okay with it, i mean these are just characters and all we're doing is being silly. I didn't take this THAT seriously. However, when I seemed to talk about my ship, Cheese seemed uncomfortable in some way.

When I was talking about my fankid (call me cringe idc) of my OTP, Cheese got very confused and asked who was i talking about. Breadstick came in and introduced my fankid to them, since he knew about it before. Cheese just started being rude, literally saying swear words (Not against them but, the context didn't really call for it? No one was being mean or mad), saying, and i quote as best as i can, "I don't know what the fuck made you think i knew who the hell [Fankid] was".

I got very mad about it, so i privately dm'ed Breadstick about Cheese's attitude. We began trash talking about them, which, i admit was a very trashy thing to do and definitely asshole material™.

Reason why may i be the asshole: over time, Breadstick just started complaining a lot about Cheese, and I could honestly agree, it came to the point of us disliking them to some degree but not telling them and not breaking the mutual, that could be considered two faced behavior.

This was partly influenced because of another incident. So Cheese and Breadstick where rambling about an OT3 (3 person ship) they had in common, basically sharing ideas and stuff. I thought it would be fun and went "Hey, I have an OT3 too, maybe i should post about it too". So I went and posted about it, but Cheese felt very uncomfortable with that, since basically my OT3 was exactly like Cheese's OT3 but one character is different, "basically".

They said "You have your thing, let US have ours". Felt bad and honestly, maybe i shouldn't have intruded their ot3 rambling. I didn't expect such negative reaction out of them.

In other occasions they complained about me posting a little too much about my ship, even though they did the same thing with theirs. And they also had a mutual that said "If you ship [this character] you suck and i fucking hate you. [character] is too abusive to be shipped with anyone and you can't just make an AU, that would just change him as a character completely" which, dear god, that language wasn't needed, right?. And despite that crazy person saying that, Cheese agreed with their take, despite literally shipping the character in question with another one. And abusively too, which like you do you, lord knows i do that too, but agreeing with a take like that while doing exactly what it is complaining about is weird. On the other side, that person wasn't my mutual, so it's unrealistic of me to expect Cheese to control their mutuals over me, Cheese can mutual whoever they want, but i can still be weirded out right?

That is without including them telling other people to kill themselves over shipping, so it was clear that Cheese took this shipping thing seriously while me and Breadstick to some degree didn't. Honestly another reason why i might be an asshole, clearly they felt their otp was personal and me not liking it + ignoring it caused a bad environment, mala mía, but what else could i have done?

So, clearly Cheese is kind of an asshole to some degree. But i think what makes ME an asshole too is when I trash talked behind their back and cut them off way later than i should've. And also, i guess i shoved my ship down their throat taking by how mad they were about it? I didn't do it intentionally though and i could definitely say they did the same thing too when 80% of the fandom and character tags was them posting about their ship. Again, small niche fandom for old unpopular media, we are keeping it alive ourselves.

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole #ship discourse #posts that make me crave one of those lil cheese dip breadstick snack packs #which i have not eaten in roughly uhhhh at least a decade and a half #but the taste. you never forget that taste

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softlyspector · 2 years

Text

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.

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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seungkwansphd · 2 years

Text

edward scissorhands

pairing: jun x reader wordcount: 3.6k summary: you can only describe your best friend Jun’s halloween costume as a yassified edward scissorhands. and you want him...BADLY? no...no that simply can’t be right. genre/themes: smut, lazy & hurried plot, best friends to lovers, reader is DROWNING IN THE NILE. limbo jun, croptop jun, repressed angst?, soft post sex feels, dom/brat vibes. once again instigator/facilitator minghao.

a/n: idk...i went feral & wrote this in a fury. enjoy!

“Are you sure about this?” Jun couldn’t help the blush that had crept up his face as Minghao made last minute alterations to his Halloween costume.

“Yes, very,” Minghao peered over his glasses at his longtime friend.

“I just-,” Jun looked at himself critically in the mirror. “I don’t think this is what YN had in mind when they said I should dress up as Edward Scissorhands for Halloween.

“No, I don’t imagine it was. But I am also unwilling to listen to you gripe even one more time about being single and this will certainly do the trick.”

“My whole stomach is out!” Jun almost shouted at his friend, gesturing at his torso animatedly.

“Your abs are out,” Minghao corrected, “You have a great physique, you may as well use it to your advantage.”

“I’m-,” Jun grumbled.

“I already cut the fabric off and I won’t be bothered to put it back on,” Minghao cut him off impatiently.

Minghao was so incredibly tired of listening to Jun’s whining about being single when what he really wanted was you. He was also tired of your endless moping over how all of your moody, emo dates were emotionally unavailable when what you really needed, but couldn’t see or wouldn’t accept, was your golden retriever boyfriend Jun. It was time to put his apparel design skills to task.

“Well, you’re not my type,” Minghao let out a low whistle as he patted himself on the back, “But this is one eye catching costume.”

Jun had to agree. One could describe it as a yassified abstraction of Edward Scissorhands. The now cropped pleather jacket and shirt showcased the hard planes of his abdomen prominently. His blonde hair had grown out slightly and, once styled, would hang over his smudged, black eye makeup. It was a stark contrast to his usual appearance, but it was Halloween after all. If Minghao needed a creative project, who was he to say no?

…

“Explain to me, one more time please, what your costume is?” Lena furrowed her brows at you as she took in your fairly plain makeup and white dress.

You huffed. Yes alone, you did look unremarkable in your Kim Boggs costume, but as soon as Jun arrived as Edward Scissorhands it would make a lot more sense.

“I’m Kim Boggs!” you wanted to yell. Why did nobody get your fantastic Tim Burton reference? And where the hell was Jun? “The girl from Edward Scissorhands.”

“So where is your Edward Scissorhands? Did you do half of a couples costume by yourself?”

“I don’t know where the hell Jun is! We were supposed to come together, but at the last minute he said Minghao needed some help or something. He should be here soon, I hope.”

“Wait, are you and Jun finally together?” Lena asked excitedly.

“What? No! Are you crazy?” you stuttered, giving her a confused look. “Jun is my best friend, hell no we did not get together!”

“Really?” Lena shook her head, confused. “So then why the couples' costume?”

“Who else was going to be my Edward Scissorhands? Minghao said it was too tacky, not his style. And I don’t really have a lot of other options as the dating has not gone well.”

“Oh no? Why’s that?”

“I guess my type…is emotionally unavailable,” you huffed, taking a sip of your drink. You didn’t want to go too into detail, as you knew it would make you moody and you still had hopes of enjoying the party. “It’s just…not going to plan, you could say.”

“Hm, is there a chance that you would go for a different type of person?” Lena shrugged. She knew your penchant for a dark haired, skinny, and moody boy, but had always wondered if someone more straightforward, easygoing, and funny might be more your speed.

“I-...” you trailed off, brain malfunctioning severely after your eyes flew to the door. Jun had arrived.

“You…?” Lena tried to follow your incomplete train of thought before realizing your attention had been sucked completely elsewhere. She followed your gaze and could not help the shit eating grin that spread across her lips as she realized what…or better said, who you were staring at. “Hello, Earth to YN!” she laughed, tapping you on the forehead gently to get your attention back.

“Huh? Sorry, what were you saying?” you asked her. You blinked as you tried to understand what had just happened, but your mind was painfully devoid of thoughts.

“I was saying, you might want to think about branching outside of your normal type? When it comes to dating. You never know what might tickle your fancy, if you give it a shot.”

“Yeah…,” you nodded, clearly not listening as Jun finally spotted you.

You had no earthly explanation as to why, but your heart started pounding erratically as he fixed his sulky, smudged gaze on you and approached. It might’ve just been the boots, but something about his walk was even distracting to you. Slower than usual, somehow more deliberate, and very different from your typically eager best friend.

“There you are,” his dark facade cracked into a bright smile as he looped his arm around your shoulder happily. “Sorry I’m late. Costuming emergency.”

“I see,” you mumbled, unable to tear your eyes away from your friend’s abs. “Did Minghao just chop off half of your costume or what?”

“More like a quarter, but yea. He said he was taking over creative control.”

“Ah,” you nodded. You knew you were staring, but somehow looking at his abs seemed more appealing and attainable than staring at his face.

“YN!” Minghao popped up, dressed as a very impressive Jack Skellington.

“Oh my god!” you screamed excitedly at his costume. “Hao you look amazing!” you pressed up onto your toes to get a closer look at his face paint. “Wow, amazing!”

“Thank you,” Minghao nodded surely. He had done a fantastic job with his costume, indeed.

“I look so boring between you two,” you pouted slightly, pointedly avoiding looking at Jun.

“You’re the one who wanted to be Kim Boggs.”

“Yes, but if I’d known you were going to make Jun’s costume slutty, I would’ve done that too! This costume is canonically accurate, so now I just look plain.”

“What are you talking about? I don’t look slutty!” Jun protested, flushing.

“J-just with your little waist out like that? A-and your makeup all sexy?” you stuttered, filter completely abandoned at this point.

You could feel Lena and Minghao smirking so painfully smugly at you as Jun looked slightly bewildered at your outburst.

“Nothing. It’s fine!” you shrugged, needing to go outside and clear your mind. “I’ll be back, Jun-bug,” summoning a decades-old nickname to try and remind yourself that this was your friend.

“You better get it together, you dumbass,” you chastised yourself as you paced back and forth.

How embarrassing it was to be having this sort of reaction to Jun, of all people. Were you really so shallow that all it took was some pleather costuming and smudged eye makeup to go feral for someone who was decidedly not your type? You kicked yourself for ever suggesting this costume to Jun.

After a few more minutes of muttering, you felt like you could return. Sucking in a deep breath, you pulled open the door just to have to shut it again.

“Absolutely not,” you shook your head, trying to wipe the image of Jun engaging all of his core muscles for a game of limbo from your mind. Nope. Outside was great.

You took a seat on a bench near the fire to collect yourself for a second time. Why on earth was this happening to you? This was Jun for god sakes! You’d drank hand sanitizer in middle school with this man. You’d been the one to teach him, woefully recently, that females have three holes and not two. God damn it.

“YN!” your name shocked you out of your stupor. You groaned slightly, seeing Jun approach you with some concern in his face.

“Are you okay? You’ve been out here for a long time. Did you drink too much already? You’re supposed to be my beer pong partner.”

You smiled with relief. This was the Jun you knew, chattering on without a care. You could hide this from him if you wanted to.

“I’m okay,” you answered, smiling nervously up at him. “I’m just distracted, I guess.”

“Oh, by what? Are you that upset that I changed my costume? Minghao, he just-”

“No, it’s not that,” you laughed. Jun had always had a talent for getting so painfully close to the point and just barely missing.

“So what is it?” He fixed a serious look at you.

You swallowed under his tense gaze. You could feel your body reacting, wanting to look so disrespectfully at your friend.

“You?” you all but whimpered, gaze back on his abs, when you answered.

“Me?” Jun was confused, following your line of vision to his own torso. His heart pounded in his ears. In all your years of friendship, despite his secret wishes, you’d never looked at him like this. He’d buried it over time, but seeing you look up at him, your expression a mixture of disbelief and desire knocked his old crush loose again way too easily.

“What, cause I’m dressed like this you want me to be mean to you, like those guys you’ve been dating?” Jun asked, more than slightly bitter.

“Huh?” your face screwed up in confusion. His jealousy was easy to clock, but the way your breath grew shallow at Jun’s harsh words was bewildering.

“You’re acting like you’ve never seen me shirtless before,” Jun chuckled, ego swelling at the way you reacted.

“Jun,” you squeaked as he pulled you onto your feet.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” he asked. He was genuinely curious now.

“I-…want you,” you sighed.

“Me? Or just this version of me?” he needed to know.

“I don’t know!” you stamped your foot, genuinely frustrated at this tangled ball of feelings that had shown up suddenly.

“Hey, hey!” Jun suddenly snapped back to reality, seeing the distress on your face, “I’m just teasing, you’re so easy to rile up,” he tried to play it off, cupping the sides of your face in his large hands.

“Not funny,” you sigh, heart still pounding. Your skin prickled at Jun’s comforting touch and it was like the last piece of your brain suddenly clicked into place. “I want you,” you blurt out.

“I said I was just teasing,” Jun rebuts instinctively.

“I don’t-, I’m not,” you shake your head firmly. “Please?”

Jun folds. Almost before you can even complete your soft request, he lowers his face to yours and kisses you firmly. You moan into his mouth as he pulls you against him, your soft curves molding against his hard musculature.

“Will you take me home?” you murmur against his lips and Jun doesn’t have to think twice. He picks you up and carries you to his car, sending Minghao a brief and apologetic text before driving away.

“You know, we don’t have to,” Jun offers as soon as you enter his apartment.

“I want to,” you pout, his kindness making your chest tighten.

“You just want me for my slutty waist,” Jun laughs, catching your eyes on his abs again.

“Maybe,” you look away indignantly.

“C’mere,” Jun beckons you. You walk towards him and he surprises you by grabbing you by the wrists and placing your hands on his torso. “Look any harder and your eyeballs will fall out.”

“Jun!” you flush at his teasing, but your hands explore anyway.

“You’re cute when I tease you,” he laughs darkly in your ear. Who knew Jun had this side to him.

“Junie,” you squeak as his fingertips dig into your hips and you gush for him. “Bed, now.”

“Yes, princess,” he nods, hauling you onto his hip to carry you into his bedroom. You melt a little bit, hearing his nickname for you in this context. “That works for you, huh?” he chuckled, picking up on your soft sigh before setting you down.

“Seems so,” you blush furiously. Juns blonde hair hangs in his eyes as he looks down at you. The jacket makes his already tall frame look even larger and more looming than usual. “Fuck,” you squeak, thighs pressing together.

“Uh uh, open,” Jun tuts, sliding a hand between your knees to press you open. “Oh,” he grins wolfishly as his fingertips discover your telling wetness.

You let out a strangled sigh and it goes right to his head. While Jun was doing a pretty good job of keeping his cool and staying in character for you, he was freaking out internally. He would go straight to hell for lying if he ever said he’d never pictured you in his bed before, but to have you here and now was another thing completely.

“Junie, you okay?” you looked up at him with concern as he was deep in thought. “We don’t have to, if you’re having second thoughts.”

“Are you kidding me?” Jun snapped out of it, looking at you as if you’d grown a second head. “I’ve been waiting for you to be ready for this for years,” he laughs darkly before pressing his palm against you, hard.

“Ah!” you cry out, unable to process his confession as he barreled past it. “Jun!” you gasped, squirming at his precise pressure.

“Stay still, kitten,” he grumbled, his left hand coming up to grab you firmly, just under the jaw.

You buckled. You folded. You melted against him with a fluttery ‘hmm’, grabbing at his jacket weakly for support.

“Just like that?” your best friend chuckled, pressing a kiss to your temple before stepping back. “You’re too easy.”

A soft laugh of disbelief is all you can manage as you watch Jun shrug off his jacket. Your brain is addled with a bunch of realizations that threaten to solidify, so you shake your head, putting that off for just a while longer.

“Jun, come here,” you pout, pulling him towards you by his belt loops. You press soft kisses against his exposed abs and along his waistband, palming him through his pants.

“Fuck,” he hissed, growing weak at the knees. His hand threads through your hair, applying gentle pressure.

“Can I suck you off?” you asked politely, fingertips resting at his belt buckle.

“Go ahead,” he responded cooly, even though he felt like his head was going to catch fire.

You hummed excitedly as you undid the buckle. The plasticky material crinkled loudly as you pulled it down, but you managed to unleash Jun’s proud erection. Grasping him at the base, you wasted no time and slid your lips over him. Groaning appreciatively at the way he filled your mouth up, you worked up and down at a medium pace. A bubble of pride rose in your chest at the strangled sounds that Jun made.

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” Jun groaned, eyes rolling back into his head. “Of course you give immaculate head too.”

A baffled smile curled onto your lips as you processed Jun’s compliment. Immaculate? He really knew how to hit you right in the praise kink.

“Juuuuun,” you pulled back to whine impatiently. “I want to ride you.”

“By all means, go ahead,” Jun laughed, shucking his pants off and laying back on the bed.

You had planned to undress as well, but seeing Jun laid back with his erection jutting proudly upwards was completely derailing and you found yourself climbing onto him, the front of your dress gaping wildly open to favor him an unobstructed view of your breasts.

“You look a mess,” he laughed, somehow both derisive and affectionate. “You want me that badly?”

“I-I don’t like this side of you,” you lied, flushing bright red and refusing to answer his question.

“Liar,” he chuckled, palming your breasts firmly before he reached up, hooking his hand around the back of your neck, pulling your face down to his. “If you want to ride my cock, which you obviously do, I want to hear you say it.”

Jun almost felt mean, but the way your pupils dilated reassured him. Your lips pursed slightly and you thought about punching him before you gave in.

“I want you,” you admitted reluctantly. “I want you to split me in half, Jun,” you admitted, head hanging in shame at the words you’d just said out loud.

“Oh? I mean go ahead,” Jun nodded, eyes wide.

You moved with embarrassing speed, reaching down to slide him into you. You’re a little surprised at the size, but your toes curled at the sensation of having to slide down slowly and stretch around him. You let out a sigh when you bottomed out, letting out a breath you hadn’t been aware you’d been holding.

“You’re so tiny,” Jun pants, grabbing at the front of your dress as he rolled his hips.

“I hate you,” you squeak as he thrust into you, deep and full.

“Yes, I can see that,” he rolled his eyes at your bratty display. “Do you usually cream on everyone that you hate? Or just me?”

“Jun!” you gasped, scandalized and reeling. You looked away, trying to hide your blush, but Jun had other ideas.

“Look at me when I’m fucking you,” he demanded, grabbing your chin and turning your eyes back towards him. His index and pointer finger slid into your open mouth and he stroked impossibly deeper into you as your lips closed around him.

Your expression grew frantic as you spasmed around him. You wanted to say something, to warn him, but your mouth was full. Jun can read your cues too well, though, and he grins encouragingly up at you as you come apart around him, the ball of flames in the pit of your belly ripping through you.

“Wen Junhui,” you narrow your eyes at him after you’re finally able to catch your breath. “What the hell was that?”

“What? You didn’t like it?” he played with your hair as you laid across his chest.

“No, it’s not that,” you shake your head furiously.

Truth be told, you were having trouble pinpointing exactly what your hang up was. It certainly wasn’t that you hadn’t enjoyed it. And sure, you’d wondered in passing about what it might be like to date Jun, but you wondered that about everyone so you’d never thought that much about it.

“Talk it out with me,” he suggested, like he always did when you were confused or conflicted.

“I’ll try,” you huffed, forcing your thoughts into coherency. “Well, one. I didn’t think that was ever going to happen, so I’m kind of in shock. Two, I don’t understand how you seem to have crawled into my brain to know all the right buttons to press. And three, I’m just kind of annoyed that I’m so blindsided by it? Like were there no indications for me that you have this side to you?”

Jun laughed, propping your chin up with his palm.

“Well, to your first point, I’ve probably thought about this enough times to make up for you threefold. Two: I’m your best friend? I know so much about you, is it a surprise that I can infer some of your sexual preferences? You're not exactly subtle, you’re kind of bratty as a friend too.”

You opened your mouth in protest at this statement and Jun cut you off with a pointed ‘see?’ look.

“And to your last point…at least part of it is that I didn’t want you to know.”

“Why?”

“Cause I was so hopelessly smitten over you for a while and I wanted you to feel the same about me. But the whole me, not just that side of me. And then I just got used to it, I guess.”

Your eyes swum at this statement. You were speechless.

“Hey, we’re okay right? I'm still your Jun,” he squeezed your cheeks nervously.

“It’s just-, I mean,” you tried several times to start your answer before succeeding. “It’s very difficult to reconcile the person I just had sex with and my best friend. But yes. You are my Jun. It’ll just take some getting used to,” you nodded.

Jun’s eyebrows raised.

“Inch-resting,” he stroked an invisible mustache as he waggled his eyebrows at you playfully. “So you’re saying we’ll be doing this again?”

“Wen Junhui, I really do hate you!” you pinched him in the side. He was such a good goddamn goofball and it was one of the things you loved most about him.

“No you don’t,” he laughed, rolling over so that he was laying on you. He wasn’t heavy, more like a human weighted blanket. “Ow my balls,” he winced before readjusting so that his thick erection nestled between your thighs.

“Y-you’re doing this on purpose,” you narrowed your eyes at him, the heavy heat of him making you feel melty again.

“Uh duh! I told you, I’ve been waiting for this for years,” he looked meaningfully into your eyes.

You had fully melted now. You kicked yourself for not seeing things more clearly and sooner, but Jun didn’t let you wallow for too long. He was right, you had a lot of lost time to make up for!

#jun smut #junhui smut #jun fanfic #junhui fanfic #svt smut #svt fanfic #jun imagines #jun scenarios #junhui imagines #junhui scenarios #seventeen fanfic #seungkwansphd:writes #jun x reader #junhui x reader #seventeen smut

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thesupreme316 · 8 months

Note

nick wayne x female reader??? just cute young couple shit please 🥺❤️

What It's Like Dating Nick Wayne (in my mind): Nick Wayne x Reader

Summary: A glimpse of dating Nick Wayne...

Word Count: 600

Supreme Speaks: DOUBLE UPLOAD HOES! Anyways, thank you to @hooks-martin for the request (sorry it took so long). Im doing a throwback to one of my first headcanon posts on here. please remember that you are loved and appreciated.

Warnings: none, not really proofread, fluffly boi

Taglist: @hooks-martin @wwenhlimagines @sheinthatfandom @cassie0sstuff

Okay so check it

This man is a sweetheart (I get big golden retriever vibes from him)

He’s constantly all over the place; just skipping around everywhere

He’s literally so sweet omg like I think he would just admire (stare) you and wonder how he got you to go out with him

Nick only looks at you with heart eyes

I think you would be his first real and serious relationship

Puts pressure on himself to do everything perfectly (tries too hard to be cool)

Plans all your dates to a T, if something goes wrong, he will blame himself to no end

“Nick, baby, it’s fine the collage is grea-“

“I’m a failure…I should have used hot glue instead of sticks”

As the two of you get more serious, dates will be at comfortable locations like at his or your house for movie nights or go to the park for a walk at night

Nick would finally understand that he doesn’t have to try so hard to impress or amaze you

Now he can just literally sit in a room and stare at you for hours and he’ll call that date (as long as you’re together)

But he would love to drag you to different places (especially to Walmart at 12 AM)

HE HAS A HIGHLIGHT STORY ON INSTAGRAM JUST FILLED WITH PICTURES OF YOU

Ranging from pictures of you two kissing or on dates to candid photos of you asleep…he has a big collection of those

Before you ask…NO…he does not do matching outfits or color schemes (unless it is all white or black)

He just finds them cringy

I can see Nick just giving you random things; little trinkets, presents, clothes, food, and things that you need

He’ll notice that you’re running low on something and just go out to purchase it

“How did you know I needed more toothpaste?”

“Well, I accidentally stepped on it and all of it came out…I also bought more mouthwash cause I accidentally spilled it.”

That man is a klutz outside the damn ring I promise you

Is a sucker for homemade items

If you made him a bracelet, he’ll wear it. If you painted him a picture, it’s up in his living the same day.

HIS LOVE LANGUAGES ARE PHYSICAL TOUCH AND QUALITY TIME AND GIFT-GIVING

Has to be touching you in some way (arm, neck, back, hell just holding pinkies will suffice for him)

Allows you to drag him around the store/mall

Nick will just grab you and bury his face into your neck

“Is this a new perfume?”

Notices little things that most people wouldn’t (like your hair parting, your scent, how you chew your food, angry habits)

Loves to see you in his clothes; is perfectly okay with you stealing everything he has

Is the type of spray his cologne on it as he feels like it really makes him claim you

If you’re a wrestler, he will practice with you…he just doesn’t trust anyone to treat you with care and respect

If not, you’re getting suplexed one way or another….be on a constant lookout

He doesn’t get mad at you…never…

If he does, he quietly and calmly talks about his problem…he will never raise his voice at you

Overall, having Nick Wayne as your boyfriend will never have a dull moment as you are constantly entertained and loved.

#aew #all elite wrestling #aew imagine #aew headcanon #nick wayne #aew nick wayne #nick wayne x reader #nick wayne imagine #nick wayne headcanon

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espinosaurusrexex · 2 years

Text

Talk

Neighbor!SteveRogers x female!reader

summary: You like Steve. And, actually, Steve likes you too. But for some reason, you are convinced that he doesn’t. So after you come home one night, drunk off your ass might I add, and freshly stood up by one asshat of a Tinder date, Steve can’t help but confront you about it. And just to make sure you understand his intentions, he has to show you how he really feels.

a/n: So I finally did it, I tried something new... 🫢 I really don’t know what to think about it and I would GREATLY appreciate feedback on this one.

This is basically how I imagine America's golden boy having sex. Say what you want, but he's a softie.

word count: 4.1k

warnings: alcohol consumption, slight angst, swearwords, fluff, smut (you can just read until the second “—“ and the story will still make perfect sense if you don’t wanna read that sort of thing) !MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

･ﾟ✫* 𝒎𝒂𝒊𝒏 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 ｡✭･ﾟ✶ 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐨𝐧 𝐀𝐎𝟑 ✧*･ﾟ

"Fuck." You bumped against the door as your keys fell to your feet. There was no way you were going to open your apartment with all these freaking keys on your keychain. Why were there so many? What the fuck did you need so many keys for?

"Shhhhh," you whispered to the items that would hopefully unlock your comfortable bed when you heard your neighbor rattling behind his door.

Apartment 25A. You didn't need him to see you like this now. He'd probably be worried by all the noise you made at one in the morning. And then you’d have to tell him what happened.

Aaaaand you were right:

"Are you okay?" A deep voice hushed through the hallway as you bent down to retrieve the keys from the floor. When you stood up again, there was a handsome blonde leaning on his doorway, his face partly hidden by the wooden frame.

"I'm fine, Steve,” you hiccuped, “go back to bed.”

"Are you sure?”

“Yes."

Maybe going out on a Thursday night had not been the greatest idea, but really it seemed like the only solution to your problem about 4 hours ago. And about 2 hours ago, you were convinced that this was, in fact, the best plan you’d ever had as you told the whole nightclub while sweatily dancing your breath away on the run-down dance floor.

*clunk* you missed the hole again, scratching the door slightly.

“Fucking hell...” You muttered under your breath as you leaned your head against the wood to be able to use both hands for the key.

Yep, definitely not that great of a plan if it would end with your having to sleep out in the hall. Well, at least you had a great time for about 1 hour. You’d have to remind yourself of that when you would wake up with a pounding headache tomorrow.

“Here,” Steve said as he approached you. Oh, that's right, he was still here.

He took the chain from your hand gently and looped his arm around your waist to hold you steady. It took him a while to find the right key, but when he finally opened the door with his left hand, you had almost fallen asleep standing up, with your head on his shoulder. Why did he have to smell so good? That was just unfair.

“I don’t need your help.” You mumbled as the both of you tumbled over the threshold.

“Sure you don’t.”

He watched as you desperately tried to unzip your dress. But the zippy thing was too tiny. Why did they make those so tiny? This was impossible. Nobody would be able to open that. Why did you even choose it? That asshole who had stood you up didn’t even deserve to see you in that skin-tight number, and now you even had the trouble.

“Stop looking.” You fell over your shoes with your hands behind your back.

“I’m not looking.” His arms crossed before his chest, Steve frowned.

“Then stop scolding me.”

“I’m not.” He totally was. He was judging you for being drunk. You didn’t like it. Especially because this was all his fault. If he just weren’t so perfect, all of this could have been avoided. But, no. Mr. Golden boy had to go and mess it all up.

“I can do this on my own.”

“Yeah, I can see that,” he scoffed.

Of course, deep down you knew that this was probably a really unreasonable approach to the situation but that didn’t change the fact that you were still hurt. And, well, Steve was here and he was partly a reason for this hurt - so he had to take the blame for tonight.

“Why don’t you just let me help you?” You didn’t need his perfect stupid hands on your body. And you certainly didn’t need his hot breath on your skin while he unzipped that damn dress, either.

“Because I don’t need you!” Your hands fell to the side, your eyes focused on Steve as you struggled to ignore the burning in your eyes.

“I don’t need you...” You whispered.

“You said that already.” What was that? A fast glimmer swooshed through his stare. Almost unnoticeable if you hadn’t already looked at him.

“Well, good.” There it was again. Was that... hurt?

His shoulders slumped. “I’m gonna go then.”

You didn’t reply, just turned away and headed to the bedroom before you could hear the door close. Silently, of course, Steve didn’t want to wake the neighbors.

—

It was 6pm. 6pm and you still hadn’t knocked at his door. You had come home by now - walked by his door twice. You walked past twice and you didn’t check in. He had left the mail purposely but you didn’t check in. What had happened last night? Steve couldn’t deny that your encounter had pulled on his heart. Something must have happened. He’d seen it in your eyes last night. The hurt, the hopelessness, the acceptance of pain. They were slightly dull when you had looked at him through the haze. And even though your eyelids had covered most of that beautiful y/e/c, Steve felt the emotions settled within a hundred times more intense.

Steve looked at the clock again: 6:02pm. His leg bounced nervously while his hands clawed into the armrest.

He had to know. He had to ask even if it was the stupidest thing he’d ever done. You obviously didn’t want to see him, but he had to at least know why.

So, sure enough, about one minute later, Steve was standing in front of your door, hand knocking on the wood like a maniac.

Muffled rumbling pushed through the barrier. “I’m coming, I’m coming!”

And when the door finally opened, Steve was met with your annoyed face that vastly turned into a hard stare once you recognized him.

Before you could say anything he brushed past you, settling in the same spot he had the night before. “Why would you say that?”

“What do you mean?” Frustration laced the air as you stared at him from the doorway, your hand still clutched on the knob.

“Why are you so...” His hands flailed in the air. “One day you ask me to hang out and the next I get the cold shoulder. One day I get spare cookies and the next I'm not allowed to help you open your door. What... what?”

“Why do you even care, Steve?” You closed the door.

“Why do I care? Are you serious?” This was a joke, right? After all, it was Steve who would cut out the articles of the papers he thought interested you and pushed them under your door after you had canceled your subscription. It was Steve who knocked on your door after every exciting event to tell you everything about it first. It was Steve that had been waiting behind his door after every night out, to listen to your footsteps telling him that you had gotten home safely. It was Steve who, despite your constant stubbornness, cared and worried for you. It was also him that had racked his mind about the meaning of your behavior towards him for the better part of today just to be met with that coldness again. Who would do that if they weren’t harboring a big fat crush?

“Well, yes! Because for all I know I’m just the stupid neighbor that will never be good enough for you!”

His heart dropped as he watched the tears brim in your eyes. His features softened, his shoulders slumped, and his fists unclenched. “Why would you think that?”

It was silent for a good moment. Nobody moved, and about twelve eternities later, you finally looked up at him.

“I’ve just never been enough for anybody. Why should you be an exception?”

It was gone. All the rage, the confusion, the hurt - deceased, swept away by a wave of realization and pulled into the deep ends of his mind.

“Y/N.” His voice was stern, seriousness laced within but his eyes were soft. There was a hinge of disappointment hidden between the letters of your name. Whether it was of him or you, Steve couldn’t tell.

“No, I don’t need a lecture from you,” you answered harshly, almost as of you were trying to interrupt him. But Steve had not intended to add any more words. He had hoped it was enough, the way he had said your name - the expression he had fought to uphold while being ripped apart by sadness. Obviously, it wasn’t.

“Yes, you do,” he decided quickly and moved closer. Your eyes switched between his. “Because for all I know, you’re the most amazing person there is. You’re kind and lovely. You say good morning to the grumpy old man next door every time you see him even though he has not replied once. You care so much. You climbed over the fire escape to water my plant when I was out for a week. You always check if I’m ok when I don’t get my mail before you go to work. Why don’t you let other people do the same for you?“ His Hand reached out toward you, laying gently on your cheek. “Because a bunch of douchebags have failed to tell you how amazing you are?” Steve’s chest was heaving, his heart hammering to his ribs.

Your stare was solid, fighting with comprehension. And then, within about three heartbeats, there it was. A settlement. A decision. Confidence. Steve could see it wash over you gradually. And he loved it.

In the next moment, you leaped forward, your arms slung around his neck and your lips pressed to his eagerly, desperate. And Steve did everything in his power to put all the feeling into his response. Greedy hands clammed to his shirt as your hot breath fanned over his cheek. His hands held you tight, as they pressed you to his body, protective and scared to lose this - to lose you in this moment of heat and passion.

—

The floorboards creaked as Steve ushered you to the Sofa, his hands already working on your shirt, slipping beneath and finally making contact with your skin. A low grunt escaped his throat as the heat of your skin seeped through him through his fingertips. They traveled down on your body, slipping past the elastic of your joggers and resting on your ass. You pulled away merely, holding his face in your hands and admiring the dazed look in his eyes.

There was so much to unpack still, and you would have loved to hear him tell you about how much he liked you for another hour, but with the way his touch felt on your skin - hot and needy - you were just as eager to have him show you.

He nudged you backward with a tender smile, laying you down on the cushions as your hands began to work on the hem of his shirt.

“This needs to go.” You moaned as his lips reattached to your throat, hot tingles shooting to your core with the weight of his body on yours and the pressure of his growing budge prominent on your thigh.

His shirt was off in no time and as your hands finally roamed his bare and muscular back, the realness of the moment hit you. This was him. This was Steve as he wanted you to see him and that sparked a warmth in your chest you’d never felt before.

Steve worked his way down your body, over the valley of your breasts, and further down to your belly button. He tugged on the flimsy t-shirt, mirroring your prior action and silently telling you to take it off as well. He helped you pull the shirt over your head and as soon as it landed on the floor his lips went back to caressing every inch of your skin. A calloused thumb brushed over your nipple and you clenched the nothingness between your legs. Another moan with the flick of his tongue on the other.

Your hands buried themselves into his har, tousling and pulling on its end to earn yourself a deep groan that only sent more vibrations through your spine. Nobody had ever made you feel so wanted, so shamefully prized and-

“My God, you’re beautiful, Y/N.” Oh, God. This man had pressure building up in your stomach without even touching you where you needed him most. His hands were still roaming your torso, his lips addicted to the soft flesh of your breasts, boldly wailing as you pulled him up to your lips again.

Steve was eager to see all off you, feel every inch of your body beneath his plush lips, but at the same time, he needed to take it slow. He forced himself to savor the moment, drag it out as long as possible, to make sure he’d never forget the taste of your skin.

“Steve,” you whimpered as his fingertips wandered back down to your ass, “I need you.”

His lips left a trail of warm soft butterfly kisses to the top of your pants. “I know, sweetheart. I know.” The rumble of his voice on your belly sent another gush of wetness to your underwear.

Did this man know how fucking sexy he was? He was alluring when he wasn’t even trying, so really, you didn’t know why you expected anything less when he actually did. But this, this was better than every annoying detail you had frustratedly pictured during lonely nights.

Steve pulled off your joggers with ease and panted at the sight of the wet patch on the lacy material between your legs. His cock twitched, telling him just how ready he was to finally taste you, feel you, be with you. Hell, he could come right there just looking at you squirm under the unbearable absence of his touch during the pause he had to take to admire you. But he reminded himself that this was a moment to appreciate. Because, as hurtful as it was, Steve didn’t know just how much you needed him. He didn’t know if this was a heat-of-the-moment thing or the start of something beautiful. He didn’t know if he’d ever get to love you like that again.

“Steeeeeve,” you whined. His eyes found yours in an innocent puppy stare from between your legs and the audacity he had to act so virtuous in this very position made you squirm once more.

“Please.”

This right here was ecstasy for Steve. The mere whisper of your voice, your hands in his hair, tugging, pulling, and the desperate need for him to be the one to help. “Say no more.”

Steve pressed an open mouth kiss on your clothed core, warm breath making your insides tingle, and a second later the lace was gone, replaced by a cold puff of air he blew over your heated center. Your breath hitched as he unexpectedly attached his mouth to your clit, sucking and flicking his tongue in just the right way. Every stroke sent shivers up your spine and back, making you grip the edge of the sofa in an attempt to keep steady. “Sweeter than honey,” he grumbled to your skin.

Steve had one hand pressed on your abdomen, holding you in place, and the other gripping your thigh in a firm but careful grasp. He had to rut against the sofa to relieve some tension from his already pulsing dick - this was you time, he’d get to be rewarded later. Every moan he ripped from your throat drove him on further, motivating him to make you feel good.

Another gasp sprung from your lips when you felt your muscles tighten, a familiar tingle already building up beneath his hand and you eagerly tried to lift your hips against his face. Steve knew you were close, he could hear it by the way every breath out was accompanied by a sound so vulgar it had him on the edge as well.

He took the hand looped around your leg, gathered some slick with his finger, and slowly pushed it into your pussy, finding the spot that had you screaming in pleasure. The action made him moan against your core, a sensation so intense it had you unravel before his eyes. Steve could feel your walls gripping his finger tightly, your hips lifting from the cushions in anguish. Another flick of his tongue and the knot of white, hot pleasure exploded in your gut.

The intensity of your orgasm had you choking on air, prolonged by Steve’s steady drag of his finger. He pulled his face back, as he watched you ride out your orgasm, eyes rolled back and your jaw hanging slack as you finally caught your breath again when the pressure subsided. A content smile was sneaking on his face when he saw your chest rising and falling evenly again.

“That was-” You were out of breath. “Do it again.”

The room was hot, the smell of sex in the air when your hands reached for Steve’s neck to pull him to your lips once more. “With pleasure,” he mumbled against your mouth with a smirk, the taste of yourself still evident on his tongue and starting up the excitement in your core once again.

Steve thrusted forward, the hard-on beneath his jeans now painfully desperate to spring free, as was your need to finally feel all of him inside of you. What you had already experienced was amazing as it was, but you knew - something told you - that it was just a fraction of the things he could show you.

Your hands fumbled on the button of his jeans, drawing grounds from Steve every time they brushed his bulge. But he let you work and settled on watching your dark eyes with every step you came closer to fully undressing him. He reveled in the anticipation they held for him. The beautiful color of your orbs was almost fully overtaken by lust and mischief, and it turned him on beyond belief.

You sighed as his pants finally opened and pushed them off his legs along with his boxers. His cock sprung free and slapped against his abs. Your eyes switched to his face for the fraction of a second and your mouth began to water at the sight of his leaking tip. He was painfully hard, and as you reached down to stroke him, Steve stropped your wrist.

“But Steve-“

“Please, Y/N. I need to be inside of you.” His eyes were pleading, and you swore they were a little glassy from the despair laced within his tone.

You just nodded in anticipation, scooting back a little and watching him as he chuckled and shook his head. You were so fucking cute, all ambitious and greedy for him. He couldn’t believe that this was really happening. That he got to be so lucky. And that was after he had already had his tongue on your pussy.

He fished his wallet from the pants on the floor and retrieved a condom at record speed. It was rolled on before you could even offer to do it, but that was okay, because the next second, Steve’s body was pressed against yours again, his weight comfortably pushing you into the sofa. His cock poked your thigh, earning a breathy moan from you.

His eyes held your stare for a solid second. There were more words hidden in his gaze than he could have ever said in years. You could see it all: thankfulness, devotion, need, dedication, and was that... love? Steve kissed the corner of your mouth before he grabbed his dick and gathered some slick with his tip, stopping right at your entrance. He sent another look your way. This one was a question, a confirmation that this was in fact what you wanted, maybe even needed. He knew he’d stop right here if you just said the word. He’d wait forever if it meant that you were comfortable - felt safe in his presence.

“Steve just- please just do it,” you whined and moved your hand to his ass to push him into you. You didn’t need to say that twice. He slowly thrusted forwards, letting you adjust to his size with every inch he gave you, watching and carefully analyzing your facial expressions.

The stretch was heavenly. And the slight burn his cock produced just drove you on further as your hands fell back to his head. Steve had his forehead pressed to yours as he finally bottomed out, remaining still for a couple breaths to adjust to you as well.

“You’re heaven.” He breathed against your skin, feeling every inch of his dick engulfed by your velvety walls. You couldn’t respond. It was all so much, so good. This suddenly felt real. You didn’t know, why now, but this - him, so close to you - for you, it was like a proper explanation. A final answer to your never asked questions.

You had your eyes closed for another second, and when you opened them again, piercing blue engulfed you with all its beauty. You kissed him again, pushing the air from his lunges. When you lifted your hips, he started moving slowly.

Every drag of his cock sent a wave of pleasure through your body, the friction unbelievably rewarding. Steve bit his tongue with every moan he earned, hopelessly trying to suppress the need to burst right then and there. He couldn’t do it just yet, not until he had pushed you over the edge once more.

His thrusts grew faster with this determination in mind. He propped his elbow next to your head, his other hand found yours and laced his fingers with yours as he pushed your hands onto the pillow above your head. Your legs wrapped around his hips, giving him a deeper angle to push into you. His tip brushed right on that spot with this new position, every thrust sending perfectly small electric shocks to your limbs.

Your free hand dragged painfully slow indents to the skin on his back, making him moan out in pleasure. He lost his control for a second there, thrusting forward with force and in turn pushing you closer to release.

“Fuck, right there.” Heavy pants filled the small living room. Hot skin on skin, a thin layer of sweat coating your bodies with every wave of pleasure pulsing through you.

You could feel him twitching inside of you, the steady sensual rhythm occasionally losing pace. But Steve wouldn’t let up until you gave him one more orgasm, just one more to finally have him let go as well. His thrusts grew faster with every kiss he placed beneath your ear, the knot in your stomach gradually building until it seemed impossible to hold on. Steve felt your walls gripping him tighter. He was ready, you were ready, you just had to-

“Let go,” he whispered to your sweet spot. And with one final hard thrust, he sent you crashing down. His name rang through the room in a high pitch as your muscles clenched so hard around his cock that he wasn’t able to move anymore. The sensation was so intense, so unbelievably long, and euphoric that you felt like you were floating. Your head felt empty like all the thoughts were blown from your mind, leaving nothing but feeling for this very moment. When your walls began to pulse, he started moving again, chasing his high that had been impending for far too long.

His hand clenched around yours as every thrust bottomed out entirely. Steve tried everything to hold himself up, but his arm gave out with the pleasure shooting through his veins. Your hips met his in free motions, riding off the other’s orgasms until all the strength was drained from your bodies.

Steve buried his head in the crook of your neck as your bodies stilled. Your fingers still intertwined, greedily holding onto something tangible, something that felt real other than the impulses your nervous system fired through your entire being.

Minutes passed of you just lying there, comprehending the situation. A smile snuck its way on your face as the realization settled and the post-orgasm bliss consumed you fully. Steve’s chest pushed into yours with every deep breath he took on top of you. The hand on his back found its way up to his hair. You pressed your lips to his head as your nose took in the smell of his shampoo. Steve enjoyed the warmth of your skin on his cheeks. He felt like he belonged right here: tugged into you - fully inside of you.

He smiled too, lifting his head slightly to press a kiss to your shoulder. “Next time you wanna drink yourself stupid, do it with me. At least then I’ll know that you are safe.”

You just chuckled in response. Your nails scratched his scalp lovingly, your eyes closing as you hugged him closer to you... if that was even possible.

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