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headkiss · 1 year

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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

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daemonmage · 2 months

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A Stupid Batfam AU

Jason’s and Bruce’s rocky relationship is actually a pr move to make sure the rest of the batfam doesn’t get attacked by reporters and gcpd.

Essentially Red Hood, while liked by the Crime Alley citizens and other citizens as well, has a pretty bad reputation with a lot of the rest of the city. The GCPD hate him for his overt violence and the head incident. The Media hates him cause he’s what they all feared Batman would become and are constantly creating news stories on him. A lot of the other citizens are just scared of him cause sometimes his temper gets out of control. It’s not the best reputation.

Bruce and Jason have long since talked and settled their differences. Well, it’s more of a “I don’t approve of your methods but I will acknowledge you as a person who wants to help, but I will still dislike the guns. Also I missed you” from Bruce and “I’m not happy with a lot of your decisions but I also understand why you came to those decisions. I’m still mad but I now know that you missed me and I missed you too” from Jason. They’re better than they were originally and honestly that’s all they could hope for. Jason visits the manor more and is having fun being brothers to Dick and Tim.

Here’s the thing though… his reputation as Red Hood may have accidentally spread to the other Bats. A few team ups here and there (and the red bat on his chest) have made everyone assume that Batman is now working with Red Hood, a known crime lord. The media and GCPD were on them like flies on shit. Jim tries to calm down the gcpd with mixed results, but he can’t stop the media from blowing this out of proportion. It’s like the news channels from Dark Knight Returns, but worse.

Jason, who just got his family back, is fucking pissed. Jason is also dramatic as hell. Bruce was willing to just deal with this, but Tim is too new at this to be caught in the crossfire. Bruce was just gonna bench him out of fear until things calm down (he’s dealt with this before) but Jason brings up his plan to Bruce. Bruce isn’t as dramatic as Jason, however he is still absolutely dramatic. He agrees. So begins an epic fight between two ideals that ends two vigilantes at each other’s throats constantly.

Red Hood and Batman fight any time they are together, Red Hood is arrested by Batman on multiple occasions, and Red Hood always escapes leaving terrifying threats spray painted where the bat can see. (Jason and Bruce give each others shit for the pot shots they take and Bruce compliments Jason’s form when he gets a good hit in, Bruce gives Jason a heads up to the easier ways to get out of a police car and Jason ignores him going for the most dramatic ways, Bruce complains that the code Jason uses for his threats are obvious and he can just ask Alfred himself for cookies, why does Bruce have to be the middle man.)

The super hero community doesn’t really know this (cause they can be pretty bad actors at times, says Bruce) tis can cause problems. Superman and Green Arrow capturing Red Hood. Batman had to pull the “he’s Gotham’s problem give him to me,” which led to a hour of arguing to get Jason back. Tim’s friend have Red Hood on their hit list for what Hood did to Robin (Tim is over it but he does use this as a way to get back at his brother when he pisses him off) and Red Hood has to be on the Villain List to sell the act, so every hero ever knows the Red Hood is a villain. This leads to chaos.

There are still rough moments where Bruce and Jason still fight, but it’s better. Jason gets to hang out and play games with Tim. He plans overly dramatic fights with Dick (with full plot cause these two are so extra.) He helps Alfred in the kitchen again talking about books they’ve both read. He and Bruce talk again, they talk about their fears and what they’ve missed. It’s better, and that’s all that really matters.

#batman #batfam #red hood #jason todd #bruce wayne #batfam au #stupid au #dick grayson #nightwing #robin #tim drake #batfamily #this is so dumb #but its been in my head so now it here #I already have stuff for Tim and Dick specifically #which includes #teen titans

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pix3lplays · 3 months

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the aventurine thoughts are being had right now i’m going insane.

pathetic man he’s so silly and pathetic i will punch him

like. he’s so unaware and very very confident in himself.

imagine at the start of him and you dating, he gets then extravagant gifts that are definitely NOT suited to your taste. you simply smile and try to decline, but he takes it as ‘oh wow, can’t accept this, too expensive’ rather than a ‘aeons this is so ugly but i’m trying to be nice about it.’

so he keeps gifting you the gifts. at a point you’re just confused and a too lazy to actually properly decline (plus he keeps insisting and insisting and you have no room for refusal) so you just sell the gifts at the end of the day, behind his back.

maybe a little further down the line, he finds out about the gift selling. okay in fairness, you have been giving him nice gifts using the credits you get (you know… actually nice gifts that are suited to his taste) but he’s still pretty offended.

maybe he finds a records of you selling these gifts (like… receipts? idk man) and maybe he goes to confront you but he bumps into a friend of yours who notices what he has in his hands.

“oh? they clearly really hate your gifts, you know. they’ve been complaining to me about it, lamenting the fact that they can’t get anything suited to their tastes…”

“well, why didn’t they refuse?” (he still can’t fathom he idea of you not liking the gifts? when you clearly accepted them?)

“um. they tried.”

so at this point aventurine accepts defeat and pesters the friend into getting your tastes in clothing, jewellery, all your interests and the like. so you’re really surprised when you notice a shift in the gift giving — suddenly you get that really nice top you wanted, or a pair of sunglasses that have been on your wishlist for a while. suddenly you get books and tools for the things you’re interested in. you’re extremely confused.

aventurine lies. “oh, i knew this all along! i was just testing the waters, of course. a gambler simply enjoys seeing if his gambles (of gift giving) pay off or not.” for like 3 weeks he’s been giving you terrible gifts and he still can’t acknowledge he had no idea what you liked. pathetic man <3

yeah hs’s so pathetic i love him

Alright wow that’s hilarious thank you for this-

Notes: super silly, goofy Aventurine, just going off a silly headcanon that Aventurine has bad taste

I LOVE Aventurine and yeah his sense of style is GREAT but something about him tells me he also has really Bad taste sometimes too-

Kinda obsessed with Aventurine thinking ah yes: things I like=stuff you like.

No…no, Aventurine.

I’m sorry if you like this kinda stuff but I’m picturing he’s a big fan of like…OBNOXIOUS animal print. Not just regular animal print, I’m talking super obnoxious. I’m not crazy right you know what I’m talking about?? (No animals were harmed it’s just a pattern lol.)

He seems like the type who thinks that matching couples outfits are GREAT. Which, sure yeah, but…not when Aventurine’s subjecting you to his bad taste haha.

Matching sunglasses? Ok yeah that’s cute you can do that.

No no Aventurine likes to bust out the glittery clothes that you can’t even look directly at lest you damage your eyes-

You’re like no I’m sorry I cannot wear that-

And he doesn’t understand, haha…Well okay he’s gonna wear it anyways.

Aventurine’s great because sometimes you look at him and say “why are you dressed like that?” and he’s being DEAD SERIOUS when he says “like what?”

But he’s also your boyfriend. He can dress however he wants and if anyone gives him a hard time they’ll have to answer to you-

Also I was very vague when I mentioned this ask to @fire-lizard-ro and they had some fun thoughts hehe. So thank you, Roro!!

So yes your friend could give him a hint, but they had another idea I thought was also interesting.

Aventurine getting frustrated that you’re not very receptive to his expensive gifts so finally he just gives up and gets you a bouquet of flowers and…

It’s the first time he’s ever seen you genuinely excited about a gift he’s gotten you.

Then you start explaining what the flowers mean and why the gift means so much to you and then it HITS him.

O H. The gift has to MEAN something. Okay, okay he can do that. He got LUCKY with the flowers but at least he KNOWS now.

Although he’s not great at it at first. How can he make a gift “mean” something??

He discovers he has to be more attentive to you to figure out what you like. It’s a little strange at first, Aventurine taking such an interest in you all of a sudden. Asking you about yourself, not so subtly trying to figure out what you like…it’s odd but you must admit that his gift-giving skills have gotten MUCH better.

He still has this problem with getting you the most expensive gifts he can possibly get but…at least you’re actually keeping his gifts now. And he does feel Very proud when you’re wearing those new sunglasses he bought you or maybe displaying stuff in your home that he’s given you.

Unfortunately you’ll never talk him out of spending too much money on you.

Now I’m having a vision of him taking you to a fancy restaurant and he hits you with, “one of everything for you, dear?” and you’re obviously like, “No??” and then he confidently orders you one of everything anyways.

“Aventurine we look ridiculous with ALL that food coming to our table…”

But the more I think about it…yeah, Aventurine likes looking and feeling rich. He likes spoiling you too. You don’t know how to explain that the whole “money can buy love” doesn’t work on you.

Ah well. It’s how he shows he loves you, so you can’t say too much about it.

Maybe he’ll eventually figure it out but somehow I doubt it haha. But at least his gifts have gotten SO much better!

#honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #Aventurine #Aventurine x reader #Hsr Aventurine x reader #honkai star rail Aventurine x reader

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111gloomtime · 4 months

Text

under the weather

⭐️ : fluff, chris x reader

cw : none i think

a/n : i’m taking a break for about a week to be with my family for the holidays. i love u all and i’ll be back soon!!

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i emit a soft groan while lying in bed, feeling very under the weather. although i typically enjoy winter, being sick puts a damper on things. not only that, but seasonal depression always kicks my ass this time of year. shifting around, i attempt to find a comfortable position, placing my hand on my forehead and realizing i have a fever. suddenly, my phone buzzes, prompting me to lazily pick it up and discover a text from chris.

“hey, nick told me your sick so i’m coming over with snacks and medicine. see you in 10”

“chris, it’s you’re. we talked about this. and you don’t have to come over, i’m fine.” i text back.

“whatever….”

great! now chris has to see me like this. usually, this would be fine because i’ve known the sturniolos since i was 11. they’ve quite literally seen me in every phase of my life. but recently, as much as it pains me to admit, i’ve developed feelings for chris. before these last few months, i saw chris as a crazy outgoing and somewhat emotionally closed-off person. but lately, i’ve noticed he’s actually very sweet and thoughtful. hes always been good looking of course, but i never really acknowledged it. he’s been working on himself lately too, which has made me fall even harder for him.

and now, he is going to see me in the worst state he could possibly see me in.

using all the energy i have left, i get up and slowly make my way to the kitchen. i reach for a water from the fridge and open it. the idea of walking all the way back to my room pains me, so i just plop on the kitchen floor. suddenly, i hear my front door creek open.

“hey i’m he- why the hell are you on the kitchen floor..” chris says in a confused tone. “and why do you only have a tank top and underwear on…”

oh my god.

“i got up to get water and didn’t feel like going back to my room. and don’t ask about the outfit, it’s the best i could do.” i say tiredly. i guess with my mind being so fogged i hadn’t even thought about changing clothes. he leans down and puts the back of his hand to my face.

“holy shit you’re burning up. nick wasn’t kidding…” he says, sounding slightly worried. he sets the bag of snacks down on my kitchen counter.

“let’s get you off this floor..” he says as he pick me up, with surprising ease. i look up at him as he carries me, studying his facial features. his sharp jawline, the way his hair falls over his face. butterflies.

he sets me down on the couch and quickly grabs the bag of snacks, then sets himself next to me. with my head pounding and ears ringing, i physically can’t keep my head up. absent mindedly, i lay my head down on chris’s lap. this makes his cheeks go pink. and i bet if my face wasn’t already red from my raging fever, id be blushing too.

“do you need a blanket?” he asks softly. i nod and he throws a thin blanket over me.

he reaches over to the bag and pulls out a bottle of advil. he gestures it towards me, silently asking if i want to take any. i put my hand out and he shakes out 2 pills. i grab my water bottle and take the pills, then put my head back down on his lap.

“chris you really didn’t have to do this, i-“ i start to say, but he cuts me off.

“please, i wanted to. i can’t stand seein ya like this.” he says. the advil starts kicking in and i start getting really drowsy.

“thank you..” i say wearily, barely being able to think from the mix of the advil and my raging headache. suddenly, he starts running his hands through my hair. i would say something, but i don’t have the energy to. either way, it’s making my heart race.

could this be my chance to tell him how i feel? suddenly my mind starts racing. worst case scenario, he says he doesn’t feel the same and i tell him tomorrow it was just the advil talking. but what if he says he does feel the same? then what??? after battling with my own thoughts, i finally come to a conclusion.

fuck it.

“chris i nneed to tell you somethinng” i say, slurring my words.

“hm?” he says gently.

“i…” i hesitate. “i hhave liked you for the past ccouple months.” i say, still slurring my words. he stays silent.

“just try and get some sleep, ok?” he finally says calmly. i feel tears well in my eyes.

this medicine is messing me up, because im not acting like myself. telling chris how i feel? then crying? what the hell is wrong with me.

i prop myself up on my elbow and look up at him.

“you.. you don’t feel the same?” i say quietly, holding back tears.

“no no y/n, please don’t cry.” he says thoughtfully. he holds me and puts my head between his head and shoulder. we’re both quiet for a minute.

“i do feel the same. i have for a really long time, longer than id like to admit.” he says.

“what..?” i say.

“if i’m being honest, i was gonna tell you today whenever i came over. but i saw the state you were in and i just couldn’t.” he says genuinely. i simply stare at him, admiring him even more now. he smiles at me and kisses my forehead. my cheeks turn pink and i lay my head back down on his lap.

“so.. does this mean we’re together now?” i say.

“only if you want that.” he says back, running his hands through my hair once again.

i smile. “i do want that.”

he giggles and leans down to give me another kiss on the cheek. and with that, i fall into a deep, medicine induced sleep.

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the ending is kinda rushed so sorry if this sucks lol

#matt sturniolo #matt x reader #chris sturniolo #fluff #nick sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #fanfic #matt sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo smut #christopher sturniolo #chris x reader #smut

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vampiretendencies · 1 year

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hope you’re doing well ! would you be able to do one where the reader and jj’s relationship is still pretty new and they’re both still nervous about holding hands, touching, kissing, giving compliments to each other, etc? 🫶

warnings; fluff

pairing; jj x fem!reader

authors note; i wasn’t sure if you meant for this to be a blurb or not but i’m made it one so i hope you still enjoy :)

A vague hug.

Every now and then at least, that’s the most either of you have accomplished. JJ’s on the brink of actually diving head first into a pile of needles— he wants it so bad. The man that’s came close to death multiple times, can’t even muster a hand hold with his Goddamn girlfriend.

One could give it to him that it was newly raw and it’s gleaming with a two month span, that these things came with it— but it doesn’t, not right now anyway. He’s done this before, with flings and hook ups. He can’t do that with you, for you are infinite. In JJ’s world, you are suns that never set, you are a cold beer first thing in the morning, you are a blunt right before bed. May not seem like realistic, loving instances to most, but all of that encompasses JJ. You’ve taken that place, and he doesn’t want to spoil it. You too, were afraid to do it as well, not that you were scared of him, it’s just frightening and nerve wracking to learn the whole of someone’s body.

The big ‘it’ in the room is navigating a new relationship.

The gnawing feeling to want to know your human inside and out, but is it too soon? Would they want you to?

Figuring these things out is the realm of why JJ could not compensate for dating, though he wants it all for the first time, right now, with you.

To touch the one he’s held closest to his heart for so long, he gets the girl, and now he doesn’t know what to do with her. Agreeance could be met, that out of all the nail biting situations they’ve encountered in love, this tops the list.

Miraculously enough, the churning of either stomachs could not be heard. Sat alike one another in the open portion of the Twinkie. The chimes of light music strumming from the radio, an alarming uncomfortable silence is cutting the air. He’s afraid you just saw the lump he gulped back in his throat. Thighs hardly touching, the contact of hands that won’t graze are in the open space waiting to be filled. Both pairs of legs straightened, avoiding, wavering eye contact.

“Shit. My hands are sweaty.” JJ wipes the clammy palms of his hands to the center of his sleeveless shirt, head met with the opening doors on the vehicle. You won’t peer at him, using your free hand to toy at the bottom of your shorts. He quips this statement in hopes to stifle that beautiful laughter that he knows so well, only to get a half smile in return.

You’re trying to hide it, lock it away, but nerves are striking and spreading within you tendfold. And he acknowledges it, you both do. Aware of existence prior, yet not taking that extra step. JJ really thought he’d done all the work he needed to do when he asked you to be his girlfriend, that was eating away at him enough then, so he’s a complete mess currently.

“A-are you okay?”

You clear your throat, if one of the Pogues were here you were sure they’d catch a case of second hand embarrassment. This is so affectionately painful.

“M’ just a little hot is all.”

You crane your neck in a shaking notion, he’s gained your attention, practically wanting to scream to the entire island of Kildare that you did. Progress would be made today, he was sure.

“We can go … inside, i-if you want?”

“No! Uh— fuck, I mean no I don’t want that, I wanna’ stay, here with you.”

JJ’s hand grasps at his forehead, swallowed in his edgy apprehensiveness. His frazzled affirmation has a plethora of butterflies swarming your insides, and while you’re ahead you want to keep looking at him. Keep studying and searching for the unsearchable. To know things about JJ that even he didn’t know about himself. His blonde locks are tousled in every direction, blue irises haunting you in anxiousness that you’ve got his gaze.

“Usually happens when m’with you.”

He’s hinting and his heart soars from the crinkle of your eyes brow, a small worry wrinkle in the middle. It is evident that the lovers are nervous but who would quiver to the temptation of saying so.

Tongue writhing in dryness, it’s like he’s lacking in saliva the way his mouth empties. He can’t form sentences properly with you near, and you can hardly look at him without getting flustered. Hell, it’s as if the dating portion never occurred, the needy glances resembled that of when the couple was pining for one another.

“I make you all sweaty?”

You voice chirped in innocence— the same innocence JJ admired the most. He desired to snap that innocence in half and make you fall apart for him and only him. Sickeningly enough though, the newness and anxiousness is forcing things to not be there yet.

“Always. Y’just make my cheeks real hot and-and s’like I forget get how to speak.”

And it’s true, you knock the breath from his lungs with your presence alone. The pinky adorning his hand is inchy closer to yours, it jabs at yours for a millisecond before he darts it back to join his own. Catching your eyeline, you take in his hands— calloused finger tips, a few scars on his knuckles that you have yet to know what from, veins prominent and blue, ring slightly scratched but shining nonetheless, nails grown out just a smidge with feathered pieces of skin picked out from the nails bed— it’s so invigorating to have a hand so large to your smaller one, the closest it’s ever gotten.

He can’t help but be intimidated, you dare him to put it back, to interlock each and every one of his fingers with yours.

Don’t get him started, having an urge to release all that he’s kept held back for the sake of ‘moving too fast’ or ‘being too much’ or ‘maybe you didn’t want that’ or how undeniably powerful the hold your insatiable charm has around his neck

“You’re nervous, J.” You confirm what he’s feeling, unsure if he doesn’t understand it or if he doesn’t care too, either way he wants to rip the bandaid off. “I get like that too— well I am right now.”

“Why didn’t you say anything then?

His question rings loudly inside your thoughts, when the question at hand should be— why haven’t either of you said anything.

“Didn’t wanna’ scare you off just yet.”

He grins, a shit eating grin— like the one he smiled when you said yes to dating him. So big, smile lines are forming and the hollow of his cheeks hurt from it. Both sets of to be in love eyes, peer back down at the hands, foreheads joining in touch— insides meshing every which way at the fire that’s about to ignite from only the intertwining of fingers.

“Is it okay if I hold your hand, pretty girl?” His speech is more confident and everlasting, nearing to over come this two month obstacle. You’re biting the insides of your mouth , and JJ is poking his tongue at his bottom lip in actual concentration.

The last thing he wanted was to make you regret hold his hand. Unbeknownst to him, you’d like to desperately kiss every knuckle and relish in him being yours.

“More than okay.”

His fingers dance with yours, itching for a spark that was there without even doing so. The hands tuck together so finitely, he holds it like he will never hold another hand again. With all he’s got, he squeezes in the assurance that this is the hand he wants intermixed with his for all of time. JJ initiates rising the hands up to meet between your shared breaths— mouths aching to be molded together. A turn of his wrist has the back of your hand near his mouth and you swore you could’ve died on the spot. It’s not forced, it’s not unfitting— no, they fit like they we made for eachother.

The back of your tiny hand meets with the cupids bow of his upper lip, concentrating on the skin, imagining it was your pair of lips. It’s one kiss, and it’s full of the unsaid— drawn out, afraid that if he let go he might get the courage to do it again. Saccharine, like the thickest honey, slow and sweet.

“C-can I kiss you now, baby?”

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sprout-fics · 1 year

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okay okay Thursday thot:

I need to know who of the 141 would go absolutely feral over seeing their pregnant partner. Like they’ve been gone on an extended mission and haven’t seen their bump yet and so when they see their partner and their pregnant belly their minds just go brrrrrr

Okay so this is less of a drabble and more of musings I suppose?

Gaz:

Gaz comes home and cries. Like he knew you were pregnant of course, only found out after he had deployed and you got a secure connection to him. He cries over the phone, too happy for words, can barely handle himself. Like fuck, he's going to be a dad. He cries and Price has to apologize for his blubbering and assure you it's a good thing, that the sergeant is too happy for words.

Then Gaz comes home and actually sees you and it hits home for him all over again. He tugs you into his arms, props you on the kitchen counter and stares at you like a man seeing the moon for the first time in his solitary life. Thanks whatever higher being exists for the miracle created between you and him. He's emotional, doting, and it isn't until those feelings settle later that he gets touchy

Rubbing at your shoulders and back until the knots come loose with a moan, props your feet in his lap and rubs at your swollen ankles, keeps you in his lap and feeds you while you both watch a movie, spoon you and drag you into his chest when you fall asleep. He's in love with you, with your body, with the weight and shape of the three of you combined.

This man worships you. Kisses you from your ankles up your thighs to your round stomach to your swelling breasts to your neck and mouth, whispers affirmations and praises until you want to hide in your hands and he only pulls them away, tell you "Let me see you, let me see how gorgeous you are."

Soap:

Soap hauls you into his arms the second he hears "I'm pregnant, Johnny." Whoops and hollers and cackles between kisses like someone has just told him he's won the lottery. He's always wanted a soccer team, and now you have your first player on the way. You don't get any rest that afternoon, not when he's made you shudder with your fifth and final orgasm on his fingers and tongue. It hurts when he has to leave after, before you even show, but he makes up for it when he comes back.

Man drops to his knees when he sees you next, talking to your child and bringing you to tears with how sweet and tender he is. Yet then he turns his attentions to you.

He won't stop touching you. Literally has to have his hands on you at all times. It's like his brain is hardwired to do so, literally only gets dopamine when he's crowded behind you in the kitchen, has you splayed across his lap, holds your hand wherever you two go. It's almost like a clingy cat, he'd shower with you if you'd let him, and instead he sits outside and grumbles when you push him out and tell him you need "Privacy."

"I already seen every part o' you." You gripes. "It's how I got the little one into you in the first place."

He's literally horny 24/7. Would live between your thighs f he had the choice. It's like he doesn't realize you can't get pregnant while you're already carrying a kid. You think there's a part of his brain that's fried just by the sight of you, can't help himself. This is the man that turns the phrase 'Irish twins' into 'Scottish twins'

Unpopular opinion:

Ghost and Price don't have this reaction. Price claims he's too old and grizzled and loves his job too much for kids, and it's true, but I also think there's a bitterness of the things that he's seen that drains him of any hope and yearning that his partner's pregnancy can summon in him.

Ghost, if he finds out you're pregnant, bolts. He's scared, even though he'll never say it. Thinks too much about his mom, about Tommy, about his dad's cackling sinister laughter and refuses to acknowledge it, shuts you out no matter how you try to coax him. Maybe someday, maybe somehow, but not now. Not soon.

#johnny soap mactavish #johnny soap mactavish x reader #gaz x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #kyle gaz garrick #thursday night thots #pregnancy tw

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anxiousnerdwritings · 1 year

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We seen Bruce's reaction to jokerized!twin but what about the rest of the family? did Damien feel guilty knowing that he had a hand in this?

Definitely! Damian feels utterly at fault for his sibling ending up in the clutches of Joker, he’ll never forgive himself for pushing his twin to this point.

After his time with Bruce and the rest of the Batfamily, Dick especially, Damian has calmed down and changed from how he used to be, in particularly regarding his thoughts on his sibling. He’s been guilt ridden ever since he came to terms with how terribly cruel he was to them and obsessing over how he could make it right and mend things with his twin, finally becoming the brother he should have been to them from the very beginning. But he doesn’t know how to find them, how to reach out and apologize for everything he’s put them through. Last he knew they were in Gotham but that was some time ago and they weren’t on the best of terms then, not to mention they’re last interaction was brutal so who’s to say his sibling didn’t just leave town and start anew somewhere else. Somewhere better.

But that doesn’t keep Damian from keeping an eye out for them, whether while out on patrol or while going about his day to day outside of his vigilante duties, hoping one day he’ll be lucky enough to find them again. That is until he actually does come face to face with them once more.

When he does meet the Reader again Damian is frozen with shock. Not only are they with Harley and Joker but they two clowns are also referring to his sibling as their bby. It’s too much for Damian to process in the moment. At first, he assumes that Joker and Harley have brainwashed his sibling into playing house with them and taking on the role of their child, but then his sibling tells him themself that they weren’t wanted anywhere else but Joker happily took them in. It’s on that moment that Damian realizes just how much he’s fucked up and how horribly he has ruined his own flesh and blood.

He can’t bring himself to acknowledge what they’re saying is true though, there’s no way they came to Joker willingly and took part in becoming like him. There’s no way. He won’t accept that. He can’t accept it. He wholeheartedly is under the belief that his sibling is brainwashed and has been taken advantage of against their will to play a part in Joker’s delusional fucked up version of a family. This only fuels Damian’s hatred towards the Clown Prince all the more, he’s taken something away from him, something he hadn’t ever appreciated enough to take for granted. He’s only recently realized how much he messed up and now the very thing he’s been working towards fixing is now being broken down even more by a psychotic clown.

It takes a everything, mainly Bruce and what other family members are there, to keep Damian from killing Joker right then. It certainly doesn’t help that his very own sibling is protect Joker and Harley so no one can get a hit on them without severely hurting or killing the Reader in the process. Damian has to be forcefully restrained as Joker, Harley and his sibling make a getaway. No matter how hard he tries to break free to give chase to get his twin back, he’s held in place probably even knocked out and taken back to the manor so everyone can regroup and plan out how to handle this situation.

It was already hard enough seeing his sibling along side Joker to begin with but seeing their paper white skin and the crazed look in their eye after they’ve been christened in a chemical bath is too much for him. Especially, if he was forced to witness them being submerged into the chemical vat himself. Damian wouldn’t be the same after that. How could he be? He watched helplessly and uselessly while his sibling was turned into a version of one of the most deranged individuals he’s ever known. And he couldn’t do anything to stop it.

Damian would vow to save his sibling, both from Joker and from themself. He won’t give up on them, he can’t. They need him more than ever now and he’ll fight tooth and nail to bring them home where they belong, with him and their father (as well as the batfamily). Even if he has to break Bruce’s rules to do so. He has a lot to work toward with them, even more now than ever but he’ll make it happen. Damian will be there for them, he won’t stop until their safe and by his side where they should have been all along. He won’t let anything come between him getting his twin back, not even his own mother.

#anxious answers #yandere damian wayne #yandere dc #yandere dc concept #yandere concept

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forest-hashira · 4 months

Text

Noble Blood - Chapter Two

hello everyone! i really didn't think i'd have chapter two of this finished & posted so quickly, but i was feeling motivated, apparently, so here you go! some dragon rider au to start off your new year. if you haven't read chapter one, you can find it right here.

cw: gender neutral reader, more little kid shenanigans (sneaking out of the house), here there be dragons!!! | wc: 2.4k | read on ao3 here

Things were normal at first after Satoru’s birthday celebration. You still spent your mornings in the one-room schoolhouse with Shoko, Utahime, and Kento, learning reading, writing, math, and history from Utahime’s mother, while Satoru attended his own lessons at home with private tutors. You spent your afternoons running around the settlement with your friends, getting into mischief if Satoru was with you, playing games or running errands if he wasn’t.

After the night of the fireworks show, you often found yourself sneaking off to the peach orchard to stargaze on the observation deck. Most nights Satoru would be there already, staring up at the stars, acknowledging you only with a smile as you sat with him, pressed up together to share body heat as your breaths puffed out in white clouds before you.

The two of you spent many nights together like that, at first just silently observing the stars, though eventually he began to point out constellations to you and tell you their names; his favorite was Draco, yours was Hydra. You loved that he decided to share that knowledge with you, but it made you wonder what else his tutors were teaching him that you weren’t learning in your own lessons.

You quickly grew accustomed to this new routine – even found that you looked forward to the nights where you would be able to slip out of the house unnoticed – but the comfort you’d found in those stolen moments was shattered within a few short weeks.

Word had begun to spread through the settlement that there was a clutch of dragon eggs on the Gojo estate, and it was expected it was only a matter of days before they hatched. You had heard the rumor from a shopkeeper in town – who no doubt had heard it from someone who worked for the Gojo clan – and decided to ask your friend if it was true.

“It is,” he told you that night, his eyes sparkling with more than starlight. “It’s only two eggs this time, which is small even for our family’s dragons.”

“Are your parents going to take you to see them once they hatch?” Children didn’t typically start meeting hatchling dragons until they turned ten, but you thought maybe things were different for prestigious families like Satoru’s.

“No,” he sighed. “In fact, they’ve told me multiple times that I’m not to go anywhere near the roost.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m not old enough.”

That seemed like a perfectly logical reason to you, but it was clear that Satoru wasn’t satisfied with it, and you knew him well enough to know he was most likely going to ignore his parents’ direct instructions.

“I’m going to sneak in to see them after they hatch.”

You let out a heavy sigh. “Of course you are.”

“You should come with me.”

That caught you off guard, and you stared at him dumbly. “...What?”

“You should come with me to see the hatchlings.” He tilted his head slightly as he looked at you, awaiting an actual response. “Don’t you want to see a baby dragon up close?”

“I-I mean, yeah, but wouldn’t we get in trouble?”

He just shrugged. “I’m not worried about it. They’ve never really punished me before.”

“But they might punish me if we get caught.”

His brows furrowed in confusion, and he frowned slightly. “Why would they do that?”

“Because I’d be breaking into their estate uninvited!”

“But I’m inviting you right now.”

You stared at each other for a few long moments then, his blue eyes searching your face for something, but you weren’t sure what.

“I don’t think your parents would count this as an actual invitation to the estate,” you said eventually, uncertain how else to get the point across to him. “All they would care about is me being there when I’m not supposed to be.”

“...So you’re not going to come with me?” He looked so disappointed you felt like you might cry, but still you shook your head.

“No,” you agreed. “I’m sorry, Satoru.”

He said nothing in response, just looked away, his focus on the stars again, like it was every night before this one. You shuffled closer, resting your head on his shoulder and closing your eyes; for a moment, you could pretend that this was any other night you’d spent stargazing with him, and that you didn’t feel a little sick knowing you’d upset one of your best friends.

You didn’t see Satoru at all the next day, and he wasn’t on the observation deck that night when you arrived; the idea of staying up there alone after how you’d left things with your friend the night before just made you sad, so you’d gone straight home.

The next day, however, the snowy haired boy was waiting outside the schoolhouse. He called your name as you stepped out of the building, reaching out and grabbing your arm, pulling you aside and looking down at you with wide eyes.

“They hatched,” he said, and you knew exactly what he was talking about. “It was early this morning. I’m going to see them tonight.”

His tone was hushed and secretive, the words tripping over each other as they tumbled past his lips. It was then that you noticed how flushed his face was, his cheeks and nose and even the tips of his ears a bright red, despite the coat and scarf he wore.

After a moment, you realized he was trying one last time to get you to join him in sneaking off to see the hatchlings, without saying the words out loud. Your throat felt tight, suddenly, and you couldn’t bear the thought of letting him down again, so after a moment of hesitation, you nodded.

“I’ll meet you by the sakura tree in your courtyard,” you told him quietly. “If I’m not there by ten, my parents caught me, so just go without me.”

Satoru’s face lit up at your words, and he nodded, giving your arm a light squeeze. The gesture seemed to lift a weight from your heart, and you smiled at him. Even if this “plan” wasn’t well thought out and would likely spell nothing but trouble for the two of you, you couldn’t ignore the excitement already rushing through your veins; you were going to see hatchlings up close for the first time, and you were thrilled.

Unfortunately, that excitement was rather short-lived. Your parents, who usually turned in early at night, decided to stay up much later than you expected, sitting in the main room by the fireplace, sharing a warm drink and talking quietly to each other. You sat at your door the entire time, gaze flitting between your parents and the clock above the fireplace through the gap between the door and the doorframe, your hopes of sneaking out unnoticed dwindling with every passing minute.

Eventually, the clock struck ten, and you climbed into your bed. The deadline you’d set to meet Satoru had come, and you knew even if your parents went to bed now, there was no chance you’d be able to make it to the sakura tree to meet your friend before he left to see the hatchlings on his own.

Finding sleep was difficult after that, an uneasy feeling having settled in your gut, though you didn’t know why.

There was no sign of Satoru for days after the night he’d snuck in to see the hatchlings, and the uneasy feeling you’d developed grew into something sickening, your stomach churning every time you thought about what might’ve happened to him. Had he gotten caught sneaking out and gotten punished for once in his life? Had the mother dragon deemed him a threat and attacked him when he’d gotten too close to her brood? Had some even worse fate than punishment or injury befallen him?

The worry kept you up at night, tossing and turning, hoping you would see your friend again soon, and that he would complain about being grounded and confined to his chambers before telling you about the hatchlings. But none of that ever happened.

Instead, four days after your failed rendezvous, you received a summons to the Gojo estate.

A messenger from the family arrived at your house one morning, knocking on the door and telling your mother your presence was requested.

“They can go after school,” she said, and made to close the door before she was stopped.

“I’m sorry, but I’m afraid the young master is insisting on seeing them right away.”

Your mother glanced down at you where you’d begun to hover beside her, and after holding your gaze for a moment, she sighed. “We’ll be ready in a moment, just let us get our coats.”

The messenger looked a bit uncomfortable, a grimace on his face as he spoke. “Only your child has been invited. No one else is to accompany them, I’m afraid. Gojo-sama’s orders,” he rushed to add, when your mother seemed to grow indignant.

“I’ll be okay,” you told her, reaching up to take her hand for a moment. “I’ve been to see him before without anyone else.”

Your mother’s gaze was uncertain as she looked down at you once again, her features pinched together with worry, but eventually she nodded, dropping her shoulders and forcing herself to relax. “You’re right,” she sighed, giving a slight shake of her head as she turned away from the door, taking your coat from the hook it hung on and handing it to you. “Come straight home when you’re finished, alright?”

You nodded, pulling on your coat and promising to return after your visit with Satoru. You stepped outside then, walking with the messenger as he led the way back to the Gojo estate. The whole time, your mind raced with possibilities about why you’d been summoned to the estate, rather than Satoru just coming to see you himself, which he’d always seemed to prefer in the past. You were so lost in your thoughts, in fact, that you failed to notice you had reached the estate until you were being ushered through the front gates.

“Do you know your way through the house?” the messenger asked.

You looked up at him dumbly for a moment, then nodded, once you’d processed his question.

He nodded back slightly. “Then I will let you continue on your own. The young master is refusing to see anyone but you.”

You nodded again, turning away and walking towards the main house, though all you could think was Why won’t he see anyone else? Removing your shoes in the genkan almost as an afterthought, you stepped fully into the house, heading down the hallway you knew led to Satoru’s chambers.

It didn’t take long to reach his door, and you knocked lightly on the wooden frame. “Satoru?” you called. “It’s me.”

“Come in!” he called back, and after a beat of hesitation, you turned the knob and pushed the door open.

“Close it behind you,” Satoru siad, his voice coming from the other side of the room, behind the privacy screen that separated his bed from the rest of the room. You did as you were asked, pushing the door shut until it clicked before crossing the room to reach your friend.

“Satoru, I’ve been so worried about you! What happened with the hatch—”

The words died in your throat as you stepped around the privacy screen, only to be greeted by the sight of Satoru perched cross-legged in the middle of his bed, the smallest dragon you’d ever seen curled up in his lap, sound asleep.

A pure white dragon.

All you could do was stare for several long moments, trying to process what you were seeing: Satoru, with a dragon – a single color dragon, at that – but it just didn’t make sense. It was still at least two years before you or any of your friends would be old enough to start visiting hatchlings and eventually meet your destined dragons.

“Is it… is that your dragon?” you eventually managed to ask, tearing your eyes away from the creature to meet your friend’s gaze.

Satoru nodded, unable to suppress his grin. “Yeah, he is. His name is Kenji.”

“How did this even happen?”

“What do you mean?”

“How did you bond with him? I didn’t even think we were old enough for that to happen.”

Your friend shrugged. “Guess I’m just special.” Though his words were smug, you caught the teasing lilt in his voice, and you laughed softly despite yourself.

“You’re certainly something,” you agreed, teasing him right back. “Is this why you haven’t left the estate in days?”

“Yeah. My parents keep telling me the first week is really important for bonding with him. But he just sleeps all the time.” His bottom lip stuck out slightly in a pout, and you shook your head slightly, stepping closer and settled on the edge of his bed.

“But you have your dragon now, and you might be the youngest person ever to bond with their dragon,” you pointed out. “That’s pretty cool.”

That seemed to cheer him up some, his pout melting back into a smile.

“Does this mean you’ll start your training soon?”

“I think so,” he said. “But I’m pretty sure my parents are sending for a special trainer, so I don’t know when he’ll get here.”

The two of you sat and talked for a bit longer, and you felt as if a weight had been lifted from your shoulders; the sickening, uneasy feeling disappeared, as well, eased by the knowledge that your friend was alright, just dealing with a big change.

After a while there was a lull in the conversation, and you knew it was probably time for you to return home. You weren’t sure how long you’d sat with Satoru, but you had a feeling it had been longer than you thought.

“I’ll see you later, Satoru. Don’t stay locked up in here too much longer, okay?”

“As soon as my parents let me out I’ll see you every day,” Satoru promised, and you knew he meant it with his whole heart.

You smiled, feeling light with relief. “I can’t wait,” you said, then dropped your gaze back to the dragon in your friend’s lap; he was still sound asleep. “Bye, Kenji,” you added quietly, standing from the bed and waving to the pair before you left the room.

Satoru had his dragon now. You weren’t entirely sure what that meant for you or the rest of your friends, but you were sure of one thing: your lives were all about to change.

i hope you guys are enjoying reading this as much as i'm enjoying writing it! as always, reblogs & likes are always appreciated!!! they keep my writer heart full and motivated to keep writing things for people to read 💜 ALSO HAPPY YEAR OF THE DRAGON EVERYBODY!!!

tagging: @ghost-1-y @kentohours @whatthefucksatan @why-the-fuck-am-i-so-tired @mitsuristoleme @lu-dao-writes @peachdues @lik0 @deepestartisanhumanoidshark @here-for-the-tea-baby

if your URL is crossed out, it's because tumblr wouldn't let me tag you, i apologize!

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moonlessdusk · 4 months

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Why the MKulia alliance was formed and how it’s so effective (analysis part 3)

Okay now I’m talking about the actual alliance. I’m basically just going to go episode by episode here, touching on points for how they managed to keep each other in the game and why they’ve managed to effectively fly under the radar despite being so threatening together.

So jumping back in to the formation in episode 1 of season 2, MK says:

“And I hope you have a plan in case Bowie only picked you so he and the hockey bros could make you first voted off the island.”

And Julia’s response? She hadn’t even thought of that. This just adds evidence to my argument in part 1 that Julia has a major problem with being short sighted. Meanwhile MK’s plans may be sloppy in execution (something I’ll get back to later) but she plans for the long term. Julia acknowledges this weakness in her strategy.

Now MK could’ve kept this to herself or not taken her comment anywhere but she says “Then I guess I’m helping already,” which is effectively her extending an olive branch to someone who is in a situation where no one else is willing to place their trust in her. And just from looking at who’s on her team, Julia can’t trust Bowie and the hockey bros to not double cross her again (she said so in her walk of shame), nor can she expect any reliability out of Scary Girl, Ripper, or Chase. Thus, her eagerness to form the alliance.

Why would MK be so eager to join? Well, this could be a weakness that was retconned in given her performance on the obstacle course last season, but this season really hammers in how MK is the smallest and least athletic of of the cast:

And we know from her confessionals that Julia’s capacity to be physically aggressive is something MK greatly appreciates:

The way that this alliance has functionally worked as of episode 8 is that the two of them play to their strengths from last season: MK comes up with the plans to cheat and and meta game the challenges while Julia executes things MK can’t physically do with ruthless efficiency while also handling the social game. MK gets a hold of the intern uniform by the end of episode 2 and the scheming goes on until the merge.

Julia’s been doing well the first two episodes but she’s been relying on her brute force method and trying to be a team player. Admittedly, not a great idea in episode 2 specifically considering if they lose anyway, Bowie would still get her out and it’s not a good idea to draw attention to herself. MK’s face here kinda says as much:

She kinda lucked out on having bad teammates of Scary Girl and Chase.

Episode 3 is when the intern plan is put in to use and MK plants the sap remover and bucket of sap just off the the trail to avoid the actual challenge. It also seems to have been her idea to sabotage the other team, knowing that the Rats still have the numbers to beat them. So they spend the rest of the messing with the other team after Bowie gives the okay.

Exactly who they target, what they use, and how they went about it seemed to have been squarely Julia’s idea, which MK praises Julia for. Ultimately the plan does work and Caleb becomes too exhausted to carry his team across the line in time.

MK only gets a chekhov's gun out of the intern briefing in episode 4. In a turn based knowledge challenge, Julia kinda takes a backseat but still has something to do. While realizing the answers must be locked in, sneaking off to the production trailer for the answer, then using hot sign was all MK’s idea, Julia still came up with an excuse on the spot to cover for MK and not make Chris or the other competitors ask more questions for why she’s gone for so long.

This is basically like if what MK did in capture the skull last season actually worked out for her. Great idea to sneak off on meta the game but only possible if she had an ally to vouch for her. Emma did know what she did last season but wasn’t really an ally for MK because she was too wrapped up in her plot with Chase.

Episode 5 makes use of the chekhov's gun wireless hairdryer and MK finding a map of the challenge’s maze. On top of this, she was already thinking one step ahead and brought ice skates to distract the hockey bros.

We get to see Julia working her social game this episode by blackmailing Bowie. Revealing to Raj and Wayne how he lied to them and cheated in the previous challenge effectively sets up a situation where Julia has more room to work with for voting. What she’s probably trying to do is split the trio’s vote, giving her and MK voting power in the likely event they can convince Ripper to vote with them.

Julia and MK both having the idea to hide the other team’s coin is a solid idea but what follows is… shenanigans? Rather than continuing with the argument between Raj and Bowie, they throw a snowball at Julia? Like, it’s on brand for Julia to drop what she’s doing and retaliate, which I assume is why the hairdryer was given to her when MK was just holding it. In character but still kinda odd, logically.

Julia also unnecessarily puts a target on her back by revealing she’s the reason Nichelle left the game. MK was also sloppy with how she put back Chris’ hairdryer. I know narratively the reason this is done is so they can be kept apart the next episode but I feel like Julia wouldn’t have done this if MK was there to stop her and remind her to think ahead instead of having a moment of gratification.

In episode 6, the teams merge and MK and Julia are still in an advantageous position and Bowie acknowledges it. This is the episode Chris ours MK as a cheater to everyone else and MK is basically out of commission the whole episode.

Neither of them win immunity but more importantly, Bowie doesn’t either. Julia says she told the former Rats that the cheating was Bowie’s idea, and between insulting Axel and Damien, plus a vote from Ripper, and Priya likely still being mad at Bowie over last season (and Caleb likely voting with her), this was a very clever and opportunistic way to swing the votes away from her alliance partner.

Episode 7 creates a more dire situation for the alliance because it splits them up, whereas Chris kept literally every other alliance together. Julia is teamed with the hockey bros, which gives her a lose-lose situation where in she’s the most likely to be voted off if she doesn’t win immunity but if she does, her biggest adversaries also stick around. This is what her and MK’s confessional is essentially laying out.

Further complicating things is that team 1 are four friends that would definitely vote with the hockey bros and them winning immunity would put them in a tough spot where if it’s not one of the two, it’ll be one of their pseudo alliance partners Ripper or Axel, and they just lose more voting power.

There isn’t a discussion that we see about it but the initial plan seemed to be to create a situation where team 1 can’t win. Thus we see the two of them target the most threatening members on team 1: Caleb and Priya.

Later in the challenge, Julia’s impulsiveness basically forces herself in a situation where she can’t afford to lose after she sabotaged team 1. Realistically at that point, cutting their losses and convincing team 1 to eliminate Axel was really the only thing the two of them could do because the hockey bros would’ve voted for MK and team 1 would’ve voted together. It’s more beneficial for Mkulia to keep Ripper’s semi-loyalty to them and he is competent in challenges when he’s not distracted by Axel. Even if Julia was already avoiding MK at this point because guilt from her sabotage, that’s still at least 5 votes against Axel vs 2 for MK and the remaining 3 from her, Ripper, and Axel don’t matter. Of course, Ripper is eliminated too so Mkulia are on their own again but I can see what they were going for.

Episode 8 is interesting because it sets an implication for how the Mkulia alliance is more covert than we see most post-merge alliances, with Caleb and Priya being a good contrast to what I mean. (And I’m skipping over “the Owen thing”, I have a different analysis on that.)

This is the first time we have a challenge where there’s nothing to stop them from helping each other and yet Julia only stops for a moment to shout “Hurry it up, girl,” at MK with MK shouting back that she’s trying while she struggles to even drag the coin. That’s the only interaction they have the whole challenge. Given their reaffirmation earlier that they’re a good team, this looks kind of cold for Julia, but I think that appearance is intentional.

Consider how Caleb and Priya have openly been helping each other and everyone knows that they’ve been trying to find the immunity idol together. I’ve glossed over it until now but Priya has also been in danger of being eliminated since the merge and between constant bad ideas, being the reigning champion, and working with the strongest person on the island, she has a target on her back, possibly bigger than Julia’s at this point considering she hasn’t won immunity or even runner up yet.

I think that the two of them are trying to hide their alliance to not get targeted. Like sure, they interact with each other between challenges but alliances usually explicitly help each other during challenges. Them just looking friendly to each other doesnt raise any more suspicion that it would claiming Damien is working with Priya, which we know he isn’t because he hasn’t told her about the idol. I think that gives Mkulia room for doubt with only the hockey bros actually knowing what they’re doing.

This also explains the lack of urgency Julia has with winning immunity. She has one confessional where she contemplates getting the secret out of Zee or going for immunity, initially thinking she’s get both but she ultimately zeros in on Zee, as evident by her score staying the same all game.

At first I just thought this was her being impulsive but it’s actually a case of her playing the social game because even if spilling the secret doesn’t get Zee out, the Priya and Caleb alliance still falls and directs attention away from her and MK.

Meanwhile MK gets to fly under the radar this episode. She’s second to last to get to the pinball and even though she immediately figures out the advantage, her small size and lack of fitness once again leads her to getting walled. So she’s not even considered a big threat and doesn’t need immunity.

So with Zee out of the game and a target on Caleb’s back, my prediction is that Caleb gets immunity next episode just to drag out the drama, then the vote bounces to Damien as the next most threatening on account of winning solo immunity once and doing solid the other two times. He’d then play his idol, which would bounce the votes that do count to Raj. He’s the more competent of the hockey bros and Mkulia’s priority should be breaking them up with Priya and Caleb imploding on its own.

As long as Mkulia is able to break the pairs in these next two episodes, they’ve basically paved their way to the finale. If they pull it off successfully, their alliance truly will be the most efficient and successful one in the series.

#can you Tell I’ve scrambled to finish this before monday #mkulia #td mk #td julia #total drama 2023 #total drama reboot #total drama julia #total drama mk #total drama spoilers

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