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#like no i genuinely can’t do some things without help no matter how many times you explain it to me i’m sorry?

marvelouslizzie · 1 year

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Trust In What Tomorrow Brings - Co-written with @notafunkiller

Summary: After your first date with Bucky Barnes, you two spend some time alone in your apartment. That's when you realize you actually want to keep him.

Pairing: 40s Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Warnings: 18+ NSFW MINORS DNI, second encounter, teasing, pet names, sir and sergeant kink, a tiny bit of mommy kink, mentions of past relationships, mentions of trauma, protected and unprotected sex, praising dirty talking mixture, dry humping, ripped clothing, face riding, blowjob, rough sex, multiple orgasms, light punishment, no mention of y/n

Word Count: 11.9K

A/N: This is technically a second chapter to You’re My Desire but you don't need to read the first chapter to understand what's going on since this is their second date. We actually planned it as a one-shot but somehow 40s Bucky and this universe didn't want us to be done. So here we are with a sequel. We kinda went overboard with it because we just want Bucky to have a little bit of a good time in the middle of the war.

Please give my lovely co-writer @notafunkiller a follow. She's a great writer and a talented creator in general.

All work is ours, please do not repost or translate without our permission.

Every like, comment, and reblog is highly appreciated. Don’t hesitate to message us. Unless it’s hate. That’s never welcome.

Read more tag starts after the fourth paragraph of the story.

You may wanna read You're My Desire first

"This is absolutely crazy. They are all yours?" Bucky's fascinated smile is so cute that you smile, too.

“Oh yeah, I have been collecting books for a long time.”

"What's this?" He takes a book with a white cover that had no title or author written on it and analyzes it carefully.

“No, no, no.” You immediately try to take it back. “That’s not for your eyes, mister.”

"What?" Bucky snorts. "Is that your diary or what?"

“No, it’s not my diary.” You try to take the book back again, but you're not successful.

"Then why not?" He is even more curious now, turning his back a little to you to open it. "Even a dedication, huh? Is it from an old lover?"

“No, it’s not. Come on, give it back.”

He sighs, not wanting to push you and hands you the book. "Okay, sorry."

You didn’t expect him to give up this easily. His consideration makes you wanna share a little bit more with him. So you open up a page and show him.

“This is why you aren’t supposed to see this.”

He was careful not to hurt her as he pushed her.

Her skin was so soft under his touch that nothing matters anymore.

"Oh god," Bucky covers his mouth. "Is the whole book like this, doll?"

“Pretty much.” You giggle a little, amused by his cute reaction.

"Wanna read it to me?" He winks.

“You can read it yourself if you wanna learn a thing or two.”

"Excuse you?" Bucky raises his eyebrow. "Are you questioning my skills now?"

You throw your head back, laughing, and Bucky crosses his arms with a frown as he watches you.

“I’m teasing you.”

"Sure." He puffs. He knows you have experience, but what if he doesn't keep up to your expectations?

“I’m really teasing you. Half of the things they do sound unrealistic.”

"Give me an example." His voice is somehow a little vulnerable.

You take a big breath, already regretting this. “Let’s see: having sex underwater like crazy. The girl is… wet for hours. They are going at it all night, and the guy comes several times in a row.”

Bucky snorts, coming closer to you. "Does he have the super super serum? Because that's not biologically possible."

“That’s exactly what I meant.“

"Yet you still read them. Who wrote this?"

“There aren’t many options when it comes to these kinds of books. The author is not written as you can see.”

"How do you find them though?" He's genuinely curious.

“Mostly we borrow from each other. This one is my favorite so I bought a copy.”

"We? Who's we?"

“Girls. Exchanging books.”

Bucky's eyes glow all of a sudden. "Like a book club?"

“Yeah, like a book club.” You can’t help but smile at how excited he is.

"Oh god. Is it only for girls?" He tries to calm down a little, but this is so interesting he can't control himself.

Your smile turns into a full laugh. “You wanna read erotic books with girls?”

Bucky groans embarrassed as he covers his face. "No, of course not. I was just wondering. I can read erotic books with my girl."

“Your girl?” You raise your right eyebrow playfully.

"Aren't you?" He drops the hand from his face to grab yours.

“It depends on you.” You really wanna kiss him, but you hold yourself back.

Bucky surprises you by grabbing your ass and pulling you into him. Your book falls on the floor, but neither of you cares as he kisses you gently. "Want to be my girl, doll?"

“Yes, yes.”

"Are you sure? I can't make love to you the whole night," Bucky says amused.

You laugh. “I don’t think I would survive that even if you could.”

He joins you in laughter. "I'd probably die mid-thrust."

“You know what, though?”

"What?"

“I didn’t think having sex against the wall was realistic. You know, carrying the other person the whole time while thrusting. I thought that no more than 2 or 3 minutes could be possible, but you proved me wrong.”

Bucky looks at her surprised. "Really?"

“Yeah, really. I still don’t know how you did that.”

"I just held you. I'm a soldier." He brushes it off. "Maybe your... friends need to exercise more."

“My friends?” You repeat in a joking manner.

"Special friends."

“I don’t have any special friends.”

"Doll," he groans. "You know what I mean."

“I know and I never had any special friends.”

Bucky sighs. "Your previous... partners."

“I just had one partner, and he wasn’t a special friend. He was my fiancé.”

"Oh?" He feels like a total fool for assuming that. The word engagement, though… That burns a hole in his stomach. "Your fiance? What happened?"

“He got drafted, and then I found out he was cheating on me. So I broke off the engagement.”

Bucky can't believe it. How could he do that? "Wow, I'm sorry. I have no idea what to say. When did it happen?"

“Over a year ago.” You offer a little more information with a bitter smile. You're glad you found out then. It would have been a mess if you had gotten married before that. “It’s okay. You already said more than he ever did.”

"I..." Bucky takes a step back. You're probably still in pain. Maybe even in love or regretting what could have been. He doesn't know how to process this. "I'm sorry once again."

“It’s okay.” You shrug. “And look, I know what kind of impression I gave you on that first date. So if you don’t believe I only had one partner before, I understand it.”

"That's not... I frankly don't care how many partners you had. That is the last thing I'd ever care about. What we did was to follow our needs." He sighs. "But I want to know what you really want us to be. Because I am not sure I would be the right guy to mend your heart only."

He wants a whole lot more.

“I am not expecting you to mend my heart, Bucky.”

"You talked about pain," he says naively.

“Pain that happened in the past. I’m not in pain anymore.”

"Oh." He slaps his forehead. "I'm sorry. I misunderstood, I guess. I was surprised because we have a connection and I felt like you liked me back, so hearing that you suffer..." Bucky's eyes soften. "He's an idiot. He never deserved you. A coward and a horrible man. I am sorry you had to go through this."

You wrap your arms around his neck. “You think we have a connection, huh?” You ignore the rest. You don’t wanna think about the past anymore.

"I hope you feel it, too." He sounds so shy and vulnerable you can't help yourself but smile.

“You are in my apartment all alone. What do you think?”

"I think we should dance."

“Dance?” You are surprised by his sudden suggestion.

"Yes. I mean, I am not a great dancer, but I’m decent enough. Can we?"

“Yeah, of course. We should put some music on first.”

"You have a record player?! He doesn't even try to hide his shock and excitement anymore, so you grab him by his hand and drag him toward your record player.

You watch him staring at the big pile of records on the table.

“I have my apartment now, so I can spend my money on books, records, and stuff to cook.”

"Can you adopt me?" He jokes, without taking his eyes off your record player. "Wanna be my mommy? You can be my special young mama."

“Oh?” You try really hard not to smile, a little confused. “How does that work?”

"How do you think it works?" He's not even trying to sound seductive, but he still does. You have to take a deep breath, trying to keep your excitement down.

“I really don’t know. Why don’t you tell me?”

"Hmm, maybe another time. How about we dance?"

“Okay,” you say and you start to go through your records until you find Frank Sinatra. You put the record on and manage to find There Are Such Things really quickly.

"I love this one! You have a treasure here, doll." You extend your hand out and wait for him to take it so you two can start dancing. "Wanna sway with me, ma'am?" He finally takes your hand and brings you closer.

“I would love that.”

You're not surprised he's a good dancer. You expected this to be honest. But his goofiness, his funny faces, the way his voice feels so pleasant as he sings the lyrics… You feel shy to sing along when he's such a good singer, so you only hum against his chest.

He is warm and strong under your touch. It makes you remember the time you were much closer than this. You wondered what got into you that day, why you acted the way you did. He’s just intoxicating, and you would totally do it all over again.

"What are you thinking about?” He looks at you. “You seem distracted. Wanna do something else?"

His voice takes you back to reality. You are ashamed to admit you were thinking about sex, so you snuggle against his chest.

“No. Let’s keep dancing.”

"Only if you tell me what got you so distracted." You feel his lips on your head as he speaks.

“Your touch.” You try to be honest but also not expose yourself completely.

"What about it? Already tired of it?" You know he does it intentionally. He's so easy to read at this point.

“Yeah, so tired of it, that’s why I wanna keep dancing.” You try to surpass the urge to smile.

Bucky snorts, unable to contain himself. "All types of dancing?"

“How many types of dancing do you know, Sergeant?”

"One that you know for sure, too. We practiced it before." The change of tone is so obvious, and his hands fully wrap around your hips, pushing you more against him. He's so hard.

You look up, not moving away from his chest when you realize you aren’t the only one thinking about sex just because you are dancing. It’s a relief.

“I thought we were doing a regular dance,” you say, but the smile on your lips is giving away your actual feelings about this situation.

"Isn't this regular?"

"If you want it to be."

"Sounds good to me."

"Where should we dance, though? Kitchen? Bedroom? Here? Bathroom?" You start to laugh. He’s such an idiot. "Floor?" He joins you and starts to laugh as well.

“Floor?” You frown. “I think we deserve a bed this time.”

"I was teasing you," He lifts your chin to kiss you properly. "Thought you liked it rough."

“It can be rough in bed.”

He groans at the thought of taking you hard in a soft bed. "I might break it, doll."

“I bet you could.”

"Is that a challenge?" You love the subtle tone in his voice.

“No, it’s a prediction.”

And just like that you finally realize the music has stopped, only the sound of the needle-moving breaking the silence.

"Should we, uhm, play another or…?" He asks curiously, letting you go.

“We can, but I am a little hungry. We can listen while eating, and you can choose the time. How does that sound?”

Bucky's eyes widen. "That's perfect."

"I love this. Where did you get it from?" He's playing with the bracelet you're wearing as he eats another strawberry, laying on the couch next to you. It feels so natural, like you did this a million times before, yet still exciting.

“Oh, this?” You move your arm a little, but not away from him. “It belonged to my grandmother.”

"It's so beautiful, a perfect fit for you."

“She told me my grandfather gifted this when they got engaged.”

"Rich." He can't help himself but comment. "Sorry, I mean it's really beautiful, but also kind of expensive. He must have loved her very much." Then he places a small kiss on your wrist, right below your bracelet.

You laugh a little. “How do you think I could afford all this stuff?”

Bucky clears his throat, nervous. "You have a point, I just don't think about money. I don't come from a rich family."

“If you were, you wouldn’t be fighting in this war.” Your tone is suddenly more serious than you intended.

"So you don't mind going out with a nobody?" He sighs, just as serious.

“You are not nobody. Not to me!” You caress his cheek. “You are James Bucky Barnes.”

He melts under your touch immediately. He doesn't remember the last time he felt this type of warmth.

"You're so sweet."

“Wait. Does this mean…” You aren’t sure how to ask, but his comments about being rich remind you of the conversation you had not long ago. “The adopting or mommy thing you said. Does it mean this?”

He laughs so hard you can't believe it. Did you misunderstand? Is it not what it really means?

"I don't know, mama. What do you think that means?"

“Oh, come on! I have no idea and you know it!”

"I think you do."

“Nope. Not at all. Maybe you just want kids. That would make me a mama, right?”

"Hmm." Suddenly he’s distracted by that idea. He's simply too busy imagining his come dripping out of you to give you a proper answer, making you even more curious.

“You are such a tease,” you grumble.

"What does that mean?"

“What do you think that means?” You mimic his question.

Bucky taps his thigh and smiles. "Come here. You can ask me anything." You look at his thighs and then back into his eyes, biting your lip. That offer is so appealing. "I thought you trusted my strength."

“Oh, I do.” You move a bit closer, but not on his lap. “I am just not trusting myself.”

He gasps, bringing you closer himself. "Fuck, why?"

“You know the answer to this one.” You remark cheekly.

"No, I really don't."

“You are lying, mister. You know what I mean when I say I don’t trust myself.” You move your legs, trying to find a comfortable position.

"I don't know exactly what you mean."

“You might find out later then.”

He groans, moving his hands to your breasts, unsure. "I wanna know now."

“I'll tell you only if you promise me that you'll explain the mom thing.” You like how distracted he looks, so you keep leaning in.

"You're a mommy right now."

“And what does that actually mean?”

He's too focused on your breasts to even hear you. "Fuck, look at those hard little things." He can't help but pinch one of your nipples.

“Bucky!”

"So squishy." He's so fascinated as he squeezes the other breast eagerly. He's like a distracted child.

You move a little bit back, so he can’t touch them. "No!" He immediately complains, reaching out to touch them again. "How dare you!"

“No answer, no touching.”

He lifts his head and gives you the most betrayed look you've ever seen. His eyes are almost glossy. "You can't take them away."

“I can actually.” You move a little bit more. “See? They come wherever I go.”

Bucky gasps, wrapping his arms around your waist and bringing you closer. "Don't you dare!"

“You are so dramatic.” You laugh while hugging him back.

"I am not." He pouts, burying his face into your boobs again.

“You are.” You move your hips just a little while still hugging him.

"What are you doing?"

“Nothing.”

"Nothing?" He moves his hips, too.

You make a sound you don’t expect but try to act like it didn’t happen. “Yeah, nothing.”

"Fuck me," he whispers to himself before taking your nipple in his mouth through the blouse. He wants to make you moan like that again. He needs to.

“Jesus, Bucky!”

"I'm your Jesus now?" He asks teasingly, switching to the other nipple.

“You can be my God if you keep doing that.” Shit, where did this response come from? He brings out a part of you that you didn’t know it even existed.

"You can't say this." He cries out unexpectedly, still licking you through your blouse. "You can't."

“Why?” It comes out like a whine.

"It's too much."

“You are too much.”

His hands grab the edge of your blouse without warning, but before he can rip it off, you slap his arms.

“You can just take things off without ripping them, you know?” You take the top off yourself, showing him how it’s done. “See, it’s not that hard.”

He ignores your comment and doesn't even warn you before grabbing your boobs and squeezing them together. "Missed you." Then he brings his head right between them, snuggling. You can’t help but laugh. "What's so funny?"

“You are. Look at you.”

"Can't look at me. I'm looking at something better." He licks the valley between your breasts without letting them go, and you curse under your breath. "Gonna take them away from me again?" He lets his tongue get to your right breast, and you feel his teeth dangerously close to your nipple now, making you moan.

“I think I should shut my mouth. I’m boosting your ego way too much.” You play because he’s boosting your ego, too.

"You can shut my mouth, baby. Anytime."

“Shut your mouth how?” You bring your hands over his mouth. “Like this?”

He bites your fingers in response. "Nope. Try again."

You move your hand to his neck and put a little pressure. “Maybe like this?”

He lets out the lowest moan you've ever heard from his mouth, closing his eyes. "Oh."

“Am I getting closer?” You ask. His eyes are so dark when he opens them, you're shocked. “Or did you mean something else?” You whisper right into his ear.

"Ihm. I did, can you guess?" He tries to distract himself before he can think about how much he enjoyed your grip on his neck.

“I’m out of ideas,” you say, making him drop his hand to your skirt. His fingers are playing with the edge of it. You can feel the implication of him wanting to take your skirt off. “You want me to… Shut you up with… Like that?”

"Imagine it." He closes his eyes, palming you over your underwear. "You'd be able to control the movements more."

“Did you… try this before? I don’t wanna hurt you.”

"You think you can hurt me?" He sounds so offended. "Oh, hell no. We should do this right now and I'll show you."

“Of course, I can hurt you. I could crush you!”

He looks at you amused. "Can't wait. Now come here and don't you dare hold back or you'll get a punishment. Got it?"

“Punishment?” Your eyes widen upon hearing that word. You aren’t sure if it’s scary or exciting. Could be both.

"I don't mean hurting you." He realizes immediately how this sounded. "I mean... spanking lightly."

“Oh, that kind of punishment.” You get a bit more relaxed, but your heart is beating fast. You move yourself where he wants you, but it feels so wrong. “I am afraid I might suffocate you.”

Bucky wants to protest immediately, but he stops himself. He knows you only need reassurance.

"How about we have a sign? If I tap three times on the couch, we stop. How about that?"

“Tap on me. Doesn’t matter where. Just on me, so I can feel it immediately.”

He nods, all melted. "Okay, now please don't hover." He gently orders.

“Tell me if I do anything wrong.”

You lower yourself on his face while trying to gather your skirt up for him.

"Can I rip it off or not?"

“You can. I knew you were gonna ask that, so I wore something I don’t like much.”

"Skirt too?"

“No. Not the skirt because I can take it off easily.” You unzip the skirt and take it off your head. “See?”

"Shame..," he says disappointed before finally ripping your underwear off with only one hand. "Finally!"

“You are a savage, Sergeant Barnes.”

"And I think you love that."

“Very much.” You lower yourself on his face, practically shutting him up like he wanted. He doesn't disappoint as he moans against you, making sure you're not hovering before pushing his tongue inside you. “Oh my god!” You yelp when you feel his warm tongue for the first time.

He can't answer as he's too busy eating you, but you feel his hands squeezing your skin harder. You spread your legs even further to feel his tongue better. It feels so good that you have a hard time keeping your voice down.

"Good girl." His praise goes directly to your core, and you curse under your breath, thinking you won’t last long. He can't help himself but bring one of his hands to your clit, hesitating.

“Just your tongue.” You request while moaning, and he agrees wordlessly.

You start to move your hips back and forth, trying not to go overboard and Bucky seems to love it, groaning louder against you, moving his tongue. As it gets more delightful, you have a hard time balancing yourself, so you grab onto his hair with one hand.

"Fuck!" He takes his mouth off just to curse. "Pull as hard as you want."

You pull his hair a little bit more before he puts his mouth back on you, just to see his reaction.

"Jesus, I'm..." he's so hard and excited that he's already started to leak. "I'm gonna make a mess on your couch."

“I’m already making a mess on my couch.” You are dripping wet, and he’s worried about making the mess. He’s so cute, especially when he’s laying down to please you like this.

"Keep bouncing, baby," he demands, then in no time, his tongue is flat, ready to be used by you, and you don’t hesitate.

You hold onto his hair with your right hand as you ride his tongue. You don't even realize how hard you pull until you hear his moans, encouraging you to keep going. He's clearly not suffocating, and you don’t realize how fast you are moving your hips, either. Not until you explode on his face, moaning mindlessly while trying to keep your shaking legs moving until you are done coming.

What surprises you the whole time is how he doesn't stop using his tongue until you finish, trying to hold you in place so he can give you more pleasure. You move yourself back a little after you are done, sitting on his chest and trying to catch your breath. You feel like a mess.

"How was it?" He doesn't move as he asks you that, only wiping his face with the back of his left hand.

“Earth-shattering. Wow.”

He snorts before licking his fingers right under your eyes. "Gonna listen to me next time?"

“Yes, sir,” you jokingly say, feeling boneless but still needing more.

"No." His answer comes more like a groan than an affirmation. "You can't… call me sir."

“Why not, sir?”

"God, it sounds so... great." He doesn't know what else to say, covering his face shily.

“Did I just discover something about you or did you already know this?” You finally move away from his chest, leaning down to kiss him.

"It's something new."

“What about Sargeant? That you must have known.” You move your lips to his cheek, just making them brush his skin.

"Come on. Kiss me." He complains.

“Ask nicely.”

"Please?"

You finally kiss him on the cheek. "You are so pretty when you beg." Then you move your lips to his jaw and neck.

"You are even prettier when you listen."

"Am I? What if I don't listen?"

He brings his hand to your neck. "You're a bad, bad girl. And bad girls get punished." He smiles.

"I never got punished in bed before."

He smiles. "What would you want to try? Spanking as I suggested before?"

"You are giving the orders, remember? Not me."

Bucky raises his eyebrow. "You mean you pretend I'm giving the orders."

"Maybe I want you to give the orders, not just pretend." He squeezes the sides of the neck.

"You can try whatever you wanna try. You can give orders, just stop whenever I say stop."

"Deal.”

It feels strange to have him in your bedroom, truth be told. Especially watching him getting rid of his underwear and socks this close to you. His hair bounces with every move, so you can't help but giggle. And he looks so good. Really good, especially under proper lighting.

It’s not the first time you are seeing him half-naked, but you definitely didn’t get a good look while having a quickie in a dark alley. His body looks toned, strong, and capable. You are dying to feel his touch, but you stand still, waiting for him to come to you.

"How many taps when you want me to stop?"

“Three.”

"Good." He smiles assuringly before slowly spreading your legs further. "You're so cute waiting for me."

“Just cute?”

He shakes his head, finally positioning himself at your entrance. His eyes are stuck on you: your hair, face, neck, chest. "You're sweet too," he teases, pushing inside you.

“Fuck.” You moan silently. It feels so good to feel him inside you again. “Sweet? Anything else?” You voice comes out so breathy.

"Smart. Nerdy." He leans in, putting more of his weight onto his elbows. "Beautiful. Brave. Loud and adorable."

“Brave?” You look confused while biting your bottom lip, trying not to make a loud sound.

"Aren't you?" He smiles, starting to thrust a little faster, but not enough to make it impossible to speak. At least for now. "Brave to move on from a failed engagement. Brave to live with your friend here. Brave to accept our date. Brave to test me." His laugh is so contagious.

You wrap your arms around his neck and pull him closer. “You think I tested you?” Your lips are inches away from his.

"I know you did." He kisses you, not waiting for you to do it as he lifts one of your legs on his shoulder. "At the fair." He sounds out of breath this time, his thrusts hitting a little deeper.

You wanna say you didn’t, that it wasn’t a test. It is something that happened, and you don’t regret it, but instead, a loud moan escapes your mouth. The angle change fills you with a different kind of pleasure.

"What a responsive doll you are." He smiles against your neck. "So perfect for me." You pull your legs, spreading your legs even further to give him more space to move. It makes his thrusts feel even better somehow. "Jesus, this is..." He's trying to find the perfect words to describe how he feels, but there are none. "Heaven."

“Oh, god!” It’s hard to keep your voice down when he latches onto the closest nipple, Whatever he’s doing with that tongue, it helps you to feel better down there. It’s driving you closer to your release.

"I'm your god now?" He jokes, stopping the sucking for a few seconds just to tease you.

“Yes! Yes, you are. Keep doing that and I will worship you later.”

He doesn't just continue lick and suck on your breast, he also starts thrusting deeper than before. The sound of the bed moving is even more obvious now. There is no way your neighbors don't know what is happening.

“Shit!” It’s so hard not to curse when he’s pounding like that, hitting all the right spots. “I’m so close,” you whisper, trying to keep your voice down. “Just keep going, don’t change anything.”

"Just like this?" He asks, keeping the same pace as you asked. "Are you going to be good and enjoy yourself?"

“You have no idea…” You try to collect yourself to form a sentence. “How good I feel right now.”

"I do," he says breathlessly before letting his teeth and tongue mark your neck. The pain you feel somehow enhances the pleasure, and you suddenly find yourself throwing your head back, shutting your eyes, and moaning his name over and over again. You’re coming so hard. "I feel like... Doll, please, say my name again."

“Bucky, Bucky, Bucky.” It’s all you wanna say anyway. “Please, don’t stop. Please!” You have no idea why you’re begging. You know he won’t stop, yet you still wanna do it. You still wanna beg him not to stop. It feels that good, that precious.

"Never." He manages to answer you between moans. "I'd rather die."

“Oh god, I think I…” Pleasure keeps hitting you in waves. “I might be dying myself.” You never had an orgasm this long. Your whole body is tensed up. You can actually hear your ears ringing.

"Gonna come for you, pretty doll." He bites your neck on another spot.

“Please, please.” It’s like you forgot all the other words. You watch him through a haze how he reaches his orgasm, saying your name like a whisper as he suddenly stays still inside you.

After he finishes, you close the distance and give him a big kiss. Sloppy and loving. It feels like you are thanking him for all the pleasure he’s just given you.

"Hi." He smiles. "Are you good?"

“God! I feel like I am still on the clouds.” You caress his face, carefully admiring his features. “What about you?”

He smiles. "I'm in heaven."

“Does it always feel this good?” The words come out of your mouth unintentionally. You really didn’t mean to ask that out loud. It was just a thought. “I mean, I don’t know what you are doing different to make it feel so good. I didn’t experience this before.” You keep rambling, trying to explain yourself. “So I wonder if it is supposed to feel this good all the time. But I’m not trying to question your past or anything. Don’t get me wrong.” You would keep talking if he didn’t cut you off.

"Breathe, baby. No, it doesn't feel like this with everyone else because you don't always have a connection. I am so glad to hear I made you happy." He smiles like a fool.

You cover your face with your hands. “I shouldn’t have asked that, I am sorry. It feels like it’s something you keep to yourself.”

"What? No. Ask me and I'll answer."

You finally take your hands off your face.

“Okay. I have another question then.” He’s still inside you. and you can feel him getting hard again. “Is it normal that you are already getting hard inside me this quickly?”

He groans. "Told you, you felt amazing."

“That’s not my question, though. Is this normal for you? You always get hard this quickly after coming?” You insist because you wanna know. You have a feeling there’s something different about him, and you wanna prove it to him.

He has no idea about your intention, though. He’s worried that he’s hurting you, so in a few seconds, he quickly gets out of you.

"Sorry. I didn't want to hurt you." He raises from the bed, taking off the used condom as he walks to the nightstand. "And yes, I do become hard like this. Why?"

“You didn’t hurt me.” You want to quickly clear that up. “And you know it takes at least half an hour for other men, right? That’s not… how it normally works.”

Bucky laughs. "They haven't met you."

“I’m talking from experience this time. In this case, they met me. This has nothing to do with me.”

He rolls the second condom on as he speaks. "Maybe I'm a lucky man."

“Okay, you are ignoring too many signs. I have to prove it to you. Bring me that small mirror.”

Bucky starts laughing, but he does what you ask him to, then coming back.. "What are you gonna do, huh?"

You sit on his lap, and just like that he’s back inside you.

“Welcome back.” You joke with a smile. “Now gimme the mirror.” He hands it over, and without explaining anything, you lean down, gently licking and sucking on a certain spot.

Bucky tries desperately not to thrust his hips. After a while, you start to bite his neckless gently, which makes you feel a little guilty.

He doesn't seem to mind though. Quite the contrary. "You can bite harder.”

“Hmm…” If he doesn’t mind, you don’t mind biting harder either. So you do it again, dragging the skin with your teeth. “God, you’re so delicious.”

His hands find their way to your breasts, making sure not to grab them too hard. You bite the same spot again, fand a red spot is already forming.

"Little artist," he says when you reach for the mirror, turning it to him so he can see his neck. It’s clearly dark red. "See? You gave me a hickey. Congrats, baby." He smiles proudly and kisses your cheek.

“Let’s see how long it will take you to heal.”

Bucky rolls his eyes. "I just have a ticker skin, baby. Now come on, please, do something. Why are you torturing me?"

“I’m a small, adorable girl. I don’t know how I am supposed to move.” You are fully lying, and he knows it. So he decides to play your game.

"Bounce a little. Up and down."

You act like you are trying and failing. “Like this?”

Bucky shakes his head. "Try again. Change the angle a bit."

“Oh, come on, Bucky.” You whine. You love and hate how he quickly catches up to whatever you try to do.

"You should be a good little girl and try it yourself."

“Fine.” You frown and start moving for real this time, and he immediately wraps his arms properly around your waist.

"What's wrong?"

“I was teasing you, so you would get tired of it and take control.”

He smiles. "I know."

In response, you punch him in his shoulder. “Then why didn’t you?”

"Why would I give you what you want now?" His voice drops lower. "Wanna push your limits."

“My limits?” You repeat as he brushes your nipples. “You wanna torture me? Make me desperate? Is that what it is?”

Bucky smiles, getting his lips close to yours again, but before he can kiss you, he takes you by the back of the head and moves you. You whine when he gets out of you.

“Bucky! What the fuck?”

"I need you to trust me, okay?" He tries to help get on all fours as he speaks. You nod in agreement. "Need your ass a little higher."

“My ass?” You sound a little afraid. You are definitely not ready for that if that’s his intention.

"Yes." He doesn't notice the change in your tone right away. "Promise I don't- oh, I don't plan on doing anything like that I promise. Just trust me."

You take a deep breath of relief. “Okay.”

"Put your weight on your elbows, okay?" You do as he asks. You switch the weight, putting your head down while your ass goes higher. "Do you feel comfortable?"

“It’s a little weird, but not uncomfortable.”

"Ready?"

“Yes!” You sound impatient, and he quickly pushes inside you. Not too much, afraid he might hurt you in any way. It must feel way deeper like this, and he doesn't want to risk it.

"God," he finds himself moaning. "You feel so good." You can’t respond to him though. All you can do is just moan. It feels incredible. "All good?"

“Yeah.” Your voice feels a little different. Raspy. “You can move.”

Bucky lets out a deep breath before finally trying out a few slow thrusts. "How does it feel?"

“Good. Really good.” It’s like your vocabulary disappears when you two have sex. It’s hard to form sentences or express yourself.

"How about this?" He asks while moving much faster. It's something about this angle that gives him more room to use his strength.

“Jesus Christ!” You mumble. How can it feel this good?

"I don't think I can last as long as before." He groans as he watches you shiver under him. The way you sound like this, your position, the way you feel... He's on another planet.

“I don’t think you have to.” It’s unbelievable how close you are. It’s normally not that easy for you, but things are different when you are with him.

He keeps the same pace, focusing on your moans and the sound of your skin slapping. His mouth somehow manages to find your shoulder and he licks the same spot for a few seconds, making you shiver. "So sweet for me."

Even though you love how he is licking and talking into you ear, him leaning in changes the angle and the pace. It’s not as rough as it was before, and you find yourself moving your hips back, trying to get more friction.

"Look at that." He smiles against your shoulder, sounding fascinated. "Someone is unhappy with my services."

“Not unhappy.” You definitely aren’t. “It’s just… my hips don’t listen to me anymore.”

"Oh, no," Bucky comments amused before getting back to his initial position. "Your poor hips."

You know he isn’t mocking you for real but something about it irritates you. So you stop moving your hips. “Better?”

He lifts his eyebrow even though he knows you can't see him. "Hmm." You suddenly feel a slap on your ass. You make a sound that can only be described as a half moan half yelp.

"What was that?" Another spank follows. This time you’re moaning when the burning feeling spreads on your ass cheek completely. You feel the urge to move your hips again, but you refrain yourself.

"Look at you, bratty little cat. You're getting wetter because of this." He's so excited as he rubs your cheeks with both of his hands, but you can do this later. He's too close. You are, too. And just like that, he's back to fucking you. He doesn't go back to his gentle rhythm. Surprisingly, his thrusts are deep and fast.

“Oh my god!” The rhytm is finally the way you wanted it again. Instinctively, you lean in a bit more, and your head gets buried in the bed while your ass is a little higher than before.

"Jesus, doll." He cries out, feeling so overwhelmed. "I'm so close. So... so close."

Your hand moves to your clit, touching yourself just the way you like it, even though it feels so hard to do while he’s pounding you. That’s all you need to finally reach the climax. You're not quiet at all despite your failed attempt to muffle your moans with your pillow. And Bucky feels like that's it. He doesn't even manage to warn you that he’s following you and coming hard. He softly moans your name after he finishes, falling onto your back just to feel your skin.

His hands wrap around your body and you let yourself fall with him. The indescribable pleasure you felt is still running through your whole body.

"Wow!"

You laugh a little, trying to turn your head. You wanna see him, kiss him, and maybe tease him a little, but he's already prepping kisses all over your neck, then your back.

“You are crushing me,” you say jokingly but it’s half true.

"Oh, sorry." He immediately gets off you, throwing himself on the bed completely.

“Don’t go that far away though.” You exaggerate a little, opening your arms. You want him as close as possible.

Bucky doesn't hesitate to use this as an opportunity to bury his head into your boobs. "Hmm, perfect. I’m in heaven with you and these babies." He kisses both of your breasts to emphasize what he means.

You can’t help but snort. “Babies?”

"Yes, my babies. My dolls."

“I thought they were mine.”

Bucky puffs before snuggling even more. "Only mine."

“And I have no say in this?” You joke again, and he shakes his head. “Does it mean this…” You grab his dick gently. It’s soft and the condom is dangling. “...is mine?”

His whine is so loud, making you giggle. "Of course it's yours."

“Oh, I love this deal.” You use your thumb and index finger to take the condom off.

"Fuck." He closes his eyes.

“Sensitive?”

"A little."

“That’s okay.” You give him a little kiss on the head, then move a little so you can tie the condom up. That makes you see the hickey on his neck again, which is almost gone. You put the condom away and reach for the mirror you used before.

"What?"

“Remember the lovely hickey I gave you?” Bucky nods. “Wanna see it now?” You lift the mirror so he can take a look. He expected to see only a faded pink mark, but instead the skin is intact as if you never bit him.

"How!?"

“That’s my question exactly.”

"What the fuck is going on?" His hand goes to the place your mark used to be and there's no trace of any teeth. "Holy cow."

“I think you are healing faster than any of us.” You stop for a second. “Like Steve.”

Bucky's eyes immediately find yours. "You don't mean..."

“I don’t know what I mean, to be honest, because I don’t know any details. Like… Did you participate in whatever they did to him? Or maybe it’s something transmittable, I don’t know.”

You see him going pale all of the sudden, and your heart drops. He seems to know what caused this.

"They must have done something to me when I was captured. But I didn't change like he did." He looks so confused, like he’s trying to put the puzzle pieces together. "I'm not like Steve."

“You were captured?!” That’s all you focus on. You have to know.

"I was." He sighs, placing the mirror on the floor before pulling you onto his lap. "By Hydra. Long story short, my unit and I were sent at some point at a weapon facility in Europe. In Austria... We were forced to work on an advanced bomber plane. I have no idea what happened to that, but I was so..." Bucky closes his eyes. "I was starving, losing weight every day. I was so weak I couldn't continue, so they did something else."

“Dear God.” You are completely shocked. “Are you okay?”

"I was basically a test subject for a crazy doctor. I thought they just tested different things for a death serum. But now I am not sure at all." He's so lost in his memories now. He is clearly not like Steve, but it's so weird how his health reports were fine. He shakes his head, not wanting to think about it any longer. "I'm more than well when I'm with you." He finally answers your question.

“I’m glad you are here with me.” You give him a full kiss, thinking about all the possibilities, everything that could’ve happened before you two had the chance to meet. You wouldn’t even know who he is and that somehow hurts more.

"You're so precious." He hugs you so tightly you feel like you're about to cry.

You try not the think about how he could’ve been still a captive. You can’t imagine how horrible that experience must be, but you don’t wanna cry. Not when he’s in your arms like this.

“Wanna test out how super you are?” You suggests instead. A change of subject can help you both.

"Want me to cook for you? Going to prove to you I am marriage material after all." He smiles.

Your eyes widen with surprise. “Marriage?” That definitely wasn’t what you were expecting him to say.

"Don't mind me, doll. What did you have in mind?"

“No, no, no. You can’t say that and leave it at that.”

Bucky strokes your hair. "What else can I say? I'm embarrassing myself."

“Embarrassing yourself? Nope, you aren’t.” You shake your head. “You are giving me hope but don’t do it if you don’t mean it, okay?”

"Of course I mean it," he immediately says, not letting you doubt even for a second. "But I thought... it is a bit early. I didn't want to be overbearing."

“It’s not. I know we don’t know each other that well yet and we might change our minds later. I’m not taking this as a promise or anything.”

"Well," he raises your hand and brings it to his mouth just to place a soft kiss on it. "I would be lucky if you wanted me after all of this." You give him a confused look, and he clarifies: "This whole weird healing thing and my sad story." He snorts, belittling himself. You are not having any of this though.

“I think it’s…” You try to find the right words. “really hot, and I really wanna test your limits because I think your healing applies to your… recovery, too. Remember how quickly you got hard again?”

Bucky laughs. "So it's all about this, huh?"

“What? Don’t you wanna find out if I am right?”

"I don't have another condom, love." He sighs.

“I mean we did it without a condom before.” It’s the truth, but it feels so weird to ask for more after having great sex. You should be content with it, but no, your body craves more.

Bucky kisses your shoulder again.

"I know, but we risked it. I don't want to make you take a risk. Even if I don't spill inside you..." You don’t like the fact that he’s right. What you don’t realize is that your face is showing what you are thinking. "I can use my tongue if you want." He smiles, trying to find another solution.

“The point is testing your limits, Sergeant.”

"My limits of my tongue count." He kisses you for a few seconds.

“You are so annoying, rejecting my offer, Sargaent.”

Bucky gasps. "I did not! I just tried to look out for you."

“It’s okay.” You make a move to get up. “Let’s get cleaned up.”

He grabs you by your wrist. "Don't do this to me."

“I’m just listening to what you are saying.”

He frowns. "Then why do I feel like the bad guy?"

“Because you rejected this…” You show yourself. “A pretty girl’s offer for more sex.

"My pretty girl wants sex even without protection?"

“She does.” You purse your lips, feeling a bit vulnerable and trying to cover it.

"Then…" He pulls you closer and kisses you gently, holding your face with both of his hands.

“You love torturing me,” you say between kisses.

"Not as much as you do."

"Wanna do the honors or should I?" He grabs his cock with a hand, waiting for you to move or just say something.

“Oh, be my guest. Do whatever you wanna do. Just pull out in time.”

"Promise." He kisses you before getting inside you in one swift motion.

There are no words to describe how tired you feel. Exhausted comes close, but it doesn’t cover the pleasure you are still feeling despite your jelly legs. You aren’t sure if you made the best or the worst decision of your life when you suggested testing his limits because you lost the count of the orgasms you had. You are ruined. Simply ruined by him. No man will ever compare.

"Did I pass?" Bucky asks breathlessly, holding you against his chest. “Am I husband material?"

You can’t believe he is still wondering that. This wasn’t meant to be a husband material test, but you gotta admit that he passed with flying colors.

“You know we weren’t testing that, right?”

"Such a loss." He plays amused. "What did we test then?"

“How quickly your body can recover, and now we can safely say that you are not a regular guy.”

Bucky sighs. "Then what am I?"

“You are the best thing that ever happened to me.” You run your hand on his cheek, gently caressing it before giving him a big kiss. You wonder why he wants to be a regular guy. He’s perfect the way he is.

Bucky immediately melts under you. "That's not nice. You read my thoughts and use them against me," he explains more emotionally than before.

“Maybe we are just sharing the same thoughts and feelings.”

"We are a perfect match."

“It seems so.” You quickly agree. “And you are perfect the way you are. I get that you don’t know what exactly this is but it seems cool so far.” You try to put his mind at ease. “And no one knows about it. You don’t have to be like Steve, you can keep being yourself.”

"You're so sweet." He leaves a soft kiss on your hair.

“I’m not usually sweet. Maybe it’s the afterglow talking.” You joke to lighten the mood.

He snorts. "You're the sweetest person I've ever met."

“Now that’s a lie.” You keep the same tone.

"If that's a lie, I am a normal guy."

“That’s even a bigger lie. You are nowhere close to being a normal guy. Normal guys suck.”

Bucky's fingers travel to your belly. "Is that so?"

“No, no, no.” You try to avoid getting tickled. “Bucky, please.”

"Say you're the sweetest girl in the world, and I might show you some mercy."

“Fine, fine, fine.” You accept the defeat. “I’m the sweetest girl in the world. Okay?”

"I can't hear you." He tickles you harder.

“BUCKY!” You protest, but he doesn’t stop. “I’M THE SWEETEST GIRL IN THE WORLD.”

"Good." He finally lets go, grabbing your face just to give you the sloppiest kiss you've ever shared. “Now close your eyes. You need to sleep."

You wanna be mad at him for tickling you hard, but you can’t.

“Oh, I gotta clean myself a little first.”

“Let me help you. Where do you keep your towels?"

You already thought he was perfect, but he’s showing you he’s even better than you thought. How is he real? How did you get this lucky? You don’t know.

“Just sit down, baby. I can handle those.”

"Let's make a deal: I change the sheets while you clean if you want." You wanna say no and you can handle those. but you are so tired.

“Sounds like a good plan.” You can’t deny that it’s efficient, and you wanna see if he can do it right. This is the real marriage material test, but he won’t know until you see the results. You hand him the new sheets and leave him to work, so you can clean yourself pretty quickly.

You really made a big mess. Cleaning takes longer than you expected, but when you come back, you find a freshly made bed.

"Ready for bed now?"

“Yeah.” You inspect the sheets. He made the bed perfectly. “Unbelievable.” You didn’t mean to say that out loud, but it came out anyway. “Perfectly made. I think I will have to marry you, Sergeant Barnes.”

He smiles widely. "So I passed my test?"

“Yep.” You move onto the bed. “If you can cook as well, I won’t ever let you go. Say goodbye to your bachelor days.”

Bucky pulls you to him. "Goodbye, bachelor days."

You laugh while kissing him.

“Let’s sleep.” You snuggle closer while he yawns.

You have been awake for a couple of minutes, just trying to fully wake up and freely watch Bucky sleeping. He looks so pretty and innocent.

Long lashes, kissable lips, big arms. God, why does he have to be this pretty?

You lean in, with the intention to give him a kiss like a normal person, but god, those arms look so biteable. Before you can change your mind, you bite his arm and watch him slowly wake up. Then you start giving him small kisses: on his arm, on his cheeks, and finally when he opens his eyes, on his lips.

"Good morning." He gives you an innocent look.

“Good morning, handsome.” You kiss his cheek again.

"Handsome?" His voice is so raspy in the morning.

“Yeah, handsome. Very very handsome.”

He smiles when you snuggle closer to him. "So sweet. I have a question. Do you have a toothbrush for me?" His eyes are semi-closed as he asks.

“Oh, sure. I can find one.”

"I didn't realize I will stay over. I'm sorry for wasting one of yours."

“Oh, shut up.” You push him a little playfully. “You can waste anything you want.”

You come closer to give him a kiss. You don’t care about the toothbrush or anything else. You are just enjoying being in bed with him.

"My breath smells really bad." He shakes his head, embarrassed. You shrug and give him a kiss anyway. You are sure your breath doesn’t smell good either, but that doesn’t stop you. "Such a stubborn lady."

“I just don’t care, and for your information, it doesn’t smell bad.” You keep kissing him.

"If you continue, doll, we might end up doing something else."

“Hmm.” You act like you don’t know what that means.

“Hmm?”

“Yeah, hmm.”

"What can it mean?"

“No idea.” You don’t move away, you don’t kiss him. You just look at him.

"Okay then." He gives you an innocent look. "Time for me to go to the bathroom."

You kiss his cheek, giving him space to get up. He pouts a bit disappointed but doesn't say anything.

“What?”

"Nothing. So where do I find a toothbrush?" He finally gets up.

“I will show you.” You follow him to the bathroom.

"Also, do you have any allergies?”

His question catches you off guard. “Not that I know off. Why?”

"Gonna cook something for you."

“You really want that ring, don’t you?” You joke with a big smile on your face.

His laugh fills the bathroom. "You want to give me a ring?"

“How else am I gonna make sure others know you are taken?”

"You don't need a ring for that. At all."

“Yeah, you are right. I was just joking.”

He smiles. "Wait for me in the bed. Whatever happens, you stay there, okay?"

“Okay.” You raise your hands in defeat.

"Good girl, go now." He pats your ass before letting you go.

You can’t help but smile on your way back to the bed. If this is how being married to Bucky is gonna be, you are down for it.

"Come on, another bite. Please."

“Fine.” You take another bite. It’s delicious but you are full. So full. The breakfast he made was simply amazing. You might really need to find a ring to put on him, because he’s definitely husband material.

"Good girl, and drink more water."

“I’m so full,” you say after taking a sip. “The food was just amazing.”

"You're full, huh?" He snorts.

“I am.” You give him a look, not understanding what he means.

"I think you can take more."

“No more food, please.”

"Oh, sweetheart." Bucky gives you a smirk. "That is not what I meant."

“Oh!” You finally get it and start to giggle wile takes a bite of pancakes from your plate.

"Oh, indeed."

“You wanna?”

"Do you?" He stares back.

“You are so annoying.”

"Annoying enough to get you to kiss me?"

You give him a short kiss. “Thanks for the breakfast.”

"I didn't have mine, though."

“You can eat this.” You offer your leftovers. You’re sure that they’re more than enough to make him feel full, too.

"But I don't want that.” He whines. "I want you."

“You can have me.”

"Want you on my face."

“Again?” You sound surprised. “I thought you would want something that you would enjoy as well.”

"Excuse you? I enjoy that." His tone shows that he’s totally offended.

“Oh, you do?”

Bucky laughs so loud. "I cannot believe it wasn't clear."

“I mean… I’m not used to that. Maybe that’s why.”

"The question is if you’d like to do that again."

“Oh, yeah.” You nod eagerly. “I would love that.”

"Then…" He places the food carefully on the table next to the bed.

You bite your lip while getting up and taking your underwear off. He watches you excited as he gets on his back completely, waiting. This time you know what to do. So you get back to the bed and straddle his face.

"Use me however you want, okay? Don't stop."

“Tap on my thighs if you want me to stop, okay?” He nods and you lower yourself completely. He doesn’t even wait for a few seconds. “Jesus, Bucky.” You breath out. It’s hard not to make a sound when he works that enthusiastically. He doesn't say anything in return, too focused on spreading your lips with his tongue. You moan loudly and start to ride his face, and you realize shortly he loves it as his hands help you quicken your pace just the way you like it.

“Oh, god…” You try to get support from the headboard. “This feels so good.”

He groans against you, so hard, thrusting his hips in the air because you taste amazing.

You start to move a little faster as you feel like you are getting closer to your release. His nose starts to bump up against your clit from time to time and that adds an another level of pleasure.

"Keep going," he says breathlessly before taking you by surprise and slapping your ass twice.

“Fuuck. I’m- I’m so close.”

"Hmm." He slaps your right ass cheek one more time as his tongue moves to your clit. The sounds you are making don’t sound human anymore. You are aware of it, but it’s so hard to care when you start to come so hard on his tongue. He doesn't let go or stop licking you until he feels you are done, then he gently helps you move.

"Hi."

“Ahh.” You struggle to find your voice. “Hi.”

He giggles while cleaning his mouth with the back of his hand. "Feel good?"

“God, I’m keeping you. That’s it. That was my last drop.”

Bucky moans excited. "Are you proposing to me, love?"

“Well, not like this, and I gotta buy a ring first,” you jokingly answer.

"Hmm." He brings you close to his face so he can kiss you. "Maybe I will accept."

“Maybe? What can I do to guarantee a yes?”

Bucky smiles. "Who knows?"

“Maybe I should return the favor.”

"No need for that."

“Wouldn’t that help though? I wanna increase my chances.” You continue with that same joking tone.

"A little. What is your plan?"

“Give you head and then propose I guess.”

He suddenly blushes. “I didn’t expect you to say it so openly but love to hear what you think."

“Then I will keep speaking like this.” You move your face to give him a kiss on the lips. “So… You want it or not?”

Bucky nods and dutifully stays on his back, opening his legs more. You carefully undress him and settle between his legs. He’s already half hard and he looks so pretty laying like that, waiting for your next move. You start slowly, just moving your hands up and down, letting him enjoy it.

You lean down and start leaving kisses to him all over his skin. "Ahh." You move onto his thighs, placing your hand on his cock without moving it.

"Gonna torture me?"

“Is this your definition of torture?”

"I'm a man."

“And I am a woman who enjoys what she is doing.” You don’t give him a chance to respond. You run the tip of your tongue from the bottom to the top of his cock.

"Oh, God." He closes his eyes for a couple of minutes.

“Open your eyes if you want me to continue.”

"Sorry..." he groans, opening them.

“Look at me the whole time, okay? Watch what I am doing to you. Think about this moment whenever you feel like giving up.” Then you finally take him inside your mouth.

"Oh, Jesus." His hands immediately get into your hair. "N-no warning?" You shake your head while your mouth is full of him. "I don't think I could forget this even if I wanted to."

You hum around his cock before you start to properly bob your head. You try to look at him, memorizing his reactions and see what he likes the most.

"Use your tongue more around the head, please."

You do what he asks, twirling your tongue around the head and watching him fall apart.

"Baby," he hisses. "Just like that."

You wrap your hand around the base after taking your mouth off it. Your fingers work on him while you take one of his balls inside your mouth, gently sucking to see if he likes it or not. He's so close as he bites his bottom lip.

"You're a dirty little girl.” You hum in response, your mouth being too full to be able to answer him. "Wanna paint your face." It feels like the words are just spilling from his mouth.

You finally let go of his ball.

“My face, huh?” You ask before taking him back in your mouth, swirling your tongue around the head once again.

"You're a dirty girl, and I have to a make you dirtier. Would you like that?"

You shake your head in agreement, then you start moving your mouth and hand at the same time, going up and down until he quickly pulls out when he feels he's coming. And just like that, your face and hair are getting covered. You close your eyes and for some reason stick your tongue out.

"God, baby. You drive me insane." He finishes coming and stares at the way you lick some of his come. You can only open one of your eyes as his come is dripping on the other one. Then you wipe it off from your eyelid and lick it clean. "And you will make me get hard again."

“We know that doesn’t take much.” You giggle, remembering last night.

"You're so pretty like this. I can't..." He smiles watching you clean yourself more.

“I am not sure about that.” You smile. “I should go and clean myself properly.”

"Should we take a bath?" He excitedly asks

“Oh, that sounds great.”

Bucky helps her get up. "Let's go."

"Look at this," he leans in to kiss your forehead, taking the cup from you. "Thank you."

“After last night and this morning, the coffee was needed. At least for me.”

"I am human too, you know? I need coffee."

“You are a super human.” You smile before taking a sip.

"I hope my tongue is a super tongue, too." He winks and takes a few sips from his coffee. "So good. Now, I have something and I forgot to give it to you since we were... busy."

“Oh?”

Bucky nods and brings his hand into his left pocket. "Like I promised." Then he takes out a small wrapped up package.

“What is this?” You take it and quickly open it without destroying the wrapping. “Oh my god, Bucky! You got me new stockings!”

“Wanna try them on?"

“Right now?” You are surprised by his request.

"Yep. If you want, of course."

“You just want me to get undressed in front of you again.” You joke while standing up. You don’t mind trying them at all.

"Don't act as if you don't."

“See you get undressed or get undressed myself?” You take the stockings out of the package while talking.

"Both.” He watches you as you put them on, fascinated. “How do they feel?"

“They feel really nice.” You move your leg a little, inspecting the stockings. “High quality. Where did you even find this?”

"Pulled some strings. Being a soldier has its perks, you know? Being friends with Captain America, too."

“You did not!”

"What?" He laughs at your tone.

“You used your Captain America advantage to get me stockings?”

"Yep."

“Oh my god!” You have a huge smile on your face when you are walking toward him. And without a word, you sit on his lap, straddling him and wrapping your arms around his neck. “Thank you. These are much better than the ones you ripped off.” You give him a kiss on his right cheek. “So you get a kiss.”

"So generous." He kisses you properly.

“Such a gentleman.” You pause for a few seconds before adding. “With dirty tendencies.”

"Well, I got a dirty girlfriend."

“Please, I’m pretty innocent.” You move away from his lap. “We didn’t even meet up in my apartment because that would be inappropriate.” You finally snort. “At least that’s what my friends think.”

"And you call them friends?"

“Gotta keep my reputation intact.” You shrug. That’s the way it is. “Oh, speaking of friends! I gotta ask you something otherwise Cassie will kill me.”

"What?"

“She wanted me to ask about Steve. Apparently, she hasn’t heard from him.”

"Oh…" It's all that Bucky says.

“Oh?”

"I didn't know."

“She wants to know if he ever mentions her.”

He doesn't know how to answer for a couple of seconds. Steve has never been into romance. "He's very focused on the future plans against Hydra."

“Well, that’s not surprising. If he thought about her, he would find a way to contact her, I guess.”

"He doesn't think about pretty much anyone, I am sorry."

You shrug. “I hope she doesn’t shoot the messenger.”

"I am sorry. Steve is very... particular. About life and work. He wanted to be in the army for so long, he doesn't see anything else."

“That’s… sad.” You reach for the coffee mug. “What about you?”

"Obviously not interested in sex or romantic life." He jokes once again, hoping that it would change the mood.

“I meant about life and work, but we can talk about that too,” you say with a smile.

"I don't like fighting, you know? It's never ending." Even his voice sounds tired as he talks about it.

“I sensed that you don’t enjoy fighting, but I think you are pretty good at it. At least it seems that way, and I feel like you aren’t focused on the fight, but mostly on what can come after when this is all done.”

Bucky sighs, approving what you said with a nod. There is something scary and confusing about what the future. If he survives. What will change? After so much death and loss, what will happen?

"I hate this so much."

You have this urge to hug him and tell him it’s gonna be fine. Yet you don’t know if that’s the truth and you don’t wanna lie. “I hate it, too. It’s like our lives are completely revolving around the war.“

"Yes, but let's not think about it, baby." He kisses your forehead.

“It’s easier not to think about it when you are around.”

"You help me with that, too."

“Oh, do I?” You smile. “What do you think about instead of war when you are with me?”

"I think only about you."

“Another thing we have in common.”

Bucky smiles. "You're so smooth."

“Smooth? I meant I am thinking about myself, too.” You stick your tongue out a bit cheekily.

"Nice try." He snorts, amused by your comment. "I totally understand why you'd think about yourself, though."

“Why would I think about myself?” You wanna know what he’s thinking.

"You're funny, amazing, beautiful, smart." He kisses your cheeks. "You got everything."

“And what about you?”

"What about me?" He asks confused.

“What do you have?”

"Strings to buy you more stockings."

“Oh!” You both start to laugh. “That’s not all, though.”

"Right, I also got Captain America as my friend."

“You know that’s not what I meant.”

Bucky sighs. "I don't have much to offer unfortunately. I have 4 siblings."

“Jesus, do you really not know?”

"If you mean sexually..."

“Not only that. Stop underestimating yourself, you have a lot to offer. Look at me.” He lifts his head as you asked. “I love spending time with you. It doesn’t matter what we are talking about, it’s always interesting. You are smart, funny, thoughtful and so so pretty.”

Bucky melts under your eyes. "No one called me pretty before."

“You are so pretty, you have no idea. These eyes…” You touch the corner of his eyelid. “These lines,” You caress the smile lines. “These lips…”

He blushes instantly feeling your touch and brings your hand closer to his lips in order to kiss it. "You're so sweet."

After spending a little bit more time in your apartment, you and Bucky decide to go for a walk. He’s here for a limited amount of time and he should make the most of it. Maybe you can stop by a book or a record store together, eat something he craves and enjoy this sunny day to the fullest. You don't even realize how close you are until you feel his hand touching yours, subtly trying to hold it.

You feel butterflies in your stomach. You did a lot of stuff together so far, but you haven’t held hands yet. Not publicly. Not like this. You open your hand, just showing you want him to hold it, and he does proudly.

"Do you want some ice cream, sweetheart?"

You take a deep breath, trying to calm yourself down. It’s so hard to fight the urge to smile. This might be the best day of your life. The sun is shining, Bucky is by your side, holding your hand. You don’t think life gets better than this.

“I would love that.” He smiles before leaning in to kiss your head. Suddenly, you feel the urge to say what you have been thinking. He should know.

“You know that I will wait for you if you want, right?” You can’t help it. All the marriage and proposal jokes aside, you really want him in your life.

Bucky stops walking suddenly. "Doll..." He sighs, still holding your hand. "I don't want to make you go through this."

“You think I won’t go through it if we act like this means nothing, but you are wrong.”

"I did not say that! This is not nothing, but I can't be engaged to you and leave you behind like this."

“Who said anything about being engaged?”

"We talked about getting married a lot. So I thought..."

“I didn’t say I don’t want to. I just meant that we don’t have to get engaged if that’s your concern.”

"I don't know. Either way I can't let you go through that." He shakes his head. The last thing he wants is for her to wait for him not knowing if he will survive. "Because if I die..."

“If you die… I would be devastated regardless. It doesn’t matter even if we decide not to see each other anymore.”

He doesn't say anything else, instead, he pulls you to him in the tightest hug you've ever felt.

"I don't want to lose you."

“Believe me, I don’t wanna lose you, either.” You wrap your hands around his body, burying your face into his chest. “My kidnapping offer still stands.”

You hear him snort. "You're just making up excuses to have me tied up."

“Do I need to?”

"No." He breaks the hug and reaches out for your hand again. "My future wife doesn't need excuses. You're stuck with me."

“And you are stuck with me.”

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or0ch1maru · 4 months

Note

So lately I’ve been noticing I get sudden urges to bite things I think are cute. I think it’s called cute aggression? But anywho, how do you think the Akatsuki members would react to their S/O biting them out of the blue as a means of showing affection. Or someone who doesn’t communicate in the normal way and uses more touchy-feely means of communication?

Omg this is so freaking cute. What’s funny is, I’ve been having the same urges too. One day I’m like let me sink my teeth into Tobi’s arm(only if he was real) but on a real note, I’m feeling sm better. I’m still stuffed up but that can’t be helped lol

Warnings: mention of head, sexual innuendoes(just had to spice this up just a lil bit)

Hidan:

•idk why or when this thought came into my mind but I fully believe Hidan gets turned on when bitten. (Please tell me at least one of you see that too)

•anyway, when he figures out it’s an affectionate thing, you know damn well he’d show off his bite marks from you with pride.

•if he hasn’t felt your teeth sink into him at least once a day, he’ll get worried. Feeling that suddenly you don’t care for him. And he’ll cling to you until you bite him or at least give him some kind of reassurance. (He’s a big softy)

Kakuzu:

•would be caught off guard at first and will most likely hit you with the good ole’ “the hell you doing?” Question. Kakuzu would watch with a raised eyebrow as you explain your reasonings but shrug it off

•just like Hidan, he wouldn’t care who saw the bite marks, or what assumptions people would come up with when noticed. He’d be content that you have your own special way of letting him know you love him

•Kakuzu would purposely go without his cloak, or shirt for that matter, leaving his arms fully exposed just for you. His large arms would wrap themselves around you, pinning you to him just to feel your teeth in his skin longer(would genuinely enjoy the pain, a good hurt he’d call it)

Konan:

•would let out a soft whimper or even a moan when she feels your teeth sink into her skin. Cheeks flushed when she discovered the reason behind your sudden chomp

•really enjoys when you bite her forearms or collar bone area. Despite your constant apologies for making her bleed once(it left a scar) Konan loves it. Runs her fingers over the spot daily. A reminder of her love waiting at home for her

•the act of biting May come off aggressive or sexual to others, but Konan considers it a kind and intimate gesture. A love without having to use words all the time makes her heart flutter and loves actions as she isn’t one to talk too much

Pain:

•his curiosity is peaked the very first time you do it, he goes over the many possibilities of what it could mean. He gives you a soft smile and a gentle caress when you tell him “you’re cute, can’t help it” as an answer

•loves, and I mean LOVES when you bite near his chakra rods. His skin is so sensitive there and it just does something to him. Sometimes you might end up with your face buried into the mattress or better yet, in his neck, sinking your teeth into him as he fucks you like his life depended on it

•loses his mind when he looks down and sees you look up at him with your adorable doe eyes while your teeth are locked in. (Your favorite place to hangout is under his desk while he works on planning missions and tasks so time to time youll chomp his thigh or the one hand that sits in his lap)

Tobi:

•lets out a yelp the first time it happens, catching the poor boy completely off his guard. “W-what was that for senpai?” He’d stutter out, looking down at you through the eye hole of his mask. “You think I’m cute? Really? Aww you’re so kind to Tobi”

•after that first time, he’ll encourage you to do it. Wanting it multiple times a day sometimes. On other occasions, he’ll tease you, and make you work for it. “You want to bite Tobi? You oughta catch me first” he’d explain before bolting down a random corridor

•now, if you happen to catch him when he’s in a mood, Tobi will turn to Obito so quickly. “Baby thinks I’m cute eh? Why don’t you show me how cute you really think I am” his tone turns almost stern as he guides you by the neck until you’re on your pretty little knees in front of him, the tip of his cock prodding the back of your throat

Zetsu:

•would be very confused at first, and would take a while to process the whole thing. “You really think I’m cute? But why bite me? That’s kinda backwards isn’t it?” Black Zetsu would ask. “It’s a form of a compliment. I understand now” white Zetsu would coo towards you

•Zetsu would pull you into his lap whenever he’s feeling a bit more needy, giving you silent permission to sink your lil teeth into him.

•wouldn’t care where you bite him, as long as you’re careful/gentle when it comes to his leaf’s? Pinchers? Prefers you stayed below his neck. Arms, chest, thighs, are acceptable places to him.

Kisame:

•just like Hidan, would probably assume it’s you Initiating sex, would be turned on right away and would most likely end up fucking you that first time. Would feel bad that it was a sign of affection and he turned it sexual.

•LOVES feeling you dig your teeth into his biceps. And has asked for you to make him bleed. Wants his upper arms to be littered in cute teeth scars. Kisame adores physical touch, and truly cherishes any form of intimacy you give him even if to others it may come of bizarre

•isn’t worried about being vocal. Will let out groans, grunts, and the occasional moan whenever you sink your pearly whites into his skin.

Itachi:

•realized from the very beginning what your bites meant and he fell in love with you all over again. Apart from having someone love him the way he’s craved it all his life, the way you SHOW him love is what sends him to the moon

•plays with your hair, rubs your back, or caresses the side of your face, as sit against him with his flesh between your teeth

•finds your biting to be angelic almost. The feelings that wash over him when you show your love for him makes him euphoric

Sasori:

•like Zetsu, he would be kinda confused at first, also trying to understand the science behind ‘cuteness aggression’

•Sasori would become concerned, hoping you don’t hurt your jaw or fuck up your teeth(since the man is a living puppet I couldn’t imagine him being considered ‘soft) but let’s just say he was soft and flesh like, he would be intrigued by the feeling

•I feel like he wouldn’t get turned on per se, but would definitely get some kind of thrill from it. Would love when you focus mostly on his neck or shoulders

Deidara:

•like Kisame, our explosive babe would be rather vocal about it. But he’d be more whiny. Whimpers, soft cries, whines would slip from his lips every time he feels your lips touch his skin and your teeth dig into him(deidara gets flustered so quickly when it comes to you)

•would be down and into the idea from the very beginning. Doesn’t even question you, just shrugs and encourages you.

•if you happen to bite him and he gets in the mood, which happens time to time because our baby is so enamored with you, i definitely think he mouth hands would come into play somehow.

Orochimaru

•who are we kidding? This man is INTO it. He loves sinking his fangs into you in general so when you turn around and do the same back, he’s so ready to put a ring on it.

•would beg and plea for you to leave scars on his skin and make him bleed. Wants you to nip and bite in places that are visible, but also doesn’t mind if you go for his chest

•his hands would find your hair, or would gently stroke your back whenever you decide to grace him with your biting. Orochimaru would feel honored that you find him cute enough that words can’t express it, that you have to do something physical to show it

I hope you enjoy this! I can’t wait to be sent more and more requests😩I’m loving everything I’ve been sent in! Love you all😘😘

#akatsuki #orochimaru #akatsuki members #orochimaru stories #konan headcanons #zetsu x reader #kakuzu headcanons #sasori akatsuki #hidan headcanon #pain nagato #deidara x reader #obito headcanons #itachi headcanons #kisame headcanons

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argentiluver · 11 months

Text

“Smile!" || Blade x G/N Child! Reader (PLATONIC) - Honkai: Star Rail

A/N: This is my first post, so if it's bad in any way; please tell me and feel free to give me some helpful tips! The reader is 11 in this as well which explains the childish behavior. I was at first going to make them 12-14 tbh, but I wanted them to seem more child-like.

"Uh…How about this one!”

You were desperately trying to get Blade to laugh at your jokes, which were genuinely terrible, just to see him smile, but it was to no avail as Blade only sat there with his face as flat as a board.

“Knock, Knock!” You began with a grin, leaning closer as you rocked your legs back and forth in your seat.

“Oh God, and I thought we were done with these ones…” Blade sighed before turning back to you tiredly, “Who’s there?”

“Interrupting ghost!”

“Interrupting ghost w—”

“BOO!” You suddenly cut him off with a playful grin, jumping on him, causing Blade to let out a startled grunt and swiftly catch you by your waist as you fell in his lap.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Blade's face was as still as a rock. It's like he was being held at a gunpoint to not smile at the joke you just told him, or even the other terrible ones.

"Are you done yet?" Blade asked in annoyance, his eyes percing into yours as he held the child's smaller figure in his grasp, your hands thrown over his neck.

But deep inside the swordsman, he loved all the child's foolish jokes, and he even saw them as his own little sibling. He'd just never admit it.

The 11 year old only groaned, frustrated with how he'd never laugh or even crack one, little smile at their jokes.

"Come on! Just give me one smile, Bladie!" You whined, tugging at his cheeks to widen his lips so it can look he's smiling, yet it just fell straight back into a frown, "Why are you so hard to crack?!"

"Because showing any emotions, similar to happiness, is weakness, Y/N." Blade answered simply, his voice deep and raspy as he lifted you off his lap with his eyes still stuck to yours blankly, "You'll understand that once you grow older."

Blade was a man of duty. Duty to his life, his work, his role, and many others. Showing emotions was a sign of weakness to him; an admission of defeat. But deep down, he felt things. Much of it. He just didn't allow himself to do so. So when you made him crack a smile with your silly jokes, he got frustrated at himself. For breaking his code, even just once.

"Uh-huh…Whatever you say, Edge-Lord…" You mumbled, your face forming into a deadpan as you turned to the side.

Your words however earned you a smack across the head from Blade, causing you yelp in surprise.

“I WAS JOKING!”

“Find better humor then.”

You only grumbled to yourself, slumping against the dark sofa you were sitting on before a smirk crossed your face, "Wait, so does that mean Kafka's weak? She always laughs at my jokes!" You retort with a cocky grin.

"Kafka isn’t laughing at your jokes, she’s laughing at you."

Blade's cold words earned a huff from you, offended by how harsh he had said it.

You and Blade had a somewhat sibling-like relationship which Kafka and Silverwolf relentlessly teased Blade about, yet he refused to admit he saw you as anything near a sibling or family member in that matter.

“Hmph! Fine! Don’t expect me to talk to you for the whole day then!” You pouted, pretending to be mad at him so he can finally give in and smile at you.

Yet all you got in response was silence as he continued to sit there, his arms folded and staring straight ahead with his eyes closed.

But, he was slightly amused with your words since he knew you can’t go one second without following him around like the curious and naive child you are, usually holding onto his bandaged hand half the time.

You stared in-front of you for awhile in silence before your eyes slowly began to droop tiredly and you turned back to Blade.

"Blade?" You called quietly after a moment of silence, earning a lazy "Hm?" in response, "Can I…Sleep in your lap…?” You trailed off, feeling ashamed for giving in so easily and acknowledging him even after you said you wouldn’t, “Please?”

It wasn’t really a surprise you were so tired…You did just come back from a mission with Kafka, you didn’t do much since your role in missions is just to be the lookout due to your young age. You were slightly tired when you came back of course, and it seems like the exhaustion finally kicked in.

If this were any other person, Blade would've flatly said no, but this was you...Blade didn't understand why, but he could never say no to you.

Blade then arched a brow at your words, red eyes opening, and he held back the teasing smirk that threatened to creep upon his lips, “Didn’t you say you wouldn’t speak to me for the whole day?”

“Oh shut up!” You glared, pulling your knees up to your chest with a frown that looked more like a pout, “So can I sleep in your lap or what?” You continued quietly, turning away and pressing your cheek against your kneecaps in embarrassment with your words.

The older man was quiet for a while. He didn't like being affectionate, he didn't like being kind either. He just didn't like to give in. But to you? He would always make an exception.

So slowly, he lifted the child up and plopped them in his lap, holding their surprised figure close. There were no words spoken, but deep inside, Blade felt something. Maybe it was affection. Maybe it was a little bit of love. Perhaps it was admiration or fondness!

But he was never able to figure out what it exactly was.

Your eyes slightly widened in shock at the fact the so-called “cold and heartless” Blade was carrying you in his arms as if you were his child before a grin spread across your face and you nuzzled into his chest and pulled your legs closer for warmth.

You felt two arms wrap around you to keep you warm and another held your head closer to their chest, yet you didn’t need to open your eyes to see who it exactly was since you already knew.

Silence filled the air for awhile as you laid in his arms before you finally broke it.

“You want to hear another jo—”

“Don’t ruin it.”

This kinda reminded me of the audio "Leave me alone, baby! …..AUGHHH YOU'RE MY BABYYY! YOU'RE MY BABY AND I LOVE YOU SM" blade fr fr

#blade hsr #hsr x reader #honkai star rail #child reader #platonic #sibling relationship #hsr kafka #kafka #silver wolf #silverwolf #hsr silver wolf #stellaron hunters

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myosotisa · 2 months

Text

Sleep Well - m.m.

Matt Murdock x Reader

‖ summary: You're still awake when Matt gets home, allowing him the opportunity to coax you into bed with him.

‖ tags: fluff, like rot your teeth sweet fluff. established relatonship, sharing a bed, you know he's daredevil. gender neutral reader, no pronouns, no y/n. nicknames for reader are sweetheart, baby, and buttercup.

‖ word count: 1.4k ‖ Read on AO3

It is with a small amount of concern that Matt notices you’re still awake by the time he gets back from his ‘night job’. He can tell pretty quickly what you’ve been doing all this time – the buzzing hum and the heat coming off of your overworked desktop suggest many, many consecutive hours of playtime.

It’s certainly not the first time he’s found you still awake and gaming when he came home, but it is the 4th night this week. And while it might be a bit hypocritical of him, he’s a bit worried about your lack of sleep after so many late nights.

You must have your headphones on because you don’t react when he drops into the apartment, remaining blissfully focused and unaware as he strips out of his gear and slips into the bathroom to clean up.

He is genuinely surprised when he successfully gets through bandaging a couple scrapes and changing into a pair of pajama pants without drawing your attention. You’re normally pretty aware of your surroundings, even at home during the night, so you must be extremely focused on whatever you’re playing. It’s got him curious, for sure. He normally asks about the games you’re playing; he could listen to you ramble on and on about the gameplay mechanics and storylines and what you enjoy and what you don’t enjoy for hours. He can’t really participate himself, and some of the things you say goes right over his head, but he follows along as best he can and asks follow up questions just because he loves hearing you talk about something you’re passionate about. It helps that you seem to enjoy getting to talk about it too.

Resolving to ask you what you’ve been playing recently that has you so fixated, he finally walks up behind you and lays a careful hand on your shoulder to get your attention.

You still jump in surprise, an inevitability no matter how gentle he was, and immediately slip your headphones off of your ears. “Hey, how long have you been back?”

The corner of his mouth tilts up in amusement as he presses the tips of his fingers into the tense muscles at the base of your neck. “About 15 minutes or so. You were really tuned in.”

Your heartbeat quickens slightly, heat pooling in your face in a show of embarrassment. “Yeah, I guess so. Sorry about that. Everything go okay tonight? Need anything patched up?” You’re quick to turn your rolling chair toward him, legs unfolding from under you as you move to stand, but he uses both hands on your shoulders to keep you firmly seated.

“Everything’s fine, just a couple scrapes and bruises. I’m all cleaned up already,” he reassures you, noticing how you immediately relax back into your chair as his thumbs press into the knots along your shoulders. “Have you been having fun? You’ve been playing a ton recently.”

“Yeah, I’ve kinda put a disgusting amount of hours into this game since it came out,” you admit bashfully, rubbing your palm along your jawline. “I wasn’t planning on staying up again tonight but I guess I lost track of time. Sorry, Matt.”

He chuckles, his voice rougher from time spent playing the Devil, and squeezes your shoulders a few times in what he hopes is a comforting matter. “Why are you apologizing to me? You’re the one who is going to be grumpy in the morning.”

His teasing makes your face heat further, which only delights him more. “Yeah, but you’re going to have to deal with me being grumpy in the morning,” you murmur, looking back over to the screen to click through the process of saving and quitting.

Warm, strong hands still firmly on your loosening shoulders, he leans down to graze the tip of his nose along the shell of your ear. “Well then it’s a good thing I know just how to fix your grumpy moods, isn’t it, sweetheart?” His warm breath skates across your neck to match his low-toned voice, both things together succeeding in sending a shiver down your spine.

Setting your desktop to shut down, along with the lighting around your space, sends the room into a comfortable darkness. “Careful, Murdock,” you warn playfully as you learn back further into his secure touch, “keep saying things like that and we might not be sleeping at all.”

He hums thoughtfully, the sound vibrating deep in his chest, before he presses a firm kiss to your temple and stands upright again. “Well, we can’t have that. I need all the beauty rest I can manage.”

You mumble something along the lines of ‘yeah right’ but don’t resist as he coaxes you out of your desk chair and toward the bedroom. He keeps his hands on you all the way, leading by your shoulders or your hips or your waist. When he deposits you on the edge of your side of the bed, he gives you another sweet kiss on the forehead while a promise to be right back.

He returns with 2 glasses of water, handing one to you and requesting you drink a good portion of it before he brings his own up to his mouth. You’re momentarily distracted by the strong lines of his body as he raises the glass – the subtle bulge of his bicep and the flex of his throat as he greedily swallows the water down. You’re still staring when he lowers his glass again, pink lips glossy with water and his unfocused eyes narrowed slightly in mischief.

“Watching me drink water doesn’t count as drinking water yourself,” he remarks with a cheeky grin, slightly tipping his glass toward you. “Drink up, buttercup.”

Firmly rolling your eyes at his cocky attitude, you still tip back the glass and drink at least half all at once. You hadn’t realized how thirsty you had gotten while gaming, and feel your heart warm with love at Matt having realized that and forcing some water in you to keep you from going to bed dehydrated.

Wonderful, horrible, thoughtful man.

After determining you’ve had enough to satisfy him, he easily takes the glass from you and sets it on the table beside the bed, even though you were more than capable of doing so yourself. By the time he rounds the bed to his side, you’ve tucked yourself beneath the duvet and laid your head down on your pillow. When you’re both fully settled, you let out matching sighs of contentment, which makes you both laugh softly.

“Y’know, as much as I worry about you not getting enough sleep, this is nice.” He rolls onto his side toward you, propping himself up on his elbow as his other hand reaches out to brush against your arm. “Coming home to you still being awake, getting ready for bed with you, having your voice be the last thing I hear before I go to sleep…” He trails off with a happy sigh, looking entirely too warm and cozy and happy for your heart to take.

Scooting across the silk sheets toward him, he easily welcomes you into his arms, folding one around your shoulders as you rest your head on his bare chest. “Matthew, if you don’t stop being so adorable right now, I’m going to eat you.”

He chuckles again, this time more movement than sound, and squeezes you in tighter against his side. He’s radiating warmth – and the lull of his steady breathing and safe hold on you has your eyelids getting heavy fast. Dropping his voice down to a near whisper in the dark, he rasps, “I could say the same thing, baby. But right now we need to get some sleep.”

You hum a noncommittal sound, letting your eyes fall closed as you snuggle into him and settle. After several moments of breathing deeply and enjoying the comfort of the moment, you whisper a, “Hey Matt?”

He mumbles a deep, “Hmm?,” while sounding on the edge of falling asleep already.

Tipping your head back to look up at him, you take a deep breath and feel compelled to remind him, “I love you.”

His lips twist in a smile though his eyes stay blissfully closed. “I love you too, sweetheart. Sleep well.”

thanks for reading, please leave a like and reblog with a comment if you enjoyed!!

#i haven't posted for this fandom before please be gentle #but that catholic man has bewitched me body and soul #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you #matt murdock fluff #matt murdock fanfiction #matt murdock fanfic #daredevil fanfiction #daredevil fanfic #myo4murdock

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unnerving-presence · 1 year

Note

I'd love to hear more riding wesker hcs!!

actually i’m gonna turn this into a whole ass request because i got too much to say 😭😭

not proofread so if shit look weird that’s why ☹️

NSFW Below!

☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎

Wesker loves admiring you while you ride him. He can’t get over how absolutely stunning you look. I’d imagine he has some sort of pent up arousal he didn’t know he had so when he watches you slowly take each and every inch of his cock inside of you he almost goes FERAL.

Praise praise praise! Wesker loves telling you how good of a job you’re doing, how good you’re making him feel, or how perfect you look while you ride him. Albert notices so many little things he loves about you. He can’t go a moment without praising you, so expect to hear a lot of it.

His praise isn’t just limited to words either. He loves having his hands on any and every part of your body. There is no point in time he won’t be touching some part of you. He especially loves just holding your waist, rubbing your skin with his thumb or slowly running his hands up and down your body while he watches you.

He loves all the sounds you make. Even if you don’t make many loud noises like moaning he still loves hearing your little pants and small gasps and learns exactly what makes you feel good just so he can hear those small noises. Anything that tells him that you’re enjoying yourself is something he enjoys. If you’re someone who makes lots of noise? He’ll make sure you’re practically screaming when he’s done with you. Your moans are like music to his ears.

Wesker himself also makes quite a bit of noise. If you want to ride him slowly, you’ll hear small, quiet moans as he tilts his head back, taking in the pleasure. If you want him to take the lead and assist you? You’ll hear a few grunts and growls as he lifts you up and drops you back down onto his cock. You want to make him see stars and ride him like a bull in a rodeo? There will be no end to his constant groaning and moaning. However you wish to take him, he’ll be making noise no matter what.

His cock will bulge through your stomach. Wesker has to physically stop himself from pounding you into the ground each and every time he sees it. It’s such a genuinely beautiful thing to him and he loves pressing his hand to your stomach so he can feel it. He often brings your own hand to your stomach as well so you can feel it with him.

Albert will not judge you if you can’t ride him for long! He sees how it can be exhausting and he will always be there to hold your hips and help you move when you’re too tired to. He also doesn’t mind simply thrusting up into you either. Either way, you both will be satisfied by the end.

His stamina knows no bounds. If you want to keep going but you physically cannot move your lower half? It’s okay, he’ll just hold you close while he fucks up into you. You have lots of stamina too and you can keep up with him? Even better. Wesker respects you and what you want and is not against going for however long you want.

#albert wesker x reader #albert wesker

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cirilla-fiona-riannon · 9 months

Text

Give Me Everything You Have

Translations may not always capture the exact nuances or tone of the original text. Please support Cybird by buying their stories. Expect grammatical errors.

Emma: “...........”

(Why...?)

Emma: “...........”

(Why aren’t you saying anything!?)

Emma silently waited for my birthday to come.

Silvio: “What happened to you earlier?”

Emma: “What are you talking about?”

Silvio: “You have this intense gaze like you’re about to pounce on me.”

Emma: “Don’t worry about it.”

Silvio: “Don’t be ridiculous.”

(Damn it, just say it already.)

(You want to celebrate my birthday, don’t you?)

For the past few days, she’d been restless and unable to calm down.

It was evident that she was secretly preparing something for my birthday.

(Just tell me you want my time, and I’ll give it to you.)

Silvio: “By the way, it’s not good for you to stay up so late. It’ll affect your health.”

I thought if I urged her to go to sleep, she would tell me she wanted to celebrate my birthday.

Emma: “I’m an adult. I’ll be fine.”

But she wouldn’t back down.

Silvio: “That’s not an excuse. Should I put you to bed like an adult, then?”

Emma: “No, thank you!”

While we were having such an exchange, the bell rang to tell us that it was midnight.

(Damn it, time's up.)

(Well, whatever. I'll make you regret not asking me directly.)

(You probably have no idea what my birthday is like.)

As expected, the moment midnight arrived, there was a knock on the door.

(These people never get tired of doing this year after year.)

Emma was about to say something but gave up, and I opened the door.

What I saw was a long line of people.

Emma peeked out from behind me and glanced down the hallway, utterly speechless.

Emma: "This is…"

Silvio: "It's always like this on my birthday."

Silvio: "Everyone tries to get my attention, resulting in fierce competition."

(This is such a hassle.)

Birthdays were nothing more than diplomacy and negotiations. Honestly, I wasn't excited about it.

(If only you had asked, I would've brushed all of this aside.)

(There are hardly any people here genuinely celebrating my birthday.)

Naturally, it wasn't always like this.

As the first prince, I have had glamorous birthday parties since I was a child, but their purpose was not for celebration; it was solely to maintain my mother's image.

That damn old man would only attend at first and then leave immediately, making it a laughably insincere birthday.

The number of attendees was small, and everyone celebrated out of obligation rather than genuine joy.

That changed when I gained money.

As my assets increased, more and more people came forward, expressing their desire to celebrate my birthday.

And that was how it evolved to the point where there would be long lines as midnight struck.

But those people, after saying “Happy birthday,” immediately shift the conversation to official duties and business matters.

Even though the number increased, in the end, it was still the same back then.

(But you’re different, Emma.)

(Hurry up and celebrate me.)

Even the next morning, the celebrations continued without interruption. After finishing breakfast and heading out into the city, the situation worsened.

(It’s even worse than last year. Probably because it’s been decided I’ll be the next king.)

There might be some among them genuinely celebrating, but I couldn’t help but be skeptical.

As I walked, trying to navigate the crowd, I suddenly felt someone firmly grabbing my arm.

It was Emma, desperately clinging to me, determined not to let go.

(Why are you so adorable like that?)

(Or not.)

Silvio: “You...!”

Emma: “If I don’t do this, we’ll get separated!”

Silvio: “Don’t do such things in public.”

Emma: “I was just holding onto your arm!”

Silvio: “That’s exactly the problem. “

Silvio: “Even though so many people are watching today, you’re too cute that I can’t keep a straight face.”

Emma: “I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you!”

Silvio: “Ah, is that so? Then I won’t say it again!”

(Damn it. There’s no way I can spend the day as usual.)

(If you’re that desperately clinging to me like this, I’ll give you another chance.)

Using the knights to shake off the people, we managed to enter an alleyway.

Finally, we had a moment alone together.

Silvio: “Those guys should tone it down a bit.”

(How I behave depends on how this girl will act...)

(What's with this sad face?)

Contrary to my expectations, her face was filled with signs of worry.

(Where did that spirited attitude from midnight go?)

Her determination to celebrate seemed to have long disappeared. Instead of displaying virtues like modesty or consideration, she appeared to be consumed by negative emotions, despite her audacious nature.

Emma: “Prince Silvio...”

(I’m pissed. Damn it.)

(Why do you look so resigned?)

I grabbed her chin in frustration and kissed her.

Emma: “What are you...”

Silvio: “You just made a face like you’ve had enough.”

Emma: “Huh?”

Her eyes widened.

Silvio: “You should come at me more seriously.”

Emma: “What do you mean...?”

Silvio: “*sigh* You wanted to greet me, right?”

(How could I not notice this, you idiot?)

Silvio: “Then don’t give up until you give me everything you got.”

(No need to be modest.)

(So reconsider.)

I messed up her hair and turned my back.

I returned to my official duties, suppressing the urge to take her away immediately.

Nokto: "Hmm, you seem a bit grumpy this year."

Silvio: "You can tell?"

A party was being held in the dance hall as my birthday reached its final stages.

Since entry was only allowed with an invitation, familiar faces, including that fox-faced Rhodolite, were here.

Nokto: “Do you want me to guess?”

Silvio: “No need.”

Nokto: “If you want to be with Emma, you should just say it honestly.”

Silvio: “Shut up.”

(He’s sharp in these situations, and I don’t like it.)

Nokto: “But if you continue like this, your birthday will be over.”

He looked over at Emma, who had a thoughtful expression on her face.

Silvio: “It’d be more worth it if she willingly asked me herself.”

Nokto: “Why?”

Silvio: “Why do I have to explain it to you?”

(Purely because it makes me feel good.)

(And it’ll show that she really wants to celebrate with me.)

Although I didn’t put it into words, Nokto seemed to have sensed something and shrugged his shoulders in exasperation before leaving.

Immediately after this, an incident occurred.

Silvio: “What are you thinking, you idiot!?”

As soon as I returned to the room with Emma in my arms, those words slipped out uncontrollably.

Emma: "I told you it was a gift!"

Emma: "God, you're so shy!"

Silvio: "Who are you saying that to, you damn woman?"

(I was waiting for you to ask me to give you my time, but you chose that method.)

(And even did it boldly in front of so many people.)

(That...)

Just remembering that embarrassing incident made me blush and feel overwhelmed.

(No, I can forgive "that", but not after what happened after that.)

Emma: "If I did that in public, I knew you would react this way."

Silvio: "You...!"

Emma: "Are you mad at me?"

Silvio: "Of course not. I'm just..."

(Aren't you aware?)

I gently placed Emma down in front of the mirror.

Even though she was confidently and cheekily saying those things, she seemed to have finally noticed that her face was completely flushed.

Silvio: "Don't make that kind of face in public. It's making me want to pounce on you."

(This face is something only I should see.)

Emma: "I-I'm sorry."

Silvio: ".........."

Emma: "........"

We gaze at each other through the mirror.

(Basically, you're late.)

(If you're going to take me out like that, you should have done it in the morning.)

As the silence dragged on, her expression became increasingly uneasy.

Despite her usual cheeky demeanor, she couldn't fully maintain an arrogant attitude, which caused me to burst out laughing.

Silvio: "Alright, alright, I give up. Sorry for teasing you."

Silvio: "From now on, I'll give you all my attention."

Emma: "Really? But you still have guests."

Silvio: "You're more important than any guest."

Silvio: "Besides, I'm sure everyone took the hint."

Emma: "Prince Silvio, aren't you tired?"

Silvio: "I'm not tired, so bring me the cake already."

Emma: "Why would there be a cake?"

Silvio: "There's no way you wouldn't get me one for my birthday."

(To be honest, I've never eaten a birthday cake before.)

While there was usually food at my birthday parties, a cake has never been brought out.

Just like in Rhodolite, there was a tradition here in Benitoite to celebrate with a cake, but the fact that no one really celebrates it wholeheartedly became evident in situations like this.

(Though that fucking dog has one every year.)

Silvio: "I'm hungry, so hurry up and feed me."

Emma: "Is that the reason you didn't eat much?"

Silvio: "It'd bother me if I couldn't eat your food."

(You don't need to pay attention to that little detail.)

Feeling somewhat uncomfortable, I sat down on the sofa and leaned back.

Surprisingly, Emma's cheeky smile shone brilliantly.

Emma: "I suppose I have no choice. Today, I'll spoon-feed you."

Silvio: "*sigh* Is that all? It's not enough, you know?"

Emma: "What? Do you want me to feed you mouth-to-mouth?"

Silvio: "Why did you think of something like that? Well, maybe it's not a bad idea."

Emma: "It's a bad idea!"

Silvio: "Don't you dare challenge the birthday boy."

(I'm beyond help since everything you say and do looks cute.)

Despite being exasperated, I gestured for her to come closer.

Without hesitation, she approached me, and I grabbed her hand and pulled her into an embrace.

Silvio: "I told you earlier to give me everything you got."

Emma: “Ah...”

(I've been feeling impatient today, so a cake and a present won't be enough to satisfy me.)

Silvio: “Just so you know, I won’t let you sleep until you’ve completely celebrated with me.”

I teasingly stroked her back, and she responded with a nod.

Emma: “All right. As you wish.”

(No take-backs.)

(I ain't holding back, so prepare yourself.)

Afterward, I got excited over my first-ever birthday cake and the handmade embroidered amulet bag she had given as a gift.

I thoroughly enjoyed my birthday, which was usually nothing but a hassle.

As for the extent of that enjoyment一

Emma: “I can’t believe it.”

Silvio: “Ha?”

Emma: “Isn’t it already morning?”

Silvio: “Yeah.”

She hadn't moved an inch since earlier.

It was probably because of the fatigue and the slick wetness between her legs that was preventing her body from moving.

(I didn't plan on holding her until morning.)

Contrary to my thoughts, I reached out from behind and touched her legs.

Even though I devoured her so much last night, the insides of my chest were still screaming that it wasn't enough.

Emma: "Your birthday is over."

Silvio: "It's not over until I say it's over."

(It's not really like me not to want my birthday to end.)

Just when I thought she might be surprised, I heard her soft laughter.

(I feel like she can see through everything.)

As if to express my discomfort, I buried my face in her neck, and her sweet voice further stirred me up.

Silvio: "I tasted a lot of you last night, but you're still so sweet."

Emma: "Prince Silvio..."

It looked like she was reaching her limit as she showed signs of wanting to escape.

I put my hand on her head and blocked her movement, not intending to let her run away.

Silvio: "I won't stop."

Silvio: "This gift belongs to me, and I won't let you take it away. If you understand, get ready to be loved."

Emma: "I don't want to."

Silvio: "Ha?"

Emma: "Because it's your birthday."

Silvio: "So what?"

Emma: "In other words..."

Emma: "It's you who should be loved."

(………)

Emma turned around and surprised me by kissing my lips.

She was usually shy and only gave peck-like kisses, but today, perhaps due to her lack of shame, she actively intertwined her tongue with mine.

Silvio: "You've become quite the erotic kisser, huh?"

Emma: "Whose fault do you think that is?"

(Is it because of me?)

I found myself laughing again at her blushing expression.

(Receiving birthday wishes from someone feels so good. I never knew it could make me this happy.)

(I wish this feeling could last forever. I’m already looking forward to next year.)

I’d realized for the first time how different it feels to be celebrated out of obligation compared to being genuinely celebrated from the heart.

No gift could match the emotions she had given me.

Emma: “I might just kidnap you next year.”

Silvio: “*sigh* I’ll make a special exception and allow it.”

Emma: “Don’t regret those words later, okay?”

(There's no way I'm going to do that.)

(Even if I receive anything else in the future, there's no treasure greater than you.)

Part 1 ╎ Part 2 ╎ His POV

#ikemen prince #ikepri jp #ikepri #ikepri silvio #silvio ricci #ikepri translations

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mypimpademia · 10 months

Text

— sssssoooo anxiousssss

Bakugo x black!reader

TW: Swearing, slightly suggestive

Note: this was originally supposed to have 2 other characters… but bakugos got way too long😭 might make another version with them anyways tho. Enjoyyy🫶🏾

— BAKUGO.

⇶ Katsuki doesn’t consider himself as someone who becomes nervous easily

⇶ Aside from his constant angry outbursts and screaming, he’s pretty well put together

⇶ That’s essentially the case for everyone and everything outside of you

⇶ When he first met you, everything about you made him uncharacteristically nervous

⇶ He couldn’t keep eye contact, couldn’t speak to you, couldn’t handle the way you smiled at him, etc.

⇶ Eventually, he overcame nearly all of the anxiety you made him feel, especially when you started dating

⇶ But one thing that he will never get over, is any form of physical contact with you

⇶ It’s not that it necessarily makes him nervous, but any sort of physicality with you does things to him that he can’t explain

⇶ He’s already got a soft spot for you, everyone knows that

⇶ From the way he nearly melts when you flash a smile at him and say his name, to the way he’ll be yelling at someone one second and calling you his angel the next

⇶ But your touch genuinely makes him weak

⇶ Physical touch is his predominant love language as is, but you take it to new heights

⇶ Can never just have one kiss from you, he needs more than that

⇶ A simple kiss on the cheek makes him lose his mind, he can’t help but ask for a real kiss

⇶ And another after that, and after that, and that one too… until he’s full on making out with you

⇶ Unless you’re around family, time and place simply doesn’t exist to him

⇶ Katsuki will smother you in affection no matter how many people you’re around, and doesn’t care if anyone thinks it’s a gross amount of pda

⇶ Katsuki absolutely craves you, and wouldn’t last a day without being able to feel you in some way

⇶ On rougher days, or when he’s just not feeling good, all he wants is to be a tangled mess of limbs with you in somewhere warm and comfy

⇶ And Katsuki is by no means a begger, but if it comes down to it, he will beg for you to just kiss him, even once

“Baby, you’ve been working on that stupid fucking essay since I got home, take a break. Come ‘n’ lie down with me,” Katsuki groaned, lightly tugging your arm in a childlike manner.

Katsuki’s been complaining about wanting you to lay down with him for the past 2 hours, and says he can’t go relax without you. He’s doing everything in his power to try and get your attention off your school work and on him.

Kissing you, feeling up your sides and legs, running his fingers through your braids, and more that you couldn’t be bothered to remember at the moment. You brushed him off every time, with a simple ‘not now’ or ‘just wait’. He’d be lying if he said his feelings weren’t at least a little hurt.

“Katsu, this is my final for this class, and it’s due tomorrow afternoon and I’m just starting. I can’t just take a “break” with you just because you’re bein’ all whiny,” You told him, a tinge of irritation slipping through your words as you tried to stay calm with him.

You knew that even if he did make it seem like it was about him, it was in your best interest as well. He hates to see you overwork yourself, and as tempting as cuddling up with your boyfriend to recharge sounded, you couldn’t afford that right now.

“I don’t understand why you can’t just lay down without me,” You said for what felt like the millionth time, making Katsuki kiss his teeth in response.

“First of all, I am not bein’ whiny,” He argued. “Second, you need a break anyways, so I don’t understand why you can’t lay down with me.”

You side eyed him, and he stared right back. You rolled your eyes at him, turning your attention back to your essay.

Katsuki let out a long, dramatic, groan as he buried his face into your neck, blond locks tickling your jaw and cheek. Then suddenly, he had an idea.

“Look, you only have like three pages left of your essay,” He started. “If you come lay down with me, I’ll finish ‘em for you.”

His proposal was convincing, and did pique your interest enough for you to stop typing.

“… Really?” You asked him, making him pull his face out of your neck.

“Mmhm,” He answered, a smug grin forming on his face.

He knows he won.

You kissed your teeth as you glanced at your essay document.

“Fine.”

Katsuki just has to get what he wants.

⇶ He simply won’t take no for an answer when it comes to getting affection from you

⇶ And if he tells you it’s just a real quick kiss, or you’ll only cuddle for a few minutes, don’t believe him

⇶ He’s got an addiction for you and once he starts, he won’t stop

⇶ But he’s such a sweet talker, you fall for it everytime

⇶ Not that you’re complaining… you’d be a complete liar if you said you didn’t love it just as much as he does

⇶ And he handles you so well, you never even know why you were opposing him to begin with

⇶ Calls you pretty, gorgeous, “a fuckin’ angel”, whispers sweet nothings in your ear, runs his hand through whatever protective style you have, or just gets his fingers tangled up in your curls

⇶ Kisses you breathless, and when you pull away for air he just moves to kiss around your face, then moves down to your neck and chest, feeling your skin grow warm

⇶ Katsuki is rough by nature, and that translates into his kisses in the best way possible

⇶ Presses his lips to your skin in a slightly harsh way, and truthfully, he’s just as out of breath as you are, turning pink and panting everytime he pulls back, then going back to leaving open mouth kisses, making your brown skin glimmer as he leaves behind a light film of saliva

⇶ It’s sort of gross to really think about, but it feels so good in the moment that you don’t even care

⇶ Please return the favor, he’ll absolutely melt in your hands

⇶ Don’t worry about getting lip gloss marks on him either, he wears them proudly

⇶ If you straddle his lap to kiss him and put your hands on his shoulders, you’ll be able to feel him shaking

⇶ Plant kisses all over his face while you compliment him, he’ll be so nervous that he won’t even be able to look at you

⇶ Katsuki just loves you so much, he doesn’t know what to do when you’re all over him like this

⇶ And if he does manage to look at you, you’ll feel like he’s staring into your soul, and he’ll take in all your features before telling you he loves you

⇶ It’s too much, but he can’t get enough of you

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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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pochipop · 11 months

Text

＃GENSHIN IMPACT !! ♡ — ON THE DARK SIDE OF THE MOON (CHILDE X READER).

#. synopsis! — childe knows he doesn't deserve this, but he just can't let you go .

#. characters! — childe .

#. warnings! — angst .

#. word count! — 1k .

#. alt accounts! — @ddollipop (nsfw) @yyolkchi (reblog/spam) .

#. others! — navigation & masterlist .

#. a/n! — this is my "from the vault" era. most of the things i'll be posting for a while will probably have been started anywhere from a few months to over a year ago. i have a huge google doc just stocked with fics that i started and never finished, so i'm trying to wrap some of them up neatly enough to post them and at least let them see the light of day lol.

It’s always lonely at the top.

On nights like this, Childe realizes that now more than ever. Snezhnaya is his home, —but in a more abstract sense of the term. He knows the snow-covered lands and the bitter chill of frost like the backs of his scarred hands, and yet this nation feels less like the soft place he can fall upon each time he returns from somewhere else. It’s the center of his youth, the place that fills most of his heart, but things have certainly changed since he was little more than a young boy who loved making angels in the snow. The world moves faster now; days bleed into weeks in a matter of moments, and there are many times Childe wishes that the weather could freeze time like it does everything else around here.

Still, maybe it’s better that it doesn't. Even if it did somehow, he’s not sure how he’d spend that time anyway. A part of him is all too certain that he’d waste it away, losing sight of his goals within seconds.

He’s always been too driven by madness for his own good.

The viscous truth of it all is that Childe craves acceptance, but doesn’t really like to be loved. Even as you sleep next to him, his arm clutched in your warm, forgiving grip; he doesn’t know how to put such thoughts to the wayside. Selfishly, he wants you. Sometimes, it feels like he needs you. Realistically, though, Childe knows he shouldn’t have you. You’re not much of a fighter, and your only ties to the Fatui are through him, which he holds an insurmountable level of shame and regret for. If not for him, he’s certain your life would be a lot less complicated.

You’ve even said so yourself, albeit only jokingly. Those few little quips hold just enough water for Childe to drown himself in them, though. He wants to push you away as his lungs fill in and oxygen depletes, but you’re so goddamn intoxicating that he can’t bear the thought of parting ways. You snuggle closer to him as if seeking the heat of his body, —as if seeking the protection it offers from any ghoulish figures that could pop up in your otherwise sugar coated dreams.

Childe isn’t sure what he’d do without this, —without the ability to come staggering home to you. Truthfully, you’re more of a home to him now than Snezhnaya has ever been. He yearns for nights like this more than you’ll ever know, more than he’ll ever be able to articulate properly, because Celestia knows he’s never been very good with words.

Not when they’re genuine, anyway.

He can put on a show just fine, put that charismatic mask on and make strangers fall to their knees at his feet. But once they get a glimpse of the monster inside that lusts for violence and bloodshed on every battlefield, they run for the hills. And Childe isn't naive enough to wonder why. He knows, probably better than anyone else ever will, that he is hard to love, and even more difficult to be loved by.

When everything is going steady, he likes to send some ripples through the water just because he can. He pushes buttons he knows he should leave alone, —maybe because he can’t help himself, or maybe because deep down, he wants to push you away. You can’t just up and decide that you want to see him rot his way back into the earth beneath his feet if he flips all the right switches and makes it happen at will. There’s no disappointment to be had there if he’s the one who incites it; like flicking a match and watching your house go up in flames.

If he does it to himself, there’s no reason to be sad about it.

Self-sabotage has always been kind of his thing. Still, here you are with your soft tufts of breath fanning against him, trusting him not to let himself snap to the point of no return and burn everything down around you both (figuratively and literally.) And for the life of him, —Childe doesn’t get it. He really doesn’t. You’ve always wanted a simpler life, one you know he can’t give you. . . But here you are, and he doesn’t have the heart to push you away like he knows deep down that he should.

If he’s being honest with himself, and this is one of the rare times that he is, he knows he should be building his walls high enough to force you out if that’s what it takes. Everytime you lay with him like this, he knows he’s stealing that tranquil life you’ve always wanted away from you, and it eats him up inside. He’s not what’s best for anybody, nonetheless for you.

He knows, he knows, he knows. . . He really should just—

“Hey,” you say softly, and his resolve crumbles away like the walls he tries to build between himself and you. “Can’t sleep?”

Childe looks over at you and pauses for a few moments, admiring the way you love him, even when he doesn’t deserve it. Then he thinks to himself that he’s never truly deserved it, and the cycle begins again. He hums in acknowledgement, and you hold him closer, like you’re trying to mend all his broken pieces back together (even if you don’t know it.) It won’t help him sleep, but it feels nice to be cared for like this. To be loved, to be seen. . . To be stripped bare in the moonlight that spills in from your window is a blessing sent straight from Celestia, and it makes him wonder just what he’s ever done well enough to have ended up here in his lifetime.

“You’re thinking too much,” you say.

He almost laughs, pressing a gentle kiss to the crown of your head.

“Yeah,” he agrees, “I know.”

#childe #childe angst #childe genshin #genshin impact #childe x reader angst #childe x reader #childe x you #tartaglia x reader #tartaglia x reader angst #genshin impact x reader angst #genshin x reader angst #genshin x reader #childe tartaglia x reader #genshin childe #childe tartaglia #childe x y/n #tartaglia x you #tartaglia x y/n

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novellafaire · 1 year

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TWST BOYS AS YOUR BOYFRIEND

Just some headcanons on what I think they would be like as boyfriends ♡

Heartslabyul - Savanaclaw - Octavinelle - Scarabia (here!) - Pomefiore - Ignihyde - Diasomnia

• golden retriever boyfriend

• is so energetic and happy, even more so when you’re around

• he will do anything in his power to make you smile

• if you’re sad, then he’s sad

• And Jamil then has to take care of you both—

• he. spoils. you. so. much

• and he doesn’t even realize what he’s doing

• you mention something you like?? he’s buying 12 different versions of it for you

• will buy literally anything that reminds him of you; no matter how ridiculous it seems

• magic carpet rides!!

• your dates can consist of anything or everything

•he’s down to do whatever

• he’s affectionate to most people anyways, so PDA is pretty common, but unintentional

• he just loves you so much he can’t help but showcase it no matter where you are

• he loves hugging you and holding your hand

• also loves cuddling you

• will do anything you ask of him without any hesitation

• boy is literally a ball of sunshine that’s almost always smiling, so if you’re upset he’ll do anything in his power to make you smile

• he might panic and ask Jamil for help tho—

• but if you’re crying he’ll hold you in his arms and reassure you

• it’s basically impossible for him to get jealous cause he’s so friendly and happy-go-lucky and dense

• if someone is flirting with you by complimenting you, he’s right there with them in agreement; singing your praises

• which is honestly enough to throw off most advances

• Kalim will throw a party for you literally whenever he feels like it

• he just wants you to know he appreciates you!!

• there are almost never any arguments between you two

• if someone is bothering you or talking bad about you though, those are some of the few times where he’s unhappy

• Jamil would usually be sent to take care of the person while Kalim stays with you to make sure you’re okay

• on that note, Jamil is okay with you

• you keep Kalim’s attention off him, but your presence causes Kalim to be even more energetic, which usually means more work for Jamil

• Kalim would LOVE for you to meet his family!!

• just beware of how many siblings he has—

• his family would immediately welcome you in (after ofc confirming you weren’t a danger)

• they would gift you so many things as well to make you feel like you’re a part of the family

• and now you understand where Kalim gets it from

• all in all, Kalim would be a golden retriever boyfriend who thrives on making sure you’re happy ♡

• he constantly makes sure you’re taking care of yourself

• asks if you’ve eaten — and if you haven’t, he’ll personally make food for you

• cooking dates!!

• even if you can’t cook, he can either teach you how to or you can simply just provide him with your presence

• he’s happy either way

• other dates are usually pretty chill where you guys simply hang out and chat

• maybe go to festivals in the Scalding Sands together, if he can afford the time

• he’ll also be happy to help you with chores, errands, studying, etc

• he is so used to caring for people that it’s practically second nature to him

• but with you it’s different because he actually enjoys taking care of you and it doesn’t feel like a hassle

• the only thing he won’t do for you is save you from any bugs

• he’ll be cowering right there with you

• but if you do the same and care for him instead?

• he’ll literally melt

• well first he’ll insist that he doesn’t need help, but he genuinely appreciates the thought so much you don’t even know

• he is so happy to be with you because he can actually be himself and not have to downplay any of his talents

• that said, he’ll get flustered when you compliment him and will pull his hood to cover his blushing face

• if you ask him to show you his dancing, he’ll be even more flustered, but after some convincing he’ll comply — and maybe even teach you how to dance as well if you don’t know how to (if you do know how to dance, then you guys can dance together)

• lowkey likes it when you come to his basketball games because he enjoys feeling appreciated, especially for his talents

• but he’ll never admit that

• he also will occasionally tease you, but it’s not constant

• not super jealous of a person, but sometimes he does get worried that you’ll choose someone else over him

• especially because he’s a servant/attendant and he’s worried he wouldn’t be able to provide you with the life he thinks you deserve ):

• pls reassure him

• very limited PDA, mainly because he’s constantly busy taking care of Kalim

• and because he’s easily flustered

• Kalim adores you btw

• he’s so happy Jamil has found someone he loves, so he’ll sometimes even order Jamil to go spend time with you instead of doing chores/errands

• if someone is bothering you or talking bad about you and Jamil finds out? He’s going to work in the shadows to get back at them

• may even use his unique magic to get them to embarrass themselves

• he’s also stellar at comforting you when you’re upset; letting you into his arms and listening to what you have to say

• he will do anything in his power to help you

• he’s also extremely attentive to your emotions

• so arguments are uncommon between you two, and they usually only happen when either of you are stressed

• but once the stress is gone, apologies are made and you discuss what was bothering you

• Jamil is a bit worried about you meeting his family, only because they work under the Asim family and aren’t vastly wealthy like they are

• but when you do meet them, you and his sister Najma hit it off quickly

• she loves teasing her brother, but she’s also super happy for him

• Jamil is also happy you and Najma get along, because despite their sibling quarrels, they do love each other a lot

• over all, Jamil is a very caring boyfriend who is always there for you ♡

#twisted wonderland #twst #twst x reader #twst scarabia #twst kalim #twst jamil #kalim al asim x reader #jamil viper x reader #fanfic

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pandamaster203 · 11 months

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I don't have many ideas but could I please ask for a yandere angel or Alastor with a darling that wears Jirai Kai fashion because it's kind of like a coping mechanism for their mental health issues / abandonment issues

And the darling gives him a gift as a way of saying thank you

I'm sorry you're probably sick of me sending in a request

But thank you very much for taking my requests

Not at all, and I really like getting requests! I love writing any chance I get, so it’s ok! I couldn’t decide to go platonic or romantic so I wrote neutral, you can decide which you want.

Yandere Alastor

- This guy knows how to manipulate people for his benefit, so if wants you then he’a gonna pull a lot for you.

- Your mental health issues and abandonment issues help him greatly with getting closer

- He’s not a big fan of touch unless your really close, so until then a simple arm around the shoulder and a nice head pat will do just fine for him.

- He doesn’t understand your fashion but he tries to, if he notices something similar to whatever you wear he’ll get it for you no matter who’s life he has to take.

- So when you give him your gift to say thank you, his smile turns to a genuine one. He will wear it in place of his normal tie when out and with you. NO ONE is allowed to touch it!!!!!

Yandere Angel

- He’s a lot different then Alastor, he’s not serious about a lot of things but he is when it comes to you.

- He see’s himself in you half the time and wants to be there for you 24/7. If he can’t be there, he’s leaving you with Fat Nuggets!

- Now he is a clingy dude, pretty much a cuddle pro. He likes doing stuff with you either going out and doing something or just sitting around to talk. He loves being around you.

- He loves your fashion. He will buy or steal anything you want, or even get some himself to match you. Whatever makes you feel comfortable. Maybe even gets Fat Nuggets some so you all can match!!!

- When you give him your present to say thank you, he is not afraid to admit he started crying. Full crying and hugging you, thanking you for it over and over. He will never go a day without your present, wears it in his hair or around his waist so he can feel it.

I hope you enjoy these. I went with both so I hope it’s alright.

#x reader #platonic yandere #request #romantic yandere #yandere requests #hazbin hotel x reader #yandere alastor x reader #yandere hazbin hotel #angel dust x reader #yandere angel dust

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little-emerald-snake · 6 months

Text

Kinktober Day 30

Degradation - Garreth Weasley X F!MC

🔥NSFW 🔞 MDNI

1.1k words

Garreth was growing frustrated with his potions partner. They’d been at it for hours trying to brew a perfect Veritaserum for professor Sharps class. But one way or another his partner would find a way to mess it up.

First she’d stirred the wrong direction. Then the next brew she’d added one too many Jobberknoll feathers. In their third try now she’d added an ingredient that didn’t even belong in the potion.

He was gritting his teeth with anger, trying not to lash out but understanding he needed to be patient with her so they'd get a good grade. “What in Merlin’s name is going on with you? You’re usually fine at potion making. Now you can’t seem to get your steps right no matter what you’re doing?”

She swallowed hard. She was honestly tired from staying up so late to brew on top of being stressed out with other final exams and other such things she couldn’t seem to keep herself straight. “I apologize Garreth. I’m just tired and a bit distracted with all that’s on my mind.”

Garreth sighed loudly, pinching the bridge of his nose and letting his frustrations get the better of him. “Look, I understand you have stuff going on. You always have something going on. Always helping someone or running off to Merlin knows where. But I need you to keep your head in the game. How can I make you focus? Do you need a focus potion or something?”

She shook her head and closed her eyes, taking a deep breath as Garreth’s demanding / insulting voice caused excitement to course through her veins. An entirely new distraction was added to her plate. “No. I’m sorry. I promise I won’t mess up this time. Let’s just finish this.”

Garreth didn’t seem convinced but nodded. Setting a clean cauldron on the station and getting the recipe started.

Everything had gone off without a hitch. It was slow but she made sure every single step was correct, double and triple checking each time before doing the next part of the potion.

Once the brew was finished, Garreth checked to make sure it was perfect. After evaluating it was in fact correct, he smiled, bottling it up to turn it in tomorrow. “There, I genuinely never thought I’d get this potion done with how it’s been going.”

She was blushing bright red. Both irritated and excited that his underhanded degrading comments excited her. She usually liked the dominating portion but when even bouts of name calling and insults excited her she knew she needed to find some ‘stress relief’ soon.

Garreth safely packed away the vials and turned to her as she cleaned up. Her face was still red and it caught his attention. “Look, I’m sorry if I embarrassed you. I didn’t mean to be such a dick but I-“

She shook her head, interrupting him. “N-no it’s fine. I didn’t mind it actually. Just don’t worry about it.”

Garreth blinked a few times, trying to make sure she’d heard him correctly. “You don’t mind it? What do you mean? Like you don’t mind being made fun of?”

She shrugged, giving him a half nod. “Yea. Not particularly. I guess only if you’re doing it in a not super mean way, you know?”

Garreth was confused but slowly coming to understand it. “Are you one of those girls who likes to be called a slut and whatnot?”

She nearly choked on air, her eyes finding his in seconds as her breathing sped up. “I-I mean…maybe a bit. You say it as if it’s a bad thing?”

Garreth chuckled and moved closer to her, pinning her against part of the potion station. “Not a bad thing at all darling. Maybe as a treat for finally getting this potion made you’d like me to tease you a bit and degrade you?”

She sat there opening and closing her mouth as if she wanted to say something. Garreth only smirked and reached up to hold her chin between his fingers. “The glorious 5th year. Good at everything but can’t focus on a potion because she’s so distracted by her partner calling her names.”

She shivered in his touch and he smiled. “Is that what you want, love? To be called a slut while I tell you how bad at potions you are and how much it pisses me off you’ve gone and wasted my precious ingredients?”

She finally closed her mouth and swallowed, nodding her head as Garreth’s teasing. He smiled, taking her arm and helping her off the stool and to her knees in front of him. “Naughty little things like you sit on the floor. Since you're gonna make a wet little mess on the potions stool otherwise won’t you?”

She softly groaned and hummed in agreement. He smiled. “Yea? Getting wet already from me talking down to you like this? I bet you’d let me feel if I put you on your knees and lifted your skirt wouldn’t you?”

She hung her head and nodded again, heat creeping into her cheeks. He grinned widely, standing and helping her up and bending her over the stool in front of him. “Come on. Lift that skirt and show me that wet cunt.”

She was bright red now but so turned on. She reached behind her and pulled her skirt up around her waist. She could hear his groan as she exposed the wet center of her panties to him.

He sat back on the other stool and admired the view, palming himself in his trousers. “That’s so fucking hot, seeing that dark little wet spot all because your like being talked down to. Gonna show me your little pussy now?”

She let out a shaky breath and slid her panties down her legs, allowing him to see her slick center. “Merlin, you look so fucking hot like this. Bent over showing me your needy little fuck hole. M’not even your proper boyfriend. Just your classmate and your so willing to be a pretty slut.”

She looked back and saw his eyes glued to her, his hand gently palming his obvious erection as he watched. “Fuck, next time we make a brew together I’m gonna have to reward you like this again when you brew it correctly. Maybe you won’t mess it up so many times, hm?”

She swallowed hard and nodded. “N-next time?”

He chuckled and came forward, pulling her underwear up and righting her skirt. “Oh yes. I plan to see that gorgeous little pussy all wet for me again and use it properly. But not tonight. That's not a sight any sane man can deny seeing again, love.”

Kinktober Prompt List

#hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy smut #hogwarts legacy fanfiction #writing challenge #kinktober #kinktober 2023 #garreth weasley fanfiction #garreth weasley smut #garreth weasley

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spopsalt · 23 days

Note

Holy shit! I JUST realized something about Spop and Kyle! Idk HOW I missed it before. But I only just realized it, and now I’m gonna make it everyone else’s problem.

So we all know Kyle is the designated butt-monkey of the show. He’s a relatively good guy despite being with the Horde. And he’s mistreated and abused by characters in the Horde. The characters who mistreated him aren’t characters like Shadow Weaver or Hordak, who have SIGNIFICANT power over him. No, it’s his peers. And Scorpia (acts more like a peer despite having a higher rank) and Catra (always mistreated him, no matter if she’s a higher rank or equal). Despite being told they’re good people deep down or later in the series, Lonnie, Rogelio, Scorpia, Catra, and Adora all do this. Even the NICE characters do this, like Scorpia and Adora. And his BOYFRIEND never stands up for him. It’s appalling. Seeing a GOOD person get mistreated by SUPPOSEDLY OTHER GOOD people isn’t funny.

But here’s what IS funny. In a cosmic sort of way…

This is Mantenna

He was the original butt monkey if She-Ra. And by that, I mean he gets shit on. A lot. By Hordak. And it’s actually funny.

You see, nothing brings OG Hordak joy like trapdoors and using them on Mantenna. The way it works is that whenever Hordak is pissed or unamused (he once made Mantenna try to make him laugh for example), he presses a button of his throne and Mantenna drops through the floor. And occasionally there are twists added to keep things fresh.

Spring trap door

Backup trap door

Multi trap door

You get the idea. It was mostly for slapstick. It was never meant to be taken seriously. Unlike with Kyle.

For me, the major things that set Mantenna apart from Kyle are these.

1. Mantenna is evil. He’s a pipsqueak and dogged on. But he’s still evil. Kyle is a nice and kind person and by all means shouldn’t be with the Horde.

2. Mantenna is tormented and talked down to by Hordak and Catra, his superiors. Kyle is torments by superiors AND peers

3. Kyle is mistreated by ‘good’ people. Lonnie and Catra are two of the worst offenders, but they’re good people, I swear, they’re just in a bad situation. 😒 Seriously. Those two are painted as good people deep down and still hurt Kyle. Scorpia and Adora did it too, despite being nice and good as visibly as possible, even in the Horde. And again, Rogelio is supposedly Kyle’s boyfriend, and never helps.

Mantenna on the other hand is mistreated by people like Catra and Hordak, who are unabashedly BAD people. They’re never painted as gods deep down. They do bad things like abuse and berate Mantenna, because they’re bad people. And because most of the people in the Horde ARE BAD AND EVIL(there are some good people that leave, but they pretty much lave the Horde as soon as possible without sticking around, and everyone stuck around in the reboot for no reason), they genuinely do not care.

This guy? Just saw this whole thing play out. He don’t give a shit.

4. It’s slapstick. Slapstick humor isn’t meant to be taken seriously. Mantenna is a bit of an awkward, nervous guy. But he never read as the same level of traumatized as Kyle to me. Maybe I’m misreading it though. But the point is that a trapdoor is a completely different joke than being deprived of rations for a cake that goes to waste.

And 5. Mantenna actually gets wins. I can’t post many pics now. But there have been times where Hordak actually doesn’t get the drop on Mantenna. Once he tries the trap door to find it filled with flowers because of Perfuma. Once Hordak used a trap door on a boat, sinking himself in the process. And once Mantenna turned the tables completely.

Kyle though? He got a sort-of win in one episode? Even then it was only after he almost killed himself moving the tank.

My point here is, rather than have an established character, used for a much funnier and lighthearted gag, with a genuinely fun design, Nate and his crew decided to use Kyle. A regular, not very strong, not very skilled, not very masculine boy. He’s gay. He’s possibly neurodivergent. And he’s got the biggest heart. And Crew-Ra decided because he commuted the ultimate crime of being a cisgender white male, he must suffer constant abuse. If that isn’t proof of what the reboot REALLY is about, I don’t know what is. It’s not about friendship. It’s not about being gay. It’s not about breaking the cycle of abuse. It’s about using this show to send very negative messages to children. To hurt people for no good reason. And with the casual and brazen contempt for the original that Nate and some of Crew-Ra displays, I’m honestly surprised they named him Kyle, and not Lou, or Micheal, or Larry.

Sorry for the long message. I just felt like this was a major discovery on my part.

Exactly! The original did it in a way that's actually funny and doesn't leave you feeling bad. I seriously do not see the humor in seeing a relatively nice guy (despite being in the horde but even then he free Bow that one time) so it's just not funny when you see him getting made fun of for the millionith time. Another series that does butt monkeys well is Ouran High School Host Club, since it's actually funny. Tamaki gets actual development, even the people who make fun of him are shown multiple times to really care, and he actually gets wins

#spop salt #anti spop #spop discourse #spop critical #spop criticism #anti catra #spop crit

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belphiesreverie · 2 years

Note

This my first time requesting so I’m sorry if I do anything wrong. Could I have hcs of a reader who gets embarrassed when they smile but can’t stop smiling cause they’re with their s/o with Childe, Xiao, Kazuha and Albedo(if that’s too many you can take out some) Have a nice day ^u^

Yes ofc, this is such a cute request 😭🙏🏻🙏🏻

Also, happy Albedo day!! 💕💕💕

He doesn’t understand why you get embarrassed when you smile, since smiling is a positive thing and helps make you feel happier overall

He likes when you smile, because it’s an easy way for him to know you’re happy with him and he’s doing things right. He’s not the best with relationships in general, so he has been using how much you smile as a benchmark to understand how to make you happier

Albedo compliments your smile very often and makes an effort to smile more in your presence to make you feel more comfortable with your smile and to help communicate to you that he’s happy as well

He doesn’t want to pry into the reason you get embarrassed about smiling, but he can’t help but be very curios. Not only is it a unique reaction in general, but he just has an affinity for wanting to know every little thing about you

So you’ll have to excuse if the question slips out at some point, it’s coming from a genuine place 💕

He’s going to tease the absolute hell out of you until you stop feeling embarrassed about it

If you turn you head away or cover your mouth whenever you smile, he’s always going to have something to say about it. And if you ask him to stop, he’ll simply tell you to stop hiding your smile

He wants to be able to see that cute smile of yours, so he’s going to get you to stop hiding it in a way he thinks is most effective; teasing you so much you’ll be more embarrassed about that than your actual smile

And if you stop hiding your smile from him, then he’ll stop teasing you about it. You’ll get to see one of those rare, gentle smiles as he admires you being able to smile and be happy in his presence without feeling embarrassed

You two are just two peas in a pod about this whole thing. Half the time spent together is just you both staring off in different directions so the other doesn’t see how big you’re smiling

Of course, Kazuha would absolutely love to be able to see you smile whilst with him, he’d use the most certainly wonderful sight as inspiration for some new poems. But he has to get over his own embarrassment first

And he doesn’t want to tell you not to feel embarrassed about your smile, because it would feel hypocritical of him to say that to you whilst also being the exact same way

So he’s going to do his best to be less embarrassed about his smile to help show you that you don’t have to be embarrassed about yours! No matter how much he wants to hide away any time he catches himself just smiling being with you, he’ll remain strong

Just… try not to compliment his smile too earnestly or it might take him a little while to recover

He probably wouldn’t clock on at first, just thinking you feel awkward or uncomfortable any time you turn your head away from him. He knows he’s not the most approachable or a very good conversation partner

So his initial response is thinking that he should try and become easier to be around. But only for you, since being too approachable would be annoying for him. Although, he’s not even sure where to start and he’s definitely not asking for advice. Which means no actual improvement is made

But it’s when he overhears Verr Goldet make a passing comment about how cute it is when you hide your smile from Xiao that things finally click. But he doesn’t understand that it’s out of embarrassment and not that you just don’t want to let him see your smile, so he feels quite hurt. Though he’d never admit it

And after that point, you may notice Xiao tends to get a bit… sulky? when you turn your face away to smile. So thinking he caught on and is upset about it, you’ll end up making an effort to let your smile show so he’ll feel better. Just don’t let him know you can tell it makes him happy, even if he isn’t smiling back

#genshin #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #albedo x reader #kazuha x reader #kaedehara kazuha x reader #childe x reader #tartaglia x reader #xiao x reader #genshin fluff #fluff headcanons #gn reader #gn s/o

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mari-lair · 10 months

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Idk of u read the new chapter yet BUT these two panels look ODDLY similar...do u think teru and natsuhiko have similar powers or something?

I have a theory that is very out there, but since you asked my opinion...

Not only do I think there is similarity to their powers, I would go as far as to say Natsuhiko is part exorcist.

Exorcist blood has always been special. We see Teru open a gate between boundaries in chapter 70, and Yorimitsu used his blood to make a contract with No.6, so their blood has influence over the supernatural.

Natsuhiko is treated as a normal student, a living being: Everyone in Nene’s class can see him, he is part of class 2-D, and acts as if participating in the school festival is normal, unlike Sakura.

There is also this official art of him with a sword, which so far in the manga only exorcists have 'weapons'.

Natsuhiko does not exorcise supernaturals though, he lives with them, many of his quirks making him seem inhuman. And I personally don't think exorcists are fully human, they must have some supernatural blood in their lineage, some deep connection.

Minamotos are inclined to like supernaturals despite being tasked to eliminate them. Hanako is basically the personification of supernaturals to Kou but the young exorcist overall sees him as a friend, Tiara got attached to a Mokke, and even Yorimitsu, who had heavily implied there is something wrong with his emotional attachment, took a liking to No.6. He stayed with the demon on his death bed.

Humans also don’t have fangs, no matter how dramatic the manga paneling can get, only supernaturals and the Minamotos have fangs.

Exorcists can eat monster's body parts without needing to make a contract, so while they have spiritual energy that is destructive to supernaturals, and resistance to their power, their body doesn't reject supernaturals and their influence.

Exorcists are built to give a lot of damage to supernaturals and protect humans, it is heavily implied their spiritual energy can’t hurt humans, but who can they hurt? Half humans, and themselves.

And Natsuhiko’s blood hurt supernaturals, not humans. Possibly himself too, since it is the first time he actually commented on how it's 'painful' to do this despite being thrown in deadly and hurtful situations a lot. (tho it could just be pain from the cut, I still find it strange he comments it's painful.)

He is influenced by rumors which is a supernatural trait, not a human one, and Minamotos are not affected by rumors.

...Or are they?

Since i’m already going wild, i’ll throw another out of pocket theory here: Teru does gain powers by rumor, that’s where his astronomical popularity comes from.

The other character we are told to be ‘the peak of beauty’ in this manga is Aoi, who was unnaturally beautiful since young, and attracted attention even as a toddler. While Teru seems isolated, not just from an ‘I'm not normal’ perspective.

But he got a popularity jump so big at some point that both boys and girls are interested, able to loudly proclaim their love, his beauty is so amazing it overshadows Aoi's, to the point, someone suggested they made a Teru pavilion. A pavilion that has a BIG line.

His beauty is the first thing we learn about Teru: His introduction is as a ‘handsome and dreamy boy’, not as an exorcist or any of his main traits, because that’s what Nene, and most of the school, sees him as.

Such hypnotizing beauty mysteriously disappears outside school. He has no fans or stalkers on the streets, and absolutely no one that isn’t from school ever comments on his beauty. Which is not the case with Aoi.

I know people have always been more respectful to Teru than to Aoi (misogyny is a bitch) but this is not just a change of approach caused by respect, Teru has no admirers at all in the city. Aoi is beautiful outside school too, people can’t help but stare and want her, it is a genuine problem she always had, but Teru, who should make everyone swoon regardless of gender or how weird he acts, is not worth even passing comments, he is treated as a normal guy outside school. A pretty boy, sure, but nothing special.

#i am not even going to lie i just went insane #i hope you don't mind #tbhk #toilet bound hanako kun #tbhk 104 #jshk104 #tbhk spoilers #tbhk manga spoilers #minamoto teru #hyuuga natsuhiko #This is half actual analysis half conspiracy theory levels of 'but what if-'#tbhk theory #theory

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