#it’d be like great I can just try it out and then I’d know

[swiftiethatlovesf1]

Back home p.6

Hii guyss, here's part 6 of the story if you've missed part 5 here it is and if you want to read more stories here's my masterlist.

The next evening arrives, and you find yourself waiting at your apartment for Charles to pick you up. Your nerves are fluttering slightly—not because you’re worried, but because it’s exciting. Dinner with Charles’s best friend, Pierre, and his girlfriend, Kika, sounds like a great time, and you’re looking forward to it.

You hear the familiar purr of an engine outside and peek through the window just in time to see Charles pulling up in his Ferrari. The sleek car glimmers under the streetlights, and a smile spreads across your face. You grab your things and head outside, the warm Monaco air wrapping around you as you approach the car.

Charles steps out, leaning casually against the side of the Ferrari, looking effortlessly charming as always. His grin widens when he sees you.

“You ready?” he asks, opening the passenger door for you with a teasing glint in his eyes. "I hope you don't mind the Ferrari."

You chuckle, shaking your head as you slide into the plush leather seat. “I guess I can make an exception for tonight.”

As you pull away from your apartment and speed through the streets of Monaco, you relax into the comfort of the ride. Charles makes small talk, asking about your day and telling you a little about Pierre and Kika. His voice is light, easygoing, but there’s an underlying warmth to it, like he’s genuinely happy to be spending time with you tonight.

You arrive at the restaurant, a cozy and upscale spot by the water, where Pierre and Kika are already waiting at a table outside. The view is stunning, the lights from the yachts reflecting off the calm waters of the harbor. Charles leads you over to them, and you’re immediately met with friendly smiles.

“Y/N, this is Pierre and his girlfriend, Kika,” Charles introduces you, his hand gently resting on your lower back as he speaks. “Guys, this is Y/N.”

Pierre stands up and gives you a playful grin, shaking your hand warmly. “Ah, the famous Y/N,” he says with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “I feel like I already know you—Charles couldn’t stop talking about you when we were younger.”

Your eyes widen slightly, and you glance at Charles, who’s now blushing faintly, clearly caught off guard. You laugh softly, trying to brush off the embarrassment, but you can’t help but notice the hint of pink coloring Charles’s cheeks.

“Really?” you ask with a teasing tone. “I had no idea I was such a topic of conversation.”

Charles clears his throat, looking sheepish but amused. “Pierre likes to exaggerate.”

Pierre chuckles, sitting back down as Kika offers you a friendly smile. “It’s true, though,” Pierre continues, ignoring Charles’s half-hearted protest. “You were the girl next door, right? I remember hearing stories.”

You laugh again, feeling your own cheeks flush as you settle into your seat. Charles tries to steer the conversation away, but the teasing lingers, a warm undercurrent that makes you feel even closer to him.

As the night goes on, you find yourself genuinely enjoying Pierre and Kika’s company. Kika is sweet, easy to talk to, and you hit it off with her right away. The conversation flows smoothly, filled with laughter, jokes, and lighthearted teasing, mostly directed at Charles.

At one point, Kika leans over to you, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “We should definitely meet up again,” she says enthusiastically. “Maybe just us girls next time? It’d be fun!”

You smile, genuinely touched by her offer. “I’d love that. Let’s plan something soon.”

Charles, meanwhile, watches the interaction with a soft smile, clearly pleased that you and Kika are getting along so well. He catches your eye across the table and gives you a small, knowing grin that makes your heart flutter for a moment, though you quickly brush it off.

The dinner winds down after a couple of hours, and by the time you’re all saying your goodbyes, you feel like you’ve known Pierre and Kika for much longer than just one evening. Charles walks you back to the car, and as you settle into the seat, you realize just how much you enjoyed yourself tonight.

As Charles drives you home, the night air rushes gently through the open windows of the Ferrari. The quiet hum of the engine fills the comfortable silence between you, and you find yourself lost in thought, reflecting on how great the evening had been. Pierre and Kika were fun, and the whole dinner felt so natural, almost as if you were already part of their world.

Charles pulls up in front of your building and turns off the engine, glancing over at you with a soft smile. The dim glow of the streetlights casts shadows across his face, and for a moment, the air feels heavy with something unspoken.

“That was really fun,” you say, glancing at Charles as he starts the engine. “Thanks for inviting me.”

“I’m glad you came,” Charles replies, his voice warm and sincere. “They really liked you. Especially Kika.”

There’s a brief pause, and before you can say anything else, Charles leans over and places a soft kiss on your cheek. His lips are warm against your skin, and for a moment, time seems to stand still. You blink in surprise, feeling a slight flush creep up your neck, but before you can react, Charles pulls back, his usual charming smile in place.

“Goodnight, Y/N,” he says smoothly, his eyes lingering on you for a second longer than usual.

You smile shyly, your heart fluttering just a little. “Goodnight, Charles. See you soon.”

You step out of the car, still feeling the ghost of his kiss on your cheek as you make your way up to your apartment. As you close the door behind you, your phone buzzes in your pocket. Glancing at the screen, you see Arthur’s name flashing across it.

Arthur: Hey, how was dinner?

You smile, thinking how sweet it is that he always checks in on you. To you, this is just Arthur being your best friend, always looking out for you. He’s always cared about you, and moments like this remind you of how lucky you are to have him in your life.

You quickly type out a response, unaware of the deeper reasons behind Arthur’s text.

You: It was great! Pierre and Kika were super fun, and I think Kika and I are going to hang out again soon. How was your night?

On the other side of town, Arthur stares at his phone, his jaw tight as he reads your message. She had a great time, Arthur thinks, his grip tightening around his phone. Of course she did. Charles always knows how to charm people. The thought makes his chest tighten with a mix of jealousy and frustration.

He types a response quickly, trying to keep his tone casual even as his mind races with thoughts of you spending the evening with Charles instead of him.

Arthur: Glad to hear it! Just wanted to make sure you’re okay. We should hang out soon, yeah?

You smile at his message, once again oblivious to the storm of emotions brewing behind Arthur’s words. To you, it’s just Arthur being Arthur—your caring, thoughtful best friend.

You: Of course! Let’s plan something this weekend?

You set your phone down, feeling content after a lovely night, completely unaware of the tangled feelings you’re caught between. Arthur leans back on his bed, staring at your messages, the possessive urge gnawing at him. He won’t let Charles take you away from him—no matter what.

Tag list: @iamapersonwholikesunicorns, @janeh22, @victoriaholland, @abq654, @iamapersonwholikesunicorns, @anaferreira-4, @larastark3107, @itgirlofthecenturysposts, @boherahpsody, @iamkaku, @jz12, @boherahpsody

[izzystizzys]

As High Marshall Commander, a title foisted on him by the Galaxy’s fakest bitch aka Chancellor Palpatine, Fox theoretically has privileges and authorities like no other clone. In practice, he has a headache and gets ignored more obviously than before.

What he also has is a fancy new function on his personal comm unit modified to broadcast GAR-wide to all commanding officers, up to and including Jedi. It gathers dust next to his own modified button that sees much better use - a private channel to Stone, the only vod that will let Fox bitch at him to his heart’s content without hanging up (Thire) or bitching right back (Thorn).

It’s been a long shift of 72 hours, the maximum Stabby allows him to do without a well-placed hypo to the neck, when Fox finally collapses on his rickety cot in the Command quarters and hits the private comm connection to Stone without looking. He’s already rolling his eyes so hard it tweaks at the migraine that’s been building since hour 18 and heaving a put-upon sigh.

“Everyone is stupid, Stone, and asking to be thrown face-first from the Dome balustrades”, he begins, settling into a low, dead tone of voice to warm to the building monologue. It’s a marathon, not a sprint. “I swear to haran I’m going to wring Amedda’s stringy neck one of these days. I don’t know what magical Force gods his mother pissed off, but they made sure to punish her and the Galaxy at large a hundred times over. He sucks the joy and competence out of every room like a black hole of stupid. I’d call him a has-been, but I trust in the power of nepotism and also just don’t believe he ever was. I swear he’s doing it on purpose and - oh, kriffing Sith-damned hells, you know who’s definitely doing it on purpose?! The kriffing Chancellor, that wrinkly ass-faced ballsack!”

Taking a deep breath, Fox lets that sit in his chest for a moment, indulging in the feeling of bright weightlessness. “I swear he’s trying to keep the war going - no one man can be that incompetent and still draw breath, not even Amedda or Taa. Goddamn Taa - but anyways, kriffing hell, Stone, either the senility isn’t an act or he’s a bad cartoon villain from Dooby Scoo. Yes Sir, sending Senator Amidala to a Seppie-infested planet for negotiations is a great idea after her fourth bomb threat of the week. No Sir, I can’t hear you cackling evilly with Count Dooku under your lame two-credit robe as you’re definitely not colluding with the Republic’s enemies. What, you have a red lightsaber?! Oh, of course I don’t know what that means, I was dropped on the head as a tubie!”

Barely pulling in a harsh breath, Fox continues, palms pressing into his eyeballs hard enough to cause sparks. “And speaking of lightsabers and senile fucks, haran smite my ass off but who the kriff thought it’d be a good idea to give absolute tactical and military authority to the kriffing eldritch space monks! The Force didn’t bless them with the collective good sense it gave to a kriffing rock, and I’m tired of pretending otherwise! Has anyone kriffing read the Theed Convention of Sentient Rights in Wartimes?! NO?!! Well, color me UNSURPRISED, because war crimes ARE NOT! GOOD! BATTLE! TACTICS!!”

“They run around in crop tops, Stone, in crop tops! Oh, the Force provides - WELL I’M GOING TO PROVIDE MY FOOT UP YOUR ASS, AND IT’S GOING TO HURT BECAUSE YOU’RE NOT WEARING KRIFFING ARMOUR!”

“Sure, let’s send the preteens into active warzones under heavy artillery in kriffing party wear! Surely nothing will ever go wrong! And give them commanding positions equivalent to CC-clones, WHO WERE LITERALLY GENETICALLY CREATED FOR IT! WITH A DECADE OF INTENSE TRAINING! LET’S DO THAT, BECAUSE WE’RE ALL KRIFFING STUPID!”

He’s gesturing wildly at the ceiling now, face heating up as his blood boils beneath the surface. “And you know what really gets my lowers in a twist, apart from the preteen commanding officers and blatant kriffing high treason and war profiteering?! Is it the complete lack of recognition? Gratitude? Basic sentient rights?! No, Stone, no, I would take all that in stride if it meant I never had to see Skywalker and Amidala kriffing canoodle right in front of me again, and pretend like it isn’t the galaxy’s worst conflict of interest case in the making!”

“By all levels of Sith-hell, what the kriff is wrong with that woman? You have it all, you could have anyone, and you choose that twatwaffle?! And then they have the gall to lock themselves in a broom closet for twenty minutes straight and have me guard it! ‘Oh yes, Senator, naturally we all go rattling brooms with our good friends! Nothing dodgy happening at all! I definitely believe you were looking for detergent and have used a washing machine before!’ The absolute nerve on those two! And then last week - you’ll never believe this - High General Windu passed by, and I swear he looked like he wanted to throw himself off the roof! I’ve never been less impressed by anyone in my life, and I’m batch-mates with Bly!”

“Speaking of Bly, that little bitchtit - if I have to edit one more, one more kriffing propaganda piece of him staring at General Secura’s bits, I’m going to stab my eye out! And if I have to edit one more of Secura staring at his bits, I’m going to stab the other one out! The only good thing I have to say about them is they’re more subtle than Skywalker and Amidala, which means nothing really. I will never understand that woman - but then she’s worked with Jar Jar Binks for a decade and not had a nervous breakdown, so she either has nerves of steel or is on some good-ass drugs.”

“Girl, your choices. And you know what else is a choice? Kote kriffing roundhouse-kicking heads off droids when he has a perfectly good blaster right there! I don’t know what the Longnecks put in his tube, but I hope to kriff it’s not contagious. I’d say I’m glad he has Kenobi to keep him in check, but that man wouldn’t know common sense if it punched his nose clean off his face. Flirting with General Grievous, ugh. I’d say he can do better, but honestly, they deserve each other.”

“And Wolffe - “, panting, Fox pauses, considering. “Well, Wolffe is an asshole and stupid, and I hate him because he’s stupid and has a stupid face. Also he keeps drunkenly submitting adoption paperwork on General Koon’s behalf - I wish I could say something mean about that, but honestly, his existence is roast enough. Anyways, bitches are trying me today, and by bitches I mean everyone. Commander Fox signing off to go not commit treason, unfortunately.”

Thoroughly powered out, Fox sinks into his hard mattress with a deep sigh. Several seconds of silence reign, and then his comm unit starts blaring in alarm.

Somewhere in the Jedi Temple, Mace Windu is knocked flat on his ass by a gargantuan shatterpoint exploding.

[unorthodoxfaithxx]

Yandere JJK - Yuta Okkotsu

When you leave for a month long mission without telling your close friend and maybe crush, Yuuta. You come back and he’s cracked. 

It’d been two months since you left on a mission, only now being able to return back to Japan. When you arrived home to your shared apartment, you had expected a warm welcome from your kind and courteous friend, Yuuta. You imagined he’d tell you, “Welcome home,” ask how your trip was, and offer to make dinner like he usually did on days he felt adventurous enough to cook. The two of you lived pretty harmoniously together, both being capable sorcerers with similar demeanors and all.

What you didn’t expect was to be shoved against the wall of the flat’s narrow hallway kabedon style, body pressed flush against your roommate’s, who had a look on his face like he hadn’t been sleeping for weeks and just found out the cure to his insomnia was something ridiculously simple, bordering on relief and hysteria. 

“Where. Have you been.” He practically growled, your heart beating at an odd pace since he was barely an inch away from your face.

“Uhnn, on a mission. But great news-I’m back home and won’t be working for a bit, aha?” You broke eye contact, unable to withstand the cold intensity of his dark eyes. 

“And you left without telling me? Without telling anyone?” 

“Well, to be fair it was a secret mission! It wasn’t to be disclosed and even then I knew it’d only make you worry and you’d probably end up trying to tag along somehow. I didn’t want to distract you from your work, Yu.”

Your explanation didn’t do much to help calm his nerves. You could tell he was obviously worked up, he was breathing hard, his arms were shaking, and his newfound grip on your shoulders was soul crushing. You knew your friend was strong, but the fact that you couldn’t move at all from your position was impressive. 

“So you just up and left? That’s not fair,” His languid voice spoke with quiet rage. He was never one to raise his voice, not even now. “You don’t get to decide that. What if you had died? What if something happened and nobody from home knew anything about it? Would you be okay with leaving everyone behind? Leaving me?” 

“No…I mean…I wouldn’t want that. I mean hey, I’m here! We’re good now, right? I’m fine! We’re fine.” You said this last part with no confidence, “…Are we?”

Yuuta took a step back, staring at the wall next to you because he couldn’t stand to look at you. “No. We’re not.” 

He let you go, moving to turn back to his room. You grabbed his shoulder. “Hey-wait! I know you’re upset. I would be too. But please, don’t ignore me. I was so lonely on my own, now that I’m back I…well, is it too selfish to say I want you by my side? I missed you a lot.” Your abandonment issues were about to be the death of you.

“You trampled on my feelings, completely disregarding how I’d feel, and now you want pity?”

You deflated. “No. Just. I just want you. I’m sorry for hurting you, Yuta. I didn’t mean it, really.”

A minute of silence passed you both. You felt like you were about to cry. You sniffled. “I really am sorry.” 

He stared at the ground, muttering a soft curse before looking back at you, slowly opening his arms. He sighed. “I can never stay mad at you. I missed you too. C’mere.” 

And you nearly leapt into his arms, hugging him tightly. His scowl broke, turning into an ever so slight smile. 

Coming home wasn’t such a bad idea after all. 

You thought the two of you were cool and were about to offer to order take-out when he threw you over his shoulder, went to his room, and threw you on the bed, locking the door promptly behind him. 

“Uhhhh, Yuuta?” You asked. “Watcha doing?”

He chuckled darkly. “You confessed to me before your mission, right? And then you bolted before I could even respond. Well, I’ve had a lot of time to think about how I should reply in the past months you were gone. And this is my response.”

Your face grew red. How could you have forgotten about that? 

He crawled on the bed after you, leering over you like a tiger would its prey. 

“I love you. More than anything in the world. And when I noticed you left and had no idea when you’d be back, or if you’d come back at all? I thought I’d go crazy. It took everything in me to not kill the elites that ordered you on the mission and drag you back home myself.” He had you caged between his arms again, voice dropping to something thick and heavy at his next words, “I decided that when you came back, if you ever came back, I wouldn’t let you go anymore. I want you by my side forever. And even then forever’s no where near enough.”

“Quite the romantic, are you big guy?”

He smirked at that. “I’ve had enough time to study up on the type of guys you like.” You shivered when you felt his lips glide across your neck, a rough hand slowly sneaking up your stomach, beneath your clothes. 

“You’re mine tonight. And forever.”

Tonight was going to be a loooooooong night. 

[sadnymi]

Nonsense

[Theodore Nott × reader]

Summary: you have always been Hogwarts perfect girl ,excelled academically, demonstrated exemplary behavior, and has been a role model, but your obsession with Theodore Nott was getting out of hands.

Warning: fluff, strong language.

Words:3k.

I had been obsessed with Theodore Nott for as long as I could remember. Every morning before class, I’d muster up the courage to say, “Hi, Theo,” my voice soft and shy. I couldn’t help but blush every time he glanced my way.

In the Great Hall, I always found myself sitting at the nearest table to him during meals, stealing glances in his direction. Theodore was effortlessly cool, the quintessential bad boy, and it only made him more irresistible. His presence was magnetic, and I found myself drawn to him like a moth to a flame.

Despite my nerves, I made a decision. Today would be the day I finally talked to him. As I took a deep breath, calming my racing heart, I reminded myself that I had nothing to lose.

I saw him sitting alone in a corner of the library, sketching something intently. My heart skipped a beat. This was my chance. I approached him slowly, my palms sweaty, and my mind racing with all the possible things I could say without making a complete fool of myself.

“H-hi, Theo,” I stammered, my voice barely above a whisper.

He looked up, his eyes locking onto mine. “Hey, Y/N,” he said, a small smirk playing on his lips. “What’s up?”

I swallowed hard, trying to gather my thoughts. “I, uh, I just wanted to say that your drawing is really, um, beautiful,” I said, my words tumbling out in a rush. “I mean, you’re really talented. Like, really, really talented. It’s just so...beautiful. And, um, did I mention you’re talented?”

He chuckled, the sound deep and warm. “Thanks,” he said, clearly amused by my nervous rambling. “I appreciate it.”

I felt my face heat up, my cheeks undoubtedly a bright shade of red. “What are you drawing?” I asked, trying to keep the conversation going.

He tilted the sketchpad so I could see. It was a detailed drawing of a dragon, its scales intricately shaded, its eyes fierce and alive. “It’s incredible,” I breathed, genuinely impressed. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything like it.”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying my reaction. “You like dragons, huh?”

I nodded enthusiastically. “Yes, they’re fascinating creatures. And the way you’ve captured its essence is just...amazing. You’re amazing.”

He laughed, a low, throaty sound that made my stomach flutter. “You’re quite the fan, aren’t you, Y/N?”

I bit my lip, nodding shyly. “I guess you could say that.”

He leaned back in his chair, his eyes never leaving mine. “You know, you’re cute when you’re all flustered.”

I felt my blush deepen, and I couldn’t help but smile. “Th-thank you,” I stammered, my heart pounding in my chest.

He smirked, clearly enjoying the effect he had on me. “You should stay. Maybe I’ll draw you next what do you think?”

My eyes widened, and I felt a rush of excitement. “Really? You’d do that?”

He nodded, his expression serious. “Yeah. I think it’d be fun.”

I sat down across from him, feeling a mix of nervousness and exhilaration. “I’d love that,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper.

Mesmerized by the way his hand moved across the paper, I didn't even notice someone approaching. My mind was completely absorbed in Theo’s sketch and the subtle expressions on his face. I was smiling, lost in the moment, when suddenly, Theo’s voice broke through my thoughts.

“Y/N, can I talk to you?” A voice cut through my trance, but I barely registered it, still smiling and looking at Theo.

“Y/N,” Theo said, looking between me and someone else.

“Yeah?” I responded, still a little dazed.

He nodded towards my ex, who was standing there awkwardly. “He wants to talk to you.”

I blinked, finally noticing jacob standing there. “Oh, hi,” I said, my voice flat.

Jacob gave a tight smile. “Can we talk, Y/N?”

“Sure,” I replied, standing up reluctantly. Jacob frowned but took my arm, gently steering me away. I kept glancing back over my shoulder, my eyes drawn to Theo, who was already back to his drawing, seemingly unfazed.

“Y/N,” Jacob started, but I was only half-listening, my attention still fixated on Theo.

“Y/N?” Jacob repeated, more insistently.

“Yeah?” I asked, finally looking at him.

“I’ve been thinking a lot about us,” he began, but his words were a blur. All I could think about was Theo’s sketch, his focused expression, the way his hand moved so confidently across the page.

“Y/N!” Jacob said sharply, snapping me out of my reverie.

“Just go away, Jacob,” I said, waving him off without really thinking.

“But, Y/N—”

“I’m serious, Jacob. Just leave me alone.” I turned back towards Theo, who was still engrossed in his drawing. I hurried back over to him, feeling a mix of relief and excitement.

Theo looked up as I approached, a smirk playing on his lips. “Who was that?”

“Who?” I asked, momentarily confused by the intensity of his gaze.

“The guy you were just talking to,” Theo said, smirking slightly.

“Oh! Him. That’s…uh…” I stammered, trying to remember. “Jacob! That’s Jacob. He’s my ex.”

“ You forgot his name ?” Theo raised an eyebrow, smiling he added. “You seemed pretty distracted.”

I laughed nervously, feeling my cheeks heat up. “Yeah, I guess I was. I just...couldn’t stop thinking about your drawing....”

“Is that so?” Theo asked, his voice low and teasing. “You must really like my drawings, then.”

“I do!” I said eagerly. “You’re so talented, Theo. I wish I could draw like you.”

He chuckled, the sound making my heart skip a beat. “Why don’t you try?”

“Oh, I’m terrible at drawing,” I said quickly, shaking my head. “You don’t want to see that.”

“Come on,” he insisted, pushing the sketchpad towards me. “I’ll help you.”

I hesitated, then picked up the pencil. My hand shook slightly as I tried to draw a simple line. Theo’s hand covered mine, guiding me gently.

“Like this,” he murmured, his breath warm against my ear. He moved my hand slowly, and I felt a thrill shoot through me at his touch.

“I’m really bad at this,” I whispered, embarrassed.

“You’re doing fine,” he said, his voice soft and reassuring. “Just relax.”

I took a deep breath, letting him guide me. Together, we managed to sketch a rough outline of a dragon. It was nowhere near as good as Theo’s, but it was better than anything I could have done on my own.

“See?” he said, smiling at me. “Not so bad.”

I laughed, feeling a warmth spread through me. “Thanks, Theo. You’re a great teacher.”

He looked at me, his eyes intense. “I’m glad you think so,” he said, his voice low and smooth.

Before I could respond, Blaise Zabini sauntered over, his usual confident smirk in place. “Hey, Theo,” he greeted, then turned his attention to me. “Oh, hi, cutie.”

“Hi,” I replied, trying to keep my voice steady.

“Blaise,” Theo said, acknowledging his friend.

“Just wanted to let you know about the party this weekend,” Blaise said, his eyes flicking between Theo and me. “Should be a good time. You’re coming, right?”

“Yeah, I’ll be there,” Theo replied.

Blaise turned to me, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Why don’t you come too, Y/N? Bring a friend if you want.”

“Can I?” I asked, looking between Blaise and Theo.

“Yeah, sure, why not?” Blaise said with a grin. “You and that friend of yours... what was her name again?”

“Y/F/N,” I supplied.

“Right, Y/F/N,” Blaise repeated, nodding. “But are you sure you’re up for it? These parties can get pretty wild.”

I smiled, a determined glint in my eye. “I can handle it. You’d be surprised.”

Blaise chuckled, clearly amused by my confidence. “What do you think, Nott?”

Theo smiled, his gaze meeting mine. “Yeah, she can come. Should be interesting.”

As soon as I was out of earshot, I practically sprinted to find Y/F/N. I spotted her in the common room, reading a book. I burst in, unable to keep the news to myself.

“Y/F/N!” I exclaimed, causing her to look up in surprise.

“What’s got you so excited?” she asked, marking her place in the book.

“I talked to Theo today,” I said breathlessly, sitting down next to her. “And Blaise invited us to a party this weekend!”

Her eyes widened in surprise. “Theo Nott?”

“Yes!” I said, practically bouncing with excitement. “And he helped me draw, and he was so sweet, and then Blaise came and invited us to the party!”

Y/F/N grinned, her excitement matching mine. “We definitely need to go shopping for new outfits.”

“Absolutely.“

The end of the year was fast approaching, and the air in the Great Hall buzzed with anticipation. Professor Filius Flitwick stood at the front, addressed the assembled students.

“As you all know, the Yule Ball is a time-honored tradition,” he began, his voice carrying easily across the room. “This year, we have the honor of selecting one student to represent Hogwarts at the ball. This student has consistently excelled academically, demonstrated exemplary behavior, and has been a role model for their peers.”

I felt my heart pound in my chest, my mind racing with possibilities. Could it be me? I had always been at the top of my year, never cursed, never got into trouble. But still, it felt like a dream too far out of reach.

Professor Flitwick continued, his gaze sweeping over the students. “It is my pleasure to announce that this year’s representative for Hogwarts will be... Y/N Y/L/N!”

The Great Hall erupted into applause, and I felt my face heat up with a mixture of pride and embarrassment. I stood up slowly, my legs feeling a bit wobbly as I made my way to the front. Professor Flitwick smiled warmly at me as he shook my hand.

“Congratulations, Miss Y/L/N,” he said. “You’ve truly earned this.”

“Thank you, Professor,” I managed to say, my voice shaking slightly. I turned to face the hall, my heart soaring as I saw my friends cheering for me.

As I made my way back to my seat, I caught sight of Theo, his signature smirk firmly in place. He leaned against the wall, arms crossed, looking every bit the confident bad boy he was known to be.

“I knew it would be you,” he said as I approached, his voice low and teasing.

I felt a giggle escape my lips, my cheeks burning. “Really?”

“Of course,” he said, his smirk widening. “You’re the perfect student. Always top of the class, never in trouble. It was a given.”

I bit my lip, trying to contain my excitement. “Thanks,”

He tilted his head slightly, his gaze intense. “So, you’re coming to the party, right?”

I nodded, unable to stop the smile from spreading across my face. “Yes, I am.”

“Good,” he said, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Wouldn’t be the same without you.”

I felt a shiver of excitement at his words, my heart fluttering in my chest. Just then, one of his friends called out to him from across the hall.

“Theo! Come on, we’re going to be late!”

Theo glanced over his shoulder and then back at me. “Looks like I need to go. See you at the party?”

“See you there,” I replied, my voice barely above a whisper.

As the weekend approached, Y/F/N and I spent hours picking out the perfect outfits for the party. And we were getting ready in our dormitory, the excitement palpable in the air.

“How do I look?” I asked, twirling in front of the mirror.

“Absolutely gorgeous,” Y/F/N said, adjusting her earrings. “Theo won’t be able to take his eyes off you.”

I blushed. “Let’s hope so.”

We made our way to the party, the corridors of Hogwarts buzzing with the energy of students eager to celebrate. As soon as we entered the room, Blaise Zabini spotted us and sauntered over, his usual charming smile firmly in place.

“Ladies,” he greeted us, his eyes sparkling. “You both look stunning tonight.”

“Hi, Blaise,” I said, feeling a blush rise to my cheeks.

“Hi,” Y/F/N added, smiling.

Blaise turned his charm up a notch, giving Y/F/N an appreciative once-over. “You both are making everyone else look underdressed.”

I laughed, shaking my head. “Thanks, Blaise.”

As the night went on, I found myself searching the room for any signs of Theo. The party was in full swing, with students laughing, dancing, and enjoying themselves. We eventually found a spot to sit, and a few people came over to congratulate me on being chosen to represent Hogwarts at the Yule Ball.

Blaise leaned in, his smile never wavering. “Can I get you ladies a drink?”

“I don’t drink,” I said quickly, feeling a bit embarrassed.

“I do,” Y/F/N chimed in, giving me a playful nudge. “But only if it’s something good.”

Blaise laughed, standing up. “I’ll be right back.”

As Blaise left, I continued to search the room for Theo. My eyes finally landed on him, and my breath caught in my throat. He looked incredibly handsome in a black shirt, the fabric fitting him perfectly and highlighting his lean build. His dark hair was tousled in that effortlessly sexy way, and his eyes scanned the room with an easy confidence.

“There he is,” Y/F/N whispered, noticing my gaze.

“Yeah,” I murmured, my heart pounding in my chest.

Theo’s eyes met mine across the room, and a slow smile spread across his face.

I turned to Y/F/N, trying to steady my breath. “ I can’t breathe. He looks so handsome, I think I might die.”

She laughed, shaking her head. “Y/N, you’ve got it bad.”

“No, seriously, that black shirt has me thinking...” I paused dramatically, “no lube, no protection, all night, all day, from the kitchen floor to the toilet seat, from the dining table to the church, from the front porch to the balcony, vertically, horizontally, quadratic, while I gasp for air and scream the Lord’s prayer, he can top me.”

Y/F/N’s eyes widened, and she tried to interrupt. “Y/N…”

But I was on a roll. “Vertically, horizontally, missionary, cowgirl, reverse cowgirl, doggy, backwards, sideways, upside down, on the floor, in the bed, on the couch, in a chair, outside, in a train, on a plane, in the car, in the shower, on the street against the wall, until the room reeks. NO BREAKS!”

“Y/N!”

“I mean, come on, have you seen him? He’s so—”

“Y/N!” Y/F/N hissed again, her voice more urgent this time.

“What?” I snapped, feeling a bit annoyed at the interruption.

She looked at me with a horrified smile, trying to point behind me. “Please don’t freak out, but…”

“Please tell me he’s not—” I began, my voice trailing off as I turned slowly to see Theo standing right behind me, a smirk playing on his lips, his eyebrows raised in surprise.

For a moment, I just stared at him, my brain scrambling to process what had just happened. My heart plummeted, and I was about to fall from my seat.

“Y/N,” Y/F/N said quickly, “I—I really need to go search for Blaise. I think I heard him calling my name.”

She darted away, leaving me alone with Theo. I swallowed hard, trying to find my voice.

“Hey,” he said, his smirk widening. “Quite the imagination you’ve got there.”

“I—uh—” I stammered, feeling my cheeks burn with embarrassment. “I didn’t know you were...”

“Listening?” he finished for me, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “Clearly.”

“I, um...” I trailed off, not knowing how to respond.

He leaned in, his voice low and teasing. “So, vertically and horizontally, huh?”

My face turned beet red. I was about to fall off my seat when he caught me, his hands firm on my waist.

“Easy there,” he said, his voice soft and teasing.

I blinked, trying to find something to say. “Theo, I—”

He gently touched my face, his fingers brushing against my cheek. “You’re adorable, you know that?”

Theo chuckled, his eyes never leaving mine. “You know, you don’t have to fantasize. All you have to do is ask.”

My breath hitched, and I felt like my heart was going to burst out of my chest. “Ask?”

He nodded, leaning in so close I could feel his breath on my skin. “Yeah. Just ask.”

“Theo, I—”

He interrupted me, his face now inches from mine.

“Do you know what really turns me on, Y/N? Hearing you, the perfect little angel, talk so dirty. It’s like discovering a secret side of you. And I have to admit, it’s fucking hot.”

I bit my lip, trying to hold back a moan. "I was just—"

"Just what?" he whispered, leaning in so close that his lips brushed against my ear. "Just fantasizing about me taking you in every possible way? About me fucking you so hard you can’t breathe?"

A shiver ran down my spine, and I couldn't stop the small whimper that escaped my lips. He chuckled, clearly enjoying the effect he was having on me.

"You’re so damn sexy when you’re flustered," he murmured, his lips grazing the sensitive skin of my neck.

"Do you want me to kiss you right now?" he asked, his lips hovering over mine. "Because I want to. So badly."

I nodded, barely able to breathe. "Yes."

He closed the distance between us, his lips capturing mine in a fierce, hungry kiss. His hands roamed my body, pulling me even closer, and I melted into him, all my senses overwhelmed by his touch.

"Am I interrupting something?" Draco asked, raising an eyebrow.

I pulled away from Theo, my heart racing. "Draco, I—"

Theo sighed, stepping back but not letting go of my hand. "You’ve got impeccable timing, Malfoy," he said dryly.

"Do you two want to join us, or are you planning on giving everyone here a show?"

"We’ll catch up later," Theo said smoothly, his eyes still locked on mine. "You go without us, Draco."

Draco smirked. "Alright."

Theo watched Draco walk away before turning back to me. "Now, where were we?"

I shook my head, trying to clear it. "Theo, I—"

"Let’s start with a date," he said, his voice gentle but firm. "What do you say, Y/N?"

"A date?" I echoed, still trying to process everything.

"Yeah, a date," he said, his eyes softening. "And maybe, we can see if you really do scream God's prayers."

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

[kiss-inthekitchen]

favorite insomniac | spencer reid

a little warm-up exercise i just finished <3 you can't sleep, so you decide to call the only other person you know who would be awake at this hour. ~500 words

You don’t get insomnia. Usually, you fall asleep quickly and easily, and then devolve into any number of nightmares or vivid dreams or somethings that cause to you wake up feeling like you hadn’t slept at all. 

Obviously not great. But not insomnia.

Tonight, however, is not a usual night.

You roll over once again, after what feels like hours but is probably only twenty minutes of lying as still as possible and trying to will your body to be tired. You check the time on your phone; 3:14 AM. 

Ugh. You have to be at work in less than 6 hours, awake in less than 5. Closer to 4, if you want to actually look presentable. 

You groan, scrubbing your hands over your face and barely resisting the urge to start punching your pillows. 

And then you give up. 

There’s one insomniac you know who’s got a pretty good chance of being awake right now. You've dialed the number before you can even think about it. The line rings once, and you realize what an inappropriate, quite possibly disrespectful choice this had been. You’re about to hang up, hovering over the red button, when you hear him. 

“Hey,” he says, voice raspy. 

Oh god, oh god. “Please tell me I didn’t wake you up.” 

“No,” Spencer chuckles bitterly, “You didn’t. What’s wrong?” 

“I can’t sleep?” 

His eyebrows raise halfway to his hairline. “So you called me?” 

You and Spencer are coworkers. You’re friends. You just don’t really hang out much outside of work and work-related events. Not that you haven’t wanted to, you just… don’t really know how. Or if you should. Or if it would be particularly smart. 

“I’m so sorry. I figured if anyone was liable to be awake right now, it’d be… I wasn’t thinking. I’ll let you go, I’m–” 

“Hey, it’s alright,” he says, amused. You’re the only person he ever gets the opportunity to calm down; he’s usually the most nervous person in the room. “This doesn’t usually happen to you though, does it?” 

“No,” you huff, flopping back against your pillows. “I’d ask you for tips, but whatever you’re doing clearly isn’t working.” 

“That’s nice.” 

“Am I wrong?” 

“No, you’re not wrong.” 

You make a self-satisfied little “hmph” sound. 

“What did you call me for then?” 

Something in the timbre of his voice makes your heart speed up. “I don’t know, human connection across the ether that is 3 AM?” The sense that you’re the only two people in the universe. The sound of his voice. Not that you could say that part out loud.

“Wanna go for a drive?”

Huh? “Wh– We have work in, like, 5 hours.” 

“Oh, you haven’t been counting, have you?”

“You mean like thinking ‘if I fall asleep right now at this moment I could get 5 hours of sleep’ but then I still don’t fall asleep and I watch the minutes go by until it’s only 4 and a half hours and then I get angry at myself for being awake and then I’m somehow even more awake?” 

He chuckles, dark and rich through the phone. “The classic trap. Never count the hours.” 

“Now you tell me.” 

“Alright,” he grunts, and you hear him shuffling around, “I’m picking you up.”

“You're what?!"

"I'm picking you up," his voice lilts up, almost like a question. But not like he's asking for permission, more like he's teasing you. Like he knows your answer anyway.

"Now? You have a car?” 

“Yes, now. And yes, I have a car,” you hear jingling on the other end. “You’re gonna like it.”

[moonstruckme]

hiii!! i love your writing so much i think i’ve read every single thing you’ve ever posted. i’m genuinely obsessed 🫶🫶 i was wondering if you could write something where the reader and remus have been dating/talking for a little while and she hasn’t had her first kiss yet and she starts to get nervous everytime she thinks he’s abt to kiss her and she runs away?? i’m ngl this is based off of very real events in my life 😭😭

i love you so much!! hope your doing amazing

Hi gorgeous, thanks so much! This is soooo relatable of you haha, I have a library of hilarious stories about my very hyper friend who kept literally springing away from guys she liked who were trying to kiss her, but it does make for some very interesting (and often very sweet) conversations!

Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 1k words

On your first official date with Remus, the two of you went to a drive-in movie. You kept your seatbelt on the entire time. 

You only realized halfway through, mentally kicking yourself for being so jittery you’d lost all sense of normalcy, but by then it felt too late. It’d be awkward to take it off halfway through the movie, try to play that off as casual. You’d made your bed. You didn’t unbuckle until Remus dropped you off at your house at the end of the night. 

On your second date, you’re determined to be less uptight. You want him to know that you really do like him, even if your nerves make you jump and flinch whenever he gets close. At the Italian restaurant, it’s difficult to find a pasta dish without garlic, but you manage it. You’re a girl with an agenda. The two of you split a chocolate cake for dessert. It’s delicious, probably, though you can’t focus on much besides Remus’ story and the way his mouth moves as he tells it. How he tucks one corner of his bottom lip between his teeth when he’s trying to hide a smile. 

You have to hope belatedly that you haven’t somehow smeared chocolate all over your face while eating. You’re not at all confident you would’ve noticed. 

It’s a short walk back to your place, and you manage to jabber the whole way, a masterclass in self-sabotage. Remus doesn’t seem to mind, his hand light and cordial on your back as he guides you up the steps to your door. You savor the touch. It takes every ounce of willpower you have not to spring away. 

“It sounds really interesting,” he says graciously as you finish your tangent about the book you’ve just read. “I’ll have to pick up a copy.” 

“I can lend you mine,” you offer. “Maybe I can bring it the next time we hang out?” Your voice tips up hopefully at the end of the question, and warmth touches your cheeks. 

A similar pinkening spreads across Remus’ freckles. He smiles at you, the scar across his lip stretching. You’re spellbound. 

“Yeah, that sounds great.” You might be imagining it, but you could swear his eyes flit to your lips. “I had a great time tonight,” he says. “I really like talking to you.” 

Your voice is soft. “I like talking to you, too.” 

He takes a step towards you, and it’s like your muscles stage a coup. You take an involuntary step backward, a smile plastering itself uncomfortably on your face. 

“Thanks for everything,” you say brightly. “Goodnight!”

You spin and go for the door handle, and you’re nearly inside before you hear Remus’ quiet “Wait.” 

You turn. Lead in your bones. 

Remus is holding his palms up as if to show you he’s got no weapon. 

“Sorry,” he says, “I just wanted to…you know I’d never do anything you didn’t want me to, right?” 

You’re frozen stiff. 

“Like, even if I thought there was a chance you didn’t want to, I would never…” He shakes his head, looking lost. Guilt settles like a stone in your gut. “I guess I’m a bit confused. If you don’t want to do anything, that’s completely fine, but sometimes it seems like you want me to kiss you, and then you don’t…” 

“Rem,” you say. You feel like you’re breathing through a straw. “Remus, I’m so sorry.” 

“Don’t be sorry, sweetheart, it’s not your fault—” 

“No, it is. It’s not—I don’t want you to think I’m scared of you or anything. I’m not, it’s just, I get skittish.” You can’t make yourself look at his eyes, your gaze stuck just shy of his chin. Your face feels aflame. “It’s not you. I’m just nervous.” 

“Oh.” It’s a soft thing, more exhale than anything. Then his fingers curl under your chin, tipping your face up. “Well, you can relax, love. I was never going to make a move unless I got a clear signal from you first. But we can just take that off the table completely, if you’d like.” He gives you a small, gentle smile. “I only want you to feel comfortable.” 

Your heart zings right up into your throat. “I do feel comfortable,” you blurt. “I don’t want it off the table.” 

Remus’ eyebrows flick upwards. “You don’t?” 

“No,” you murmur, bashful. 

His eyebrows come slowly back down, puckering slightly as he tries to figure you out. His eyes narrow until his lashes kiss. His tongue pokes into his cheek, just a little. You miss nothing. You find yourself taking in a quiet breath, steeling yourself. 

You move across that tiny bit of air between you and find him there waiting.

It’s everything you could’ve hoped for and yet startlingly simple. Remus’ lips are warm and soft, pressing into yours with an intensity that you suspect is nonetheless restrained for your benefit. He tastes like chocolate cake. 

His mouth meanders over to the corner of your lips, granting one quick peck to your cheek before making its way back to the center of your mouth, reverent. He backs away slowly, easing you out of it. 

“Wasn’t really expecting that,” he admits.

“Me neither. Was it alright?” Your voice is a bit breathy. “I’ve never done that before.” 

For a moment, he’s quiet. 

“That was your first kiss?” 

You swallow, rubbing your lips together as you nod. 

“Sweetheart,” he grins, “you’re a natural.” 

A giggle spurts out of you, dizzy with the taste of him and the novelty of it all. “You mean it?” 

“I wouldn’t lie to you.” He mimes drawing a cross over his heart. It occurs to you that you both seem infinitely more at ease than you have since dinner. The corner of Remus’ bottom lip goes between his teeth, his cheek dimpling. “I mean, there is something to be said for practice, though.” 

You don’t fight your own grin; it comes out in full force. “Mm, I think I’ve heard something about that. Practice makes…defective, right? Something like that.” 

“C’mere.” Remus rolls his eyes at you, but as his arms wrap around you his smile mirrors yours. 

[spnexploration]

Comments

Happy birthday Dean Winchester! Here's a quick one-shot I whipped up to celebrate.

This also fulfils the 'Plus Size' square of my @spnaubingo 2023 bingo card, even though it's 2024... I'm late, I know, but I still want to do some more of it!

Pairing: Dean Winchester x plus sized!reader

Words: 1.6k

Warnings: Couple of crap comments from a random, some not-great self-esteem and a drunk character, but nothing particularly bad.

Synopsis: A man you're interviewing makes some crap comments about your body, and Dean doesn't help. Can he make it up to you?

Supernatural writing masterlist

“Which one’s the father?” The sleazy guy joked. My stomach dropped.

“Excuse me?!”

“Oh, it’s alright love, I know the real father’s probably suffering somewhere alone while you’re off gallivanting with your workmates. I’m surprised he lets you out, really.”

The urge to punch the witness we were interviewing was overwhelming. Rather than ruin the case, I turned on my heel and marched out.

Fuck that guy. I’m not pregnant and I’m not screwing either of the Winchesters.

I heard Dean’s FBI agent tone of voice as he started speaking behind me. Great to see they were all just moving on with their lives, I thought sarcastically.

---

📱 Where are you? We’re going to the next witness’s house

A text came in from Dean. I read it but didn’t reply.

📱 You ok?

I sighed. Finally, he asks.

📱 Fine. I’ll catch up with you later

I replied. He sent me a thumbs up, I rolled my eyes.

I kicked at the ground and started the walk back into town. Sam and Dean would probably try and make me feel better, but I knew that wasn’t happening. I looked down at my soft, flabby belly that I’d tried multiple times to lose.

I walked.

---

I felt a bit absurd, getting tipsy this early. It wasn’t that I felt like I had to drink to get over the comment. It was just  that I’d gotten back to the motel room and was feeling a bit morose, and there was nothing to do. I’d tapped out of the case and I was bored. I went for another wander and this stupid town had nothing in it but a pub, and so somehow I’d ended up here, starting drinking a lot earlier than normal.

And now I looked like I was drinking my feelings, when I wasn’t.

 Not that there was anyone looking at me anyway.

Well, except in disgust. Who knew how many more people in here thought I was pregnant too. Probably thought I was harming an unborn baby, right now.

Fuck them.

---

“You know there’s still a monster on the loose?” Dean said gruffly, a frown on his face. I guess it’d been easy to find me given how few things there were in this town.

“You struggling without me?” I didn’t think I was slurring too much, but his expression did not improve when I started talking.

“How you going to fight one off like this?” he gestured to me.

“You think a few drinks are why I’m fat?” I said sarcastically.

“I’m not calling you fat, I’m calling you drunk.”

“Right,” I said with an eyeroll.

“Come on, get in the car,” he said, trying to tug my arm.

“Fuck off Dean! I can drink if I want to. There’s nothing else to do in this shithole, anyway.”

He dropped my arm and stomped off to the bar.

I turned back to my drink. Sam came and sat opposite me. You can’t escape the bloody Winchesters.

“Hey, you ok?” he asked with his puppy dog eyes.

“I’m fine. I had a free afternoon, I came to get a drink. Is that fucking crime now?”

“I meant about what happened with the guy. You seemed pretty upset.”

“Surprised you could see that, you were both so busy being silent.”

“Didn’t you hear Dean?”

“How could I hear Dean when he wasn’t saying anything?”

“No, he laid right into the guy.”

“You don’t have to lie to make me feel better. I heard Dean get right back into his FBI voice as I walked off.”

“Yeah, he was still in character at first, told the guy that he needed to speak respectfully to Agents. And then when the guy was still a douche he got a bit more Dean and threatened to punch his lights out if he didn’t shut up about you.”

I laughed into my drink. I was sure Sam was embellishing, there was just no way Dean would care that much about someone being mean to me.

Speak of the devil, Dean appeared again, tumbler of whiskey in one hand and a glass of water in the other. He put the water in front of me.

“Thanks, but I don’t accept drinks from strangers,” I said sarcastically.

“I’m not having you hung over tomorrow and being a liability to the case, drink the water.”

“I don’t remember electing you.”

“Jesus, you’re even more belligerent when drunk. Just drink the water and stop moping.”

“I’m not moping!”

“The guy was an asshole, no one thinks you look pregnant. But you can’t just drink yourself blotto and get yourself killed every time someone says something mean to you.”

I stood up, grabbed the glass of water and upended it all over Dean’s face. Then I marched out the door.

The effect was a little ruined by my drunken stagger, though.

---

Sam caught my arm as I got outside. “Come on, I’ll drive you home.”

“I walked myself here, I can walk myself home!”

“I’m pretty sure you were walking in a straight line when you got here though. Come on.”

I let him tug me to the Impala. He must’ve grabbed the keys off Dean before chasing after me.

“He’s just worried about you,” he said gently as we were exiting the carpark. “Doesn’t want you getting hurt.”

“That does not give him a free pass to behave like that.”

---

Dean stood over me, a glass of water and a couple of painkillers in his hands. “Morning, sunshine. Need some relief?”

I gratefully reached out. Man, I did not normally drink that much.

“What time is it?”

 “Time to work the case.”

I groaned, “Can’t you do it without me?”

“No, come on, back on the horse.”

“It’s not the horse that’s the problem, it’s the dog that bit me.”

“I did tell you to drink water,” he said smugly.

“Fuck off!” I threw my pillow at him. He easily deflected but wisely left me alone after that.

I groaned and got off the couch I’d been sleeping on, slumping to the bathroom. The boys were sitting around the tiny table, already dressed and looking at their laptops.

Sam was gone when I came out, freshly showered, dressed and feeling slightly more human. I looked at Dean with a clear question on my face.

“He’s gone for coffee, thought you could use some.”

“Thanks.”

“I, uh,” Dean continued, more hesitantly, “I owe you an apology.”

I crossed my arms across my chest. An apology from Dean was a rare thing, but I was wary it was going to end up being a backhanded insult instead. I often felt like I needed to protect my heart from being hurt by him.

“I was worried about you getting hurt when I saw you were drunk. But I just tried to solve the problem, I didn’t actually talk to you, and I,” he paused, biting his lip, “I shouldn’t do that.”

“Nice to see I’m just a problem,” I replied sarcastically. I wasn’t sure why he was riling me so much, but I still felt so hurt and angry.

He stood up and came over to me. “You’re not a problem,” he said quietly, trying to look into my eyes. I ducked my head away from the intensity of his look. “And I am sorry that asshat upset you.”

“I didn’t get drunk just because some guy called me pregnant, you know.” I could hear how defensive I sounded, despite my best efforts not to.

“It’s a shitty thing he did anyway. You’re beautiful.”

I laughed mirthlessly.

“Don’t do that,” he said quietly. “Don’t put yourself down all the time.”

“Dean, your idea of beautiful is tall, thin, busty and great hair.”

“That’s not true.”

“Well, they’re all thin at least.”

“Who are ‘they’?”

“The women you sleep with, the women you hit on.”

“I can think of many women I’ve hit on who aren’t ‘thin’, it doesn’t matter to me.”

“Suuuure,” I said with an eye roll.

“But I haven’t hit on many women lately, been distracted by one in particular.”

“Let me guess, beautiful?”

“Absolutely.”

“My point exactly. It’s ok Dean, you don’t have to ma-” Dean’s fingers found my chin, nudging it up so I would like at him.

“You’re beautiful,” he said, looking deep into my eyes. “I’m sorry I haven’t made you feel it.”

I stared at him, mouth agape. Absolutely stunned into silence.

“And I’m sorry again that I was a bit of a dick yesterday.”

His face came even closer, watching my reactions.

“You’re my weak spot,” he whispered.

“No, I’m not.” I put my hands on his chest, “Dean, this isn’t funny, don’t tease me.”

He dropped his hand from my chin, looking hesitant. “Sweetheart, I’m putting my heart on the line here, I’m not teasing.”

My hands slackened.

He edged a tiny bit forward.

His tongue darted out and back in. I couldn’t stop staring at his lips.

Was this even real?

How was this happening?

His hand came up to cup my cheek.

I leant forward.

The world suddenly sped up again. Dean moved in, closing the gap between us and bringing his lips to mine. I lost myself in the tenderness of his touch, the softness of his lips, the  exploration of his tongue and mine.

A sudden noise made us pull apart. Sam was standing in the doorway, cardboard holder with coffees in one hand and the other on his hip.

“I’m happy for you guys and all, but we still have a case to work. You can pick this up later.”

.

.

.

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[signanothername]

do you think dream might also have some sort of chronic pain? nightmares legs are like obviously really messed up from corruption, but like being in stone for more than 400 (or 500 I kinda forgot how long he was in stone for) years has gotta do something to your joints or bones. Probably maybe not something as painful as what nightmare goes through, but I’d expect it to be painful or discomforting nonetheless

ACTUALLY YESSSSS ANON I DO THINK DREAM IS IN CHRONIC PAIN TOO!!!

And they’re definitely joints, definitely suffers from some sorta arthritis, being frozen in place for so long can be debilitating, and allow me to say that I love to think Dream also wasn’t just able to move around like he just wasn’t frozen for 500 years when he got free

Like I absolutely love to think he barely could move at all when he first got out of his prison, he definitely was in so much pain too, and absolutely struggled to move his limbs, like I wholeheartedly believe he just lay there without moving for a while (all while his mind was on overdrive as his memories got back to him as to what the hell happened)

And well, that pain as well as stiffness, especially in his joints just stuck with him, he now also struggles a lot of the time with moving too much or working, and sometimes the pain can amp up to the point he just can’t move at all, literally would cry from the pain, he’d force himself to stay as still as possible as to not irritate his pain even more

And unlike Nightmare, who’s pain is mostly just his back and legs, Dream’s pain is in every and each joint in his body, from every vertebrae in his spine, to every finger joint in his hands

Now take that and include Dream’s archery in the mix :)

One of the biggest things about archery is that you have to have strong flexible joints to be able to use a bow without any problems, not to mention, using it excessively can cause joint stiffness/pain, so I think it’d be easy to imagine how hellish using a bow is for Dream

But Dream had to learn how to use it effectively with his disability if he wanted to survive, the reason Dream picks up archery specifically is both cause it holds sentimental value to him as he used to play archery with Nightmare, and cause he knows he needs a long range weapon when Nightmare got his tentacles, he can’t be too careless and be at close proximity to his brother when he’s trying to kill him

So even tho there’s so much in his way, Dream managed to learn how to use a bow effectively all the same

It doesn’t mean he never faces any problems when fighting with his bow, Dream has great aim, but even then he’d sometimes miss his target just cause of the pain/stiffness he has, and sometimes it irritates his joints so much that he’s just unable to keep fighting and so he just retreats

I like to think Dream never even knew how to make his pain better at all, he never knew how to treat it, so for the longest time he just lived with it, until he met Swap, and well, he finally understood that he doesn’t need to just live with it and that there are methods to treat the pain, so now he wears braces under his clothes most the time, especially his wrists, arms and knees, he sometimes uses heat/cold therapy and he’s definitely on pain medications on a daily basis

Damn this boi needs a break

[katszumi]

“haji?” his name escaped your lips in a whisper.

the lamps from the street lit up the night sky, the stars from above doing it’s best to keep the night awake. still, darkness surrounded the area, only dark figures could be depicted from their eyes.

you could only guess it was close to midnight from the way the moon shone and the cold slap of wind that gushed your way. however, the quick warmth of your face and the rapid throb inside of your chest disregarded the chills.

iwaizumi analyzed you, his eyes wandering your body as if you were a stranger.

“haji, what are you doing here?”

his lips parted, he wanted to answer you, but he wasn’t even sure why he ran to your house at midnight. he just needed to see you.

“my flight is tomorrow.” he announced like you hadn’t known. all of the third years celebrated one final time before his departure, resulting in endless laughter and tears. as much as he didn’t want to admit it, he didn’t want to leave japan behind, because you were still here.

“i know. that’s why you should be getting some sleep, you have a long day tomorrow.” you forced yourself to swallow; to eat away the gnawing feelings that were in the back of your throat aching to come out. you didn’t want to put that burden on him, especially at a bad time like this.

iwaizumi dryly chuckled. of course you were trying to care for him, but he could see the wistful look you gave him. he could tell you were tired due to the bags under your eyes, but your eyes were wide with adoration and hope.

he took a step forward, “you’re too kind, you know that?” his words soft. “can i sleep here tonight? i can’t wake up to an empty room, i just can’t.” he rambled.

without hesitation, you widened the door for him to come inside. you knew it probably wasn’t a good idea for him to stay, but, who were you to tell hajime iwaizumi no?

quickly, iwaizumi welcomed the warmth of your home to his body. his eyes traveled the rooms nearby, he took a mental screenshot, because who knew when was the next time he’d be here or if you even still lived here when he’d come back. he wanted to remember as much of you as he could, but he knew the figments of his memory just wasn’t enough.

he followed you to your bedroom, the two of you sitting next to each other on your queen-sized bed. he always loved the size of your bed, it seemed to fit him more than his own bed at home.

“i’m sorry for knocking at your door so late.” he apologized, his eyes finally settling in to the dimly lit room. he could now make out your features that he was so infatuated with.

“don’t worry about it. i’ll always answer the door for you, haji.” and god, he loved the way his name fell from your lips. like you were destined to say only his name only.

iwaizumi sighed, “america is going to suck without you or oikawa there. it’s like i have to start all over again, just without the company of you two.” he confessed.

your hand found his, gently grabbing it and rubbing circles against his rough skin. you could feel the callouses that were starting to form on his palm, most likely from lifting weights.

he allowed you to fiddle with his hands, he found solace in your touch. his eyes closing for the first time tonight.

“you’ll do great in america. you’ll find new friends and new company to keep you busy. who knows, you might even find someone you’re interested in.”

immediately, his eyes flew open, his head turning to face you. haven’t you realized that it was you he was interested in. it was you that won his heart years ago.

“wha—“ you said from his sudden turn, wondering if you said something wrong, but he interrupted you before you could finish.

“i don’t want to do that. i don’t want to find someone i’m ‘interested’ in. it’d be useless anyway.” he murmured the last part.

now your ears piqued at his comment.

“what do you mean it’d be useless?”

he paused. “i’d be searching for you in every girl i’d meet.” iwaizumi declared. “that’s why i’m here, y/n. it crushes my soul that i’m leaving you behind. i want you by my side, i feel empty whenever you’re not.”

you could’ve sworn that you heard a sniffle emit from the male beside you, but you knew not to comment on it, or he’d probably end the conversation right there.

you cupped his cheek with your hand, a half smile forming on your face. only you were able to see this side from him; the affectionate, tender side that no one else have been able to witnessed.

“it breaks my heart you’re leaving me too. but i know you’re destined for great things. but i know you’ll be able to visit and i’ll always be a call away. it hurts me knowing my two soulmates are moving thousands of miles away. but i can’t be selfish, haji. it’s not about me.” you protected your feelings, because you knew if it turned into more, the morning would be too much of a heartbreak.

iwaizumi shook his head. “but i want you to be,” he pleaded. “i don’t want to get on that plane tomorrow morning with regret because i didn’t have enough courage.”

“courage for what?” it was a stupid question. you knew what he meant, but you were so nervous.

“to tell you i love you.” his eyes searched you for any discomfort, the words almost causing him to have a heart attack. iwaizumi knew he was bad with feelings, especially with how he dawned this proposal onto you a night before he leaves for another country.

but if he didn’t tell you now, he wasn’t sure if he would even board the plane tomorrow morning.

disregarding your feelings before, you leaned into his touch, your nose touching his. you could feel his breath hitch, the warmth of him radiating onto you. your free hand cupped the other side of his cheek as you pressed your lips onto his. years of emotions spilled from the delicate kiss you shared, like a river overflowing its bank.

and you two laid there, peppering slow kisses on each other’s faces, wiping the tears that slipped from both of your eyes.

iwaizumi knew more than before that he was so terribly smitten with you, but he wished that his final hours with you weren’t ticking away with a plane ticket to america with his name on it.

—

ahhh there’s nothing like a man who’s bad at expressing feelings till the last minute🤌🏽

[reesespeanutbutterfuck]

love marks & battle scars

[rival! enemy! ken sato x baseball teammate! undercover KDF agent! reader]

part 1

drabble | part 2

pairing: kenji sato x reader

cw: sfw for now, rivals to lovers, enemies to lovers, hardcore!intimidating!reader, matsui’s daughter!reader, cursing, minimal details are changed to fit into the storyline, ken and reader will get kinda freaky eventually, spicy themes, allusions to sex, mdni u have been warned !!! don make me come for u D:< !!!, girldad!kenji, reader becomes emi’s mother figure, goofy ahhhh writing as usual

a/n: ch one takes place in ken's first game in the beginning btw

ken sato, your egotistical new teammate has been ticking you off and thinning your patience, being a threat to your place in yomiuri giants. 

ultraman, your nemesis who always gets in the way of your job in the kdf, that you only joined in hopes of finding leads and getting clues to track your parents.

and somehow you even ended up being a co-parenting his… kaiju daughter. something you never signed up for.

What beautiful, festive night with clear skies it is tonight. 

After lazily strolling through the back of the arena, Ken finally found his way to the open door leading to the bleachers, where he can already see the bright lights inside the dome and hear the cheers of the lively crowd. He elatedly took a deep breath before he entered the arena through the entrance that led him to his designated team, all in the middle of having an adrenaline rush. 

It was his first time playing as a member of the Yomiuri Giants. Very exciting. There really is nothing that gives his system a fulfilling rush than baseball.

Ah, what a nice night to–

“Oi, Sato!” 

Be nagged. Great way to prepare for a game.

“He-hey! Shimura!” with a smug smile, he merrily raised to greet Shimura like how an old friend would to another. “Nice team. Is the place for Captain open? Because I’d love to take you up on that.”

Shimura annoyedly narrowed his eyes at him. “Lucky you, it’s open, and also unlucky you, because that spot is good as reserved this season.”

Ken slightly tilted his head, “What’cha mean by reserved?”

“Technically, the Captain of last season would still be the unofficial Captain of this season until a new one gets decided. And I don’t plan to replace my current Captain anytime. Unless someone in the team can surpass them. Only the best players in my team are chosen as the Captain.”

He registered the information he heard. Just like an heir to a throne. A King. That sure sounds nice.

“So, this former Captain-current unofficial Captain of yours has been the team Captain for consecutive seasons? Then, that must’ve only meant he’s unbeatable. He better watch his back if he wants to maintain his streak.” now that he’s here, surely not.

Shimura failed to contain the slight smirk that plastered itself on one side of his lips. In the side of his face that is out of Ken’s line of vision, so Ken doesn’t see. He thinks, clearly he doesn’t know what he’s saying nor who he's dealing with. 

“I’ll introduce you to the acting Captain of this team as a formality.” he chose to play it cool and not push it further, it’d be better if he observes you himself.

“Where’s [L/N]?” Shimura asked the busy team, getting their attention to him and Ken because of the mention of the last name. He scanned the team, seemingly looking for someone yet guessing from his furrowed brows and craning of his neck, it seems that the acting Captain that he’s looking for isn’t here.

“Arrived not a while ago. Still at the back, Coach.” one of his teammates in the middle of tying their shoelaces answered and jerked their thumb towards the door trailing to the locker room.

“It'll have to wait later, then.” Shimura acknowledged, “By the way, about your little imaginary advertisement title during the PressCon. Just to remind you again, no place for your so-called Ken Sato Show in my team. So don't try me.” Shimura warned him while pointing his index finger on his chest.

Ken raises both of his hands defensively forcing laughter. “Okay, okay. Got it.”

Ken’s attention drifted to someone emerging straight to the team out of nowhere, wearing a dark tinted helmet and a motorcycle jacket.

“[L/N], about time.” Shimura turned his head to you in relief. In Ken’s point of view, it’s like your arrival meant the team was saved. Looks like even Shimura has his favorites. Too bad you’re going to be dethroned soon. “Did you forget your batting helmet so you wore a motorcycle helmet instead?” Shimura pointed out your outlandish attire.

You let out a muffled snicker under your helmet. You held the helmet with your hands to take it off. Ken waited to see the face of his newfound rival under the helmet, fully expecting a man, preparing to say something to assert dominance over you. His expectant smile dropped when after you removed your helmet and shook your head to free your hair, the moment your hair flowed and his eyes lay on your face, was also the moment he realized...

You were not a man.

The Captain of the Giants… is a woman?

What the f–

Well, he wasn’t trying to be sexist or anything. No, no, not at all. He knows a lot of strong women in his life and his mother would be just one of many. He acknowledges women are just as capable as men. It’s just, it’s been so long since he was last updated with the Giants even before he got in. First reason is because he really doesn’t care about the identities of his future teammates. And second, because he, what’s the term? Lost interest in them when he cut off everything associated with Japan, because it reminded him of his dad who traded him and his mother to the Ultraman gig. Gosh, how long has it been? 

“Where did you come from?” 

“Audience’s entrance. Your interviewers are camped in the corridor on the way to the locker rooms.” You tossed your helmet to the nearby bench. 

My god, not even your height or the way your physique looked under your baggy jacket gave away the fact that you were a woman.

Ken, after a moment of being taken aback by your appearance, straightened himself subtly when you glanced at him for a few seconds. He’s not nervous, is he? Of course not. No one ever makes him, the Ken Sato nervous. He fought the urge to hit his own head with his palm. For god’s sake, Kenji, snap out of it.

“Who’s this?” Your tired eyes shift from him to Shimura. You don't know him? Once again, you did it. The fact that you didn’t know him added to the damage you did to his ego.

He observed you closely. You had a stern expression, sharp eyes, a prim, somewhat almost restrained appearing composure and a low, sultry voice. He does admit, your intimidating aura really does reflect that of a leader. Oddly attractive.

Yet not enough to distract him from his goal.

“Your new teammate, Ken Sato.” Shimura answered with his hand gesturing toward Ken. “Sato, this is our consecutive Captain, [Y/N L/N].” Shimura introduces you to him. 

Shimura’s words echoed in Ken’s ear. “only the best players are chosen as the Captain”, You’re the best player of this team. You, in front of him, right now. 

“Nice to meet you, Captain.” Ken forced a smile, trying to pull himself together.

Your eyes went back to him after, he can tell you’re sizing him up. It didn't take long before Ken got lost in his thoughts again. You had a sharp gaze, one that if it were possible to kill, he would be down lying on the floor. Your gaze almost even looks like a glare already. 

He was snapped out of his thoughts when after moments of not moving, you walked towards his direction. He expectantly prepared himself mentally to converse with you, but he was beyond shocked when you walked past him.

What… 

What?

Did that really just happen? It did. The proof was the trail of your scent you left walking past him. Your perfume smelled musky, yet also sweet. Not painful to the nose. 

He’d lie if he said he wasn’t expecting you to interact with him, welcome him in your team or initiate anything, anything at all. But you just… didn’t care? Shouldn’t Team Captains, even acting ones greet new teammates? If he were the Captain he’d do it. Is this how they welcome teammates in Tokyo? He had never been this humbled in his whole life.

Shimura didn’t have any reaction, as if it was just what he had already expected from you. You sat at your team’s side of the bleachers to change your shoes and wear your face guard, not even looking back in their direction to even lay your eyes on him again. Ken still cannot believe what had just happened. He’s stupid for expecting, and you’re clearly not friendly, and it’s fine. He can take that. 

On the bench, you stifled a yawn. If you yawn freely, Shimura would notice it with his hawk eyes and nag you asking why’d you tire yourself out before a game and of course you cannot disclose why. You woke up on the wrong side of the bed today because of the aftermath of your discreet job outside baseball. Neronga was a resistant one, you’d say. If Ultraman hadn’t meddled with your mission, you would’ve finished the job sooner and you would’ve had enough rest.

“Yo, Captain.” one of your teammates, Otomo, approached you.

“Stop calling me that.”

“Why? You were the Captain last season, and surely you’ll still be in this one.”

You glared at him and diverted your attention to your shoelaces without replying.

“What’d you think about our new teammate?” Nothing but a show-off. “Heard a while ago Sato over there was also aiming for the same title.” Otomo gestured his head to Sato.

Your hands continued tying your laces. You’d like a healthy competition. Whatever he wants. You don’t care about the Captain title on its own, anyway. You only care about being Captain because it meant you were the best out of everyone in the team. While Sato was changing in the locker room, you stood up after you finished wearing and fixing your baseball gear.

You were fixing the soles of your shoes when your vision caught some of your teammates piling up while watching something on their mobile phones. Some of them seemed to be genuinely fanboying on Sato and some of them didn't like him. You? You're part of the latter, like these guys.

“[L/N], it’s Sato’s PressCon last night. Come watch with us. He claimed himself the greatest active player.” you overheard as they kept replaying that one part over and over and laughing. You were right. That Sato is conceited. And he’s not even subtle about it.

Greatest active player, huh. You’d like to see if he can walk his talk.

Before the game started, Shimura called you all to discuss the sequence. And you and Sato were accidentally placed beside each other.

“You lead.” Shimura points at your direction. You weren't sure who, because Sato was placed little more in front of you.

“Coach, do you mean, me?” You clarified.

“No, Sato.” he pointed at the new guy, Sato. “You’re first one up. Bat.”

Your narrow eyes focused on this Sato guy. You sized him up once again. Usual pretty boy, pretty face, but petty attitude. What’s special about him? First impressions, off. But, you do have to see how he plays first to judge him.

“He’s the best player in his former team. Let him lead.”

You wordlessly retreated and stepped back to give way to the players. You stared at his back containing his jersey number, Sato, number seven.

Meanwhile in front, Ken fights the urge to look at you. “Don’t worry guys, I’m about to change this team’s trajectory just tonight.” he confidently walked off with the same cocky smile.

Although it’s a bummer he won’t get the chance to watch you play first, he took the opportunity and stepped inside the court. He took his mind off of everything not inside the court. He has to focus. This is his time to prove himself. 

You do want to be the best, but you don’t always expect to be the best. There’s a fine line that differs between those two. Although, yes, your father would be displeased if he finds out you’re anything but the best. But if he's always a show-off, then you already have that advantage over him. He isn’t a formidable competition at all.

The crowd screeched when his face went all over the jumbotron's LED screen. While in the point of view of the audience, it’s very noticeable how he seemed uncomfortable with his left shoulder. Looks like it isn’t just you who has a skill issue today. He still had the strength to bicker with the catcher from the other team, though. He’ll be fine.

The game began, the pitcher pitched. He missed. The second pitch, he missed again.

Your face crumpled. You made a point once again. He, in fact, can’t walk his talk. You crossed your arms and sank your back against the backrest of the bench. You’ve lost interest in the game.

Disappointing.

For the third time, the pitcher pitches, and for the last chance that he had, he hit the ball. Oh, lucky is he. The crowd goes wild, the commentator announces the successful bat and the giant screen shows his face. Even if he batted successfully on the third, it didn’t reverse the disappointment you felt now that you can judge him. He then came running the bases.

You looked away and rested your chin against your palm with crossed legs, not paying attention to the game, but all of a sudden, your eyes caught something familiarly strange flying outside the dome. 

Is that…

You squinted to see clearly, and when you saw it again, your eyes widened. It vanished again for a while, but your sighting of KDF jets told you everything you needed to know to confirm what it was. You flinched in your seat when one of the KDF jets crashed and exploded near the dome, interrupting the game, also startling the people inside the dome who were now instinctively starting to evacuate the area. In the middle of the flames of the explosion, the creature emerged and showed itself clearly, just exactly as the one you suspected.

“Gigantron.” You and Ken mouthed at the same time, from different spots inside the dome.

The creature roars, frightening people even more. Everything was chaos, like that of a dystopia. People were pushing each other in the exits to get out of the dome as soon as possible. You stood up from your seat, picked your helmet up from the bottom bench, not turning your back on Gigantron, you pushed the door with your palm to the nearest exit. You pushed your way through the waves of people until you reached your motorcycle outside.

You revved the engine and sped up en route to the KDF headquarters. You need to get there before the last jet takes off.

—

In the dim-lit interior of the KDF Headquarters, Chief Officer Dr. Onda silently watches the monitor screen.

Aoshima, the KDF Captain hurriedly went to him after the difficult situation unfolded. “Sir, we have an emergency. Gigantron has ambushed our jets and taken it down. The package cannot be tracked, as of now.”

“Is Saturnine inside the headquarters right now?”

“Uh, Agent Saturnine is currently off-duty tonight, Sir.” Aoshima responded, wondering why out of everyone, he specifically asked about Saturnine.

Dr. Onda exhales and doesn't reply further. He maintained his stoned expression under his aviators. Once again, he focused on the monitor cameras showing the chaos the Gigantron made.

His forehead creases in distress. “Scramble all jets. Kill Gigantron. Do what you can to retrieve the package.” he orders his personnel.

“Yes, sir.”

***

© reesespeanutbutterfuck 2024, don forget to support your creators by reblogging !!!

incomp taglist (do comment if u wanna be added): @moonjellyfishie @aise-30 @lovingyeet @ririkacchi

[bbjobo]

Hello hi it’s me, your resident entertainment PR enthusiast. I simply need to talk about the sequel announcement. This is all speculation, but I work in entertainment-adjacent communications and once convinced a household name celebrity to stay at my event to do select press interviews when his wife was going to go into labor at literally any minute, so I like to think I've got a pretty good sense of all of this.

So buckle in, because I'm about how actually fantastic this rollout was, because I’d wager they’ve been planning this since the premiere. 

RWRB came out truly smack-dab in the middle of the actors' strike. We all know just how much press we must have missed out on, because the strike started before promo would have kicked off in earnest. And when it was finally over in November, the actors are potentially out of contract for promotion, and that’s not even taking into consideration that the holidays are coming up and the six weeks from American Thanksgiving to New Year’s is truly a black hole of press. So this little movie has to rely almost entirely on fan reaction and word of mouth to hit because they’re so limited in what they can do for promo. And it IS a hit! Records are broken! Comments for an extended version (which, ok Matthew we get it, does not exist) and a sequel start almost immediately.

The marketing team makes the most of what they’ve got: they’re keeping up the official character accounts, they’re dropping deleted scenes and BTS. We get cornettos! The fireside scene! Bloopers! Notably absent? Brownstone Thanksgiving. We’ve seen BTS photos of it, we know it exists. Thanksgiving 2023 would have been a great time to drop it, but they don’t. This is the approximate point at which my own personal sequel speculation began. After the strike ends, the posting pace slows considerably but it’s still consistent. It’s just enough to keep it in your mind but not enough to be like “why are you still posting this much about it?” And this continues into 2024.

On the contracting side, conversations were likely actively happening at this point. I wouldn’t be surprised if negotiations picked up literally as soon as the strike ended. The producers would have had that time to get Matthew and Casey back on board and be fully prepped and ready to move on to contracting actors the minute they could. It’d be a shot in the dark to try to guess when these were finalized, but at some point between November 9 and May 9, yeah, they’re in.

But whew, Nicholas is booked and BUSY. Mary & George drops internationally March 5, The Idea of You closes SXSW on March 17, two weeks later M&G starts airing in the US and Canada, and a month after that, TIOY is available for streaming (and limited theatrical release, which is another whole post), and in between all those premieres, he’s everywhere. He’s criss-crossing the country (and tbh the Atlantic Ocean) for all of these appearances, truly going non-stop. The pacing of the premieres makes it nearly impossible to squeeze in another project announcement, and if they had, it would have been a bigger part of every interview he did after, which is something his own team would be working to balance. Plus between TIOY and RWRB, Prime would have been pitching stories against themselves. Better to let him finish out his other promotional appearances and then switch over.

At the same time, we’ve got awards and red carpet season starting. At nearly every red carpet appearance not for their own projects, both Taylor and Nick are asked about a sequel. If an interviewer is given enough time, they ask about a sequel. Sure, fans comment about a sequel on every vaguely rwrb social post from an official account, but the press asking about a sequel felt like a lot to me. Everyone always gave the same vague answer, that they’d be up for it if the story is right, that they don’t know but would be happy to. (Except one time, Nick does slip up and give an answer that feels a little more definitive here where he says “conversations are being had” all the way back in late February/early March). Press are asking the question so consistently that it felt like if it wasn’t happening, PR teams would have put the sequel on the do not ask list.

Then Prime starts actually ramping up on a FYC campaign for the movie. I'm gonna be honest, I was so surprised. It's a rom com, the odds of a rom com getting any sort of awards recognition is so slim, but I thought, "ok, sure, use FYC as a way to get the promo boost they need for an announcement of whatever's coming next." And then I looked up and Variety has picked it as the winner in the best television movie category, which is blowing my mind. The other categories they're submitting in are stacked and I think a nomination beyond television movie will be a long shot, but again, it's big for it to even be considered. And if they're being talked about, that means Prime's gotta put out a great showing for their FYC campaign.

Which brings us to this week. We start off on Monday with Nick at the Met Gala referring to Uma as his mother-in-law. Incredible. Love it. Wednesday and Thursday are a one-two punch of a FYC event and fan event, and the gang’s all here. At the FYC, we get the industry side of things: new portraits and interviews with Deadline, process talk, etc. Because this little rom com is actually doing pretty well and beating the odds? Knowing what we know now, the PR teams spent this week pre-briefing the press on the sequel announcement. Notable (at least to my knowledge) the sequel question doesn't get asked at the FYC event. Because the press already knows it's coming.

Now, on to yesterday. They do a fan screening and Q&A, and they literally roll out the red carpet. Nine months after the premiere and exactly six months after the strike ended, they get the gang back together with fans of the movie, who they relied on so heavily during the strike to help make the movie a success. The tagline on the screen’s giant promo image has been updated to specifically thank fans for “making history with us.” The moderator for the Q&A is the same person who interviewed Taylor and Nick at the beginning of FYC campaign season, their first joint interview since GQ (right? pretty sure. it's all a blur tbh). And at the end of the Q&A, minutes before 12 AM ET, when the embargo on the press release would have lifted, they make the announcement not to press, but to the fans. The fans who loved the book, who watched it over and over, who spread the word about the movie to help make it one of Prime’s top three rom coms OF ALL TIME.

It’s just… an absolute masterclass in how to execute a major announcement that embraces the fans in a time where fandom and interaction between creators and fans can be an absolute minefield. Prime saw the opportunity to lean into the fannishness of it all and they took it and it was a slam dunk.

So where do we go from here? IDK but here’s some unconnected thoughts in list form like Alex would want.

The book’s 5th anniversary is next Wednesday, the 14th.

Casey’s been posting about working on [redacted] for months at this point, which is almost certainly the screenplay

Nick mentioned needing to be back in the UK for filming soon

They would probably like to release this in US election off-cycle years, so that means 2025 or 2027 (and 2027 is too far away). 2026 would be less bad since it’s a midterm election, but still.

Filming could reasonably start sooner rather than later, and even without an unfinished script

I guess we’re back on content watch for blond hair and BTS pictures

[nadvs]

　　🐚　⊹　❀　︵　∘　 breaking point ⟢

pairing rafe cameron x kook! female reader

summary withdrawal is worse than rafe ever could have imagined. thankfully, he has you.

content warning substance abuse

this is a blurb in the home before dark universe, inspired by this ask!

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

It’s been four nights without coke. Rafe keeps hoping it’ll get even just a shred easier, but it’s not.

You told him it’d be best to skip parties for the next while so he’s not tempted while he tries to quit. What he didn’t expect was that you’d be skipping them with him. He should have known, though, considering how much you care about him.

Moments like these, he’s not sure why you chose him.

He’s been curt all day, responding to you with short, sharp sentences. Still, you’ve stayed by his side, making sure he’s resting, pretending not to notice how much he’s shaking.

The moon is in the sky, signalling the end of a long day. It’s obvious your boyfriend doesn’t want to talk, so you step out onto the balcony that leads out of his bedroom as he sits in bed, scrolling on his phone.

You look out at the massive property under the night sky, hoping it’ll get easier for him soon.

According to the research you’ve done, it’s different for every addict. There’s no timeline to follow, no day you can look forward to things turning around for him. Some symptoms last months.

After a few minutes of silence, you hear sluggish footsteps padding behind you.

Rafe rubs his mouth, his ring gleaming in the moonlight, as he stands beside you at the railing.

“I’m an asshole,” he mutters. “Sorry.”

“A real asshole wouldn’t worry about being an asshole,” you reply. You look over at him, his face downturned in shame. “It’s hard. Feeling angry or irritable is expected.”

Rafe nods, gazing down.

“How do you know?” he asks.

“I read up on it,” you say. “You can’t control how your body is reacting. It’s okay.”

“It didn’t even feel good to do it anymore by the end,” he admits. “It just made me feel like… I don’t know, nervous. But I still want...”

Rafe can’t finish his sentence, disappointed in himself.

“You’re doing great,” you say, resting a hand on his trembling back. “It’s not easy.”

“I shoulda never fucking started,” he says with a scoff. You try to steer the conversation away from the past, so not to remind him why he so desperately chases an escape.

“Are you hungrier than usual?” you ask. Increased appetite was a symptom you read about.

“Yeah,” he says.

“Wanna go for a late night food run?” you ask. “Or you can stay here and I go make something or pick something up?”

Rafe stares at you through heavy lidded eyes, lips parted.

“What?” you ask.

“This might sound…” he says, unable to find the word. He takes a deep breath. “I think I’d die without you.”

Your eyes deepen with sorrow, compassion, and gratitude all at once.

“Remember everything you did for me?” you ask softly.

When Rafe’s eyes sweep over your face, he does. He wouldn’t leave your side when you were trying to escape your ex. He beat him within an inch of his life. He stared down the end of a gun, risking everything, ready to kill someone who was tormenting you.

He’d do it all again.

“You saved my life,” you say, tears pricking at your eyes. Even when it was so painful being around you, Rafe wouldn’t leave you. You still carry the trauma from what happened, but being with the man who protected you, even when he’s being abrupt, reminds you of how safe you are.

“This won’t beat you, okay?” you tell him. “I won’t let it.”

You curl into him, wrapping your arms around his torso, inhaling the smell of his cologne and his natural musk.

Rafe kisses the top of your head, hugging you tightly. You stand like this for a few minutes, and when you pull back, he kisses your lips, asking where you want to go to eat.

You gaze up at him with all the love in your heart, a hopeful smile growing on your face.

You don’t think anything you could do for him could even the score and make up for what he’s done for you.

He’s thinking the same thing about you.

After you eat together, you hold his trembling body in bed, kissing his forehead, hearing his breaths fall deeper once he falls asleep.

You tell yourself every bad night is one step closer to the first good night. You’ll weather this with him. All of it.

[onlinesuzie]

♡ looking after hamzah’s good boys pt.2 ♡

words: 2.8k

genre: fluff

summary: The idea of you as been playing on Hamzah’s mind and it appears that the connection between you two has become deeper than just you coming over for a few hours to look after his kittens.

note: GUYS I KNOW I SAID THIS WOULD BE MORE SMUTTY BUT LORD I COULDNT HELP MYSELF. a nervous and sweet hamzah was on the mind too hard. i will be definitely be writing another part to this soon!! thank you for the likes on my last part and i hope this second part lives up to the love!! also did not proof read lol >:D

☆

Hamzah had been on edge the entire day, distracted even during the filming session with Martin. His mind kept wandering back to his apartment, wondering how his kittens—and you—were managing. When filming wrapped up, he made his way home as quickly as possible, his heart pounding with a mix of anxiety and excitement.

As he approached his door, he paused for a moment, trying to steady his nerves before entering. He took a deep breath, inserted the key, and turned the lock. The door swung open, and he was greeted by the sight of you sitting on the couch, Red and Blue curled up contentedly in your lap. The room was bathed in the soft glow of the evening light, creating a warm and welcoming atmosphere.

"Hey," he said softly, closing the door behind him. The kittens perked up at the sound of his voice, but they seemed perfectly at ease with you.

"Hey," you replied, looking up with a smile. "Your boys have been absolute angels."

Hamzah couldn't help but smile back, his earlier tension melting away. He walked over and sat down next to you, his gaze shifting from the kittens to you. "Thank you so much for taking care of them. It means a lot to me."

"It was my pleasure," you said, your eyes meeting his. There was a moment of comfortable silence before you spoke again. "How was filming?"

"It was good, but I couldn’t stop thinking about how things were going here," he admitted, his voice softening. "I was worried, but seeing you with them... I feel so like relieved."

You reached out and gently placed a hand on his arm. "They’re great company, and it’s obvious how much you love them."

Hamzah looked down at your hand on his arm, then back up at you. "Thanks. By the way, about that coffee... When are you free?"

Your heart skipped a beat, but you kept your voice steady. "I’m free this weekend. How about Saturday morning?"

"Saturday morning sounds perfect," he replied, a genuine smile spreading across his face. "I really hope that place nearby is your thing because I feel you’ll love it."

"Great, I’m looking forward to it," you said, returning his smile.

He glanced around the room, taking in the peaceful scene. "I’ll make sure to bring something special for the boys as a thank you for behaving so well."

You chuckled. "I think they’ll appreciate that."

As the evening continued, you and Hamzah chatted about various things, the conversation flowing easily. The kittens snuggled up beside you, content in the presence of the two people they now adored.

After a while, Hamzah hesitated, then looked at you with a hopeful expression. "You know, if you don’t have any plans tonight, would you like to stay a little longer? It’d be nice to get to know each other better."

Your heart warmed at his invitation. "I’d like that," you replied.

He smiled, visibly relieved. "Great. How about I order some takeout? We can, um, relax and talk more.” he blurts “Plus, the boys would definitely love more of your company."

"That sounds perfect," you agreed.

Hamzah quickly grabbed his phone and started looking up nearby takeout options. "Any preferences?" he asked.

"I'm good with anything," you said, watching him with a smile.

As he placed the order, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of excitement. The evening had turned into something unexpectedly special. You and Hamzah spent the next few hours sharing stories, laughing, and discovering common interests. The atmosphere was warm and relaxed, and the kittens seemed delighted by the extended company. By the time the food arrived, you felt like you had known Hamzah much longer than just a day. The conversation flowed effortlessly, and you found yourself looking forward to the coffee date even more.

As the night drew to a close, you realized it was time to leave. The evening had been unexpectedly wonderful, filled with laughter and a deepening connection that you hadn't anticipated, but were pleased about. The kittens, now comfortably asleep, were nestled in their favorite spots, oblivious to the passing of time.

Hamzah walked you to the door, a contented smile playing on his lips. "Thank you again for taking care of them and for staying longer. I had a great time."

"Me too," you replied, your heart feeling light and full. "I'm really glad we got to know each other better."

He hesitated for a moment, then gently took your hand in his, his touch warm and reassuring. "I'm looking forward to our coffee date on Saturday."

"Me too," you said softly, meeting his gaze. There was something in the way he looked at you that made your heart race—an unspoken promise of more moments like this.

"Drive safe," he said, his voice tender. "And if you need anything, don’t hesitate to text or call."

"I will," you replied, giving his hand a gentle squeeze before letting go.

As you turned to leave, Hamzah called your name. You looked back, finding him standing there with a thoughtful expression. "I'm really glad Mandy introduced us," he said, his voice carrying a depth of sincerity that made your heart flutter.

"Me too, Hamzah," you responded, a smile spreading across your face.

With one last shared look, you stepped out into the cool night air. As you walked to your car, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of anticipation for the coffee date and what it might bring. Just before you reached your car, you turned back to see Hamzah still standing at the door, watching you with a smile.

"Goodnight," you called out, feeling a warm connection despite the distance.

"Goodnight," he replied, his voice carrying softly through the night.

As you drove away, you replayed the evening's moments in your mind, feeling the warmth of Hamzah's hand in yours and the sincerity in his words.

The next day at the cat rescue, you found yourself thinking about Hamzah and his kittens often. The rescue was bustling as usual, with volunteers and visitors interacting with the many cats seeking homes. As you went about your duties, you couldn’t help but notice a few cats that reminded you of Red and Blue.

During a quiet moment, you decided to send Hamzah a message. You pulled out your phone and snapped a few photos of the cats that caught your eye. One was a ginger tabby with a playful expression, much like Red, and the other was a smaller, energetic kitten with striking eyes, reminiscent of Blue. You smiled as you composed your message.

You: "Hey Hamzah, hope your day is going well! I’m at the rescue and couldn’t help but think of your boys. Check out these little ones—they remind me so much of Red and Blue!"

You: [attached photos]

A few minutes later, your phone buzzed with a response.

Hamzah: "Hey! Wow, they really do look like my boys. That ginger one has the same mischievous look as Red."

Hamzah: “How are things going there today?"

You smiled at his quick reply and typed back.

You: "It’s busy, but good. Seeing these cats always brightens my day. Your boys were great practice for today’s energy!"

You: "I can’t wait for Saturday. Any special plans for our coffee date?"

A pause, then another buzz.

Hamzah: “I’m glad to hear that! And I can’t tell you that! By the way, thanks again for yesterday. I felt so much more at ease knowing my kittens were in good hands."

You felt a warm glow reading his message. It was nice to know he appreciated your help and was looking forward to spending more time together.

You: “Sounds perfect. I’m looking forward to it too. And it was my pleasure—your boys made it easy!"

You slipped your phone back into your pocket, feeling a renewed sense of excitement. As you continued your work at the rescue, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of anticipation for your upcoming date with Hamzah. It was shaping up to be a week full of promising moments with Hamzah.

Saturday morning arrived with a mix of nerves and excitement. You got ready for your coffee date with Hamzah, your thoughts drifting back to the pleasant evening you had spent at his place earlier in the week. As you approached his apartment building, you felt a flutter of nerves.

Hamzah greeted you at the door with a warm smile. "Hey! Ready for our coffee date?"

"Absolutely," you replied, feeling your heart race slightly. "But before we go, can I say hi to the kittens?"

He chuckled and opened the door wider, motioning for you to come in. "Of course. I had a feeling you'd want to see them."

You stepped inside, immediately spotting Red and Blue lounging in their usual spots. They perked up at the sight of you and scampered over, nuzzling against your legs. You crouched down to pet them, smiling at their enthusiastic greeting.

"They really missed you," Hamzah said, leaning against the doorframe. "I'm starting to think you only want to see me for my cats."

You laughed, shaking your head. "They are a big plus, but... I wanted to see you too."

The words slipped out before you could catch them. Hamzah's eyes widened slightly, a faint blush creeping up his cheeks. "Oh, um, really?"

You stood up, feeling your own cheeks warm. "Yeah, I mean, I had a great time the other night, and I was looking forward to today."

He rubbed the back of his neck, clearly flustered. "That's, uh, that's good to hear. I was looking forward to today too."

There was a moment of awkward silence before he cleared his throat. "Anyway, we should probably get going. The coffee place gets busy on weekends."

"Right, let's go," you said, feeling a bit relieved to shift the focus. As you both headed out the door, Hamzah glanced back at his kittens.

"You two behave while we’re gone, okay?" he said, his voice softening.

Red and Blue meowed in response, almost as if they understood. You both laughed, and the tension from the earlier moment seemed to ease.

The walk to the coffee shop was pleasant, filled with light conversation and the comfortable silence of two people getting to know each other. When you arrived, the cozy atmosphere of the café put you at ease. You found a quiet corner table, and Hamzah ordered your drinks.

As you sipped your coffee, the conversation flowed naturally. You talked about your work at the cat rescue, his YouTube channel, and shared stories from your pasts. The initial nervousness faded, replaced by a genuine connection that seemed to grow stronger with every word.

After a while, Hamzah looked at you, his eyes warm and sincere. "I’m really glad we did this. It’s nice getting to know you outside of kitten duties."

You smiled, feeling a sense of contentment. "I’m glad too. This has been really nice."

The rest of the date flew by, and before you knew it, you were walking back to his apartment. When you reached his door, he hesitated for a moment before speaking.

"Would you like to come in for a bit?’ he blurted out, before quickly interrupting himself, “The kittens- would love more of your company."

You nodded, feeling a happy feeling in your chest. "I’d love to."

Back inside, you spent some more time with the kittens, but your attention often drifted back to Hamzah. It was clear that this was the start of something special, and you couldn’t wait to see where it would lead.

Back at Hamzah's place, the atmosphere felt warm and relaxed. You both kicked off your shoes, and Hamzah led you to the living room where the kittens were already making themselves comfortable.

"Want to watch a movie?" he asked, picking up the remote.

"Sure," you replied, settling into the couch. "What do you have in mind?"

"I’ve got a few options," he said, scrolling through a list of films. "How about something light? Maybe a comedy?"

"That sounds perfect," you agreed.

He selected a movie, and soon the opening credits were rolling. Red and Blue jumped up onto the couch, each finding a spot next to you. As the movie played, you laughed together at the funny scenes and exchanged comments about the plot and characters.

As time passed, the room grew darker with the setting sun, and the soft glow of the TV became the main source of light. You hadn’t realized how close you’d been sitting until you felt Hamzah’s arm brush against yours. Neither of you moved away, and gradually, you found yourselves leaning into each other, the proximity feeling natural and comforting.

At one particularly funny scene, you both burst out laughing. In the shared moment of mirth, you leaned into him a bit more, and without thinking, you nestled your head on his shoulder. Hamzah tensed for a moment, but then he relaxed, his arm coming up to rest gently around your shoulders.

You glanced up at him, feeling slightly embarrassed. "Sorry, I didn’t mean to—"

"No, it’s okay," he interrupted softly, a small smile playing on his lips. "I’m comfortable if you are."

You nodded, returning the smile. "I am."

With that unspoken agreement, you both settled back into the movie, the earlier awkwardness replaced by a growing sense of closeness. The kittens seemed to sense the change too, snuggling up closer as if they approved of the new arrangement.

As the film continued, you found it harder to concentrate on the screen. Your thoughts kept drifting to how warm and reassuring Hamzah felt beside you. You could hear his steady breathing, and it brought you a sense of peace.

By the time the movie ended, it was quite late. The credits rolled, and neither of you made a move to get up. Instead, you stayed there, comfortably leaning against each other, savoring the moment.

"I guess it’s late," Hamzah finally said, his voice a low murmur.

"Yeah," you replied, not really wanting to move.

He glanced down at you, his eyes soft. "Thank you for today. I really enjoyed it."

"Me too," you said, your voice equally soft.

For a few more minutes, you both lingered there, the silence filled with the unspoken connection between you. Eventually, you knew it was time to leave, but the promise of more moments like this made parting a bit easier. He walked you over to the door slowly, as if savouring the time spent with you.

As you stood at the door, preparing to leave, the warmth of the evening and the close moments you had shared lingered in the air. Hamzah hesitated, his eyes searching yours as if contemplating something.

"Hey," he said softly, drawing your attention back to him. "Before you go…"

You felt your heart beating a little faster. "Yeah?"

He took a small step closer, his expression earnest and a bit vulnerable. "I know this might be sudden, but, um, would it be alright if I kissed you?"

Surprise flashed across your face, but it was quickly replaced by a rush of warmth and excitement. You could see the sincerity in his eyes, and it made your heart swell.

"Yes," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.

Hamzah's smile widened, relief evident in his expression. He stepped even closer, and the world around you seemed to fade away as he leaned in. Your heart raced as his lips brushed against yours, soft and tentative at first, testing the waters.

The kiss deepened, a gentle exploration filled with the sweetness of the moment. You felt a surge of warmth as you melted into him, the tension of the evening dissolving into something beautiful. Time seemed to stand still as you lost yourself in the kiss, feeling a perfect connection that transcended words.

When you finally pulled away, both of you lingered close, breaths mingling in the small space between you. Hamzah looked at you, his eyes bright with happiness. "Wow," he said, a playful smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "That was..."

"So lovely," you replied, still feeling the warmth of the moment lingering on your lips.

"I’m really glad I asked," he continued, his voice softening. "I didn’t want to rush anything, but I couldn’t help myself."

You smiled, feeling a sense of excitement building within you. "I’m glad you did."

After a moment, you knew it was time to go. You stepped back, giving him a lingering look. "Drive safe, and text me when you get home?"

"I will," he promised, his eyes still holding yours with a mix of affection and tension leaving his body. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Hamzah," you said, your heart fluttering as you turned to head to your car.

As you drove away, you couldn’t help but replay the kiss in your mind, the warmth of it wrapping around you like a cozy blanket. The evening had been everything you had hoped for and more, and the promise of what was to come filled you with a sense of comfort. You looked forward to the next time you would see Hamzah, hoping your next kiss would be as special as that one.

[justagalwhowrites]

Yearling - Ch. 40: Home

Jackson holds a celebration. The final chapter of Yearling found on Tumblr in its entirety here.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

Warnings: Smut :) No use of Y/N. Minors DNI 18+ Only 

Length: 7.7k

A/N: We are through the spoiler-y portion now and you're all OK to read from here if you just want to see how the fic starts to come to a close. There is no more overlap with TLOU 2.

AO3 | Chapter One | Previous Chapter

December, 2002 

“Is that pot?” 

Your oldest brother, Brendan, damn near jumped out of his skin, looking around frantically for a moment before his eyes settled on you and he calmed, his hand going to his chest. 

“Shit, bug,” he said. “Yell it, why don’t you.” 

“If I yell it, Mom’ll take it away,” you said, joining him at the fence on the edge of your father’s property, climbing up and perching next to him in the moonlight. “But that means I need motivation to keep my big mouth shut so you’d better fuckin’ share.” 

He scoffed but passed you the joint, anyway. You took it and breathed deep, pulling the smoke into your lungs and holding it there until the urge to cough was too strong and you gave into it, handing the joint back to your brother, clouding the winter air with a pot-scented haze. 

“Jesus, getting high with my baby sister,” he chuckled. “Never thought I’d see the day.” 

“It’s because you’re getting old,” you teased lightly. He smiled and shook his head, taking a hit before passing it back to you. You took a hit, too, a smaller one this time, trying to make smoke rings as you breathed it out. “So. How’ve you been?” 

“Good,” he nodded slowly, taking the joint back. “Thinkin’ about starting up my own ranch…” 

“No shit?” You asked, brows raised. He nodded. “Good for you. Think you’d be good at it. I do gotta ask though… This have anything to do with Amanda?” 

You teased out the last word and he laughed. 

“Was waitin’ for that,” he said. “Talked to Mom have you?” 

“Here and there,” you said. “You really ask for Gran’s ring?” 

“Jesus…” 

“C’mon,” you elbowed him. “You’re thinkin’ of marrying her?” 

“More than thinkin’,” he smiled a little. “If I’m marrying anyone, it’s her.” 

He took another hit and passed the joint back to you and you nodded, mulling that over in your head. Your brother, settled down enough to get married and start a ranch of his own. It seemed like a completely foreign concept but it was one you liked. 

“You’d like her,” he said after a few minutes. “Amanda, I mean. She might come to New Year’s, think you two would get on like a house on fire. She’s studying to be a vet, specializing in large animals. Only person I know who likes horses as much as you.” 

“Damn,” you said, taking a hit yourself. “She does sound great. Too good for you, that’s for damn sure…” 

He snorted. 

“Don’t I know it.” 

You passed him the joint again. 

“Can I ask you something?” You said after sitting in silence for a minute. 

“Shoot.” 

“How do you know?” You asked. 

He frowned. 

“Know what?” 

“Know that…” you sighed. “I don’t know, know that she’s the one? That you want to marry her and all that shit?” 

He smiled a little, nodding knowingly as he did. 

“Well,” he said. “Sounds dumb, but… when you know, you know.” 

“Jesus,” you rolled your eyes and he laughed. 

“I’m serious,” he said. “You’ll know. But… Well, she’s my favorite damn person. I don’t want to do anything without her if I can help it. I love everything about her, even the shit that drives me nuts. Mostly, though, I just want to live life with her, you know? Want to go grocery shopping and do dishes and fuckin’ mow the lawn… all that shit. It all sounds great because it’d be with her. That’s how you know.” 

You nodded slowly, trying to imagine feeling that way about anybody. It didn’t really seem possible.

“Don’t sweat it too much, bug,” he said, clapping you on the shoulder. “You got plenty of time before you need to worry about that shit. No need to rush into it. Just wait until the time is right and you’ve found the right person and then you’re good. It’ll all work out in the end.” 

He was right, you thought as you nodded again. You had all the time in the world but, eventually, you’d find someone you’d want to share it with. Even if that sounded insane now, you thought you would. You looked up at the cold, December sky, the universe stretched out before you and you took a deep satisfying breath. 

“Yeah,” you said. “I think it will.” 

***

July 20, 2029 

“Joel, where the hell is your wife?” 

Tommy and Joel both looked at each other before looking to Maria, confused. 

“Don’t think it was my turn to watch ‘er,” Joel said, setting his whiskey down. “Actually, think it was the exact opposite of my turn to watch her what with tradition and all…” 

“Well maybe it should have been because I can’t find her,” Maria said, clearly flustered. “I’ve checked your place, her old place, the room she was supposed to be getting ready in…” 

Joel smiled a little to himself, shaking his head and getting up from the table. There was one obvious place Maria hadn’t checked. 

“Maybe she’s gettin’ cold feet,” Tommy teased, smirking. “Lord knows she’s too smart for you, anyhow. Maybe she figured it out…” 

“Yeah, yeah,” Joel said, adjusting the collar on his shirt. He was in too good a mood to even give his brother shit back. “Don’t think it works that way if you’ve already been married a year and a half. Besides, I think I know where to find her…” 

“Just tell me,” Maria groaned, half-heartedly trying to stop him. “I’ll go. It’s bad luck for you to do it.” 

“Think we already had more than our share of that,” he said, giving her a wink. “Think we’ll be OK.” 

He left his brother’s kitchen and started toward the stables, walking in the opposite direction of most of the town, everyone making their way toward the gathering place in the middle. They gave him warm smiles and nods and congratulations as he passed and he smiled back, a little bubble of warmth in his chest that swelled as he made his way to you. Because while Maria might not know where you were, he sure did. 

He heard you before he saw you. 

“You’re doing good,” you said. “Try not to let your fingers get ahead of where your mind is though, that’s where you’re stutterin’ a bit…” 

“Easy for you to say,” Joel almost heard Savvy’s eyes roll as she teased you. “You don’t have as many fingers to keep track of.” 

You barked a laugh at that as Joel came into the stable. You were perched on the wall of Perseus’ stall, Savvy and Ellie sitting on either side of you, the guitar he’d made for Savvy in her arms. She noticed him before you did, giving him a little smile. 

“Here,” she said, passing the guitar to you. “You should play something Dad likes since you’re getting married today and all.”

“Look at you, bein’ all sentimental,” you teased lightly back. But you took the guitar and drummed on it for a moment before settling on a song. “Alright, this is the first thing he ever played me. His version is better but this song always makes me think of him now.” 

Joel just leaned against the door, watching and listening as you played I’m On Fire, that warm glow in his chest somehow growing as you did, wondering if you could possibly be any more perfect. You were wrong about one thing, though. Your version was better.

It had taken you a while to pick up the guitar again. You’d been back more than two months when he came home from a short patrol to find you on the couch, the guitar he made you in your arms and a determined - if frustrated - look on your face. You glanced up at him when he came in before looking back at the instrument. 

“I’m tryin’ real hard not to throw this,” you said, arranging your intact hand on the neck of the guitar. “But it’s pissing me off.” 

“Think I’d rather you throw the pillow,” Joel said wryly, coming to sit beside you. You rolled your eyes. “Want to show me?” 

“Not really,” you said but you did anyway, starting to play the way you had for years and then seeming to forget that you had two fewer fingers, notes missing and fumbled and you shouted in frustration, almost throwing the guitar before clenching your jaw and moving to set it on the coffee table. Joel took it from you before you could, setting it on the other side of the couch before pulling you against him and kissing the top of your head. 

“You were sounding good there, baby,” he said, stroking your arm. You scoffed. “Mean it, you were.” 

“Yeah, I was playin’ a mess of bullshit there at the end,” you said. “Real good.” 

“It’s gonna take time, sweetheart,” he said gently. “You spent a long time playing the way you used to. Takes a while to adjust. You’ll get there…” 

“Because there are so many famous eight-fingered guitarists,” you muttered, your voice thick. 

“Sure, but you’re better than every guitarist I’ve ever heard of,” he said, tugging you closer. “You will get there, baby. If anyone can it’s you.” 

You sighed but snuggled into him and he hoped that you believed him. He wasn’t just saying it. Something inside him knew that you’d find a way to make music again the way you used to. 

He was right. It took a few weeks - a few weeks of almost perpetual frustration - but you got there. He watched it happen, the moment it seemed to click into place almost startling in its clarity. You were playing in the kitchen while he cooked, not really working on anything in particular, just seeing what sounds you could pull from your instrument and how you could make them work together in that way you had when, all of a sudden, you played a few notes in quick succession. Joel frowned to himself and glanced over his shoulder, hoping you weren’t paying attention to him. You weren’t. You were intently focused on the guitar, your hands frozen on it for a moment before you did it again, adding more chords this time. The next thing he knew, you were playing the riff from Layla, laughing as you did. 

“Joel!” You looked over to him after playing it a few times and he’d stopped pretending he wasn’t watching you, just leaning against the counter so you had the space to do what you needed to do. “Did you hear that?” 

“Yeah baby,” he smiled. “Sure did.” 

You made a giddy little noise and carefully arranged the guitar in your arms again before starting over. He had to practically pry the instrument away from you when dinner was done but you were beaming when he did, even though the place where you’d lost fingers was bleeding from the guitar strings. 

Joel made you something after that, a simple piece of leather that covered that sensitive place and looped down around your wrist. It seemed to work wonders for you, making it easier to play guitar and work with the horses and he let himself feel good about it. He’d done something for you that made your life here better. He could still take care of you, still give you what you needed. They hadn’t taken that, too. 

It still took a while for things to get back to normal. Or close to normal, anyway. After everything that had happened over the last two years, Joel didn’t think there was any real way to go back. You still woke up afraid some nights, his leg still bothered him more often than not. But there were good changes, too. Savvy had moved into the bedroom you’d set up for her, happy to have her mother to come home to again. Ellie came around all the time, often with her girlfriend in tow - something that had taken Joel by surprise but had settled into quickly. You’d even become more involved in Jackson, joining the council in the most recent election after Maria encouraged you to run. When the results had come in you sat there, wide eyed, for a moment before you got up and smiled and thanked people for voting for you. It was the shortest acceptance speech Jackson ever had. 

While he wouldn’t want to go back and relive the worst of those times, he was starting to think the heartache was there for a reason. It was to get you both here, to this place, building your family and community together. 

You finished the song and Ellie and Savvy clapped and you scoffed. 

“Sounded real good there, baby,” Joel said from his place by the door. You didn’t jump at the sound of his voice, instead just looking over your shoulder back to him. “Tryin’ to show me up?” 

“Nah,” you smiled, handing the guitar to Ellie and jumping down from your perch. “Never could with I’m On Fire. Other shit, though…” 

He laughed and shook his head a little as you walked over to him, a blissful smile on your face, and he gave himself a chance to really appreciate you in that moment. 

Joel always thought you were beautiful. You were beautiful when he’d first seen you in the forest years ago now, you were beautiful when you fell asleep against him when watching movies, you were beautiful when you came home covered in sweat and dirt and the smell of horse. But damn, were you ever beautiful here, like this. You were in a white eyelet lace dress that went down to your ankles, dropping low enough at the neck that the swell of your breasts were going to be a constant fucking temptation. Savvy had made you a crown of flowers that sat on your head and Joel’s old wedding band hung on a chain around your neck and your cowboy boots had been polished to shining and damn did he want to sweep you off your feet and carry you back home to hide you away from everyone else looking that good. 

“Anyone ever tell you you’re the most beautiful woman on the damn planet?” He asked as you draped your arms around his neck and his hands found your waist. 

“You,” you smiled, your eyes crinkling at the edges with it. “From time to time.” 

“Should say it more then,” he smiled back. “Been slacking.” 

“You’re not supposed to see her, you know,” Ellie said, trying to sound stern but smiling a little instead. “Maria told me.” 

“Well someone decided to sneak away without tellin’ anyone where she was headed,” Joel teased lightly. 

You just smiled broader. 

“The important people knew where to find me,” you said. 

Joel looked between you and the daughters you shared. 

“Yeah,” he said. “Suppose we did.”

He took your hand and the four of you headed for the middle of town, Joel kissing you goodbye in a spot that was a little tucked away so not everyone would catch a glimpse of you. 

“You’re too damn pretty,” he smiled. “Don’t want to spoil it for everyone. See you up there?” 

You smiled back. 

“Try and stop me.” 

Joel wasn’t sure he’d ever felt quite so happy as when he watched you walk down the aisle toward him. The two of you said more traditional vows this time, Savvy and Maria by your side, Ellie and Tommy by his. There was something about making promises to you publicly, where everyone the two of you knew could see, that just felt right. You exchanged new rings this time, ones made of the antler of a moose Joel had felled a few months earlier, him slipping yours on your middle finger this time. When he kissed you, the rest of the town fell away and it was just you and him, the way it felt like it should be.

The whole town celebrated after, tables put out on the grass and lights hanging from the trees. Someone had rigged up a sound system and the children of Jackson chased each other, weaving in and out of tables shrieking and giggling as they went. You and Joel were sat at a head table with the girls, Tommy, Maria and William and Joel kept his hand on your knee all through dinner. 

To kick off the dancing, Joel tugged you onto the floor, your chin tucked into your chest, and swayed slowly to Hallelujah, so like you had the first time he danced with you, before everything had fallen into place this way. You smiled and pressed close to him, moving alongside him in front of everyone the two of you knew in the world and Joel was happy. 

Back at your table, he was just starting to think of a way to steal you back to the house when Ellie gave you a look, jerking her head off to the side. You gave his shoulder a squeeze and smiled, a little nervously. 

“See you in a second,” you said, before following Ellie, who was whispering conspiratorially with you. 

“What in the hell…” Joel frowned, watching you. 

“Just have to wait and see, Dad,” Savvy said, looking far too pleased with herself. 

He didn’t have to wait long. You and Ellie returned with your guitar and a boom box, Tommy setting up a chair for you in the middle of everything so everyone could see you before cutting the music. 

“Hey, everyone!” Tommy yelled, his hands cupped around his mouth like a megaphone. “Pay attention to my baby sister!” 

The whole of Jackson obeyed and Joel could tell that you were fighting the urge to just go and be next to him, far from the public eye. Instead, you stood next to Tommy, the guitar Joel made you dangling from your hand, Ellie standing nearby next to the boom box. 

“Thanks, everyone, for comin’ tonight,” you said, your accent thick like it was when you got nervous. Joel smiled a little, the sound of home coming from your lips. “Means a lot to us that you’re here and sharing this with us. It means a lot to me, especially. I know it took me some time to settle in here because I ain’t had somewhere to call home with anyone other than my daughter for a real long time. But here feels like home, and the way everyone here has welcomed us… it means everything to me. 

“Now, a lot of y’all may not know it but…” you took a deep breath and Joel could see you try to swallow your nerves. “I’m something of a musician. I don’t much like playing for anyone besides family but since I feel like y’all are family now, well… seemed only appropriate I play for everyone here tonight.” 

You sat down and rested the guitar on your lap. 

“Music’s always been the way I get my feelings out,” you said, now focused on Joel. His heart swelled. “I’ve never been great with words and I love you just doesn’t feel like enough when it comes to you, Joel. This ain’t much but… feels closer at least.” 

You gave Ellie a nod and she pressed play on the boom box and Joel had to fight to not tear up as you played, the song growing and swelling as it went on, the boom box adding in piano and violin. The music was beautiful and intimate and made Joel think of the quiet mornings he spent with you in his arms, trailing his fingers over your the curve of you, your breath warm on his skin, gently kissing his way over you before the world woke up and it was just you and him and the love you made together. He loved those mornings with you, he wanted countless more of them and he could practically see them now, laid out in front of him like the world at his feet.  

When the song ended, the whole of Jackson was silent, the only sound the rustle of the breeze on the trees. You tugged your lower lip between your teeth and, for half a second, looked like you wanted the ground to swallow you up. But then, all at once, everyone broke into applause, thunderous and adoring and you gave Joel a bashful look. Ellie took the boom box and your guitar to stash them away again as you made your way back to him, what seemed like everyone in town on their feet for you as you went. 

“Hope that wasn’t too embarrassing,” you said as Joel pulled you in close. 

“Baby, that was incredible,” he said, giving you a long, deep kiss. “I didn’t even know you’d been workin’ on the piano and the violin again!” 

“I know,” you smiled a little, pressing close and tight to him. “You’re a hard man to surprise. But once I figured out the guitar, I wanted to get those back, too. Tommy even helped me tune the piano at my old place.” 

Joel looked to his brother who gave him a small salute before he turned back to you. 

“You’re amazing,” he said, resisting the urge to take off with you then and there. You just rolled your eyes before he kissed you again and he tried to be content with just having his arm around you as everyone in town made their way up to congratulate the two of you. 

After what felt like a small eternity - and a few more dances with you - Tommy finally leaned over to whisper in Joel’s ear. 

“I’ll hold down the fort and make sure the girls are all good,” he said. “Get outta here before you lose your damn mind.” 

“Thanks, man,” Joel clapped him on the shoulder and Tommy just gave him a lopsided smile, one that Joel would would call paternal if it came from anyone else. He supposed it did from Tommy, too, now. It was still an odd thought, his brother finding his way to a wife and a place in the world before Joel had, that Joel was the one playing catch up and, in some ways, relying on his brother for help and guidance. But with you, it felt like he’d more than caught up. He’d come out ahead. 

“Hey,” Joel gave you a little squeeze and whispered in your ear. “What do you say we get outta here, Mrs. Miller?” 

“Really?” Your face lit up and Joel smiled and nodded. “Oh thank fuck, I don’t think I can talk to anyone who isn’t you or the girls again for a week…” 

He laughed a little, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. 

“C’mon,” he said. “Let’s sneak out…” 

Joel took your elbow as you got up, the dance floor full as Tommy got to his feet, cupping his hands around his mouth like a megaphone again. 

“Ladies and gentleman!” He yelled. “For the last time tonight, Mr. and Mrs. Miller!”

Joel gave him a look and Tommy gave him a wink as everyone turned and clapped. You and Joel waved goodbye before he put his arm around your waist and pulled you tight against his side, leading you home. 

*** 

“Mrs. Miller,” Joel trailed his nose over your cheek, his words quiet in your ear. 

“Hm,” you grunted in response, eyes still closed. 

“C’mon,” he said softly, his hand smoothing over your stomach that was still covered by your wedding dress. “Gotta get up, we got places to be.” 

You opened a skeptical eye at that. The ceiling of your bedroom was painted orange by the sunrise and Joel was there, smiling down at you, his curls still a little unruly from where your fingers had wound in them the night before. 

“Where do we have to be?” You asked. “Pretty sure we get the day after our wedding off.”

“We do,” he said, his hand gliding over you, between your breasts in the low cut of your gown, over your chest to cup your cheek. “But still want to get an early start. Made you coffee, let’s go.” 

“Early start for what?” You asked, sitting up now. 

“Don’t worry about it,” he smiled. “You’ll like it, promise. Think you can ride a horse in that pretty dress of yours?” 

You gave him an incredulous look. 

He laughed. 

“Fair enough. Then let’s get goin’.” 

“Do I need to pack a bag or anything?” You asked, trying not to groan as you got out of bed. 

“Already handled,” he said. “All I need is my beautiful wife to come along for the ride.” 

You smiled a little. 

“Think I can manage that.” 

You had coffee and slices of leftover wedding cake with Joel before walking with him, hand in hand, to the stables, the sound of Jackson just coming to life around you as you went. 

It felt a little silly to still be in your wedding dress but, you had to admit, it was a damn nice dress.

Staying in it the night before had been Joel’s idea. His lips had been working their way over your throat to your ear before he whispered to you there. 

“That dress of yours comfortable?” He asked, a little breathless. 

“Yeah,” you panted, pulling back just enough to frown at him. “Why?” 

“Because,” he said, taking a moment to nip at your lower lip. “Did things backwards our first wedding night, already had you naked when we said our vows. Kinda want to have you in the white dress, make a real pretty mess of you in it.” 

You smiled, reaching up and trailing your fingers through his hair. 

“Whatever you want, Mr. Miller.” 

He made you come four times in that dress the night before and you passed out in his arms before you could will yourself to move enough to take it off, too tired from the day of celebrations to bother changing once he was done with you. 

It had been Joel’s idea to have a wedding ceremony. He’d brought it up a few months before, once you’d fallen back into life in town again, things as normal as they could be now. You still sometimes felt the ache of fingers that were no longer yours, you still sometimes woke up afraid that your daughters were gone, but you’d healed, too. Your skin was no longer broken and raw, you could play the music you loved again, you could go down the hall and look in on Savvy when you woke up afraid she was gone. 

“We’re already married, Joel,” you laughed at him, your feet on his lap as you played guitar one night when Savvy was out with Kyle. Orion snuggled closer to your knee. “You forget that just because we don’t wear the rings anymore?” 

“Never forget that,” he smiled a crooked smile at you as he massaged the arch of your foot. “One of the best damn nights of my life. But… I think now’s a good time to celebrate that with our family. Girls weren’t there for it, neither was Tommy. Think it’d be nice to do it again with them.” 

You nodded slowly, mulling it over. It wasn’t a bad thought. You did want to share that with Savvy and Ellie, especially now that Savvy would actually be happy about it. And you knew that Joel had missed Tommy and Maria’s wedding, something he regretted now that he had a proper life here in Jackson. You understood why he’d want his brother there. You’d want your brothers there, too, if they were still alive. 

“Sure,” you said eventually. “Let’s do it. Have witnesses when you make promises to me this time around, really hold you to that shit…” 

He laughed at that. 

“Damn right, baby,” he said. “You can hold me to whatever you want.” 

Plans quickly grew, though, from just your family to family and friends to the whole of Jackson. Warren manipulated patrol schedules so there would be one afternoon that everyone was in town, damn near every chair and table that could be moved set up for the reception. It had become more than a celebration of you and Joel, changing into something celebrating the peace the city had known in the year since Mitchum’s downfall. 

The raider attacks became almost non-existent, patrols hunting down the smaller side groups and wiping them out quickly once Mitchum’s control fell away. After that, even the threat from infected lessened. With fewer people in the forests in the miles around Jackson, there was less reason for them to be there. Patrols had become quiet and mostly peaceful, the town no longer afraid of what they might lose every time the gates to the city opened. 

You were happy for the excuse for the focus to not be entirely on you all night, anyway. You’d never been comfortable being the center of attention and, while you liked having a chance to actually show how much your husband meant to you after years together, having that many eyes on you got old fast. Going home just you and Joel had been a relief. 

“Hey there love birds,” Olivia said when you got to the stable, two sets of reins in her hands. “Ready to get underway?” 

“Think so,” Joel said, taking the reins from her, Renaissance and Ares both packed like they were leaving for a long patrol. “Thanks for doin’ this.” 

“Hey, anything to get her to take a break,” she gave you a wink. “Lord knows she deserves it. Have fun you two.” 

“Joel,” you laughed, almost nervously, following alongside him as he led the horses to the gate. “Where are we going? What’s going on?” 

“You’ll see,” he smiled a little as you reached the gates, handing you Renaissance’s reins. “Just have to keep up.” 

You raised your brows at him and he laughed. 

“Alright, just have to let me lead for a change, how about that?” 

“That, I can do,” you smiled. 

It was an easy ride, you following where Joel led, smiling and laughing and breathing in the fresh, clean scent of the forest as you did. For a while, you so rarely left Jackson after Mitchum. No matter what Joel and Tommy and Maria and Julie said, it didn’t feel safe. The worst things that had ever happened to you had happened outside those walls, it just wasn’t worth the risk to leave. If you were inside, in the house you shared with Joel and Savvy or at the stables or the Tipsy Bison, everything would be OK. 

But you missed the outside, too. You missed how crisp the air was when you were outside, the sound of the animals in the wild, the way the world spread out in front of you vast and unclaimed. 

Joel, Ellie and Julie had been easing you back into it. Julie asked you for help collecting fruit for one of her cocktail plans one day. You’d been hesitant but she convinced you, your whole body stiff the entire two hours you were outside, hyperaware of everything around you. But because you were so aware, you noticed everything too, things you’d missed like the rustle of the grass and the way the air smelled. You were a little more willing to go then. 

Ellie told you she wanted to practice shooting as she got ready to go back out on patrol, taking some time off from it after everything that happened. She asked you when Joel was busy and Olivia was there to take over at the stables and you knew it was contrived but you went with her, anyway. She kept you talking, pointing out different birds and asking questions about things that you knew she knew the answer to but it did make you miss being out in the wild more. When you told her you knew better, Ellie kept pretending she had no idea what you were talking about. 

Joel, at least, hadn’t tried to couch it in anything. He’d been holding you one morning when neither of you had to be anywhere, his fingers trailing gently up and down your arm. 

“Been thinkin’,” he said quietly before pressing his lips to your forehead. “We should take the horses out, go on a short trail ride.” 

You frowned. 

“Why? They’ve been gettin’ plenty of exercise, don’t have any that need to be tested outside of town right now…” 

“Because you could use it,” he said. You stiffened but he kept tracing his fingers over you, up and down.

“Joel…” 

“You’ve been gettin’ out here and there,” he said gently. “And I know you miss it.” 

“I miss how it used to be,” you corrected him. “It’s different now.” 

“Don’t have to be,” he said. “Just come with me.” 

You sighed, but he kept going. 

“Just a few hours, not gonna take you far,” he said. “I’ll keep you safe.” 

You pressed your lips together into a thin line, trying to calm your nerves as he pulled back to look at you, his eyes locked on yours. 

“Would I try to get you to do somethin’ that wasn’t safe?” He asked gently. You gave him a look and he smiled a little. “I’ve got you, baby. Just you and me where you can open the horses up and get back out in the trees a little. I’ll be there the whole time, I’ve got you. S’OK.” 

His eyes were so soft and his face was so open that you sighed and agreed. The first time had been scary. You only went for a few hours but you couldn’t relax the entire time you were gone, fully outside what felt like Jackson’s control for the first time since you’d come back. But Joel was right. He stuck close to you the entire time, always watching for any kind of threat, always ready to protect you. You made it back to Jackson in one piece, the only shots fired to take down a few stray infected ambling through the area. 

He gradually got you to leave the walls of the town more and more, even convincing you to bring Savvy and Ellie along one day, and you realized - as you sat on a picnic blanket with your husband and daughters - that the safety may not have been the walls of the city after all. It may have just been Joel. 

You felt comfortable now, outside Jackson with the man who had become your home, your safest place, your husband twice over. The trees were thinning, four hours into your ride and off the more beaten path. You looked at Joel, brows raised and he smiled. 

“That’s where we’re headed,” he said. “When we get to there, go ahead and open ‘er up, you’ll know where to go.” 

“So mysterious,” you teased and he shrugged, smirking a little, as you broke through the trees. 

The sight was almost damn near idyllic, a small lake that was clear as glass, a cabin with a big front porch complete with a swing sitting on the other side of it. You looked at Joel, mouth open in shock. 

“Me n’Tommy found it few months back,” he smiled. “Been fixin’ it up. Plenty of space for us, the girls, anyone they want to bring along. But… wanted to break it in right, just you and me. Besides, pretty sure I’ve owed you a honeymoon for a while now.” 

You laughed, almost giddy, and pushed Renaissance into a full gallop, skirting along the edge of the water, standing in the stirrups so the air sent the skirt of your dress billowing out behind you. You rode her up to the porch, slipping out of the saddle before she’d come to a full stop, too excited to get a look at the place. You realized there was a small dock just off the porch, a rowboat tied to the side of it, and wildflowers among the grass outside the cabin. 

“I do OK?” Joel asked, getting off Ares and coming up alongside you. 

“This is amazing,” you said, awed, as you took it all in. “I can’t believe you did all this, it’s…” 

You couldn’t find the words, just looking at him, a small smile on his lips. 

“C’mon,” he said, taking your hand and leading you up the front steps. He opened the front door but stopped you from going through it. “You gonna let me carry my wife across the threshold? Always wanted to do that with you in a wedding dress.” 

You laughed a little and draped your arms around his neck. 

“Think that can be arranged.” 

He bent and swept you off your feet and into his arms, making you laugh. 

“Then let’s go, Mrs. Miller.” 

He carried you through the front door and into the living room, some faded couches and mismatched arm chairs around a fireplace. Behind them was a table big enough to have the whole family gathered around it, a set of stairs beyond that and a kitchen off to the side. There was a bundle of wildflowers in a jar of water in the middle of the table, a shelf of board games and cards sitting next to the hearth. 

“Give me a few minutes to get the horses settled,” he said, setting you down and kissing your temple. “Then I’ll show you the best part of this place.” 

You took your time taking in the place, how much care you could tell Joel and Tommy had put into it. You could see places in the wall that had been patched, shelves that had been mounted. There were stores of canned foods in the cupboards, a canister of tea, a jar of honey, even a pair of matching mugs, both chipped with little owls on them that made you smile. In the living room, there was art on the walls: one of a horse grazing in an open field and another of a deer standing next to a moose in a clearing. You smiled, leaning in closer to see Ellie’s signature in the corner. 

“She wanted to contribute,” Joel said from behind you and you turned to face him. He set packs down on the couch and you smiled as he came to you, putting his arms around your waist and tugging you against him. He trailed his lips along your forehead, your temple, down toward your throat, his hands slipping up your sides to slide into the low neck of your dress, making you moan. 

“Want to see my favorite part about this place?” He asked, heat on his voice. You just nodded  and he pushed the top of the dress down, bearing your chest to him. “No one around for miles. All alone out here. So I can have you all to myself, naked, in that water out there.” 

He took the globes of your breasts in his large hands, cradling the weight of them gently in his palms, squeezing you and you groaned at his touch. He kissed you, dipping his tongue into your mouth and you pulled at the buttons of his shirt, opening them one by one. 

“Should get me naked then,” you said breathlessly when he pulled away from you ever so slightly. “That water looks awful inviting.” 

You undressed each other quickly then, Joel’s shirt and pants ending up in a heap on the floor, your dress draped over the couch. He took your hand and led you outside, pulling you along into the cool water. It was smooth and clear on your skin, the sandy bottom of the lake soft on your toes. He pulled you deeper, until the water was up to your shoulders, before tugging you against him. You smiled and he tilted your head so he could kiss you, his thumb over your cheek, fingers curving around the back of your neck. 

“I can’t believe you did all this,” you said quietly as he held you close. His thick, hard cock was pressed against your stomach, your breasts pressed against his wet skin. “You didn’t have to…”

“I wanted to,” he smiled, his forehead against yours. “I want to give you everything, baby.” 

You reached and put your arms around his neck, arching your back against him. 

“You already have,” you said softly. “You gave me you.” 

His hands drifted lower, cupping the round of your ass and lifting you so you could wrap your legs around his waist. His cock was pressed against your slit and you moaned at the feel of it, the way the water and the tip of him moved against your clit already making your pussy tighten. He lifted you, dragging the thick of his length over your sex until he notched his head at your entrance and he moaned. 

“Goddamn baby,” he said, voice tense with want. “Can feel how warm you are inside already…” 

He pulled you down onto him, his cock pressing into you slowly, slow enough that you could feel how he opened you to him, stretching you around him. You groaned, burying your face in his neck and breathing in the smell of him. 

“Fuck you feel good,” his mouth trailed over your neck, your bare shoulder. “So goddamn good, taking me so well…” 

Your fingers sank into his skin and you pressed yourself impossibly closer and tighter to him as he bottomed out inside you, your clit pressed against the base of his stomach, the whole of him thick and heavy inside you. 

“Joel,” you whimpered. “You’re so deep, feel so good…” 

“I know, sweetheart,” he breathed, taking his hands from your ass to your back to clutch you close. “I know.” 

He held you close and tight and you managed to pull your face from his neck to look at him, your eyes on his, noses brushing, breathing into each other as the water cradled you both. You moved together, every rock of your hips and thrust of his slow and aching. You weren’t able to tell where he ended and you began and you could feel his breath quickening as the heat inside you grew stronger, your channel getting tighter. 

“Want you to come for me,” he whispered, voice trembling. “Need to feel you, come on baby and come for me.” 

You could only moan in response, his thrusts growing firmer as you pressed your clit against his skin, his arms tightening around you. You were right on the edge, so close exploding around him. 

“Come with me,” you managed, clinging to him. “Please, I need to make you come, please…” 

He cut you off with a kiss, swallowing your needy sounds, moving in you desperate and claiming. Your orgasm built higher and higher, drawing you so tight around him it seemed impossible until he pulled you so close it almost hurt, body flush to his as you felt him come undone inside of you. 

It only took a moment for the pulsing of his cock to set off your own orgasm, making you throb and flutter around him as rope after rope of his come filled you. For a moment, it was as though you and Joel were the only people left in the world, the way he was around and inside you the only thing you could be sure of then. 

He held you after both your orgasms eased, his softening length still inside you, your head on his shoulder, your arms around him as his lips brushed your neck. The water was still and quiet around you, a soft breeze on the air and you smiled against his skin, a sense of peace settling over you as you did. 

It had taken so long to reach this point, so many years of pain and healing, so much you needed to move past. But it had all led you here, where you were together, where everyone you loved was safe and happy and you didn’t need to be afraid anymore. 

Joel’s hand trailed slowly up and down your spine and he pressed a kiss into your skin. 

“I’m so happy we got here,” you said quietly. 

You felt him smile against your shoulder. 

“Me too, Bambi,” he said, kissing you again before pulling back from him just enough to look you in the eye. “Come a long way in the last few years.” 

You smiled a little. 

“Hard to believe,” you said. “I didn’t think I’d ever have something like this. I didn’t know it was possible to have something like this.” 

“Me, too,” he said. “Makes it feel like all the shit we went through to get here was worth it.” 

“Yeah,” you said, kissing him gently. “It does.” 

You looked in his eyes, just appreciating him for a moment, the tan of his skin and the gray of his hair and the wrinkles and the scars that told the story of everything that he’d survived and felt deeply that he was one of the most beautiful things you’d ever held. 

“So,” he said after a few minutes. “Since this is a honeymoon and all, we got the place to ourselves for as long as we want it but figure we’ll want to get back to the girls before too long. What are you thinkin’ baby?” 

You hummed for a moment, considering. 

“Well,” you said. “I do miss the girls. But… I like having you all to myself. Think I want to stay here, where I can take advantage of the fact that I can get you naked whenever I want, for at least a few days. Maybe a week.” 

He smiled. 

“Week sounds good,” he said. 

“Plus,” you said. “We can always come back in the future. Have as many honeymoons as we want.” 

“Yeah,” he smiled wider. “We can. We got time.” 

You kissed your husband, soft and slow, before pulling away and smiling back at him. 

“We do,” you said. “We have all the time in the world.” 

A/N:

Hi, everyone!

I cannot believe we are here. Exactly one year ago today I published the first chapter of Yearling and now I'm publishing the last.

Thank you so so so much for going on this journey with me, Joel and Bambi. These characters have meant so much to me over the past year and it has been just an absolute joy to share them with you. I hope you've enjoyed how they've grown together and built the life they'll have from here on out.

If you'd like to keep reading what I'm sharing, I am starting up another few fics. There's an AU of Yearling that you can find here and I am working on another Joel fic that is a no-outbreak AU where Joel is reader's bodyguard. It's called The Savage and the Sanctuary and you can find that here.

I've always been bad at saying goodbye, so I won't do that. I will just say thank you for coming on this adventure with me and for all the love and support you've shared. I hope to see you again soon.

Be well, take care of yourselves, and spread a little kindness in the world.

Love you!!

Taglist: @ashleymsnodgrass@planet-marz1@kalea-bane @juneswonderlust @ilovepedro @h-annahayy @starstruckmusiciansartghost @beccerjune @mumma-moonchild @netonetoneto @mellymbee @purplelye @n7cje @flugazi @evyiione @randomhoex @aliengirl99 @orcasoul @reds-ramblings @pedropascalsbbg @fupoola @tinypotatothing @knopes-waffles @lilmizmoz @ayamenimthiriel @jenispunk @panda-pascal @sarap-77 @flugazi @your-slutty-gf @daniegraceg @partyofone3413 @cumberpegg @noisynightmarepoetry. @fifia-writes @grumpygrumperton @srmacaroni @txlady37 @bigboiseason123 @ashleyfilm @arizonadreamingg

[headkiss]

single thread (pt. 3)

part 1, part 2, part 3

pairing: spiderman!steve harrington x fem!reader

summary: you know steve’s secret, but he has another; he loves you. of course, you love him, too, and things change.

word count: 9.3k

warnings: spiderman!steve au, fluff, smut (thigh riding and a hj), mentions of a car accident (nobody gets hurt), idiots in love!!!!!!

a/n: she’s here!!!! thank u guys so much for ur support on this mini series, i have loved writing it so so much <3 this will be the last long piece, but if you guys have requests for blurbs from this universe, i’d love to have them!!!

/ᐠ(๏‸๏)ᐟ\

You’d never been that great at puzzles, at figuring things out quickly without hints. But for some reason, this was something you’re pretty sure of.

Steve is Spider-man. He’s the one who saved you, who saves people every day, and he keeps it hidden. You understand why he does, and you’d never want to pressure him into telling you something he doesn’t want to, you only wish he knew you were ready to listen. Whenever.

You’re not that strong, but you’d take some of the weight off of his shoulders if you could.

The news plays on your TV now more than ever, as more than just background noise. Your eyes focused on the screen whenever Spider-man is mentioned, analyzing the way he moves, the familiarity of the hand gestures when he speaks, the gentleness when he makes sure someone’s okay.

It isn’t only on the news that you notice things, either. Seeing Steve as often as you’ve grown to, you seem to find more tells constantly. How he can catch a glass before it spills without even looking, the way he’s on edge sometimes, like he can’t focus on one single thing.

You see Steve often, and the clues are there, and he still hasn’t told you about it.

It’s not that you expect him to tell you, or that you’re angry he hasn’t. It’s just been hard to pretend like you don’t know why he’s limping or like you’re still clueless to it all. He’ll tell you on his own time, or maybe he won’t, but you’ll have to be okay with that.

You’ve convinced yourself it’d be best not to tell him you knew. He’s probably stressed out enough, and you didn’t want to add to that if you could avoid it. You’ll be there for him either way, that’s what’s important.

Besides, on top of you figuring out he’s Spider-man, you’ve finally acknowledged the feelings that have been there for a while. The serious ones, the four letter ones. They’ve been on your mind more than anything.

You’re in love with Steve, that’s something you could tell him, in theory, but you can’t bring yourself to. You’d hate to ruin the only real friendship you’ve managed to build since moving.

So, he’s not the only one with secrets after all. He’s Spider-man, you know that he’s Spider-man, and you’re in love with him.

Lately, you’ve actually been thankful for how quiet things have been at work. Your head’s been loud enough. The thoughts of Steve, of trying not to give anything away every time you look at him, of whether he might be going to patrol whenever he leaves.

It’s all-consuming. Pathetic, even.

And it’s what’s on your mind—once again—as you walk home from your morning shift at work. The sun’s out, your eyes squinted when it hits your face. The breeze around you is still chilly, but the promise of spring and warmth is nice.

You glance over to the newsstand you always pass going to and from work, checking the picture on the front page to look for a certain mask. Today, it’s there, and you pause to look at it.

‘Spider-man catches culprit behind string of armed robberies.’

Skimming the article, your heartbeat picks up. The danger this boy puts himself in for the sake of other people. The injuries you’ve seen him come home with. You shake your head and keep walking.

“Mom, look!” A little boy says, urging his mother towards the newsstand. “It’s Spider-man!”

You turn around, a small smile on your face as you see the mother buying her son a copy of the paper. You guess you’re not the only person who can’t keep away from that hero.

Then, there’s a little glow in your chest, the reminder that you’re lucky enough to know the person behind the mask, too.

-

Steve thinks that telling Robin about you might’ve been a bad idea, because she looks like she might slap him right now.

“You’re telling me you kissed her, then told her it couldn’t happen again, and yet you still have that look on your face when you talk about her?”

Robin makes it sound very simple. To him, it isn’t.

“Well, yeah, but it’s complicated, okay? And I don’t have a look on my face, Robs.”

“You absolutely do, all moony and shit. If I didn’t want you to find someone so badly, I’d say it’s kinda gross.”

Honestly, Steve can’t even tell her she’s wrong. If the way he thinks about you tells him anything, it’s that he probably can’t keep it off his face. At the very least, he hopes that Robin can only tell because she knows him so well, not because it’s insanely obvious.

“Thanks.”

“Steve, I know you like her,” she says, gentler than before, careful not to scare him from the conversation.

I more than like her, he thinks. There’s a better way to describe it and he knows that. He may not admit it, not even to himself, but he knows it all the same.

Robin continues before Steve can reply, “and I know you’re scared, I do, but we both know you’d regret it if you didn’t give this a shot.”

He shakes his head. Somehow, every time he sees Robin, the conversation always leads to this. To you.

“I’d regret it more if I got her hurt.”

“Steve, I’ve known about you since the beginning and look at me. I’m right here, perfectly fine,” she holds her arms out, like it’s some sort of proof that she’s okay. “The worst I’ve done lately is scrape my knee, and that’s just because I’m clumsy, not because I know about you being Spider-man.”

He supposes she’s right, that she has a point here, but it doesn’t stop him from being afraid, from feeling an uncomfortable clench in his chest when he thinks about even the slightest possibility of putting you in danger.

“It’s different with her, though,” he says.

“Come on! Remember in high school when you had like four different girlfriends in a month?”

“That’s an exaggeration.”

“Well, still. Where’s that part of you gone?”

“Um…”

“Shut up, I mean the part that was open to that. To trying to make connections.”

“Maybe the venom from the spider made it disappear.”

She huffs and sinks into the couch cushions. Steve’s always been stubborn, quick to deflect with humor or sarcasm when things get too intense. Too much.

Robin’s a good friend, the best one, and she can see him closing up, so she changes her approach.

“I just want you to be happy, you know?”

“Yeah, Robs, I know.”

“Can you just think about it?”

“About what?”

“Asking her out, telling her how you feel,” Robin lays a hand on Steve’s shoulder, gives it a small squeeze. “Don’t close yourself off to it completely.”

Steve’s hand lands on top of hers, squeezes it back before letting go. He may not have that many people in his life, but having a friend like Robin never makes him feel like he’s missing anything.

At least, he didn’t feel that way until he met you. Now, he thinks about what it’d feel like to fall asleep and wake up with his arms wrapped around you, to be able to kiss you and hold you. To have that intimacy that you can only have when you’re in love with someone.

Fuck. In love.

“Okay. I’ll think about it.”

-

The good thing about being lost in thought while you walk is that it makes time go by quickly. By the time you’re walking up the stairs to your apartment, you’re not even sure how you got there, your feet having been on autopilot.

Just as you’re fishing out your keys, there’s the sound of a door opening, a pair of voices following. One that’s practically engraved in your head. The other is of a girl, who seems to notice you standing by your door very quickly.

“Oh my gosh! Hi!”

You blink at her a couple of times, because she’s talking to you like she knows you, like you should know her. “Hi…?”

Steve’s leaning a shoulder against his door frame behind her, a scrunch in his brows and a shake of his head. It’s all you catch before she grabs your attention again.

“Sorry! I’m Robin, Steve’s totally, completely plantomic best friend-”

“Oh my god,” he mutters.

“You’re the neighbor,” she continues, saying your name to make sure she’s right, even though she seemed plenty sure of that already. “Steve talks about you all the time.”

“Really?” You can’t help but ask. You try to hide the hopefulness in your voice, the happiness at the idea of him talking about you. All the time.

“Oh, yeah. You have made quite the impact on this guy,” she points towards him with a thumb over her shoulder.

“Robs,” Steve gives her a stare, eyes wide and—if the hint of pink spreading over his cheeks says anything—probably telling her to stop embarrassing him.

“What?” She looks back at him, all innocent.

“Don’t you have to get to work?”

“Okay, okay,” Robin turns towards you again, gives you a toothy smile that’s wide enough to have you sending her a small grin in return. “It was so nice to finally meet you.”

“You, too,” you say, and though she surprised you with a whole bunch at once, you mean it.

She pulls you into a hug and says to you quietly, “thank you for taking care of him.”

And with that, she walks away, retreating down the hall. Steve hears her, Robin knows that. Hell, she probably wanted him to.

He scratches at the back of his neck (that habit of his) and huffs, “I’m sorry about her. She can be sort of a lot.”

“Don’t be,” you shake your head. “She seems great.”

“You’d like her, I think. If you got to know her.”

He still seems nervous, like you and Robin meeting was a really big thing for him. And it is. The two most important people in his life meeting. Of course he’d want that to go well.

“Steve, you don’t need to worry, or anything. I already like her, okay?”

Anyone who seems to make Steve happier is bound to win some points with you. He deserves friends like that, especially with everything he has to carry.

“Okay, yeah. That’s good.”

He still seems nervous, so you step over and place your hand on his arm, giving him the lightest squeeze. He probably wouldn’t have felt it if it weren’t for how focused he is on you.

“I was just surprised, that’s all. Promise.”

Steve’s hand finds yours, intertwining your fingers gently, as if he doesn’t even know he’s doing it.

“Thank you,” he speaks quietly. Two words he tries to tell you as often as he can.

-

Steve’s been visiting you at work often, sometimes with food, always with enough to brighten your day. Getting to spend that extra time with him is another perk of working when it’s not busy.

Today, he’s decided to surprise you rather than give you a heads-up over the phone. There’s a takeout bag clutched in his hand, and a little ball of nerves in his stomach. He shouldn’t be nervous, it’s only you. Then again, it’s you.

He opens the bookstore door, the small bell above it jingling. For once, there’s a customer at the register. You glance over at Steve from behind the counter, wiggling your hand in a quick wave before helping your customer again.

And just like that, there’s that feeling in his chest.

Steve waits by one of the displays as you finish up, trying not to make it obvious that he’s looking at you. There’s the soft smile on your face, the tone of your voice, the way the lighting hits your skin. It all has his heart going quicker.

“Hi, Steve,” you greet him once the customer leaves. “I didn’t know you were coming today.”

“Hi, honey. Kinda the point of surprising you with food.”

“Well, thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Hopefully I picked something you like.”

From the packaging he’s seen before in your apartment, he’s pretty sure he did alright, but he waits for your confirmation all the same.

You open the bag he’d set on the counter, a small happy gasp that he likes way too much leaving your mouth, “yay! How’d you know I liked this place?”

He shrugs, “lucky guess.”

There’s a second stool behind the counter, and you pull it up for Steve without a word, patting the seat for him to sit down. He does, consumed by the brush of your arms as you unpack the food, the touch of your knees when you shift in your seat.

“Thanks again, Steve.”

“You already know I owe you for all the meals you’ve made me.”

“And you already know, you don’t owe me anything.”

You’re a kind person, Steve’s known that since he met you. So much so that you don’t even see the value in what you’ve done for him, like it’s the simplest thing for you. It’s the simplest thing to help him.

It makes him want to do things he said he wouldn’t. Things like kiss you.

“Anyway,” he shakes the thought away. “How’s your day been?”

You lift a shoulder as you finish your bite of food before replying, “been okay. I’ve had a couple more people come in than usual, which is good.”

“Yeah?”

“I mean, I love the quiet in here, love getting to just read behind the counter and call it work. But, it’s also nice to feel useful at least some of the time.”

“That’s good. What’ve you been reading?”

This is a question he loves to ask you, because you get excited to respond every time. He loves to watch you grab the book and show it to him, to see your hands flick through the pages as you tell him what it’s about, to watch the way your mouth forms the words you speak.

He loves to ask you, because he loves to listen to your voice when you answer. That word’s been in his head a lot lately. Love.

So much that he’s not sure it ever really leaves. It’s a lingering whisper, growing louder when he’s with you. Even after you eat, after the food’s been cleaned, as he walks out the door, the word stays.

“Bye, Steve, see you later!” You say as he reaches for the door handle.

He lets himself look at you again before leaving, his eyes lingering for a second too long. “Bye, honey.”

The bell above the door rings again as he leaves, but it isn’t loud enough to cover what’s rushing through Steve’s mind. I love her. I shouldn’t, I can't. I love her.

God, maybe he should talk to Robin again, he thinks. Or, maybe he could avoid the lecture he’s bound to get and take his mind off things the best way he can: putting on the suit.

-

Turns out that even when he should be focused on patrolling, his mind still likes to wander. That’s probably why he ends up stationed atop the building across from the bookstore, where your closing shift should be ending soon.

He ends up there most nights he knows you’re closing, really.

Before, when he couldn’t even let himself think about his feelings for you, he’d tell himself he stayed near the bookstore because it was a shadier area, more alleyways and all that. Now, though it sort of scares him, he’s able to acknowledge that it’s purely to make sure you’re safe.

He has a whole city to be protecting, but if his senses aren’t leading him anywhere else, he’ll always end up near you.

It’s sort of ironic. You, subconsciously looking for Spider-man everywhere you go, him being right there, and you don’t even know it. He’s so, so close.

Steve stationed himself across the street from you about twenty minutes before the shop was meant to close. His eyes squinted on his mask to see if there was anyone seemingly dangerous around, just in case.

Sometimes, when he does this, he can’t stop himself from thinking about that night when he found you in that alley. When his ears were filled with pure static until he knew you were safe. When he kneeled in front of you and brought you home. He doesn’t want you to go through something like that ever again.

The click of the bookshop door closing behind you has Steve’s heightened hearing turned on, knowing that you’re about to lock up and head home.

You feel like there are eyes on you as you walk. But, every time you look behind you, there’s nobody there. You’re just being paranoid, you tell yourself. You’re fine. And really, you are fine, because the eyes aren’t dangerous—though you don’t know it—they belong to Steve.

He hops across buildings as discreetly as he can while following your pace. Walking you home in his own, secret way.

The next thing happens in a complete blur.

You’re crossing at an intersection when a car runs a red light, speeding and crashing into another vehicle. You’re in the street, the two cars screeching on the pavement and heading straight for you. Even if you ran, you wouldn’t be quick enough.

But he was.

Steve jumped down before it even happened, his vision tunneling on that car, on you in its path. He just knew he needed to get to you first. He shot the web, swung down, and scooped you up right before the collision reached you. His heart pounding, his grip on you tight enough to knock the air from your lungs.

He lands and sets you down at the back of an alley, hidden from the bystanders that screamed at the sight of the crash, at the sight of him.

It takes you an entire minute of silence, of your chest heaving and your ears ringing to grasp what had just happened. How close of a call it was, how he was there to save you again.

Your vision is blurred by tears when you look up at him, at the red and blue suit, the mask. Your breathing is quick, panicked, but it slows the slightest bit when you look at him. Spider-man. Steve. The best boy ever.

When your eyes lock onto his face, Steve rushes forward, holding your face in a gentle grasp. It’s frantic, the way his hands shake when he reaches for you, the way his head tilts all over to make sure you’re okay. His thumbs brush away the tears that fall from your eyes, back and forth and back and forth.

“Hey, look at me,” he says, dipping his head down to make you focus on him. “Breathe.”

You shake your head, trying to calm down the best you can after coming so close. Fuck, it was so close. If Steve would’ve been a split-second later, you would’ve been hit. The thought doesn’t help you calm down one bit.

Steve can see the fear in your eyes, the quick rise and fall of your chest. It clenches his heart in a tight, uncomfortable fist, and all he wants to do is help you. So he lets it slip.

“Breathe, honey. Come on.”

Honey.

That’s all the confirmation you’d ever need. You were right. This is Steve. It’s Steve holding your face and saving your life.

You surge forward and wrap your arms around his neck, and his go around your waist instantly.

“Steve,” you breathe out so quietly, only he could have heard it.

His heart sinks and flips at the same time, if that’s even possible. It sinks because you know, somehow, and it terrifies him so much, he’s not sure what to say. But then, it flips, too, because there’s a relief that’s clear in your voice.

“How did you-” he starts, but you only squeeze him tighter.

“Steve,” this time, your voice breaks when you say it.

Now isn’t the time to talk about this. Not when you were almost hit, not in public. Not now and not like this, Steve knows that. The break in your voice tells him to push that back for now.

“I’m gonna take you home, okay?”

He can feel you nod against his neck, so he lets go of you with one hand and keeps the other wrapped around you and starts swinging.

Right now, at this second, he’s not worried about how you found out, how you know it’s him. No, he only cares that you’re alive, that he can feel your arms squeezing around his neck, that he can squeeze you back just as tight.

As he swings with you clutching onto him, the realization makes his breathing stutter.

You could’ve died just then. In that fraction of a moment, you could’ve been gone without Steve ever getting the chance to tell you he loves you. He can’t let that happen. He’s gotta tell you.

It scares the absolute shit out of him, but he has to do something. He can’t lose you before working up the courage to tell you how he feels, before having the slightest chance at kissing you again.

He won’t let that happen.

-

Steve’s very gentle with you, even when he’s swinging from building to building with you in his arms. The sure grip he has around your waist and the smell of his cologne buried under the suit help ground you as wind rushes by.

You’re alive, Steve’s got you, and he knows you know.

Your eyes are squeezed shut the entire way, and in only a couple of minutes, he’s hanging onto the side of his building by his window and thanking himself for (once again) not locking it.

“Hey, honey, can you open the window for me?”

You lift your face from his neck and nod, twisting to lift it open. Steve’s supporting you with one arm and holding the both of you up with the other. The strength he has is incredible, especially when you’re seeing it first hand.

He helps you get into his room with a hand on your lower back, and lifts himself in right after you. You watch Steve’s back beneath the suit as he shuts the window, watch his gloved hands remove the web-shooters from his wrists.

Then, slowly, watch those same hands lift up to the edge of his mask and tug it off.

Your breath catches. You knew it was him, but seeing Steve’s familiar face and its prettiest combination of features be revealed is different, it’s real.

“Wow,” you say, though you hadn’t really meant to. It slipped. “Hi.”

Steve’s had a twist in his gut ever since he found out that you knew about him, and it only tangles more now that you’re looking at him with widened eyes. He doesn’t want things to change with you, and he’s so scared that they will.

What if you don’t want to see him anymore because of this? What if you’re angry with him for keeping it from you? What if you end up hurt because someone wanted to get to him?

“Um, hi.”

You step closer to where he stands by his side table, your hands twisting in front of you like you’re nervous, too.

“You saved me.”

“Just, uh, doing my job,” he says, shrugging it off.

“Well, then, you’re really, really great at what you do.”

You’re trying to be light with the subject, to take it at his pace given it’s his secret, his life. Steve’s quiet for a few moments, a flicker of something you can’t distinguish crossing over his face.

“How’d you know?” Is all he says, but you know exactly what he means by it.

“Saw Spider-man with the exact same injuries as you on the news. I guess I just connected the dots from there.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”

You reach for his hand and hold it lightly, hoping that maybe, just maybe, your touch can help to ground him as much as his does you.

“Don’t be, okay? I understand why you wouldn’t. I just want to be there for you.”

“I don’t tell anyone, really,” he starts, his grip on your hand tightening as he speaks. “Robin’s the only other person who knows. I don’t want to put anyone in danger so I… I just keep it to myself.”

You squeeze his fingers, trying to show him in any way you can that you aren’t going to run away from this.

“You don’t have to keep it all to yourself, Steve. You can talk to me or knock on my door whenever you’re hurt,” he shakes his head. “You can. I keep my first-aid kit stocked for you.”

“It doesn’t scare you? That you might get hurt because of me?”

“I’m not scared for myself. I’m scared for you. Going out every night and fighting the bad guys. I’m scared that you’ll get hurt, Steve. I’m not worried about me,” he glances down but you step even closer, making him look at you. “If tonight shows anything, it’s that you’ll save me from getting hurt either way.”

Steve’s hand that isn’t holding yours moves up, pushing your hair over your shoulder before landing on your face. The fabric of his glove rests against your jaw, his thumb running over your skin, his eyes searching yours for a single hint of insincerity.

He doesn’t find one.

“You’re really important to me, honey.”

“You’re important to me, too.”

You’re close enough that you can feel his breath on your lips, his forehead a whisper away from yours. Close enough that you catch the way his eyes flick down to your mouth and back up.

“I know I said we shouldn’t-”

“Kiss me, Steve.”

“Okay.”

The hand on your face tilts you upwards, and just like that, he catches your lips with his. You’ve kissed before and still, there’s a rush of butterflies in your stomach, a warmth spreading over your skin the way a blanket of sunlight feels.

It’s slow, it’s delicate, and it means something. There are a thousand words that neither of you can say buried in this kiss, in the gentle press of your lips. Words spoken with the tilt of his head to get closer, the squeeze of his fingers interlocked with yours.

Steve doesn’t ever want to not be able to kiss you again. Not when it feels like this. Acceptance and reassurance, softness and the sort of glowing feeling he’s only ever had around you.

When he pulls away, he doesn’t go far. Your breaths meet between your faces, mingling in the silence that follows. Steve rests his forehead against yours, your noses brushing.

“I don’t want to be alone tonight,” you say. Because you’re still shaken from earlier, because you need the comfort that Steve seems to provide simply by being next to you, because you’re afraid that if you let him out of your sight, he’ll pull away from you again.

“You want me to stay with you?”

You nod. “Please.”

“Okay, honey, I’ll stay.”

As long as you’ll have me, he thinks, I’ll stay.

-

Steve did stay that night. After you both showered and got ready for bed, there was a moment where he stood—almost nervous—in the doorway of your bedroom. You lifted the covers for him and patted the spot next to you, and that was it.

He stayed for breakfast, too. This time, it was him cooking for you, stood over the stove in your apartment. It’s a sight you could definitely get used to. Then, like he could get any sweeter, he even called into work for you, saying you should at least get a day after what happened the night before. What almost happened.

Really, as scary as the crash had been, what you’d been thinking about the most was the way he kissed you. The way you’d woken up in the middle of the night with his arm around your waist. The way you fell back asleep easily with him there.

It’s what you’ve been thinking about in the days since. What you’re thinking about even now.

You know that something shifted that night, with him finding out that you knew he’s Spider-man, with you being able to reassure him that it won’t push you away. You could feel that shift, like a tectonic plate.

Despite that, things have been quiet and relatively the same with Steve. You haven’t seen him all that much, but when you do it’s still friendly. Friendly with something lingering between you, unspoken and palpable.

It’s dark out now, the evening news playing on your TV the way it so often does. It’s static to you until you see footage of Spider-man from earlier, swinging around and fighting crime again.

Naturally, your first thought is Steve, and whether or not he’s okay. Before, when he didn’t know you knew, you’d keep all this worry to yourself, letting it build and build until you saw him again. Now, though, he knows you know and you can do something about that concern.

You push yourself up from your couch and head to your door. Knocking on his comes easy, and he opens it quickly, like he knew it was you.

“Hi,” he says. There’s a smile pulling at his mouth.

“Hi. Sorry for bothering you, I just- um. I saw the news and I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

Seeing you on the other side of his door already had Steve’s heart doing this silly flutter in his chest. Knowing you care enough to check on him this way does something else entirely. It floods from head to toe, the feelings he has for you. The ones he’s identified as love.

“I’m okay, promise. Not even a scratch this time.”

You nod, a pressure lifting from your lungs. You breathe a little easier seeing him unharmed. Seeing him in general.

“Okay. Good,” you should probably stop there, turn around and go back to yours, but you don’t. “I was just really worried, y’know, ‘cause I’ve seen you hurt and all, so I just wanted to see you and check-”

“Hey,” he grabs your hand gently, cutting off your rambling and tugging you into his apartment, pushing the door shut behind you. “I swear not every Spider-man thing I do is dangerous.”

“Yeah, okay, because swinging from buildings is super safe.”

“I’m a professional at that. Nothing to worry about.”

The wood of the front door is solid against your back, and Steve’s hand still in yours is the same. Solid, reassuring, sweet. Steve steps just a bit closer to you, so that you’re toe-to-toe and there’s nowhere for you to escape to.

His free hand reaches up to fiddle with the ends of your hair, gentle in a way that almost feels like you dreamt it.

“Did you really only come here to check on me?” He asks.

“Yeah, I did. Is that… okay?”

Steve wants to kiss you for that. He thinks you might want that, too. So, he dips his face closer to yours, lets go of your hand only to hold onto the nape of your neck instead. He hesitates, waits for you to push him away, but you never do.

Instead, you tilt your head and meet him in the middle.

You never knew that kissing someone could be so easy, that you could fit together so well that it just works. But that’s how it is with Steve, and you suppose that’s how it is when you’re in love. The pink haze and heart-shaped touches.

Steve doesn’t think he could ever get sick of kissing you, of feeling so light when things are often so heavy for him. When you pull away, he chases your mouth and steals two, three pecks from you.

Then, to answer your question, he says, “it’s more than okay.”

You only notice now that you aren’t distracted by his mouth on yours that your hands had found their way to his shoulders. It’s impossible not to notice the muscles under his skin, the clear evidence of his strength. Heat spreads through you, and you have to pull your hands away to speak properly.

“You sure?”

“I’m sure,” he tells you. His hand, still on your neck, squeezes so, so lightly. “I know I’ve said that we should only be friends, but that was before. Before you knew, and I was terrified of what could happen to you.”

“What about now?”

“Now…” He takes a deep breath, and focuses his eyes on yours. Whatever he’s about to say, he wants you to know he means it. “Now I can’t stop thinking about you and how it feels to kiss you.”

“I think about you, too.”

“Yeah?”

You nod, and though being honest makes you nervous, the smile that spreads over his face makes it worth it. So does the slight blush of his cheeks.

“I want to take you on a date. If that’s something you’d like.”

“I would really like that, Steve.”

Right then, there’s another shift, a bigger one. You both know there are feelings here. Big, scary feelings that you can’t say out loud yet.

-

Steve took care of planning the date. He wanted to surprise you, to impress you and do something for you this time. You do enough for him already.

Though Robin assured him—after all of her ‘finally’s and ‘I told you so’s—that it would be great, perfect, even, he’s still nervous when he knocks on your door. He’s shuffling on his feet, puffing out a breath as he waits, and then he sees you and the rest sort of melts away.

You open your door to find Steve with a picnic basket in hand and a slightly windswept bouquet of flowers in the other. You smile as he hands them to you and try to hide it by smelling the flowers.

“Thank you, these are beautiful.”

“‘Course.”

“I’ll just put them in water and then we can go.”

Your stomach is a mess of flutters and nerves as you fill up a vase with water and put the flowers in it. Sure, you’ve spent time with Steve alone time and time again, but never like this. It’s exciting and it’s scary, but the welcome kind of scary that comes with new things.

“You’re taking me on a picnic?” You ask, locking your apartment door behind you and then falling into step next to Steve.

“If that’s okay with you?”

“Sounds amazing.”

“My cooking isn’t as great as yours, I have to warn you,” Steve says, holding the door open to the stairwell.

“I’m sure I’ll love it.”

“It’s okay if you don’t, I’m just saying.”

He holds the door at the bottom of the stairs open for you, too. And then the one to exit the building.

As you walk along, Steve leading the way, your nerves fade, replaced with the familiarity and comfort of Steve’s company. Replaced with the feelings that sweep inside you like a huge bubble of pink bubblegum, so close to popping and spilling it all.

You talk aimlessly about anything and everything, and Steve does the same. You both try not to make the little catch in your breaths obvious when your hands brush.

He takes you to a park, one with big trees and a walking trail, with scattered flowers and the fresh smell of nature that makes you feel like you’re not even in the city anymore. He keeps going, and you keep following him, until he finds the spot he’d found before. A small clearing between trees, shaded by their leaves and just enough space for him to spread out the picnic blanket.

“Why have I never found this place myself?” You ask, looking up at the sky through the leaves.

“You like it?”

You nod, sitting down next to him on the blanket he brought. “Thank you for bringing me.”

He shrugs, “thank you for coming.”

You share a smile, a slow spread across your mouths as you look at each other for a moment. A smile saying this is real. Then, like it didn’t even happen, he starts to unpack the food.

Steve can’t even remember the last date he went on, but he knows that it wasn’t anything like this. He’s never felt this light around someone before. Somehow, you turn the bricks that weigh him down into feathers.

You’d thought it before, but you’re sure of it now; Steve is the absolute best boy you’ve ever known. The effort he put into making and packing up the food, the shyness he has about it all, like he should be embarrassed for being sweet to you. You feel unbelievably lucky that you moved into the apartment across from his.

The date goes by in a blink. You and Steve subconsciously moving closer and closer on the blanket, your thighs touching and your arms brushing. The food eaten between conversation and giggles. The picnic basket is now packed up again, the containers empty this time around.

You rest your head on Steve's shoulder and say, “thank you for this.”

Steve’s eyes close for a second, trying to memorize how this feels. He opens them and presses the gentlest kiss onto your head. “You’re welcome, honey.”

You stay that way and breathe each other in, once, then twice. That’s all you allow yourself before you stand and brush yourself off even though you weren’t dirty in the first place. Steve folds up the blanket and places it in the basket, and he stands, too.

This time, as you walk back to your apartment building, when your hands brush, you and Steve feel just a bit more confident, enough to reach your pinkies out to each other and lock them.

Steve’s the one who fully grabs onto your hand, letting your fingers intertwine. It’s how they’re meant to be, he thinks, two pieces of the same puzzle that just happen to fit together. You don’t let go for the entire walk.

Outside your building, neither of you really want to say goodbye, to end the date that feels like the beginning of something really, really good.

But, just as Steve lets go of your hand to reach for the door, he feels it. The tingling over his skin, the goosebumps, the static in his ears. He blinks and turns to you.

“I’m sorry-”

“Stop, it’s okay. Just be safe.”

He’ll never understand how you’re so understanding, how you accept it so quickly. All he knows is he loves you for it and so much more.

“Thank you, honey.”

He presses the quickest kiss to your cheek, sets down the picnic basket, and then runs into the alleyway on the side of the building. When he emerges, he’s in his suit and swinging off.

He’d been wearing it under his clothes. Always prepared.

You pick up the picnic basket and walk up to your apartment half convinced that the last few hours have been some sort of dream. Too good to be true.

-

The issue that had Steve’s senses coming alive didn’t take long to handle. Still, he stayed out to continue patrolling, worried that something else could happen. Worried that it might be too soon to go back and see you again.

Not seeing you didn’t erase you from his thoughts. Not one bit. He spent the hours in the suit waiting for the city to die down, waiting for the moment his senses would quiet down enough to let him know he was done for the night.

All because he wanted to see you, kiss you. God, he’s so fucked.

You were faring pretty much the same. Only, you’d changed into your pajamas rather than a superhero suit, laying around on your bed with a book in hand to hear knocks on your door. Or, at the very least, to hear him get home safe.

When the knock comes, it isn’t on your door. Instead, there’s a tapping on your bedroom window by the fire escape. As soon as you hear it, you shut your book and turn towards your window, and there he is.

Steve hangs upside down, his head level with yours when you open the window to talk to him. If you weren’t so busy being in love with him, the sight would be sort of funny.

“Well hello, Spider-man,” you say, leaning your hands against the windowsill.

“Hey, honey.”

“You aren’t hurt are you?” You ask, moving your hands to hold his face, because you’ve seen him injured enough times to be worried about that, to know it’s a possibility.

“I’m completely fine.”

“You’re really okay?”

“Nothing hurts, I promise,” he says, shaking his head. How could it when you’re holding him like that, looking at him like that. Pain isn’t what he’s feeling in the slightest.

You’re not really thinking when you lean in and peck his cheek over the mask, but it’s enough to scorch his skin, to leave an invisible mark.

And Steve isn’t really thinking when he speaks, “have I ever told you that I think you’re really pretty?”

“You’re upside down,” you tell him, fighting a stupid, lovesick smile. “You must be seeing wrong.”

He ignores that comment and twists himself upright, then climbs through your window into your apartment. You have to back up to make room for him, and when his feet hit the hardwood floors, he’s only inches away.

“I’m right side up now. Still think you’re pretty.”

You’ve never been good at taking compliments, never really thought that people meant them, only that they were trying to be kind. Steve is different. You still don’t believe it yourself, but you can tell that he does. His voice holds enough emotion to do that.

Bashful, you walk around him to shut your window and then lock it. You try to keep your feelings off of your face when you turn back around and find him already facing you, his mask now off and clutched in his hand.

His hair is a mess on his head, his cheeks flushed from being upside down and maybe, just maybe from being so close to you.

“So, what brought you to my window?” You ask.

“I wanted to say sorry,” he says, scratching at his neck. That habit of his. “For leaving the way I did earlier.”

It’s a half truth. He wanted to apologize for that. But, mostly, he wanted to tell you he loves you. He’d been thinking about it his whole patrol. Thinking about when the right time would be then remembering how quickly things can change, how you’d almost been hit not so long ago.

With that, he decided that there wasn’t a right time, that he could lose you just like that and he swore to himself that he wouldn’t let that happen. Especially not without telling you how he feels.

But, he’s always been more courageous with that mask on, and now, he just can’t get the words to leave his mouth. They hover on the top of his tongue, sticky and heavy.

“I told you it’s okay, Steve. I swear,” you step closer to him and reach for his hand, tugging the glove off before lacing your fingers with his. “I know that you had to, that this is a part of you and I’d never expect you to change or ignore it. I-“ love you, you almost say. But the words get stuck for you, too. “I care about you so much. Spider-man included.”

Every time Steve worries, even the slightest bit, that you’ll feel differently about him because of this, you prove him wrong. You say all the right things to make him feel better, to make him want to fall into you completely and never look back.

You’ve proven to him over and over that you’re in this, that you’re this dream of a girl that somehow ended up in his mess of a life. A mess you’re willing to join, helping him clean it without even trying.

You’re a dream, his dream, and he has to say it. He has to say it so he does, those sticky words forced off of his tongue in a breath.

“I love you.”

He squeezes your hand on the second word, like he’s emphasizing it. Love.

“I love you,” he says again, and you realize you’re not dreaming. He really said it, and he’s really looking at you that way with those soft, brown eyes. “You don’t have to say it, I just needed to tell you. I’ve never had someone make me feel the way you do. Never.”

“Steve?”

“Yeah?”

Your heart pounds, thumps.

“I love you, too.”

“Serious?” He checks, because he thinks he dreamt it just like you had.

So you repeat it for him, “I love you, Steve.”

He leans in, not so afraid anymore, and places a hand on your neck, his fingers in your hair. The other hand squeezes yours again before letting go to frame your jaw and tilt your mouth to his.

It’s an easy rhythm to fall into now. Kissing him. And you feel yourself melt into him, your muscles relaxing, your body pushing towards his. Your arms are thrown around his neck, and all you feel is him.

It’s a delicate push and pull, a kiss that’s familiar but now has something new behind it. That acknowledged emotion, the reality of it. It has his tongue sweeping against the seam of your lips and dipping in when they part.

His hand is tangled tighter in your hair, and you’re not sure how long it’s been before you both pull away, breathless, chests heaving, matching smiles on your lips. Your noses still brush, and still, it doesn’t feel close enough.

Steve’s hands shift to run down your shoulders, then your arms, and back and forth.

“Does this mean I’m your girlfriend?” You ask, still breathing heavy, still feeling his breath fan across your lips.

“I’d like to think so,” he says, his hands now settled around your forearms. “If that’s what you want.”

You nod, kiss him quick. “Does it also mean you’ll stay the night?”

“As long as I can use your shower first,” he says.

“Good idea.”

“You saying I smell?”

You shrug, shoulder to your cheek. He smiles, and in turn, so do you, and it feels like the closest thing to perfect there could ever be.

-

Steve emerges from your bathroom with damp hair falling over his forehead and your clothes on instead of his suit. You lent him a t-shirt and a baggy pair of sweats that are still a bit too short at his ankles. You grin when you notice that.

And Steve grins when he sees you. My girl, he thinks. And it’s for real this time.

You’re sitting with your back against your headboard, knees bent and your book in your hands yet again. You needed to occupy yourself while he was showering, after all. Otherwise, you’d just think and think and think about him in the next room, his mouth on yours. His voice saying the words ‘I love you.’

He walks over and sits on the bed by your feet, his side facing you, but his head turned to look at you. Seeing him in your clothes, in your space, you think it’s something you’d like to see forever. Seeing you waiting for him in bed, Steve’s thinking the exact same thing.

“Hi,” you say.

Steve wraps a hand around your bare ankle, his thumb smoothing back and forth. “Hi.”

Though everything’s out in the open now, there’s a shyness there. Like two kids with crushes wondering what to do next. You’ve never loved each other out loud before today. It’s brand new territory.

But with that shyness, there’s so much more. There’s the knowledge of how it feels to kiss each other, to hold each other. There’s want to do it all again.

Steve’s other hand reaches for your book and sets it open and face-down on your nightstand. Then, he pushes your knees over so that he can lean in. He’s not fully thinking about what he’s doing, he’s simply listening to this thread that pulls him closer and closer to you until he’s kissing you again.

It starts with a couple of pecks, innocent, soft, quick. It turns into more and somewhere along the way you’re tugged into Steve’s lap, your knees on either side of one of his thighs. And somewhere along the way Steve’s hands have ventured under your shirt, running across your waist and up and down your back. He groans into your mouth when he notices the lack of a bra.

Steve tugs you impossibly closer to him, tugs you down so that you’re straddling his thigh with all of your weight. You inhale sharp and quick through your nose when he does.

It’s not long after that before you’re panting, unable to keep up with his mouth, and though Steve’s chest heaves, too, he doesn’t take the break to breathe properly. Instead, he dips his head to kiss your jaw, then your neck.

Your head tilts for him easily, an arm wrapped around his shoulders and the other tangled in the hair at the bale of his neck. You gasp when his teeth scrape against the skin behind your ear, your hips hurting unconsciously to rut against his thigh.

“Sorry,” you say, worried it was too much. Still, it comes out breathily.

He pulls back from your neck, looks into your eyes, his brown ones just a bit darker than usual. “Did that feel good?”

Your eyes search his face for an ounce of discomfort, of uncertainty. All you see is the kind of warmth that spreads through you, the kind of intensity that only comes with lust.

“Yes.”

“Do it again,” he tells you, his hands slipping down to rest just above the waistband of your shorts. He encourages you to move, his hands pushing and pulling. You move with him, slowly at first, letting out the smallest whimper when the angle is just right. At the sound, Steve says, “keep doing it.”

“Steve.”

“You’re okay,” his hands urge you forward again, his thumbs running back and forth soothingly. “I wanna make you feel good. Okay?”

“Okay,” you agree, because how could you not when it already feels so good, when he’s looking at you with kiss-swollen lips, messy hair, and wide pupils. When he’s looking at you like it feels as good for him as it does for you.

You move quicker, his hands encouraging you still. He kisses you again, kisses you until you have to pull away, your mouth dropping open, a moan slipping out before you can stop it.

Steve wishes he could bottle up the sound and keep it, listen to it over and over. Because he’s the one who’s making you feel that way, he’s the one who has your hand tight in his hair. Because he’s thought about you before, and it’s nothing compared to the real thing.

The sweatpants you lent him grow a bit tighter, and his hands don’t stop guiding you over him. He wants to hear you make that noise again.

You drop your forehead to his shoulder, your thighs tightening around his, your clit catching on the fabric of your shorts and his (your) sweatpants enough to make you moan again.

“That’s it, baby. Doin’ so good.”

It’s the first time he’s ever called you ‘baby’ and you hope it won’t be the last.

“Steve.”

“I’ve got you.”

The hand that isn’t in his hair trails down his torso and rests above the waistband of his pants for a second. Your hand cups him over his pants, squeezing lightly and finding him hard. Watching you was enough to turn him on, and the thought makes you whimper again.

“Fuck. You don’t have to,” he says, taking a hand from your waist to pull your face from his shoulder, to look at you.

“Want you to feel good, too.”

There’s nothing but honesty in your words, want in your eyes.

“Shit, honey.”

“Will you let me?” You ask, your voice slightly strained from the stimulation you feel, your hips still moving.

“Yeah.”

Your hand slips under the waistband with his consent, and you wrap it around him, your thumb running over his tip. He groans and leans his forehead against yours.

You’re breathing the same air, moving at the same pace, and you don’t think it’s ever felt this right with anyone before. With Steve, you’re not thinking about how you might look and whether or not he’ll like it, you’re only thinking about being with him.

“I’ve thought about you before. Like this,” he says, a quiet confession broken up by heavy breaths.

“Me, too,” you reply in a gasp.

His hands are both on your waist again, squeezing your skin tighter because you have a hand wrapped around his cock and it has his head spinning.

“You getting close, baby?”

“Yeah, Steve. So good.”

“I know. Keep going. I wanna see you.”

His voice is tight, and he’s holding himself back though it hasn’t been long. Your hand is soft, running up and down and he hasn’t been with someone in so long. The fact that it’s you, right now, doesn’t help him last. Just kissing you would be enough, he thinks.

Your rhythm stutters, your eyes squeezing shut, and just like that, you’re tipping over the edge and coming on his thigh.

“That’s it, sweet girl,” he hums, low and scratchy. “That’s it. Look so pretty coming on me.”

Your hand pauses where it was jerking him off, too caught up in your orgasm to keep going. You say his name, say it again, and he keeps you moving over him through it all.

“Fuck,” you open your eyes when the last wave draws away, your legs shaking slightly.

It doesn’t take you long to start stroking him again, up and down and back again. Steve grunts and his hips stutter upwards, chasing your touch. It’s your turn to work him through it.

“Gonna come, honey,” he warns you. “I’ll ruin your sweats.”

“Don’t care,” you say, kissing his cheek, the corner of his mouth. “I want you to.”

You run your thumb across the tip again and then his fingers are digging into your skin. He’s groaning and you feel the warmth of his come spill onto your hand. Neither of you had taken any clothes off and still, it’s the best you’ve ever had.

“Shit, honey.” This time it’s his head that rests against your shoulder. “I’m gonna need another shower now.”

You laugh breathily and pull your hand from his pants, wiping it off on the thigh you’re not sitting on, ‘cause they’re already ruined, anyway.

“I’ll get you another pair,” you say.

“In a minute. Can’t move.”

A minute is closer to five, and eventually he lets you go. You hand him a new pair of sweatpants, then clean up in the bathroom and change into different shorts. When you come back, he’s laying down under the covers in your bed. Twin smiles spread on your faces.

“You’re cute,” you tell him.

“So are you.”

You shake your head and flick your light off, the street lights flooding through your window the only thing left illuminating your room. You join him under the covers, and he doesn’t hesitate to wrap an arm around you and pull you into his chest.

Your head rests by his shoulder, one of your legs thrown over his. Having him laying next to you is much more comfortable than being alone.

“I love you,” Steve says, his lips pushing a kiss into your hair.

“I love you,” you say right back.

And then, just like you’d imagined so many times before, you fall asleep cuddling Steve. And just like he’s imagined so many times before, you wake up that way, too.

/ᐠ(๏‸๏)ᐟ\

thank you guys so much for reading spidey!steve i hope u liked it!!!! pls pls consider reblogging and letting me know what you thought, i promise it makes a difference <333

[jeridandridge]

stelle splendenti (shining stars)

Not edited, it’s been a minute.

On Friday night after school Melissa and Jacob find themselves at a shared favorite restaurant sipping drinks and chatting like they do in their new found friendship.

“And then,” Jacob laughs, “then I did my walk of shame practically blind and almost tripped in the crosswalk on 5th.”

Jacob and Melissa howl with laughter in their booth, the redhead wiping her eyes. “Oh god, kid. I’m impressed.”

“Jacob what are you doing here?”

Looking up Melissa’s breath hitches when she sees the gorgeous woman next to their booth. “Stelle splendenti.” She whispers smiling at the stranger.

“Y/n!” Jacob stands up pulling the woman into a hug. “Melissa, this is my friend, I was just telling her about you recently.”

“You’re a friend of Jacob’s?” The redhead smiles gesturing for the stranger to sit.

“Yeah, this guy crashed on my couch for a few months and we’ve been friends ever since.” The woman smiles. “If I weren’t living in a shoe box it’d probably be the same set up now.” She chuckles.

“Ah it’s alright, Mel Mel and I are good friends now.”

Melissa nods trying not to stare at the woman, completely mesmerized by her eyes. She doesn’t know it, but Jacob catches on right away.

“Ya know, y/n, Melissa has a ticket guy for sports. I know you like the flyers, maybe we can all go to a match sometime.”

“Game,” Malissa and the woman correct him at the same time. “You like the flyers, hon?”

“I do,” she nods with a chuckle. “I’ve always loved hockey, football is a close second though.”

Now Melissa is very intrigued.

“Pretty and a sports fan? Jacob where have you been keeping this one?”

The conversation goes on, and it turns out this woman is a breath of fresh air.

“No it’s from the 40s originally, way before all of us.” She laughs, her eyes crinkling.

“What can I say, hon you’ve got good taste.”

She smiles at the redhead with a shrug. “I usually do.”

Hours later, Melissa is dead tired but cant force herself to move from the booth. Getting to know Jacob has been a delightful surprise and now she was surprised that she found herself liking one of his friends.

“I have to get going but it was so nice meeting you, Melissa. Jacob give her my number and I’ll send you the links to that band.” She smiles hugging Jacob before putting her jacket on and walking out. Jade eyes follow her slim frame all the way down the aisle of booths.

Melissa Schemmenti is screwed big time.

After a weekend of constantly thinking of the cute woman and giggling at her phone like a school girl, Melissa sits with Jacob in the teachers lounge staring at her phone screen.

“Just ask her to hang out,” Jacob shrugs with a smile. “She’s a really great person.”

“Kid,” she sighs leaning back in her chair. “Look, you’d make a great wingman but that’s just not in the cards for me okay?”

“How do you know that?” He asks in a way only Jacob can. “You don’t know how it’ll go if you don’t try, and If I were a betting man I’d say Barbara probably told you the same thing.”

He smiles just as Barbara walks in with the others.

For the rest of that morning Melissa thinks about what Jacob said and how he’s right although she’d never say it aloud. Her marriage ended badly and her last relationship ended in an embarrassing failed marriage proposal. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to try again. For the rest of the day her mind drifts off to the woman even during her lesson with the kids.

Up on the second floor after the kids have long gone Jacob holds the phone to his ear walking back and forth across the floor. “Quit being chicken and give it a try.” He huffs into the phone.

“Jacob! What if she says no? Does she even like women?” His friend asks on the other end.

Walking around his classroom Jacob can’t help roll his eyes.

“I know you two have been texting all weekend, if she wasn’t into you she wouldn’t be doing that. Trust me.”

“Fine, but if this backfires you’ll never hear the end of it.”

Later on in the evening Melissa sits on the edge of her bed looking at her phone screen. The phone number shines on the screen, like it’s taunting her. Taking a breath the redhead hits the number almost vibrating as it rings on speaker.

“Hi, gorgeous.” A bubbly voice comes from the other end.

“Hi,” Melissa laughs, “ya know I usually don’t do this but I dunno, I wanted to call ya.”

“I’m happy you did. Textings nice but I like actually talking. Plus it’ll get Jacob off my case.”

“He’s been on you too? I couldn’t get him to leave me alone. I guess that’s what I get for acting like a schoolgirl.” Melissa bites her lip hoping the admission isn’t too weird.

“If it makes you feel any better I was really giddy all weekend.” She chuckles.

Melissa smiles twirling one of her rings. “I guess it wouldn’t be so weird if I asked you out then?”

“I was hoping you would, especially since the first thing you said to me was a dreamy Italian compliment.”

“You heard that huh?” Melissa laughs practically face palming herself. “Your eyes are very pretty.”

“With a compliment like that I’d be very dumb to say no to a date.” She laughs on the other end.

“Finally!” Jacob bursts through the door tossing his hands up.

Melissa and the young woman on the other end both snap at their friend.

“Jacob!”