#the biggest 'his gaze softened' to have ever 'his gaze softened'-ed

[ten-simm]

"I wonder what I'd be without you"

[reddieandgoodnight]

@tinyarmedtrex​, here’s that #12 kissing prompt I promised you! With the trailer today, my mind kept returning here and to how I wish things could be. *sigh* Enjoy, y’all. <333

12.  a hoarse whisper “kiss me”

“Here! Here, have some of this!” Eddie screams, shoving his arm into and triggering his aspirator straight down It’s throat, down into its black, degenerate core, where all the evil, vile things of Derry live. Then comes the sudden, horrendous pain as Its jaws snap shut. His arm — it’s gone, ripped right off a bit below his shoulder.

It hurts so bad, he can’t even scream, can’t do anything but collapse to the floor, spraying blood into the dank water around them. Everything feels far away and unimportant as his life seeps from him into the Derry sewers, everything washing away like rubbing dirt off of grimy windows, until —

“—Eds—"

Eddie Kaspbrak’s eyes snap open. His breathing sounds ragged in his ears, sweat sliding down his temples. For a horrible moment, he has no idea where he is, just how bad his arm —

His arm.

He lifts his head to look down at his right arm. Or…where most of his right arm had been. Now there’s an empty space. Just…nothing. A few inches of skin below his shoulder. And then nothing.

Eddie lets his head drop back to the pillow. He’d been so sure he was dead. How could someone feel that much pain and not be dead?

He carefully sits up, using his left arm to push himself to a sitting position. He winces at the terrible stinging ravaging his right shoulder, clearly unhappy to have had its accompanying limb taken away and then to have him moving about.

The room he’s in is plain, only containing a desk, a bookshelf, and the bed where he sits, swaddled under a thick quilt. The wooden walls tell him nothing of where he is.

He can hear a television somewhere beyond the room, volume quiet as though whomever is watching doesn’t want to wake him. “Hello?” he asks. No answer.

Slowly, so slowly, Eddie pushes back the blanket and swings his feet to the floor. A strange heat rushes through him, wanting to drag him back down into the darkness. He blinks black spots out of his vision. Goddamn, if it can just stop hurting a little, that would be great…

He stands, hating the way his legs shake under him. But he has to know what’s happening.

The trip to the door and then into the hall feels like the longest few minutes of his life. He’s never thought anything of running, jumping, dancing (if Myra had felt like putting a Barry Manilow record on), or anything of the sort — at least, not since he was younger and stopped worrying about such things. But now the tiniest of movements makes him feel faint. He supposes that’s just what happens when a person loses a limb. At least for a while.

He pads slowly down the hall, toward the sound of the television. The hall opens up on a living room. And on the couch, facing away from Eddie, sits Richie Tozier.

“—Eds—”

Eddie stumbles a little, pressing his left palm against the wall for balance.

Richie startles, turning around to fix Eddie with a worried gaze. His dark hair is a mess, frizzed up around the back of his head where he’s been leaning against the couch. The dark circles under his eyes look almost black, deep and bruised looking enough to stand out even around his thick glasses.

He looks so tired. Eddie’s heart hurts to see it.

“Eddie,” Richie breathes. “What are you — Do you need something? You shouldn’t be out of bed!” He jumps up. “What do you need? Food? You haven’t really eaten anything… I mean, besides that shit at the hospital, but it doesn’t even count if it’s coming through a tube. You should probably take more of your meds, too, damn —”

“Richie?” Eddie whispers.

Richie shuts up at the sound of Eddie’s voice, just looking at him with that distressing worry.

“I’m — what happened? Where are we?” Eddie asks. He feels a little dizzy. He blinks, noticing Richie is suddenly standing next to him. When did that happen?

“Hey, come sit down,” Richie murmurs, a gentle hand against Eddie’s back. He helps Eddie sit on the couch, sinking down next to him. “We’re at Mike’s. He and Bill went out for some stuff, should be back in a bit. Audra’s in the other room.”

“Oh,” Eddie says. Bill and Mike. “How…how are we at Mike’s?”

Richie peers at him. “What’s the last thing you remember?”

“My arm…losing my arm…”

Richie blanches at his words.

“But…wait.” Eddie feels so fuzzy, but this is important. “What about… Where—?”

“It’s dead.”

Eddie looks up at him, at the way Richie’s jaw clenches. At the slight stubble on his pale face. “…for good this time?”

“For good.”

Eddie nods, a terrible relief rushing through him.

“We carried you out,” Richie continues, staring down at his scraped-up hands resting in his lap. “Me and Ben. It…It ripped your fucking arm off, Eds.” His hands clench. “I thought you were going to bleed out. Bev managed to…stop the blood. At least until we got you out of the sewer to the hospital.” A pause. “The whole town’s gone to hell, you know? Like a fucking bomb went off. Main Street just fuckin’…split open. Like a mouth or something. It’s…shit, man. I don’t even know.” He rubs at his forehead, like a headache is brewing.

“I’m not surprised,” Eddie says. And he isn’t. Derry was always made of monsters. It’s poetic in a way that one of its monsters, the biggest of all, is the cause of its essential death.

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” Richie murmurs, looking up at Eddie. “I’m just…I don’t know what I would have done —”

Eddie only has one hand. The best thing he can think to do with it is to take Richie’s into his own.

Richie’s voice cuts off immediately. And then he grips Eddie’s hand so tightly, Eddie’s pretty sure it’ll bruise.

But Eddie doesn’t mind at all.

He marvels a little at the feel of Richie’s hand in his. It’s rough, callused. And it feels so much better against his than Myra’s ever did.

Myra. He winces at the thought of her.

“What’s wrong?” Richie asks. He’s always been perceptive when it comes to Eddie; now is no different.

“I’m just…thinking about Myra,” Eddie says. He notices Richie stiffen next to him.

“Do you miss her?” Richie is trying so hard to sound like he doesn’t care. Eddie can’t help but smile, just a little.

“No, I…I’m thinking about divorce papers.”

“…oh?” A bit of hope.

“If it was up to me, I’d never talk to her again,” Eddie says. He hesitates. “Does that make me a terrible person?”

“Well, why don’t you want to talk to her?”

“…because she’s just like my mother.”

Now that their memories of Derry have returned, Richie doesn’t have to ask what that means. He frowns, looking at Eddie. “Then I completely understand.” His sudden grin makes Eddie laugh.

“I didn’t mean to do that,” Eddie says. “It was just…easier.”

“Yeah, well. I think we’ve all made some pretty stupid mistakes when it comes to matters of the heart. Or of the body. Sex, I mean.”

“Jesus, Richie, I know,” Eddie says, shaking his head a little ruefully.

He gazes at their still-linked hands, liking how Richie’s is a little bigger than his.

“Did you ever want to get married?” he asks suddenly.

“Nah.” The answer comes at once. “No one was ever really right, you know? Or maybe…no one else really compared. Even if I didn’t know why.”

Eddie’s mouth feels dry as Richie looks up to stare at him. His hand tightens around Richie’s fingers, and Richie grips his back.

“Eds, I’m sorry,” Richie whispers.

“For what?” Eddie doesn’t know if it’s the proximity or the pain medication making him feel faint.

“I didn’t mean to forget you. It just…happened, I guess.”

“I know. It’s not like any of us meant to.”

“I just needed you to hear it,” Richie says, voice plaintive. “If I could have remembered even just one of the Losers…I would have chosen you.”

Eddie nods, throat tight. He thinks about all the glances he and Richie had been sharing over these past several days in Derry. Those ones that made him wonder if Richie could maybe see right into his soul.

Sometimes Richie would lick his lips a little as he stared, and Eddie thought death would come from the sweet heat rushing through Eddie’s veins. The heat of recognition and longing.

And now, Richie looks at him again. But it’s somehow more than before. There’s something so heartbreakingly sweet in Richie’s big brown eyes. That look makes him feel so small, but then…maybe Richie feels that way, too.

“I wish I’d remembered you, too,” Eddie says. He smiles at the tears in Richie’s eyes. They’re in his, too, after all. He laughs — a sad, wet sound. “Maybe you could have kept me from marrying my mother.”

Richie barks a laugh at that. “I dunno, my boy. Nothing stands between a boy and his mother. Except for an Oedipus complex, of course.”

“Beep beep, you asshole,” Eddie says, rolling his eyes. He’s smiling, so the words sound more like something else.

He leans more heavily against the back of the couch as another wave of dizziness sweeps through him.

“Are you all right?” Richie asks, concern lacing his words.

“I think I’m just tired.”

“Come on. Let’s get you back in bed. Bill and Mike will kick my ass if I let you actually die. And Ben and Bev, too. They’re at the hotel, but they’ll know.”

But Eddie tightens his grip on Richie’s hand before Richie can stand up. “Wait.”

“What is it, Eds?”

“Is this…is this all in my head?” he asks.

Richie gazes at him. “Eddie, of course it isn’t. It never was.”

“I love you, Richie,” Eddie murmurs. If a few tears run down his cheeks, Richie has the good grace not to say anything for once.

“And I love you.” Richie says it so earnestly; it can’t be anything but the truth. “I think… I think I always did, even if I couldn’t remember. I was serious when I said all the girls — and some boys, let’s be honest —”

Eddie smiles, knowing.

“None of them compared to you, Eds. Not a damn one of them.” Richie grins, and it’s like coming home.

“Richie?”

“Yeah, babe?”

“Kiss me?” he whispers hoarsely.

Richie’s gaze softens to something so warm, Eddie could melt from it. And when Richie leans forward and down to press their lips together, he does.

The kiss starts off light and tender, like butterfly wings, but soon deepens to fervent and intimate. Richie tastes a bit like cigarettes and candy, and it’s as perfect as Eddie had imagined it so many times when they were kids. The sweet, clean smell of Richie’s skin. The feel of Richie’s hand cupping his face, thumb lightly tracing lines between his freckles, the other hand still gripping Eddie’s.

Richie is gentle as he licks into Eddie’s mouth — and Eddie lets him, cherishing the velvety feel of Richie’s tongue against his.

Eddie is breathless when Richie pulls back to lean their foreheads together.

“I’ve wanted to do that for so long,” Richie says, panting just a little as they rest against each other.

“I missed you,” Eddie whispers when he feels like he can talk again.

“I missed you too, Eds. So, so much.”

“Will you…stay with me?”

“Always.”

[tr4shmouth-tozi3r]

Just let me help you - reddie

requested: yes, get ready for the fluff anon

summary: We all know Eddie is a complete germaphobe and we also know Richie is the type of boy who doesn’t wash his hair for four days. How did these boys ever fall in love? One day, Eddie has an accident when the Losers run into the Bowers gang and yes, there are lots of germs and anxiety and mouth breathing bullies, so Richie offers to help Eddie. “Just let me help you, for fuck sake, Eds.” “Since when did you grow a heart, asshole? DON’T TOUCH ME, RICHIE!”

pairing: richie tozier x eddie kaspbrak 

warnings: swearing, bullying, slight physical assault bc henry and his goons are deranged assholes so, and loooooads of reddie fluff so be careful u might die:’)

-

“So, do you guys think they’re ever gonna shut up?” Mike asked the rest of his friends as they all stood still, all of their eyes glued to the two boys before them. They watched as the pair bickered with each other. They all wondered if the two ever got tired of it. 

“Well, not until one of them admits they’re in love with the other. So, I guess that means never.” Stan joked, but the losers all knew it was true. These boys were madly in love and showed their love for each other in the ugliest of ways. Society was such a cruel thing. 

“Oh boy, did you hit that nail right on the head or what?” Bev scoffed with a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips.

“Listen, Eds-”

“Do not call me that, Tozier! How many goddamn fucking times do I have to tell you that!?” The smaller boy yelled in frustration as he gripped his fanny pack in one hand while he wagged his finger at the taller boy with his other hand. Eddie would never admit it, but God did he love that nickname.

The taller boy laughed, a shit eating grin adorning his face as he pushed his thick rimmed glasses up the bridge of his nose and ran his hand through a knot forming in his tight black curls.

Richie loved to tease Eddie. He loved to get a rise out of the smaller boy. He would never admit that he loved the way Eddie would huff at him in anger and his face would heat up instantly and he would let himself get so worked up over every little thing Richie would do to him. He loved having that control over him. He loved him. 

“It was a fucking accident, chill. How come you weren’t this mad when you saw me leaving your house last night after I fucked your mom? C’mon man, priorities.” Richie scolded the boy playfully, a smirk on his face and his head shaking disapprovingly.  

“Alright, that’s it! THAT’S IT!” Eddie threw his hands up in the air as he turned on his heel and hastily picked his bike up. He tried his hardest to hide the smile threatening to come across his lips. He wouldn’t dare to let Richie know he enjoyed this shit. Richie laughed loudly as he voiced his not so sorry apology. He glanced at their friends and shrugged in amusement and they all rolled their eyes knowingly.

“D-D-Do th-they suh-seriously think that w-w-w-we don’t kn-know?” Bill asked with a giggle.

“Don’t know what?” Richie sauntered over to the group and threw a glance back at Eddie who was about to take off and he secretly hoped he wouldn’t.

“Noth-“ Ben went to elaborate and was quickly cut short.

“Hey, queer boy.”

“Uh oh.” Ben whispered.

They all turned and watched as Henry and his goons circled around Eddie, who at this point was stood still on his bike supporting himself on one leg with his other foot hovering over one of the pedals. His body was stiff and his arms began to tremble as his anxiety rose through him.

“Hey, shit bag, leave him alone!” Richie’s expression hardened and he stepped forward slightly.

“Richie, don’t.” Eddie’s shaky voice called out.

“Aw, how sweet. Your little boyfriend thinks he can save you. How silly.” Henry’s shrill laugh made them all cringe.

“Bowers, back off.” Mike spat the words so harshly that Henry’s head snapped towards them.

“I suggest you back off, blackie.”

“Alright, applause to the biggest douchebag around. So you’re an asshole and you’re racist. You must have a great resumè.” Richie just didn’t know when to shut up apparently. Henry looked at his friends, nodding his head toward the group. Patrick and Belch walked in their direction, knocking Richie down in the process and his glasses right off of his face.

“Look at you, losers. How pathetic are you? The little nerdy gay boy is the only one with balls? Ha.” Henry spoke to them, but his gaze stayed upon Eddie as he made eye contact with the boy and each word dripped with hostility.

Richie quickly grabbed his spectacles and took the hem of his hawaiian button up, wiping at the lenses rather quickly. He couldn’t see and if he couldn’t see that meant he was vulnerable and Richie couldn’t stand that, “Fuck you, dickwad!” He scrambled to his feet, only to be yoked up by Patrick by the collar of his shirt.

“Come on, Bowers. Leave him alone. Afraid to pick on one of us instead? You’ve been targeting Eddie quite alot lately. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were the queer boy here.” Beverly crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow.

“Shut your whore mouth, bitch. Don’t make me shove my cock down your throat, again.” He seethed through gritted teeth and Beverly’s face fell.

“We all know Beverly wouldn’t let you touch her with a ten foot pole, keep dreaming.” Stan cackled and instantly shut his mouth and flinched away as Belch threw himself forward at the boy, laughing at his scared reaction.

Henry was fuming at this point and so he shoved Eddie over. The small boy tumbled to the ground below, splitting his knee open in the process.

“Eddie!” Richie pounded on Patrick’s chest. The older boy’s hold didn’t let up, though.

“Fuck, fuck!” Eddie gulped and reached for his fanny pack, suddenly feeling a wave of anxiety wash over him. My mom will never let me outside again if she sees this shit, he thought. He took notice of the dirt coating his wound and instantly his throat felt like it was closing in on him.

Germs. Infections. Death.

“I’ll take that.” Henry snatched his fanny pack from his reach.

“Hey, asshole, he needs his inhaler, what the fuck? So you kill little kids, too!?” Richie shouted over Patrick’s shoulder. He watched as Eddie struggled to breathe.

“Shut the fuck up, fairy! Keep talking shit and your little boyfriend is gonna get it!” Henry shouted angrily as he kicked at Eddie’s side and the small boy yelped in pain and tried his hardest to drag himself away from Henry, but Vic stepped in his way.

Richie swallowed hard and shut his mouth. He knew Henry meant it and so did the rest of the gang, so they all watched nervously, afraid of their next move. There might have been more of them, but these boys were dangerous and they carried weapons. Weapons they weren’t afraid to use, either.

“Hey!” Their heads whipped around to see a shop owner in town approaching them. So maybe Henry didn’t really think it through when he decided to attack them in the middle of town. He dropped the fanny pack at Eddie’s side and Vic backed away from the boy’s small frame. Patrick released Richie from his grasp and Belch stepped back from the rest of the group, “Knock it off you punks and leave those kids alone!” The man shouted and Henry called his goons back to him.

The boys retreated back to Henry’s car rather quickly without another word spoken. All the kids let out a breath they didn’t even know they were holding, except for Eddie, who at this point was barely able to breathe.

“Eds!” Richie ran to the boy’s side.

“Don’t-,” gasp, “f-fucking-,” another gasp, “touch me!” And another gasp. Eddie scrambled for his inhaler and Richie kneeled down beside him, grabbing his fanny pack for him. Eddie began to puff on the inhaler and his eyes went wide at the sight of Richie’s dirty, greasy fingers pressing into the fabric of his most sacred possession.

He snatched it from Richie’s hands, cringing at the thought of all the germs that were swimming all over him at this point, “Just let me help you, for fuck sake, Eds.” Richie grabbed the fanny pack from Eddie’s hand with a sigh of frustration.

“Since when did you grow a heart, asshole?” Richie scoffed in amusement at him and pulled out some alcohol wipes and a small bottle of hydrogen peroxide, “DON’T TOUCH ME, RICHIE!”

“Oh shut the hell up, ya big baby.” He grumbled back in response as he tended to Eddie’s wound. The strangest feeling washed over Eddie. It was a feeling he had never felt for Richie, at least not this powerfully. It was a feeling of adoration. He adored this boy, even with his unkept greasy hair and his crumb infested fingers from whatever lunch he had that day. Eddie was a complete germaphobe and yet he adored this boy who was practically a walking germ.

His demeanor softened and his face flushed. He was blushing. He could feel it. Richie looked up at him and smirked at the pink tint on his cheeks. They both felt eyes on them and their heads shot towards the group.

“Suh-see what I-I-I muh-m-mean?” Bill laughed so loud it resonated around them and the group giggled in amusement at the two boys. Now it was Richie’s turn to blush.

“Yes, completely.” Stan agreed and the rest nodded in agreement.

“What the fuck are you talking about, assholes!?” Eddie shouted and Richie voiced his agreement.

“Oh nothing,” Beverly mused, “but would you look at the time!? We gotta get going guys! Make sure you get him home in one piece, trashmouth.” She winked at the two and the group sauntered off to their bikes and rode away, leaving them utterly flustered and confused.

“What the hell was that?” Richie asked and Eddie shrugged unknowingly.

“I have no idea, but I do know I’m bound to get an infection letting you do this for me. When is the last time you washed your hands, Rich?” He asked and Richie faked a pained look.

“Hey, I’m a clean guy!”

“Your hair is so greasy, dude. Look at your fingernails, too! There’s crumbs under them from God knows when! I’m totally gonna get an infection.” Eddie rambled and rambled until Richie threw his hand over his mouth.

“That’s what all these supplies are for, asswipe. Now stop being a jerk and appreciate me for once. I don’t do this shit for just anybody, ya know.” Eddie swallowed the lump in his throat as Richie spoke softly and carefully to him, inches from his face. His breathe smelled like a ham sandwich and a marlboro.

Eddie laughed mentally at himself, wondering how he seriously managed to fall for someone like Richie. Maybe it was the fact that Richie didn’t care what people thought of him. Or his loyalty to his friends and loved ones. God, he had no clue, but for some reason he wanted to taste Richie’s lips against his.

“S-S-Sorry...” He forced the words out of his throat and hated himself for stuttering.

“Woah, hi Bill, didn’t know you were in there.” Richie joked and his laugh bounced through Eddie’s ears like it was his favorite song. He couldn’t help but laugh too.

“Okay, fuck you, Tozier.”

“Chill, Eds, we’re in public. Wait till we get home.” He winked and Eddie blushed again. Goddamn it, Eddie, stop it!

Richie noticed the pink blush running across Eddie’s cheeks and his heart fluttered at the thought that maybe Eddie liked the way he flirted with him. Richie was horrible at showing his emotions, especially emotions that were deemed wrong by society. He never thought, as feminine as Eddie was, that he could ever like Richie back. He still tried his hardest to tease him into realizing it. Maybe it was easier that way, if it was unspoken, then he wouldn’t have to admit it to himself either. Maybe they could both know and no one would have to say anything. They would just know.

“Seriously, thank you, Rich. All jokes aside, I appreciate you.”

“Just say you love me, no need to sugar coat it, Eds.”

Eddie smiled and rolled his eyes, “Oh shut up!” He shoved him playfully and as Richie fell backwards onto his bottom, he grabbed ahold of Eddie’s hand and pulled him toward him. Their foreheads smacked together and their breaths mingled briefly. Richie’s glasses went crooked and his heart leaped and his palms began to sweat. Eddie was frozen in place, his hand still gripped tightly in Richie’s.

“Uhhh, I-I-,” Eddie went to speak and stammered nervously and for some reason Richie was overwhelmed with the urge to kiss him and so he did.

Eddie was stiff for a moment, wide eyed and confused. He relaxed almost instantly, letting the kiss take over him.

Their hearts were soaring as they pulled away from each other. The kiss was nothing crazy, but the fact that there even was a kiss was enough to send their hearts into overdrive and for their stomachs to flip and twirl and drop and they could have both sworn it was a dream.

“You should let me help you more often.” Richie whispered and Eddie blushed again.

-

Okay seriously thought I would have had this finished asap so sorry to the anon that I told this would be up within the hour. More like 5 hours😭 I work overnights and my job is never crazy busy, but tonight was ridiculous so I had to stop in between loads of times. But I finished it and I hope the anon who requested this enjoyed it ❤️

[deanssweetheart23]

Somewhere Only We Know - Part III

Title: Somewhere Only We Know: Spring’s Tale (Part III)

Overview: Dean Winchester doesn’t believe in love. He doesn’t believe that he deserves the happiness of it after everything he’s done. And then she waltzes into his life. The girl that brings with her colors and life and feelings he never thought he’d experience. Is the one year he gets to spend with her enough to change his life forever? Or will it break him beyond repair?

Characters: Dean Winchester x reader, Sam Winchester (did I mention he ships them?) Marty Blye, Jack Y/L/N (OMCs, only mentioned). 

Word count: 4678 (still no regrets, lol)

Warnings: Fluff. Angst. Implied smut. Some language, allusion to death and grief. Slightly jealous!Dean Bean, but don’t worry, he’s just being a dork. 

Author’s Notes: This is my entry for @thing-you-do-with-that-thing‘s Seasons of Love Challenge (Bloom of Spring) and for @dancing-the-hellfire-rumba‘s 250 Writing Challenge. My prompts are a secret gif added to the fic below and Dive by Ed Sheeran. 

Special thank you to Wonder Woman @percywinchester27  (AAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH I cries LOVE cries some more this) for betaing this for me, even though she’s been insanely busy. I love you so, so much, Ana.

Thank you so much for your patience and the love you’ve shown for this series, y’all. I love you. 

Catch up here.

Out of all the regrets Dean has, pushing her away is his biggest one.

He realizes that much the moment she walks out of the door, the moment she leaves him aching for something he’d never thought he’d have, and, though he tries to convince himself that what happened, those kisses, don’t change anything between them, he can feel it, deep into his bones, he can feel he just ruined the one good thing in his life.

He can feel he lost her.

And he’s right.

She retracts in herself almost immediately, builds walls and creates spaces between them, letting everything they’ve ever shared –late night conversations and inside jokes and accidental brushes of hands, vanish into thin air, like they never even existed.

Like they meant nothing to her.

And maybe they did.

Maybe he was so desperate to believe he actually mattered to her that he saw things that weren’t there, things he wanted to see.

Granted, she tries to keep things civil, tries to talk and feign contentment and laugh at his jokes, but he knows it’s all smoke and mirrors. He can see it every time she leaves a room shortly after he enters it, every time her smile falters just a little bit when they lock eyes, something like hopelessness dangling across her face.

And he misses her.

God, he misses her smile and full body laugh, misses their drunken bets and the way she opened up to him wholly, unconditionally, accepting him for who he was, flawed and broken.

“So-” Sam’s voice pulls him out of his thoughts- “I think that’s where we need to go next.”

Dean blinks.

He gloomily tries to remember what Sam had been talking about before he zoned out almost ten minutes ago, but it’s impossible.

His brother notices. Rolls his eyes. “You didn’t listen to a word I just said, did you?”

“What?” Dean’s forehead puckers in feigned indignation. “No, man, I was… I’m just –she can’t possibly like that guy, right?” he finally blurts out, completely ignoring Sam’s sigh of frustration as his eyes drift to the sleazy man on his left again.

They’re working on Y/N’s first real case, a simple salt and burn somewhere in Oregon, and, despite the fact he’d been the one to encourage her to take the lead, now that he’s just standing there, watching as another man makes her laugh, he’s kind of regretting the whole thing.

“I mean, he wears red tape shoes to work. Who does that?”

“Dean,” Sam breathes out and it’s more hesitant than he had anticipated, “this isn’t about the shoes and you know it.”

“Of course it’s about the shoes. Shoes don’t lie, Sam. The guy is a douche.”

Sam shakes his head. “And you’re jealous, but I’m not making a big deal out of it, am I?”

The words come out in a smirk, quiet and coy and loaded with a truth Dean isn’t ready to admit out loud yet.

So, he pretends, picks up his armor and straps himself with steel and iron.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

A snort.

Brows raised in frustration.

“Dude, you look at her like the sun shines out of her damn ass. S’ disturbing.”

His cheeks flush fifty shades of red. “Shut up.”

“And you haven’t stop scowling about this guy flirting with her ever since we got here. So-”

“Sam,” he warns, starting to get angry, “drop it.”

“No,” Sam says and it’s relentless. “I tried to drop it, Dean. But you two barely speak to each other anymore and you won’t even tell me why. And you know what, that’s fine. You don’t want to talk about it. I can respect that.” He holds up a hand, his words clipped out. “But I’m tired of watching both of you hurting and doing absolutely nothing to fix it.”

And Dean knows he’s promised himself he’d keep his frigging mouth shut, promised himself he’d do what she asked of him and let the whole thing go, let her go, but in that moment, it’s impossible.

So, he opens his mouth to speak, then closes it again, choking on dry air like a fish out of water. And then. “I screwed up, Sammy. Things happened between us and I just…” He cuts himself off, takes a deep breath. “She hates me.”

“She doesn’t ha-”

“She avoids me like I have the fucking plague.” He grounds out, absolutely loathing the bitterness, the desperation in his own voice.

Sam gives him a skeptic look.

A crease forms between his brow, and when he sighs, it hitches. “Because she doesn’t know what else to do. Dean, I’m telling you, I’ve seen the way she looks at you. The way she’s always looked at you. And I get that you think you can’t be with someone, not in our line of work, but-” his expression softens- “she’s not Lisa. Or Cassie. In fact, she’s not like anyone you’ve ever been with because shit hit the fan and she’s still here. So, just-” Sam’s lower lip wobbles, the muscles in his jaw twitching, and, for a second, Dean thinks he can see the ache for a love long lost in his brother’s eyes, thinks he can see memories of a lively blonde girl swimming in a sea of hazel- “don’t give up on her.”

Silence stretches between them after that, and all Dean can think about, is how much guilt surges through him at his brother’s words, how he wants to scream and yell and break things because he doesn’t want to give her up.

And that’s the problem.

Dean wants so many things that contradict each other. He wants her. He wants to be allowed to want her. He wants her safe. He wants her to lead a normal life as far away from him as possible. He doesn’t want to get his heart broken again.

But as he watches her slide into the backseat a few minutes later, eyes cast downwards and hands fidgeting with the chain around her neck, he realizes that none of those things matter.

Because he’s already in too deep. And his brother’s right.

He can’t give up on her.

He just hopes that, deep down, she doesn’t want to give up on him, too.

He follows his brother’s advice a week later.

They’ve just returned home from Portland, and, though she’s still very obviously walking on eggshells around him, he can’t stop thinking about that smile she threw his way when he toasted to the end of her first successful hunt a few hours earlier.

It was the first real smile he’d gotten out of her in over a month.

And while Dean’s not sure whether that has anything to do with the conversation she had had with Sam the night before –a conversation that was interrupted the second Dean set foot in the room, or whether it was one of those things that just happen, he doesn’t want to pass on the opportunity to fix things between them.

So, when he passes by her room at 2 a.m. and sees her light is still on, he takes a deep breath and raps his knuckles down on the wooden door before he can stop himself.

He waits.

Nothing happens.

“Kid?” he asks after a while, voice thick with sleep.

Another moment passes and then-

“Come on in.”

The room’s dark when he goes inside, save from the light of a lamp she has on her nightstand and the bright screen of her laptop, currently frozen on some pixelated video he’s never seen before.

He finds her sitting up on the bed, cheeks flushed and eyes red-rimmed.

He knows better than to comment on it.

“Hey,” he whispers softly, like she’s some sort of scared animal.

Her eyes dart up to meet his.

“Hi.” A pause. Brows furrowed in concern. “Is everything alright?”

“Oh, yeah. I just…” He runs a hand over his face, tries to gather his wits. “I saw the light was still on and wanted to make sure you were okay.”

God, he hates how awkward this is.

“Yeah. Just couldn’t sleep. Which-” she laughs but it’s humorless and wry- “is nothing new really. But, uh…” She rubs at her forehead. “Thanks for checking up on me.”

A nod.

Eyes that drift to the floor.

“Anytime, kid,” he says, gruff and crippled, disappointment wrapping around his heart like a vine.

This has been just another mistake.

With a sigh, he heads for the door, ready to leave and spare himself the humiliation, but-

“Do they ever stop?” she asks, shifting in the bed, so, she can look at him better. “The nightmares, I mean.”

He turns around to face her.  

There’s a softness in her eyes that hasn’t been there before, an openness that breathes life into him and makes her look younger.

He warns himself to not screw this up.

“I don’t think you’ll like the answer to that question, Y/N.”

She snorts. “Nah, I figured. How-” she bites on her bottom lip- “how do you do it?”

His eyes shift to the laptop.

He tilts his head back and meets her gaze.

“S’ hard, but… My, uh… Bobby, he was like a father to me and he always told me to think of things that calm me down.”

A small smile, shy but real.

“Like Metallica songs?”

He laughs, despite himself.

When he notices the mischief that’s etched across her slanted brow, he feels like a weight has been lifted off his shoulders.

“Yeah, like Metallica songs. Or, I dunno. Good memories. Fourth of July with Sammy, learning how to drive… That sorta thing,” he explains.

What he doesn’t tell her, however, is that, sometimes, when all of these things fail to keep him grounded, he thinks about her, about all those little things he’s picked here and there and her voice that reminds him of the nights he’d spent listening to his mum talking about the stars.

She smiles and it’s like the entire room is flooded with sunshine.

“C’mere,” she mutters, patting the empty side of the bed next to her, “I want to show you something.”

He’s reluctant at first, still wary of how fragile their friendship actually is, so he keeps some space between them.

She doesn’t seem to notice.

Instead, she pulls the laptop closer to her and hits play.

The first thing that catches Dean’s attention as images begin to swirl around the screen is the noise.

There is a deafening roar of water and voices, muffled by its flow, speaking in languages he doesn’t understand, but has certainly heard before. A stone fountain appears on the screen seconds later, decorated with snakes and tritons and horses as it tumbles forward, mixing water and rockwork.

“Is that-”

“Sssh,” she mutters, elbowing him in the side. “Wait.”

And then, the camera turns to capture the small square he’s seen in iconic movies, and a man in his early thirties laughs and waves at the person holding it, delight and awe floating across his ruggedly chiseled features.

He’s tall, with long brown hair and a mustache and, though Dean has never seen him before, he realizes there’s something very familiar about him.

When he smiles, the corners of his slightly crooked mouth curling up, it’s like he’s seeing Y/N’s glow radiating off the screen.

“That’s my Dad,” Y/N explains after a few seconds, eyes never leaving the pixelated figure. “He took me to Rome for my tenth birthday.”

“Wow.”

She laughs.

He’s missed that laugh.

“I know. I couldn’t believe it either.” She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, stares at the screen silently for a few seconds. “Rome… It was my dream trip ever since I found out my parents got married there. But, then Mum got sick and we had to pay for chemo and all that medication and then, after she died…. My Dad worked construction, you know? We could get by and he always made sure I had everything I needed, but traveling to the other side of the world? I never thought we’d be able to do that.”

“And yet, he made it happen,” Dean mumbles, more to himself than to her.

“Yeah. That was what my Dad was like. He’d do anything for the people he loved.”

He swallows, hard.

She’s never talked about her father before, not that much anyway, always opting to avoid the subject altogether, or just mention him in passing and change the direction of the conversation before anyone had a chance to comment on it.

Still, he knows she adores him, because of the look on her face every time she does bring him up, because of the unshed tears and that lump in her throat that always leaves a bittersweet taste.

He knows because he’s seen her grief in his mother’s loss.

Slowly, he shuffles a little closer to her, just enough to let her know that he’s there if she needs him.

“What happened?”

“Construction accident,” she explains, wrapping her arms around her middle. “A piece of steel fell from a tower crane. Dad saw it, tried to warn one his friend. It hit him in the head instead.” Deep breath. Eyes fluttering close. “I never even got the chance to say goodbye.”

“Kid,” Dean whispers, but he has no idea what to say to her, because he knows, better than anyone, no words will ever be enough.

“You know after he died, I thought that nothing would possibly hurt more… And then, Marty was killed, and-” she lets out a grim laugh, shrugs- “well…”

“Y/N, I’m sorry, I… I shouldn’t have.”

“No, s’ okay… I wanted you to know,” she whispers, taking his hand in hers.

It catches him off guard, the way she reaches out for him after she’s spent the past few weeks keeping him at arm’s length, but her soft skin feels so right as it slides against his calloused hands that he can’t bring himself to care.

“He would have liked you, you know.”

“I dunno about that, kid. M’ not exactly the kind of guy parents tend to like,” he snorts, running a hand over his face.

A laugh.

Fingers that tighten around his.

“Yeah, D. I think you are.”

Her eyes lock onto his then, the sound of his nickname, frozen on the edge of her lips for so long, resonating within him, and he knows.

There is hope for him after all.

Dean can’t stop staring at her.

He knows he’s not supposed to, knows that the last thing he needs is to ruin things between them now that their relationship has only started mending, but she looks so unbelievably beautiful in the middle of the small park, with her sundress fluttering against her thighs and the cherry blossoms tangling in her hair like pink snowflakes, that he just can’t look away.

It’s a beautiful day, sky a soft shade of blue, and the flower-speckled grass is there to remind him that spring has settled in, with its roses and asters and its bright sunlight waltzing across Y/N’s skin like a soft caress.

“You know-” Y/N starts as she turns to face him- “if you stare at me any harder, you might actually shoot laser beams out of your eyes.”

Dean chuckles.

A cheeky smile plays at the corners of his lips, but the way he shrugs his shoulders is sheepish, coy even.

It’s been almost two months since that night in her bedroom and, though things have returned back to normal, he still feels guilty about the time he’d lost, still worries the two of them are skating on thin ice.

And he can’t get Sam’s words out of his head.

“M’ sorry, I just…” He pauses, takes in the way her hair has fallen out of its bun, soft curls dancing around flushed cheeks. “Spring looks good on you, kid.”

She laughs, and it swirls around him like sunshine. “Now you’re just being nice”

“Or-” he jabs a finger at her, lips curled up in a smile- “m’ being honest.”

“Dean…”

“Y/N, c’mon. That guy in the ice cream store? He couldn’t stop staring.”

She snorts.

When she looks at him again, her eyes are sparkling. “That would probably be because of the three-scoop ice cream cone I ordered. Bet he doesn’t see that all the time.”

Rolling his eyes, he huffs out an incredulous breath.

“Smartass.”

“Hmm,” she hums, reaches out for him, “thank you for coming with me, by the way. Sometimes I just…” She shrugs her shoulder. “I need a break from…all of it, I guess.”

“I know. And I still…” He rocks back and forth on his heels, lets the rough pad of his thumb run soothing circles on her hand. “I still feel guilty about dragging you into this shitstorm…”

“Dean,” she sighs, absolutely intransigent. “You didn’t drag me into anything.”

And Dean’s spent most of his time doubting that, has spent weeks trying to convince himself leaving her alone would have been wiser, would have been the right thing to do, but now…

Now he’s not so sure anymore, because she is still with him.

She has covered herself in his poison.

And she’s healing.

“I did. But, you seem…” He takes a deep breath and smiles, a half-smile that’s smudged around the edges. “I dunno. You seem to like it here.”

“I do. D, helping people, hunting-” she holds up her hands- “s’ not some sort of twisted way for me to act out. S’ what I want. And I’d want it, even if it weren’t for you.” Her voice is steady. “I need you to get that through your stupidly thick skull.”

He breathes out, slow and wary and so relieved.  

The slightest of smirks floats across his face. “Okay.”

“Good. On that note-” she gnaws on her bottom lip- “Sam and I were talking the other day… About demons and stuff and I think… I want to get the anti-possession tattoo.”

She says this naturally, punctuating each word with a kind of gentle authority he’s come to admire, but he reads between the lines, understands what she’s really trying to say.

“You sure? Because I’m all for that, but-”

“It’s for my own protection, right?”

A nod.

Lips curled up in a heart-shattering grin.

“Then I’m doing it. Besides-” she pushes some hair off her face, lets mischief sweep over her- “I doubt it’ll hurt as much the second time.”

“The sec—you already…” A pause. “You have a tattoo?”

“Uh huh.”

“But I haven’t… I’ve never seen it before.”

She frigging smirks at him. “Maybe it’s not meant to be seen.”

Dean’s brow raises somewhere above his hairline.

He rubs at the back of his neck, a sheepish chuckle escaping him. “Not meant to –wait, seriously?”

“Uh huh.”

His throat clicks in a swallow. “So, it’s-”

“I’m not telling you.”

Dean’s delighted now, eyes going a bit narrow as he grins. “That’s just cruel, kid. I mean, you’ve seen me naked.”

“I have not.”

“Well, you’ve read about it,” he shrugs, shoving his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket. “Same difference.”

She narrows her eyes the size of half-dollars.

Her cheeks flush pink.

“You’re shameless,” she groans.

“Obviously.”

He takes a step forward, lets his eyes sweep over her face.

“And I hate you.”

“No-” he cups the side of her face with his hand- “you don’t.”

And there’s a part of him that expects her to pull away, but she just leans closer, so, he glances at her lips, his free hand coming to rest on the small of her back.

Her eyes flutter close at the contact. “Dean,” she whispers, his name leaving her in a plea, “Dean, this can’t keep happening.”

He breathes out, apologies etched on every line of his face. “Kid-”

“Don’t… You don’t get to kiss me back the way you did and then pretend it never happened, okay? You just… You can’t.”

His eyes cast downwards.

“I shouldn’t have let you go,” he says, husky. Rough. “That night… That was one of the stupidest things I’ve ever done. And, Jesus, I’ve done some very stupid things over the years,” he laughs, but it’s self-deprecating, broken.

“Then why did you? You broke my heart that night, Dean.”

“I know. And I hate myself for that, but I didn’t…” He pauses. Clenches his jaw. “I didn’t want you to do something you’d regret in the morning.”

“Regret?”

He looks away, shoulders rising and falling faster than his heartbeat.

And then, as his words sink in. “You think… You think I kissed you because of Marty?”

“Y/N-”

“My God, that’s just…” She rubs at her temples. “Okay. Marty was my best friend, alright? And I love him and miss him, more than I’ll ever be able to put into words. But that-” her fist clenches- “it has nothing to do with you. D, I like you. I like you so much that it terrifies me because I’ve never-” she lets out a nervous laugh- “I’ve never felt like that before and I don’t-”

“Hey.” He reaches her side, traces her cheek with his thumb gingerly. “I know, okay? I know because I feel that, too, all of it, but… Kid, you deserve the fucking the world. And I can’t… I can’t  give that to you.”

“Well, I don’t want the fucking world,” she grounds out in a rush, tugging at his arm. “I want you.” Her lips break into a hint of a smile. “Dumbass.”

His hand slid up over her shoulder, twitches up into her hair.

“Yeah?” he asks, eyes shining with wonder.

“Yeah. So, just-” she takes a deep breath, stares at his mouth for just a second- “shut up and kiss me.”

He laughs then, because she’s insane and he absolutely loves it, and leans in, gently, slowly, to brush his lips against hers, allowing himself to remember every single detail, relish in the feel of her, all over again.

It’s overwhelming, the way her mouth moves along with his because now he knows exactly what the wordless whispers of her skin mean, knows that she’s kissing him because she wants it, wants him and everything he’s made of, flaws and fears and scars.

They kiss like that for a while, until it’s too much, until it’s not nearly enough, and then she grips at his shoulder, and he opens her mouth and brushes his tongue against her, a breathless growl escaping him.

And he’s sure that night she’d tasted like apple cider and cinnamon, but this time…

This time she tastes like spring.

He makes love to her that same night.

He tries to give her space, takes her to her bedroom and kisses her goodbye, fully intending to leave, but then she laughs at something awkward he says and it takes him back to that night they spent together in Denver, to the way he held her against him while she cried.

He’d wondered then whether she’d ever be able to shine as brightly as she once used to, and, he realizes now, as he listens to the sound of her endearingly off-key laughter, he realizes that she is shining, no matter how fleeting, and it’s all because of him.

So, he leans in and kisses her, full and deep and thorough, nothing like the chaste kiss he was going for, and when she slides her hands up his arms and tugs, he pulls away and looks into her eyes, breathless.

“You sure?”

She smiles.

Her fingers come to trace his jawline.

“More than.” She pecks him sweetly. “There’s one thing though.”

“M’ all ears.”

“I’m not here because of Marty. I’m here because of you.” She grins a little, clutches at his shirt. “D., you’re… You’re the guy that kept ordering all those god awful pies just to find an excuse to talk to me. How can I not love that about you?”

“Kid, you’re….” A sigh. “You have no idea how much I wanted this. Wanted you.”

She beams at him.

At his side, her fingers thread through his and she grips.

“Show me.”

It’s all heated touches and shy glances after that. She’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, and he makes sure to tell her that much, makes sure to tell her how perfect she is while she hovers above him, mapping his scars with her fingertips, kissing and holding and bending.

He can’t remember the last time he felt like this, doesn’t think he’s ever felt like this before, and it’s all so new to him, she is so new to him, so he goes slow. He whispers how much he wants her into her ear, waits for every whimper and soft word of praise, for every trembling breath until the world around them ceases to exist and she follows him over the edge, lets him lose and find himself in her.

And he can’t believe this is happening, can’t believe she’s looking into his eyes with so much love, but he takes it, because this, having her so close, it’s all he’s ever wanted.

“Jesus-” he presses a soft kiss on the crook of her neck- “should have done that a long time ago.”

She laughs, breathless, and he looks up, shifts a little on top of her.

“Hey,” he tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, takes in the look in her eyes, “you okay?”

A smile tugs at her lips and it’s the sweetest thing he’s ever seen.

“Yeah.” A pause. “Yeah, I’m great actually. I just…” Deep breath. “We can make this work, right?”

And it’s just a little question, six shy words strung together, but he can see through it, can see the uncertainty that’s running through her veins, her fear that, after everything that happened between them, she’s going to lose him, too.

He hates it.

“Kid,” he whispers, laces his fingers with hers, “I’m gonna make this work, if it’s the last thing I’ll do.”

Relief washes over her, coats her face with softness and bliss, but before he has time to comment on it, she pecks him lazily.

“Good, because-” she smooths her hands through his hair, grins a little- “I think your brother kind of ships us, and I’d hate to ruin this for him.”

A laugh.

Eyes that lock onto hers.

“Nothing gets past you, huh?”

“Well-” she juts her chin- “I am pretty smart.”

“’Course you are, Sherlock.” He flops to the side. “C’mere.”

She hums, and he pulls her to him, wraps his arm around her.

His fingers trace the paper airplane tattoo at the side of her breast.

She shivers against him.

“When did you get that?”

“About a year ago. Dad used to make these for me and Marty when we were kids...” She tangles her legs with his. “No one’s ever seen it before.”

He pushes some hair off her face, lets the meaning of her words settle in. “S’ beautiful.”

Her mouth presses up against his jaw.

“Stay the night.”

He chuckles into her hair, quiet and rumbling.

His grip tightens around her.

“I was hoping you’d say that, kid.”

Letting out a content sigh, she kisses his left pec and snuggles closer to him, a sleepy smile on her lips.

She’s warm and soft against him and he lets himself take her in, lets himself get lost into how right all of this feels to him.

And he’s never really believed in love, has never really believed that he deserves to be loved after everything he’s done, but as he watches her sleep in his arms, hand spread across his chest, hair a halo over her face, he thinks that, sometimes, miracles do happen.

And maybe, just maybe, she’s his.

Α/Ν: *looks left* *looks right* *whispers* ....it’s not over yet

 Forever Tags: @jpadjackles @trexrambling @supernatural-jackles @atwistoffate @there-must-be-a-lock @thevioletthourr @ravengirl94 @ravenangel33 @carryonmyswansong @hannahindie @escabell @sunlightdances @masksandtruths @dancing-the-hellfire-rumba @dancingalone21 @torn-and-frayed @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @percywinchester27 @deansbabygirl01 @pickupthatamulet @tiny-friggin-human @polina-93 @mandilion76 @juanitadiann @iwriteaboutdean @winchesters-flannels @winchestersnco @becs-bunker @imagining-supernatural @wordstothewisereaders @sgarrett49 @ruprecht0420 @spngeronimo @kathaswings @keepcalmandcarryondean @captainemwinchester @mogaruke @imissyoualittlemoreeveryday @wellthatsrandomkek @jayankles @akshi8278 @persephone-divine @becominglionhearted @spn-dean-and-sam-winchester @holahellohialoha @atc74 @sinistersaltqueen @emoryhemsworth @carryonmywaywardcaptain @superapplepie @princess-of-erebor1992 @bebravekeeponfighting @no-shit-sherl0ck @caitthejourno @sebastianshoe @stellaa33 @kleinkariertebetrachter @samisimportant @shutupiminlooove @jessilliam-caronday @annoyingpeople-postingthings @waywardlodging @blushingdean @wh1sp3r1ng-impala @princess-shurii @superflurry @lipstickandwhiskey @mrswhozeewhatsis @starry-chaos @wholelottackles @rlawson418

SOWK Tags: @girliciousdreams @cherryblossom292 @zeldalyfe @winchester607 @flormolero @chicagolove88 @sleepless-sin @dizwinchester @deangirl7695 @superwholockmarauder @atequila @fangirl-andmedstudend-help 

Crossed out tags are inactive. If I’m spelling your URL wrong, please, let me know :)

[bbbrats]

Am I forgiven? (J.JK 21+)

Warnings: intense smut, graphic descriptions of smut, angst, heartbreak, explicit sex, happy ending, pure filth.

Jeon Jungkook was your bestfriend, 6 years to be exact. Jeon Jungkook from BTS? Yeah. In other words, you and Jungkook were closer than the boys themselves, but he loved you all equally. Only problem was, you loved him in a different type of way. In terms of your significant other. He didn't know of course, and that's how it lead up to this.. Him sitting on the couch with his new girlfriend, Jennie, mouth-to-mouth and rubbing up against each other. And there, third wheeling, you were. Sitting on the couch, trying to watch a fucking movie in peace. It hurt a lot, even if he didn't know how much it hurt, he could've had the decency to do all of this in private, away from you. He doesn't hear your annoyed throat-clearing, your way-too-loud sighs, or even you walk out. The door slamming closed falls on deaf ears as you start walking home in the freezing rain, cursing Jeon and his girlfriend, bitterness tugging at your aching heart. Back at his apartment, Jungkook notices the quiet room, aside from Jennie's whines and whimpers, there's nothing. He pulls away, and his head snaps over to your side of the couch, only to find you gone. He doesn't even get the chance to check his phone or ask where you went before Jennie is pulling him to the bedroom, eagerly. Little does he know, this would be one of the worst mistakes he's ever made. 4 months later You enter the coffee shop Jungkook wanted to meet you at. After almost four months without seeing him or even being able to get a text back, you now you had to sit down and swallow your hurt, anger, and betrayal in a bitter, swirling gulp, and have a civilized conversation that you wanted to opt out of so bad. You were beyond hurt, and so close to pissed. Entering the diner on shaky legs, you stand in the doorway, looking around, secretly hoping you were late. Until you heard him call your name, and you looked in his direction. Biggest fucking mistake ever. You should've turned on your heels and ran when you had the fucking chance. Long and fucking behold, it's him, his pregnant as fuck girlfriend, and Yoongi. You quietly and quickly step over to them , and take a seat next to Yoongi, barely acknowledging them. Yoongi glances at you through his peripheral and his lips twitch into a frown. You were so visibly upset, almost trembling in anger and heartbreak. He reaches under the table and grabs your hand, trying to prepare you for what's to come. Jennie clears her throat and opens her mouth. "Y/n, Jungkook and I are-" Until she cut off by a annoyed Jungkook. "I told you that I'd be the one to tell her. She's my best friend." Sure doesn't fucking feel like it. Jennie rolls her eyes and looks away, leaving Jungkook to scoff silently and turn back to me. Jungkook: "Y/n.." He sighs, "Jennie and I are.. Getting married. Next week." Yoongi feels your hand go limp, and anyone who was paying attention could see your entire physique slump down in defeat. You've lost him. A stupid little grin spreads on his face, and your heart shatters again at it. "Do you want to come, maybe? And support me?" His eyes are so bright and happy, filled with joy, adoration and happiness. But it wasn't for you. It never was. You don't smile back, not because you don't want to pretend that you're okay, but because you can't. You can't hear anything, you can't feel anything. You feel so numb and gone. Glancing at you, Yoongi removes his hand, and squeezes your thigh, trying to snap you back to reality. You look over to Yoongi, your brows furrowing as he sees your eyes watering, and your nose sniffling. 'Y/n..' Jungkook looks between you and Yoongi, eyes taking in your distraught face. Your head turned to him, hurt and pain reflecting into his confused ones. He reached across to touch your face, maybe brush the tears away, and you flinched away from him "Don't. Touch. Me." You whispered. He looked confused for a second followed by a slight pang of anger. "Are you fucking kidding me, Y/n? What's your problem? I don't see you in months and I tell you I'm getting married and you cry? Maybe you shouldn't come, if you'll act like this." He whisper-yelled, anger flashing through his face. Thinking it was impossible for your heart to break anymore was a stupid thought, because it just shattered all over again. Sobbing softly, you pulled out a picture and handed it to him. He took it, and his eyes softened. You and him at a arcade, while he's holding your waist and trying to show you how to shoot the basketballs. He looks up at you as you stand up, and he grasps your wrist, pushing something into your hand. An invitation to the wedding. Shaking your head, you give it back, and turn on your heel, head lowered and walked out of the diner. You faintly heard Jungkook call your name, but you didn't turn around. He wanted to be happy, and the only way he could do that, was if you left and let him be. It was time to say goodbye. 2 years later Jungkook's twenty-second birthday has passed. Another birthday without you. You you try not to pay attention to it now. About 5 months after you left, you heard that Jungkook and Jennie got divorced. The child wasn't Jungkook's and she only wanted his money. Which she didn't get. Everyday, you thought about Jungkook. Sometimes, wondering if it was mutual. ~ You were sitting at your favorite park, on the swings, reading a book. Someone sat beside you, but you really paid no attention. No one would kidnap you in broad daylight. Well you hoped not. You continued reading even though you felt them staring. You sighed and flipped the page. "Yes? You've been staring at me for like 5 minutes. Can I help you?" The person fidgeted slightly, and looked away. "I'm sorry your just so beautiful." You recognized the voice, and stood up, walking away. It was Jungkook. "Y/n..", He called softly, making you stop. You felt him walk up behind you, and wrap his arms around your waist, awaking feelings that you thought were dead forever. "Y/n..." He called out again, this time brushing his lips against you ear. You were intoxicated. His smell blocked out your senses, while his voice sent shivers down your spine. You missed him. His closeness. "Y/n.. I fucking missed you. Your voice, your smell, your face, your eyes, your nose, your lips, your body pressed against mines... Us." He sighed, inhaling your scent. You wanted to make him suffer, but you couldn't. Turning in his arms to face him, eyes watering. "I missed you to Kookie. I loved you. But-" "Loved" he questioned. "Past tense?" You shook your head. "I still do but you can't just leave me like that. It fucking hurt." You whimpered, tears threatening to fall for the first time in two years. Jungkook noticed and tightened his grip on your waist, digging his nails into your hips making you gasp. He slammed his lips to yours. Too rough to be gentle, but too gentle to actually hurt. You tugged at his hair as he shoved his tongue into your mouth, making the seem like he wanted you to swallow it. He gripped at your hips tighter, digging his nails so deep that it broke skin, leaving you to cry out in his mouth as he kissed you relentlessly. Your lungs started to burn with lack of air as he pressed on, swallowing your protests of him deliciously suffocating you. Tugging sharply at his hair to unattach your lips, you whined, feeling your lips bruise. He yanked away letting you inhale deeply, while a string of saliva connected from your lips to his. He groaned, and kissed it away with a light peck. You had forgot you where in a park, as you looked down and saw his cock pressing against his tight leather pants. You could see it visibly throbbing. No doubt in your mind that you were soaked beyond belief. He noticed your stare and looked down, starting to feel it as he groaned loudly, grabbing your wrist and taking you to his car. The drive was far more than frustrating as you rubbed your legs together for some friction while you ghosted your hand over his cock. Jungkook couldn't focus enough on the road, hand gripping the steering wheel. He sped up, almost swerving between cars. Pulling into his drive way, we both rushed out of the car and to the front door, his frustration showing as he growled and the inability to properly unlock his door. Once he did, there was no turning back, he yanked you inside He slammed me against the front door, pressing his erection against my lower belly, and grinded up into me. He whimpered loudly as he pressed himself into my core. I let out a low moan and he got the message. Taking us both up the stairs, he kicked his bedroom door open, and pulled us both through it. He threw me on the bed as he undressed. My eyes landed on his cock, that was straining through his boxers, and he saw my gaze. He smirked and palmed himself through his boxers, and moaned out. He threw his head back and looked at me. Over his nose and gulped as his throat was on display. "Kook.." I rasped out. He took the hint and dove at me, and pulled my panties to the side. "Kook, condoms?" I said, tugging at his hair. "Don't worry about it." He whispered, guiding his cock to my entrance. "Jungkook, I could get pregnant-J-Jungkook.",You whined as he pushes into you. He growled at you. "Princess, for once, just shut up and take me." A burn was felt in his back as your nails sunk into his soft skin, leaving a trail of blazing fire in your wake. His pace was slow, but each thrust, he drove as deep as he could, making you take every inch that could fit, emotions overflowing from you both. He stopped, pulling your thighs over his forearms, exposing you to himself. This new angle allowed him to reach new depths, that were formerly untouched, as he bottomed out into you with every thrust, feeling as though he would rip you apart with every thrust. Fucking into you was an understatement, as numerous years fell out of your eyes, the pain and pleasure mixing into an ultimate cocktail of euphoria that threatened to send you into oblivion. A tingling in your lower belly is what brought you to push your hands through his hair once again, orgasm threatening to rip your sanity from you, leaving your body with nothing but a ledge to leap off of, and surely Jungkook would be the once to push you off it. He kept crashing his hips into yours; Once. Twice.. And the intense feeling of elation flooded through your mind and body into the utter turmoil of orgasm, eyes slamming shut with a white light teasing you towards blindness. Hanging on a thin line between exhilaration and obscurity, your mind came back enough to realize Jungkook was still going, ears deaf to your whimpers of oversensitivity, his hips threatening to shatter your pelvis with the jaw-dropping force he was slamming into you with. Little to no energy left in your body, you welcomed the tiredness. That was of course until you felt a firm thumb pressing against your clit, sending shockwaves of unhandling pleasure into your senses, and you knew that you would be a goner. Not much longer of the assault on your sensitive little nub, another leg shaking orgasm shattered you again, muscles going slack and bones turning to jelly as Jungkook once again tossed you into limbo, mind turning from pleasure to anonymity. It didn't take long for Jungkook's own pleasure to mount, his cock being so beautifully graced by your velvety walls, the perfect combination of pressure, heat, and wetness throwing him into his own stage of bliss. His consummation rocked through him, chest stuttering with the effort it took as he emptied into you, muscles spasming and he collapsed on top of you, mind fading into nothing as well. ~~ Well after the prodigious sex you two had, you laid on his chest, tracing over his pectoral muscles and down to his abs and back again. You could feel the stutter in his abdomen every time you did it, bodies still trembling from the stupendous climaxed you both received. He kissed the crown of your head, murmuring into your hair a question you never thought you'd hear. "Will you marry me?" You looked up into his eyes and you knew, you couldn't trade him for anyone. The only man that could make your heart tremble from happiness was Jeon Jeongguk. You nodded your reply and kissed his lips. "Am I forgiven?" "I said yes didn't I? Dork" He rolled on top of you, body pressing between your legs. "Round two?" ~ A/N: If anyone gives me shit for this, I swear to god I'll lose my entire mind. I was up at 5am editing and planning, I'm running on three hours of sleep, okay?  *words: 2308*

[elliearchive]

KISS ME UNDER THE LIGHT OF A THOUSAND STARS ➝ GRANBIN.

TAGGING ➝ Grant McCarthy, Robin St. James.

LOCATION ➝ A boat in Italy.

TIME FRAME ➝ 4/4, evening.

WARNINGS ➝ None.

NOTES ➝ Grant gets his Ed Sheeran on on a yacht in Rome.

GRANT MCCARTHY

Grant had never been happier in his entire life. Robin had said yes to his proposal, and even though that hadn’t been a surprise, he was still ecstatic about it, and they were still enjoying themselves in Rome. He still had a lot of things planned for the two of them on their trip, including the yacht ride he had planned for the evening. He definitely loved their low-key evenings together, but since they were in a different country, he wanted to show her everything she could possibly want to see. Plus, they were still celebrating their engagement. He sort of planned to celebrate their engagement forever. All of the actual wedding planning would have to be on her. He was still happily reeling from just her saying yes. “Close your eyes,” he chuckled out, holding onto her hand as he led her toward the dock. It was nice being able to see Caroline for a small part of the day, but she had already run off to spend the rest of her night with her friend. Grant was grateful for the time he got to spend with his daughter and the alone time he got with his girlfriend. So far, the trip was going absolutely perfect. He didn’t have any complaints. “Okay. You can open them,” he instructed as they reached the end of the dock. “How about a boat ride around the city, Mrs. McCarthy? Well, future Mrs. McCarthy,” He said with a grin. He took a step onto the boat and held his hand out to her to help her climb aboard as well.

ROBIN ST. JAMES

This trip was going to be perfect regardless of Grant asking the question he had. Robin had been excited to go to Rome with her favorite person, and he’d only made it even more special by asking her to be his wife. Robin really couldn’t think of anything she wanted more in the world, so of course she’d been wearing a constant smile ever since, continuously looking down at the ring on her finger to remind herself that she wasn’t dreaming, that this was actually happening. It was fortunate that she liked surprises, considering the huge one that had been him proposing to her, and now he apparently had something set up for them that she wasn’t allowed to know about beforehand. She trusted Grant, though. She’d trust him with anything, so after getting a dress code out of him, Robin had put on one of her favorite dresses, fixed her hair and makeup, and was now ready for a surprise date night with her fiancé. “What if I peek?” She teased, bringing her free hand up to her eyes and covering them. She wasn’t going to, of course. Robin simply held tightly onto Grant’s hand, letting him guide her. She could kind of tell what was going on anyway; it wasn’t like water was exactly silent. Her grin remained in place as she removed her hand from over her eyes, taking in the sight of the boat. “I would love to take a boat ride with you, Mr. McCarthy,” she smirked, taking ahold of his hand again and carefully stepping on beside him. “I like that, by the way,” she glanced up at him, keeping her hand firmly in his, “Mrs. McCarthy. I can’t wait to be your wife.” Her gaze scanned the boat around them, then landed on Grant’s face again, her voice softening some. “I think I really might be the luckiest girl in the world. Did you know that?”

GRANT MCCARTHY

Grant had gotten pretty used to traveling alone. During his time playing professional basketball, he would travel with the team, but spent the majority of his time, when he wasn’t playing basketball, by himself. It was definitely different for him to be on a family vacation. He had taken Caroline on vacations before, but they were so centered around her that he never really focused on how to have fun himself. Not that he minded, it was all about her anyway. It felt good to have a little bit of this trip dedicated to him and Robin. It was something he was getting used to. Focusing a little on his own happiness. It was definitely out of his nature. He couldn’t help but grin as Robin accepted his invitation for a boat ride. Usually he would have had the boat decked out with rose petals and champagne. The rose petals were still very prevalent, but he had opted against the champagne. If she couldn’t have any then he wouldn’t either. “Mrs. Robin McCarthy does have a pretty good ring to it,” he said with a smile. He couldn’t wait to make things official. It didn’t really matter to him if people thought all of it was too fast. He didn’t care what other people thought anyway. If the two of them were in love now then why would they wait to get married? Well, other than the fact that she was still technically married. “Don’t worry. I hired someone else to actually steer the boat. One thing I remembered from our helicopter date was that we couldn’t make out as much as we wanted to,” he chuckled, shaking his head. He found a seat on the couch, and sat down, motioning for her to join him. “We’ve been engaged for a short time now,” he started with a light laugh. “Have you already stared some wedding planning in your head?”

ROBIN ST. JAMES

Robin really wasn’t the type to spend vacations relaxing and not doing something at all times, but she was finding that it was different with Grant. She was happy to lay in their hotel bed together, or sit together on their balcony, to just generally be in one another’s company. A boat ride was like the best of both worlds, though. It meant doing something other than hanging out in the room, but also that she got to be with Grant, which was of course her favorite pastime. “It does, huh?” She grinned at the thought. “Grant Alexander McCarthy and Robin Alexandra McCarthy. That sounds like someone, somewhere knew we were going to be together eventually.” She had no doubts about that, though. Grant was her soulmate, they were always going to have found each other. Robin was grateful that they’d done so now, and that they got to spend the rest of their lives together. Officially now, too. Taking in the rose petals and the way he had things set up, Robin smiled to herself, nodding in agreement. “Good. I didn’t like not being able to touch you properly,” she admitted, taking a seat beside him. Robin’s dress was loose fitting enough that she could pull her feet up underneath her comfortably, scooting a little closer to Grant. “Do we have champagne? Or fake champagne, at least. Sparking cider would work. That’s what this is missing, fake champagne and maybe chocolate covered strawberries… And Five Guys fries.” Robin was almost staring off into the distance in thought of what was apparently her weird pregnancy vice. She shook her head, coming back to reality and focusing on her fiancé. “Mm, no, not yet. But off the top of my head, I think I want a purple theme. Like the tulip you gave me when you asked me to be your girlfriend. And I’d kind of like to wait until our baby is here, is that okay?” She glanced up at him. “How about you, do you have any ideas?”

GRANT MCCARTHY

The biggest challenge Grant had to face on this trip was keeping the proposal a secret. And now since that part was over, he could completely relax. The ring he had been carrying around in his suitcase was on Robin’s finger where it belonged. And that made him happy. He listened as she said their names together, smiling at how well they complemented each other. Up until meeting Robin he would have laughed at the idea of two people being destined to be together, but it wasn’t such a laughable idea anymore. He firmly believed that meeting Robin had to have been some form of kismet. “Our names do go really well together,” he said with a smirk. It did sound even better to hear her name paired with his last name. He could still remember the first time he’d referred to her by Scott’s last name and how much it had made his skin crawl. He couldn’t wait until that divorce was final. He wasn’t in a rush to get married. He knew that it would happen when it did, but he was in a rush to get her unattached to Scott. She didn’t deserve to be married to that guy anymore. Not when she had him now. He wrapped his arm around her as she curled up next to him, “I’m a great boyfriend. I thought of everything... Well, almost. I couldn’t get us any Five Guys here,” he said with a soft chuckle. He leaned down and opened the console beneath them, pulling out their cider and strawberries. He popped open the bottle and poured cider into their two glasses before leaning back and setting the bottle down in front of them. “Purple sounds great. I want whatever you want,” he replied with a shrug. “We can wait for the baby. He or she can definitely be a part of it,” he smirked, shaking his head. “I’ve never planned a wedding. If it were up to me, we’d just go to city hall and put some rings on, and just call it a night. But I know you probably want something big.”

ROBIN ST. JAMES

“They do,” Robin agreed, nodding her head, “But that doesn’t surprise me. I think we go really well together.” Which had been a little more of a surprise, considering how different they’d seemed when they’d first met. Evidently, opposites attract really was a thing, and they were living proof of it. Robin just needed Scott to see sense and sign the divorce papers, then she and Grant could officially begin their lives together. Her brow raised as Grant referred to himself as a great boyfriend. “Nope. You were a great boyfriend. But you’re not anyone’s boyfriend anymore. You are my fiancé now, sir.” Saying the title aloud brought a bright smile to her lips, and Robin’s gaze drifted down to the ring on her finger once more. It really was beautiful, Grant had done an excellent job at picking it out for her. Just like he had with the cider and strawberries. Robin’s eyes lit up when she saw them, eagerly accepting the glass and waiting for Grant to pour some into it for her, before immediately taking a sip. She let out a small, happy sigh. “Perfect. Let’s call this champagne and then I can pretend like that’s what it really is.” Expectant mothers were allowed a small amount of alcohol, but Robin wasn’t going to take her chances, especially considering she wasn’t supposed to drink with her medication anyway. It didn’t surprise her that he agreed with her color scheme, since Robin already figured this was all going to be up to her anyway, but it still made her smile appreciatively as she leaned over to grab a strawberry, laughing softly to herself. “We are not going to city hall. I don’t think my parents would forgive us, for one thing. And I want to wear a beautiful dress and make you cry happy tears when you see me walking down the aisle.” Robin took a small bite from the strawberry. “Caroline and the baby will both be in it, too.” She paused, holding the other half up to Grant’s mouth. “Open.”

GRANT MCCARTHY

The idea that the two of them went well together was sort of funny. They were so different. But it had been a part of his proposal to point it out. She loved life and was always smiling. And he only smiled when he was around her. And she loved flowers, and dancing and was always happy. He liked basketball and watching true crime documentaries. And... That was about it. A small bout of laughter escaped from his lips as she corrected him calling himself her boyfriend. He would have to get used to the word fiancé. He had never used it before. But that’s exactly what he was. He was her fiancé. “Fiancé, huh? I’m still getting used to that. But I couldn’t be happier,” he mumbled out with a grin. Making Robin happy came easy to him. If there was a way for him to find Five Guys in Rome, then he would have pulled it off. “If we’re calling this champagne then we’ll have to actually toast something,” he said lifting up his glass and bringing it to his lips. He knew exactly what he wanted to toast. Clearly, he wanted to celebrate the two of them. There was still a great deal of happiness bubbling around in his head, still reeling from her saying yes to his proposal. He let out some laughter at her saying they weren’t going to City Hall. He was not surprised by that. That’s why she was better off planning any nuptials between the two of them because he would have planned the smallest wedding ever. Barely recognizable as a wedding. He was about to open his mouth to say something when she instructed that he open it for other reasons, he grinned and opened wide, taking a bite of the strawberry she offered out to him. He brought his hand up and attempted to wipe some of the chocolate off his lips before chuckling and leaning forward to press his lips against hers for a moment. He pulled away and laughed, attempting to wipe more of the smeared chocolate off his lips. “I will get married in any wedding you want.”

ROBIN ST. JAMES

Robin had been a girlfriend before. She’d been a fiancée and a wife before. But the titles meant nothing in comparison to what they meant with Grant. She tried not to have regrets, but if she could take everything back, and if Grant could be her first and only fiancé and eventual husband, she would. Since she couldn’t, she would just focus on their future. Them and their babies. “Mhm, and I’m your fiancée. And you’ll be my husband soon,” she grinned, leaning closer to press her lips delicately to his cheek. “You’re right. What ever could we toast?” Robin teased, pretending to think, though lifted her glass. “How about a toast to my perfect fiancé, and everything he does for me. For all of us, in fact.” Her free hand lowered to settle over her stomach, wanting their baby to be apart of their moment. If Caroline was here too, then it’d be perfect. It was crazy how much deeper Robin could fall in love with Grant every single day, because she felt like it wasn’t possible. Like she already loved him to the point of her heart almost bursting, but evidently he could still surprise her. She watched as he bit into the strawberry, setting the leftovers to the side, then grinned against his lips as he leaned in. “You’re so messy,” she laughed softly, licking the chocolate from her lips once he’d pulled away. Robin leaned forward to press her lips to Grant’s again, helping him out with his chocolate mess. “Better.” She smirked, pulling back to look at him. “We have time to figure out wedding arrangements. By the way,” she tilted her head slightly, “Did you ask my dad first? I know he’s super goofy, but he’s kind of traditional, too. If you didn’t ask him, you probably should do that quickly before they find out and we can pretend like you didn’t ask me yet.” Robin’s free hand instinctively found Grant’s. “I know it’s definitely a long way off, but have you thought about any names you like yet? For the baby.”

GRANT MCCARTHY

“Your husband?” Grant echoed, raising an eyebrow at her. “I do love the idea of being your only husband,” he teased with a smirk. Grant had made it pretty damn obvious that he only wanted Robin. And the idea of standing up in front of friends (mostly hers) and family (still mostly hers) and being able to tell the world just how dedicated he was to her, actually made him happy. Speaking in front of large crowds of people wasn’t his thing, but if his baby wanted a big wedding then she was going to get one. And there was no way they were going to have a wedding that didn’t consist of him saying nice things about her in front of everyone. Everyone needed to know how he felt about her since she’d been trapped in a relationship with someone who didn’t treat her as well publicly. “How about we toast to my perfect fiancé? And the grumpy guy she’s decided to marry?” He teased, leaning down to press a small kiss against her belly. He had missed all of this bonding with the baby before it was born with Caroline, so sometimes he found himself instinctively resting his hand on his belly or leaning down to talk to it, even though he was pretty certain the baby didn’t have ears yet. It felt nice to feel her lips against his again, even if they were just smearing chocolate around a little too much. “I called your dad. He thought I was joking at first,” Grant said, shaking his head. “I spent forty minutes convincing him that it wasn’t a trick and that I was really proposing to you. I had to send him a picture of your ring.” He let out a small chuckle, He raised his eyebrow at her next question, thinking it over. “You know Caroline’s gonna want voting rights when it comes to her sibling’s name? Trust me. I know that kid.” His eyes drifted down to Robin’s belly as he shrugged his shoulders. “If it’s a boy, I kind of want to end the Grant Alexander tradition. He doesn’t need to share a name with me and my Dad.”

ROBIN ST. JAMES

“My husband,” Robin repeated, blue eyes practically glistening with the thought. She wasn’t even trying to entertain the idea of Grant being her ‘only’ husband; as far as she was concerned, Scott was in the past. Everything was about she and Grant now. She watched as Grant leaned down to press his lips to her stomach, the feeling making Robin both laugh and swell with pride at the sight. “You’re adorable,” she commented, nodding her head as she clinked her glass against his. “A toast to us and our family, how about that?” As terrified as she’d been of her body changing before, she was kind of excited for them to start being able to actually see signs of their baby growing in there. Other than her stomach feeling a little harder than usual now, there really wasn’t anything to see. It would make all of Grant’s adorable little gestures, the way he would kiss and talk to her belly, only ten times more adorable once there was an actual bump. “I love you. We love you. I also love your chocolate kisses.” She grinned, licking over her lips, before taking another sip of cider as she listened to him. It was a relief to hear; Robin hated lying to her parents. “Okay, good. Thank you for doing that. I’ll call them in a little bit, I’m sure they’ve been ready to burst ever since you told them.” Her fingers laced with Grant’s, her lips tugging into a smirk. “That’s fair, she can have a say. I like Grant Alexander, but it was always kind of confusing growing up with my mom calling both my dad and my sister Roman, so okay, no more Grant Alexanders. I do like Alexander as a middle name, though.” She thought for a moment. “We could do a theme like my parents did with me, Roman and Regan. A name beginning with C like Caroline.” Robin paused, amusement crossing her face. “Oh, and Clover and Calla Lily. Man, did you even realize we’d done that?”

GRANT MCCARTHY

Grant was completely enamored with the idea of starting this family with Robin. It was a part of the motivation for why he proposed. He was so ready to move forward. They were having a fresh start together, a new beginning, like those purple tulips he had given her on their first real date. This was their new beginning together. And Grant was ecstatic about where it could go. “A toast to our family,” he echoed as their glasses clinked together. He brought the glass to his lips and took a small sip. He knew that the baby was still pretty small, especially since Robin didn’t look pregnant at all, but that didn’t stop him from trying to bond with the baby now. “I love you, too. And I love this little one. I actually can’t wait until we tell Caroline. I love our family, Robin,” he breathed out with a smirk. He knew it was still slightly early to clue Caroline in, but he was tired of hiding it from her. She was one of the people he wanted to tell the most. At first, he was worried that she was going to have to share her dad, but he had grown a lot more faith in her recently. He was actually certain that she was going to be excited about it. “My parents actually called me Junior when I was growing up. I hated it,” he said, shaking his head. He listened to her speak with a confused look. He hadn’t caught onto the theme of the C’s in their life together, but was clearly a pattern. “I never noticed that. It’s such a coincidence,” he chuckled, shrugging his shoulders. “I love that idea though. Little baby C. I’ll call them baby Cupcake for now though as a placeholder.”

ROBIN ST. JAMES

Loving Grant was easy, it was natural. It was like something Robin should’ve been doing her whole life, and she knew that he felt the same way. He told her plenty, and she could just see it in his actions, in the way he’d look at her or how he’d talk to their barely formed baby. “I know you do, baby,” she grinned, nodding her head. “You know, we should just tell her. I mean, she knows we’re getting married, and this is her little brother or sister.” Robin glanced down at her stomach, then back up to her fiancé, an almost sympathetic smile stretching onto her lips. “I know that it’s not a good idea to tell too many people, not in these early stages, but I think that Caroline should know. I think she’ll be excited, but I also think she’ll need some time to adjust. We should give her that.” Since the two of them had spoken last week about how she wasn’t overstepping with his daughter, Robin felt more comfortable with giving her two cents where the younger girl was concerned. She was technically going to be her step-mother now, so it made sense. She grinned at the thought of Grant’s childhood nickname. “Junior? That’s adorable. I prefer Grant, though.” She scooted closer to him, curling into his side with her feet still comfortably tucked up underneath her. “Or my handsome fiancé. Whichever one I’m feeling at the time.” It wasn’t even surprising that they’d somehow managed to start a whole theme with their names. It was probably just another part of the fact that they were definitely soulmates, Robin figured. It still made her laugh a little bit, though. “Baby Cupcake. I think that’s a great placeholder,” she agreed, leaning up to press her lips gently to Grant’s again. She just had to be touching him at all times, she couldn’t help herself. “Here’s a big question for you.” She brought her free hand up to settle under his chin. “Are you going to dance with me at our wedding?”

GRANT MCCARTHY

Grant wasn’t really a man of many words. But he had always been a man of action, so showing Robin that he loved her came more naturally to him than just saying it. Even showing her that he was interested in her in the first place had been easier than just coming right out and saying it. The way he had wrapped his arm around her when she was upset or how he’d stared at her lips when she was close to him. It was obvious that his mind was on something other than friendship at the start of their relationship, but it had definitely been a lot easier to just show her subtly than to shout it from the rooftops. But now? No, now he was definitely going to be shouting it. He proud of the way he loved Robin and the way she loved him back. “I think you’re right,” he said with a nod. “I’m ready to tell her if you are. Let’s do it before we leave,” he offered up with a small smile. He figured there was no way she could be upset about it if they told her while she was in Rome, but he couldn’t be sure. He was just happy they were getting it all out there. “Your ring was Caroline approved as well, by the way. I had her check it out.” Grant loved how much Robin cared about his daughter. She had instantly cared about her and that made his heart swell. All he wanted was for the three of them to click as a family and it was already off to a great start. “I like it when you call me baby. I think that’s my favorite,” he said with a grin. Although, he liked whatever Robin called him. He raised his eyebrow at her as she pulled away from their kiss, shaking his head at her question. “Babe. I don’t dance. You know that,” he said with a sigh. “I don’t want to ruin our wedding with my dance moves.”

ROBIN ST. JAMES

Although she was more comfortable with having a say where Caroline was concerned, Robin still wanted Grant to get the final word in. Caroline was his daughter, and Robin was always going to be respectful of that. She was glad that he seemed to be in agreement with her, though. Then again, that wasn’t surprising; they were always in agreement apparently. “Perfect. I guess Carolyn, too. I don’t think we’re ever going to get one of them without the other. She’s a really good friend to her, huh?” Robin had noticed that right away, and it made her happy to know that Grant’s daughter had people around her that she could trust. Robin had only been in Grant’s spotlight for a short amount of time, and already she was feeling how difficult it could be. Caroline had had to deal with it her whole life. “It was?” She smirked, looking down at the ring again. Every time she’d see it, she seemed to have forgotten just how beautiful it was, and it caught her by surprise each time. “Well, the two of you have very good taste. I’m very appreciative.” She also liked that that meant Caroline approved of them, and of her father marrying someone. Not that she doubted that; she felt like the two of them had gotten along pretty well from the start. But it was nice to have that confirmation. “I’m glad. I call you baby the most,” she shrugged, though she made a mental note regardless. What her baby wanted, her baby would get. Not when it came down to him trying to get out of dancing at their wedding, though. Robin laughed at his reaction, sitting herself up a little. “You are so not getting away with not dancing with me at our wedding, Grant McCarthy. We’re going to pick a super romantic song, and we’re going to look into each other’s eyes and dance together.” She said adamantly, taking another sip of her cider, before setting the glass down and pushing herself up to her feet. Robin straightened out her dress, then held out her hand to her fiancé. “Come on, I’ll show you. Dance with me right now.”

GRANT MCCARTHY

Grant didn’t mind sharing his parenting duties with Robin. He would have to be ready for it when baby Cupcake came along anyway. Plus, it would be good for Caroline. He was used to sharing his duties with Jessica and Caroline’s step-father. He always made sure to leave it known that Caroline only had one dad. Him. She just also happened to have a step-father, but those two things were not the same. At least not in his mind. That was a duty he was unwilling to share. Maybe it was selfish, maybe it was petty, but he didn’t care. “Yeah. They’ve been friends for a while. It’s hard to keep close friends when you have so many followers on Instagram, but our girl’s got her head on straight,” Grant said with a nod. It was definitely hard living in his world, but Caroline was born into it. With him and his sisters, she was going to be adjacent to the spotlight for the rest of her life. Was it hard? Definitely, but he knew that he and Jessica had raised a daughter that was strong enough to handle it. Not that he was willing to dish out compliments to Jessica. That wasn’t something he ever did. “I wasn’t going to ask unless she approved of it. And she did. She does. She told me that she’s happy for us and she loves me. Just the short time that you’ve been in our lives, you’ve helped my relationship with my daughter so much,” he said with a small smile. It was true. Caroline adored Robin and finally approved of a decision her dad had made. It helped the two of them grow closer. He frowned as she insisted that he would have to dance at their wedding. Of course, he was going to end up doing it. When did he ever say no to Robin. He sighed as he reached out for her hand, pushing himself up so he was standing with her. “There’s no music,” he mumbled out, scrunching up his face. “Which is probably for the best because I’d be off rhythm anyway.”

ROBIN ST. JAMES

Caroline really was an awesome kid, there was no doubt about that, but more so she was a part of Grant. She was understandably the most important thing to him, so Robin liked that he was willing to share something so special with her. The way he called her ‘our’ girl made her smile. “She does, she’s super smart. Just like her dad,” she agreed, hearts practically forming in her eyes as she looked over at her fiancé. Complimenting him came naturally to her, and not just because Robin was generally very free with that stuff. Grant was the love of her life, he was easy to compliment. She listened as he spoke about his daughter, her smile natural in response. “I’m glad. I think your relationship was always great, I’m sure she was just waiting to see her dad happy with someone. And I think I do make you happy. I know you make me happy, Grant.” He would give her the world if he could, she knew that. He’d do anything to make her happy. All he actually had to do was exist, though; everything else was just a bonus. She knew it wouldn’t take much convincing to have him agreeing to dance with her. “You don’t always need music,” she shrugged, taking his hand and helping him up. “But here, let’s see.” Robin kept ahold of Grant’s hand, but reached down to the seat to pick up her phone. She knew Ed Sheeran would totally have her back. Hitting play on Thinking Out Loud, she set her phone back down, letting the music play through the speaker, then took ahold of Grant’s other hand. “You don’t have to do anything fancy,” she insisted, bringing Grant’s arms around her waist, and then letting go of his hands. Her own arms found their way around his neck, with Robin looking up to meet Grant’s gaze. “Now just move your feet. Just like me.” She did as she was saying, the movement of her feet helping her to sway a little with her arms around her fiancé. “Do you know this song?” She asked in a soft voice, wanting to distract him. It was always easier to dance when you weren’t thinking about it. “Sing it to me.”

GRANT MCCARTHY

Grant could list off a million things that he hated. That list was far and wide, but the list of things, or rather people, that he loved was a lot smaller. It mostly just consisted of the woman who was with him right now and his daughter. And maybe his sisters, Addie, and Kristy, but that was as far as it stretched. So, it meant the world to him that the love of his life had embraced the other most important woman in his life with so much love and care. It was one of his favorite things about Robin; the way she’d immediately treated his daughter so well. “You do make me happy. I hope you know that,” he said with a smile. His relationship with his daughter was never broken, it was mostly just bogged down by his own insecurities that he hadn’t been around enough when she was growing up. It was obvious that his daughter thought he was a total dork, but that didn’t mean she didn’t love him. And Robin had assisted with him being able to see that. He knew he was lucky to have her in his life. Grant watched as Robin reached for her phone, preparing himself to have to dance. He followed her lead and rested his arms around her waist, attempting to sway along with her. It was a little easier than he remembered, but he was still not great at it. “You’ve heard me sing before. You really want to hear it again?” He teased, shaking his head. He definitely knew the song. Having a teenage daughter that always had to be in control of what they were listening to in the car had adjusted his taste in music. A small sigh escaped from his lips as he lowered his head, whispering out the words of the song against her ear. It was a little easier to move his body when he was more worried about singing along with the song.

ROBIN ST. JAMES

It was clear that they both made each other happy. The way they’d act around one another, the way they were so instantly comfortable in each other’s presence, it all showed how infinitely happy they were together, and Robin responded with a soft smile and a nod of her head. “I do know it.” She liked that, the fact that she had a positive impact on Grant just like he did on her. There were things he didn’t know about her yet, but moments like this made it easier to consider telling him; she knew he would never judge her, just like she would never judge him. Of course, there was a big difference between what’d happened with she and her sister and with Grant not being the world’s best singer or dancer, but still. She wasn’t trying to focus on the negatives right now, not when she was so happily wrapped up in her fiancé. She tightened her arms as they danced together, her eyes closing as she listened to him singing softly by her ear. “I love you so much,” she whispered in response, bringing one arm back to settle her hand delicately on his cheek, moving his face down to press her lips against his. Robin instantly parted hers, deepening the kiss right away. She didn’t want to pull away from him, she wanted to be as close to him as possible. “Pick me up,” she mumbled against his lips.

GRANT MCCARTHY

Grant had grown pretty accustomed to a life with Robin in it. Ever since the moment she’d moved in, his place had instantly become their place. And his life had become their life together. The transition had happened with ease, something that Grant never saw coming. He always thought committing to someone was going to be extremely hard. He was such a particular guy that the idea of having to share every waking moment of his life with another person seemed impossible, but now he loved it. He loved every second they spent together. And he tried to make it as obvious as possible to her that he loved her. He didn’t want to leave her guessing and to make her feel unwanted like she had in her last relationship. That was the last thing he wanted for her. He smiled softly as he heard her whisper that she loved him. “I love you, too,” he mumbled out, pausing his soft singing to reply to her. Before he could continue to sing along with the song, he felt her lips pressed up against his and he wasn’t going to complain about it. He’d pick kissing her over singing any day. Well, he’d picked kissing her over just about anything else in the world. He immediately responded to her deepening their kiss by parting his own lips, his tongue sliding out against her own. He nodded his head at her command and tightened the grip he had on her waist, pulling her as close to him as he could before lifting her off the ground. He spun them around, slightly to the beat, but he wasn’t very worried about music or dancing anymore. He crashed his lips back onto hers as he held her up, his hand resting against her back. It was nice to see that being pregnant nor getting engaged had really slowed down how much the two of them wanted each other. “Mrs. McCarthy,” he breathed out, pulling away slightly. “Have I told you today that you are the sexiest woman I have ever met?”