#“It's just something you might want to think about” “oh no I have. for a while. I just don't know where to start and that's kind of

[supermenz]

not a lot, just forever

summary: Kyle Rayner's ecstatic to learn about your pregnancy — you are too, but that doesn't exempt you from being a little scared of telling your family. Weirdly enough, the last one to find out is, apparently, the world's best detective himself.

pairing(s): kyle rayner x batsis!reader, platonic!batfamily x batsis!reader

word count: 7.5k

warnings: pregnancy (duh), vomit, swearing, bruce is GOING THROUGH IT, mentioned that reader has a therapist, reader was adopted before dick and was the first batgirl, mostly fluff, mention of reader's parents dying, every similarity between damian and dick was intended and premeditated, nothing else i think?

author's note: might feel rushed because I'm trying to learn to write summed up one shots instead of fucking books💔💔💔I love writing long fics but I often lose interest in them and after 30 pages and 16k words I really don't need that. this is also a love letter to milka's cookies because I am hungry and technically on a diet but I want them so bad

dividers from @uzmacchiato!

You’ve been dating Kyle Rayner for three years and living together for one when it happens. 

Your period’s two weeks late. You don’t think much about it until the nausea and weird cravings start kicking in — and if there’s one thing Bruce taught you right, is to be aware of your body’s signals about something being off; another thing he’s unfortunately passed down to you is the ability to go completely blank in situations that require the emotional stability that neither of you has.

(No wonder Kyle had spent years trying to get you to agree to a single date — you weren’t even mentally prepared for one.) 

So when you spend a whole day throwing up — which, by the way, you never do — there’s only two possibilities in your head: it’s either a weird space virus that Kyle brought home from last week’s mission or pregnancy. Your bet’s on the space virus, but first it’s better to ensure that the latter is not an option, and your chance presents itself when your dearest boyfriend — tired and sad of hearing you suffer — gets ready to go to the store to buy the ingredients needed for chicken noodle soup. 

He still insists that his mother's recipe is much better than Alfred’s one — also, a miracle that you got yourself a partner that knows how to cook, because growing up with Bruce Wayne also means being unable to light a single stove. Alfred tried his best to teach you how to, but not even him knows how to make miracles happen. 

Kyle kisses your temple and hums, “I’ll be back soon, I promise,” he says, brushing your hair out of your forehead. He’s been tied to your side all day even if he’s got a deadline just next week and hasn’t even started drawing the first panels, and if you weren’t as stoic as you usually are, you would swoon for him. “Ah, could you buy another thing for me at the store?” you ask casually, cheek leaning against the cold tile of the toilet for comfort. 

He nods, “Anything you want, babe.”

“A pregnancy test,” you say it like it’s the most normal thing ever, “and a Milka cookies sensation pack. The XL one.” 

Kyle blinks, and you can almost see his brain short-circuiting in that thick head of his. “Oh.” he blurts out, “I… okay. Yeah, yeah, I can do that.” 

He’s going to come back home spiraling, you think as the door closes. 

“Okay, I’m totally not spiraling right now,” he says as soon as he gets back home, plastic bag in hand, hair messy from the wind outside, “Like, are you sure it could be pregnancy? How long have you known? Because these aren’t the kind of things that you just guess, right? Are there specific symptoms?”

You sigh from your place on the couch and get up to rummage through the bag as he continues yapping, “I mean, should I have noticed? Could I have noticed?” the yapping doesn’t stop as you take the test he bought and go back to the bathroom, because he follows you and continues talking while you pee on the stick and hope to not wet your hand, “Do you even want kids?” you place the test on the counter and wash your hands, “I mean– I do, and I would love to have a baby with you, but we’ve never talked about it and with the whole ‘tragic childhood with an emotionally unavailable father’ thing you have going on I’m not sure you’d want that and you don’t have to worry about what I want– it’s totally your choice and I’ll be there whatever you want to do–” 

You turn and take his face into your hand, squeezing his cheeks and making his lips pucker. “Kyle.”

His voice comes out a bit muffled, “Yeah?” 

“You’re spiraling.” 

His shoulders sag a bit. “I am. Are you not?”

You blink, “We’re adults in a healthy relationship, Ky. Even if I’m on birth control, I think at least one pregnancy scare was bound to happen.” you raise an eyebrow, “I am surprised that it wasn’t earlier on, though.” 

“Okay. Okay.” his foot’s been tapping on the floor since he got back from the store, “Um– how long do we have to wait? For the test to show the results, I mean. I bought the most expensive one just in case and I hope it wasn’t a scam, because if it was I will cry.”  

“It probably was,” you didn’t even know that brands of pregnancy tests were a thing until now, and you highly doubt that one is more reliable than the others. He’s already got tears in his eyes, but you continue, “But I do appreciate the thought, honey, thanks.” 

He sniffles, nuzzling into your hand, “The pleasure’s mine,” he just hopes that the test is the right one, because as much as he knows how to cook, the premium adult in the house it’s you. You do the taxes, make sure the bills and rent are paid — God, is he a sugar baby? Because with the trust fund and place at Wayne Enterprises that you have, he might as well be. His job as a comic book artist probably looks like a kid’s summer job in comparison. 

The timer from your phone buzzes — when did you even set up a timer? — and your hand flies to the test, angling it under the bathroom’s light to see better the results. “Fuuuck.” it’s not a ‘Fuck, this shouldn’t have happened’, it’s more a ‘Fuck, it’s kinda crazy that this is happening’ kinda fuck. 

Kyle peeks from behind your shoulder, “Lemme see–” you hold out the test for him to take, and he gapes. “Stop.” It comes out as a much less virile ‘Stawwwp!’ and soon enough, he’s jumping around the house with a test showing the words [PREGNANT — 3+] written on the screen. “I’m gonna be a dad! I’m gonna be a dad! I’m gonna be–” he stops once his hopping brings him back to the bathroom and looks at you with his big doe eyes, “I mean, uh… am I gonna be a dad?” he’s not begging — he would never force you to do anything you don’t want to. He just needs confirmation.

You huff, and a rare smile blesses your face. “Yeah,” you murmur, eyes soft, “you’re gonna be a dad.” 

He whoops, hoisting you up by the waist and spinning you around, all while continuing chanting “I’m gonna be a dad!” over and over again. He stops every once in a while just to place kisses everywhere his lips can reach, smothering you in love and spit.

You let him, mentally already making a list of things to buy — a house, first of all, then a crib, onesies and all of that — and the medical appointments to schedule — OB-GYN and, oh God, your therapist’s going to have to work overtime to make sure you don’t mess this baby up with your ears worth of trauma. 

But, of course, you don’t say anything — not now. You don’t want to ruin the moment, and more than anything, you don’t want to think about the hardest part of the journey ahead of you — that is, telling your father. 

The first months you make sure to keep things low-key, mostly to assure that everything goes well before you tell anyone about the baby. 

You go to your appointments, take your vitamins and try not to stress about everything going on at Wayne Enterprises — because at the end of the day, you always come home to Kyle, and you two look for houses in the nicest neighborhoods that Gotham has to offer as he rubs the expensive ointment for stretch marks that you bought on your belly (even if it’s mostly useless, as you’re not even showing yet, you don’t tell him to stop, because he’s got hands that just know how to give a great massage — you make a mental note to yourself to ask him for a back massage one of these days). 

You tell Bruce about your search in the house market just in case he knows someone on Crest Hill who’s thinking about selling their property, because that’s honestly the nicest zone in Gotham and it’s the same where the Manor is, so he’s bound to know some of the neighbors. He frowns at your question, grimacing a bit, “You two are… buying a house? Isn’t it too early for that?” 

You raise an eyebrow, “Dad, we’ve been together for three years — I think that’s more than enough.” 

His frown deepens. “But you two aren’t even married. Not that you have to move in together, but aren’t you two a tad bit too young to buy a house together?”

“You had two kids at my age.” 

“I don’t think you’ve ever taken me as inspiration, so that doesn’t count.” 

You roll your eyes, “Do you know if any of the people living on Crest Hill are selling their house or not?” 

He sighs. “I’ll let you know.” 

Later that day, when you’re laid down on the couch and half napping as Kyle cooks dinner, you get a message from him with your response. Henry Solten’s selling one of his houses. Nice garden, two-story house with an attic. I can see it to get you two a tour if you want. Tell me if it was what you were looking for. 

You look a bit more into it, and you’ve gotta admit that Solten’s house is nice — suspiciously what you and Kyle were looking for, actually. Big enough for a kid — and any that might follow, for that — and your boyfriend looks as pleased as you about it. You two agree to still wait for the second trimester to make any permanent decision, but set up an appointment through Bruce for next week to see it in person. I can probably get you a favouring price, your father adds in one of his texts, even if he has to know that between your exorbitant salary and embarrassing trust fund any price is not a problem — because he’s the one who made sure of that. 

That same night you go to bed with your belly feeling pleasantly warm thanks to Kyle’s pasta, and as you’re between dream’s world and the real one you hear something. “Psst. Hey.” 

It takes you a moment to realize that Kyle’s not talking to you — he’s talking to the baby. His hands come up to your hips, gently raising your shirt as he presses his ear to your belly. “I know you can’t hear me — you kinda don’t have ears yet. You’re just a weird blob of cells for now, I guess, but it's not fair that your mom gets to spend the whole day with you and I can’t get a minute alone with you, is it? This is me making it fair.” 

He presses a soft peck to your bellybutton, nuzzling into the soft skin of your midriff, “I love you and your mom so much, kid. You can’t even imagine.” it’s a miracle you don’t burst into tears, really. 

After that, you let him have his ‘alone time’ with the baby, even if most of the time you’re awake — it actually lulls you to sleep, Kyle babbling about everything and anything to a baby that isn’t even a baby and can’t hear right now. It makes you wonder if Bruce would’ve done that for you, were you his biological daughter — you know for sure that your biological father didn’t. 

You buy Solten’s house — against all of Bruce’s protests to let him pay for it — one week after the start of your second trimester, and thanks to all the strings that the Wayne name can move in real estate, the procedure of buying it is much quicker and easier than it would’ve been normally. The process of moving soon starts, and Kyle spends half the time grumbling about not being allowed to use the ring to move all the boxes down the apartment to the rented truck you got in one go and the other half telling you to please not lift anything heavier than a pillow. 

It’s during the last day of packing boxes and getting them into the truck — you don’t even know you had so many things, by the way — that you tell Damian about the baby, even if it wasn’t really in your plans. 

He comes over to the apartment after hearing from Bruce that you’re moving out, hands in his pockets in the most nonchalant way a twelve-year-old kid that’s basically three apples tall can manage. “Heard you were making the worst decision of your life and thought I’d step by,” he mumbles, inviting himself in and down-right slumping on the couch that you had yet to bring to the new house. 

Damian’s distaste for Kyle isn’t something new — nor the distaste your whole family has for him — but you know better than that. You know that behind their voiced doubts and teases lies fondness and just mild concern. You ruffle his hair, going to the kitchen to get the snacks you keep there just for him, “Fought with Bruce again?”

He freezes. “Your ability to always guess right about things like that scares me.” 

“Oooh, the Damian Wayne scared? I must’ve scored really big.” you pat his head, dropping the paprika carrot chips you took out of the pantry in his lap while lowering your elbows to rest on the couch’s headrest, “Kid, I’ve been with Bruce before the Justice League was even a thing. I know that frown because it’s the same one I had at your age when he made me mad. C’mon, spit it out.” 

“He’s just been so annoying these past few months!” oh, God, here we go, “It’s always ‘We’re not doing enough, Robin’ and ‘Maybe you should step away from the scene for a bit, Robin’ — well, what about he steps away from the scene for a bit? He’s the one who’s been hogging all the limelight since the dinosaurs were still around!” It could be a joke, but knowing Damian, he’s referring to the giant dinosaur kept in the Batcave — which would make the saying ‘since dinosaurs were around’ quite true. 

“It’s just weird, you know? He just started acting like this out of the blue. One day he was happy about how we were doing with the criminals, and the next, BOOM! We’re not doing enough because some of them are still around. What am I supposed to say? It’s his fault if after twenty years and counting in the business the city’s yet to be cleaned out from all the scum of the slums.”

He starts angrily munching on his chips, and if that’s how he treats those poor fried carrots, you don’t want to think about how he’d deal with the supposed 'scum of the slums' if Bruce wasn’t looking. The things he’s saying are weird, though — while Bruce has always thought he wasn’t doing enough, it’s not usual for him to voice out these feelings. He mostly understands that there’s only so much he can do, so venting to Damian of all people about not doing enough is completely bonkers. “I’m starting to think someone has possessed him to irritate me to death,” he grumbles out, cheeks puffed out like a hamster. 

You almost melt. God, you love your little brother so much. And that’s when you decide that maybe — just maybe — telling him about the baby wouldn’t be such a bad idea. Just to keep up his morale. “Hey, Dames,” you murmur gently, brushing the hair out of his face — he really needs a haircut. “Do you still have Bitey?”

Bitey’s the first toy you ever owned, and a gift from Bruce from when you first moved into Wayne Manor. It’s a grey wolf plushie that’s definitely seen some things, as you passed it down to all your siblings once they came to live in the Manor, but it always got back to you in one way or another — all of them have always returned it, even if you never asked for them to. Now, you feel bad about asking Damian to give it back in just a few months, but it’s for the sake of the tradition of having Bitey passed down. 

He squints, looking at you suspiciously, “…I do.” he really can’t tell you that he’s been sleeping with it since you gave it to him. “Why?” 

You shrug, “Um… you know, I usually wouldn’t ask this, but could you give it back to me in, say… a few months?” 

He gasps. “No way! You’ve never asked Grayson or Todd or Drake or Cass to give it back– why me? I have the right to keep Bitey until I deem it appropriate for it to be returned to you–” he goes on as you reach for a folder on the kitchen table, passing it to him as he goes on, “What’s this? Whatever it is, sister, it won’t make me overlook the blatant favoritism that you showed towards the othe... oh.” 

It’s the hospital folder, the one with the latest ultrasounds showing the mass of cells that’s building up to be your baby. Damian gasps, “I think I should be happy for you — but the only concern I have right now is that the baby isn’t Rayner’s. Please, tell me you have cheated on him.”

You frown. “That’s not a nice thing to say, Damian.” 

“Please! He’s a total cretin!”

You wave your hand at him, “That’s not true–”

At that moment, the front door opens. Kyle emerges from the hallway of your complex, voice ringing out throughout the apartment, “Hey, babe, have you seen the boxes with my comics? They weren’t in the truck when I–” he promptly falls face down after tripping on a box labelled in bold, red ink, KYLE’S COMICS, making Damian point the scene like an obvious proof as you sigh, exasperated. “See? What did I tell you!” 

Kyle merely raises his face from the floor, smiling at your brother, “Oh, hey Damian! Didn’t know you were coming over.” 

You make Damian swear on his life that he’s not going to tell anyone about the pregnancy yet before he goes back to the Manor, and he scoffs as he does it. “Please, sister, do not think of me so low to be confiding in the others about such things.” 

The fourth month of the pregnancy comes around, and with it the realness of it all. As you get used to the new house, you also start preparing the nursery, and Kyle comes back from every morning run with a different souvenir — a plushie, a onesie, you name it. The time to tell the family about the pregnancy gets closer and closer, and with it your brothers’ unexpected visits seem to multiply, because two weeks after moving to Crest Hill Dick presents himself at your door unannounced. 

It’s Kyle who gets the door, and he happily greets your brother — the only member of your family who actually kinda likes him. “Heard you two bought a house and thought I’d pass by,” he says as your boyfriend invites him inside, “y’know, to see my sister be the responsible adult I’ll never manage to be,” 

You get down from the upper floor at that moment and frown at the sight of your brother swaying on the balls of his feet. One look at his face is all you need. “What did B tell you this time?” 

He groans, “God, you’re too good at this game,” he slumps on the new couch without too many problems and starts ranting. “I’m really happy that I’ve moved to Bludhaven, you know? Because he’s been unbearable as of lately, and I don’t know how long I will manage to stand him. He’s running the Manor like the navy and I’m suffering the consequences of it. Damian’s sneaking out more and more to hang around my flat and he says that nothing’s wrong but I know that something happened.” he finally looks at you, distressed, “Do you know something? Is it like some virus spreading around these days or what?” 

You raise an eyebrow as you and Kyle get comfortable on the sofa in front of him, skeptical. “I mean, Damian told me something about it, but no. I’ve seen Bruce pretty much every day at work and he looks like the same ol’ guy to me.” 

“Could this be about Poison Ivy’s last break out?” Kyle asks, his arm slung over your shoulders, “I knew he was beating himself up for it, and I tried to help, but he refused. Said he’d handled these things alone for the last two decades and didn’t want or need my help.” 

You facepalm, “God, he’s always so– so insufferable when it comes to needing some help. I don’t understand, what’s the problem with it?” 

Dick looks at you blankly, “One time I asked you if you needed some help in cleaning out your weapon inventory and you told me that getting help was for the weak.”

You wave your hand at him, “That was a long time ago, I was young,” 

He blinks, unamused, “That was two weeks ago.” 

Kyle chuckles as you groan, “Okay, maybe we have problems with getting help in this family, but it’s not like we can send him to a therapist like he did to me. He couldn’t even tell them one quarter of his problems– at least I can tell mine half of them. Besides, he doesn't even really do things alone; he's got you, Babs, Damian, Alfred–” 

“Well, I was actually wondering if you could talk to him,” Dick adds, a little… embarrassed? Is that embarrassment on Dick Grayson’s face? “Just… not as your civilian self, y’know. I was thinking that if your Batgirl were to come out just a little bit again–”

“No,” the reply comes simultaneously from both you and Kyle, stern, even if you doubt that the motives are completely the same. For him, it’s because you’re pregnant, for you… well, for you it’s because Batgirl has carried too much in her life for you to go back to her. “Dick, I left that life behind a lot of time ago. If you want, I can try to talk to Bruce, but I’m never stepping back into the costume. Not now, not ever.”

His hands are joined like in prayer, “Please, not even a little easter egg comparison, blink-and-you’ll-miss-it?”

“No,” your answer is final, “there’s a reason I stopped being Batgirl, okay? And you out of all people should respect my decision even more.” you cross your arms as Kyle’s hand goes to your bicep, rubbing it delicately to comfort you, “I’ll talk to Bruce. Is there anything else you need or can you just go?” 

He smiles sheepishly, “Actually, could I use the bathroom?” 

You sigh. “Upstairs, first door on the left.” 

Off he goes, leaving you and your boyfriend alone with your thoughts. “Maybe your father’s having, like, a midlife crisis or something,” he whispers, “y’know, it happens to people his age. You start thinking about being old and all that…” 

“Please, Ky, he’s had worse and handled with it better–” you both yelp when a full-on banshee screech comes from upstairs, and Dick comes running down the stairs, seemingly terrified, “What was that?” he yells, looking at you both with crazy eyes. 

You and Kyle look at each other, confused, “What was what?” 

“That– that room! You said it was the bathroom!” 

It takes you a moment to understand — but then you remember Dick’s absolute shit knowledge of left and right, and guess that he might’ve mistaken left for right again, and entered… the nursery. The very still-in-making nursery, with the box of the crib that still has to be built and the chest with the onesies that Bitey is sitting on. Your face becomes red, because that’s absolutely not how you wanted your brother to find out about this, “Well, Dick, I say you put two and two together,” you hint, unamused and a bit shrill. 

He stares at you two, mouth wide open, and then starts screaming again. “You knocked up my sister? That’s so not cool, bro! You’re, like, two years older than me! She’s my age! Does that mean I’ll have to get my shit together someday too?” he falls dramatically to the floor, clutching his chest, “I’m not ready for you two to have a baby! Who will I go to when I need to be reassured about being an irresponsible adult if you’re too busy being a dad, man?”

You blink as your boyfriend starts laughing like a hyena. “You’re… not ready for me to have  a baby? Because you’re irresponsible?” 

Kyle’s still howling, “That’s the funniest thing I’ve ever heard! Man, this is absolutely going in the photo album written behind every pic of you and the baby–” 

They both end up kicked out of the house, because honestly, you’re not patient enough to deal with their shit. Kyle comes back with a bouquet of flowers and cookies three hours later, begging for forgiveness, while Dick has the great idea of aggravating his situation by sending a message to the siblings group chat that reads: DID Y’ALL KNOW ABOUT THE KID OR WAS I THE ONLY ONE NOT INCLUDED💔💔💔

One very angry phone call and a deleted message later, not one but three very confused siblings show up at your door — and you know that things are getting weird when it’s Cass, Tim and Jason that team up. “Yo,” it’s the latter who greets you first, “it’s like everyone went crazy lately — first B, then Damian, then Dick with… whatever that message was. We knew you just bought a house and were just wondering if you did it thanks to this freaky virus going around or something.” 

You really can’t take this anymore, and are grateful that Kyle is out of the house for last minute GL business. “Oh, just get in.” 

Cass is the only one who takes the news well. She immediately comes to hug you, snuggling into your shoulder like a cat while Tim and Jason just stare in disbelief. “You’re what?” 

“You two could at least try to act like you’re happy about it.” 

You’re pretty sure you just saw Tim’s eye twitch. “Does B know? Is that why he’s been acting like a maniac?”

You frown, “He doesn’t know, I meant to, like, organise a dinner together or something to tell you all but you’re all too nosey to mind your business. Dick literally snooped around and found out.” nevermind that you were the one to tell Damian. 

Suddenly, a smile graces Jason’s face, “Does that mean Damian doesn’t know? Because I’ll never let him live this down–”

“Damian was the first one to know.” 

“…You just had to ruin the moment, huh?” 

“This is supposed to be my moment, dumbass.” 

You choose to go to the Manor that same night, because now that the whole family knows, it won’t be long until Bruce finds out, and you'd rather be the one to tell him. Kyle doesn’t ask you if you want him to come — smartly, you should add, because it’s best if you talk to your father alone before he decides to settle things between them privately. 

Alfred greets you at the door, his presence stoic as ever. “Good evening, Miss, at what do we owe the ple–”

“I’m pregnant.” 

He blinks, unmovable. “Well, that’s wonderful. I imagine you came here to tell Master Bruce the happy news?”

You come up to hug him, and after a brief moment of confusion he reciprocates. “Thanks, Alfie,” you mumble, “you’re the first person after Kyle that said that this is good news. I really needed that.” 

He gently pats your back, “Do the others know?” 

You scoff, “None of them were too pleased about it. Cass was happy about it, but… you know she doesn’t really talk.” 

His eyes soften, “It’s just the way they cope, Miss. I’m sure it’s all just a misunderstanding; they’ll come around.” 

Bruce is, as he always is, in the Batcave. These days it’s hard to find him anywhere else. His eyes are fixated on the screen of the Batcomputer, and he doesn’t even seem to acknowledge your presence until you call out, “Hey, Bruce,” 

He turns, bags under his eyes prominent, and he looks almost worried to see you there. He says your name, getting up from his seat, “You shouldn’t be here,” he mumbles, his hands cupping your shoulders as you frown, “it’s too cold. I should have a jacket somewhere–”

“Please, Bruce,” you cut him off, “it’s September. I would like to say that the temperature down here is perfect, actually.” you look at the giant screen in front of you, various news pamphlets open and surveillance footage replaying over and over again, “New prison break out to manage?”

He shrugs, “Dent’s been dealing some weapons in the black market for the last two weeks, if what my sources are saying is true. By the way, it’s almost October, so no, the temperature isn’t perfect.” he insists on getting that jacked he mentioned on you, even zipping it up for you like you’re some kind of hyperactive toddler. “There you go.”

You almost laugh. “The others told me you were acting weirdly, but I didn’t think it was this serious,” 

He barely reacts. “Hn. I’m not acting weirdly, I’m just being careful,”

“Are you the same man that gets into active shootings with a costume and a dream?” 

He glares at you. “Why did you come here?” 

You hop on a stool near the computer, “To check on you, dad. The others seemed worried, and I know that we haven’t had much time to talk these last few weeks, but I’m worried about you.” 

“Well, don’t be. I’m perfectly fine.” 

“Please, Bruce, you don’t look nor act fine. We just want to help.” 

You just can’t seem to get his attention, because as soon as his gaze goes back to the screen, it’s like you’re not even there anymore. As clearly this isn’t working, you make a drastic decision: to just spit the truth out. “Dad,” you start, voice trembling, “I… I’m pregnant.”

He doesn’t even blink. “I know.” 

You stutter, “You– what– I– oh, you know what? I’m so tired of you knowing everything. Is that why you’ve been acting so weird? How did you even find out, and why didn’t you say anything? I was pretty sneaky with it, you know!” 

“I found it weird when you asked me about the house,” he merely explains, not seeming bothered with this invasion of privacy like he’s done this his entire life — well, he kinda did. “I got suspicious and thought you were being mind-controlled or ill. It took me a quick check through your medical records to find out your… condition. I thought it best not to say anything in case you wanted to do a big reveal with the others and wanted me to act surprised.” 

“You really should stop doing that.” guess his weird behavior is explained, but the why of it all still confuses you. “I mean, I get that it may weird you out, but I still don’t get why you’ve been so odd since finding that out. I’m an adult woman in a loving relationship, Bruce, and even if me and Kyle never mentioned having kids, you could’ve guessed that something like this would’ve happened.” 

Finally, he stops. His stare is so blank that you’re honestly kinda scared. “I’m… I’m getting old.” 

You blink. “O… kay?” wait. Wait. Is your emotionally unavailable father opening up to you after almost two decades of stony facades save for a few crash outs? And it’s because you’re about to have a baby? Dear God, Kyle was right about him having a midlife crisis. 

“I’m not the Batman I was once,” he mutters grimly, “but Gotham is as relentless as ever.” 

“I mean, you’re still kicking butts left and right,” you say, “and I doubt that Gotham’s criminals actually think that you can age. They probably think that you’re, like, immortal or something.” 

Finally, his gaze turns to you, and he doesn’t seem too relieved. “My hair’s starting to turn grey.” 

It's genuinely starting to creep you out. “My God, Bruce, you’re fourty-four! Stop talking like you’re Santa Claus’ age, because Alfred is on the brink of his seventies and I’ve never heard him complain about a single joint creaking.” you stop when you take a better look at him, because– are those tears in his eyes? You’re not even sure you’ve ever seen him cry after Jason’s death. “I– God, will you just tell me what is going on in your head? I can’t read minds, Bruce.”

He fucking sniffles. “I… my baby’s going to have a baby. I’m not ready for that.” you almost melt. This is Bruce Wayne, Batman, your father — reduced to a puddle of sad emotions when faced with the fact that his first child will become a mother in a few months. “I… it just feels like yesterday when I took you to the Manor for the first time.”

You didn’t come from a perfect family like he did, nor had a nice house and a butler — but you guess that your parents dying during an armed robbery in an alleyway, even if you weren’t there to witness it, hit him a little too close to home to ignore the story when it was published on the newspaper. You were the first kid he fostered, and probably also one of the biggest messes, seeing the way your version of Batgirl was deemed to be far too violent by basically everyone — including Damian, and Damian got here after you dropped the costume and has killed multiple people. 

(One time, when he told Jason that he didn’t get why you stopped being Batgirl, he showed him footage of you beating up some of Black Mask’s goons completely unprompted and with weapons that he was pretty sure were now banned from the Batcave. Damian blinked and said Yeah, okay, now I get it.)

“And I know that I wasn’t the best father– I was never prepared to be one. Nor was I a really good mentor. But through it all, all of you — you, your brothers, your sister, have managed to go on despite everything. But you — you’ve managed to do something I’m not sure any of us will ever be able to actually do.” 

His head turns towards the costume display cases, where your suit is still set up despite not being used in over three years. “You’ve left this life behind.” 

“It wasn’t easy,” you mutter, “Batgirl literally haunts me, and it’s just a stupid costume.” 

It’s true, she does; your violent past and all the definitely too-near-death experiences you've had are still present in your recurring nightmares. You still get a little scared when you see Barbara or Stephanie in the costume, thinking that it came back to finally finish you off, and the relief you felt when you found out that Cass modified the suit was indescribable. 

The truth is, Batgirl isn’t just a costume to you — it’s a reminder of years spent amidst violence and the loss of yourself. “And, I mean, a good therapist does help with anger issues. I can’t tell her about the nights spent fighting crime and all the traumatising experiences I’ve had because of them, but I can tell her about my crippling fear of becoming a bad mom and the other thousand issues unrelated to vigilantism I have.”

He forces a smile. “You’ll be a great mom, I’m sure of it.” 

“And you’ll be a great grandpa,” you nudge him with your elbow, “I can already see the headlines: Billionaire playboy Bruce Wayne retires from his nightlife activities at only forty-four following the birth of his first grandchild: women and men all over the world declare grief-stricken strike.”

He perks up, “Speaking of which, is everything going well with the gestation?” 

You almost laugh at the way he says gestation like you’re some kind of lab rat. “Oh, yeah,” you muse, cupping the underside of your small bump, “it’s a boy.” 

You don’t entertain the idea of a babymoon until Bruce gives you and Kyle two tickets for the Bahamas and a reservation in one of the most exclusive resorts of the area for Christmas. 

Truly, you didn’t notice how tense and sore you’ve been these last few months until you’re laid out on a sunbed, fresh out of an all-inclusive spa treatment, and your biggest worry is making sure that none of the women eyeing up Kyle while he’s ordering drinks at the refreshments boot try something with him. 

Your belly is big enough that you often feel like an inflated balloon, even if the small kicks and your boyfriend’s constant and undivided attention are nice. The kid loves to hear your voice (or so you think, by the quantity of the kicks you get when you talk to him) but gets quiet when Ky has his alone time with him, which makes you wonder if he either likes you or him. That ointment you got back when you first found out you were pregnant does wonders, because you’re one month away from your due date and there’s not a single stretch mark in sight on your skin — even if you have to also credit Kyle for it, because he was the one who never forgot to put it on you every night before going to bed. 

The prodigal son finally comes back to your sunshade with your non-alcoholic drinks in hand, all giddy sun-kissed. “There!” he holds out the straw of your fruity drink for you to take a sip, “I asked the bartender about those cookies you asked about, but she told me that they don’t have them. I’ll pass by the deli later and get them for you.” 

He gives you your glass, setting down his to take the sunscreen and drop a blob of it on his hands, moving to smear it on your legs. “Looking a bit red here, lovie.” 

“I can’t even see my legs, Ky. What did you expect?”

He shrugs, a lazy smirk on his face, “Nothing else, don’t worry. I’m here to help.” 

And when it gets a bit too hot all you have to do is take the inflatable donut Kyle bought as soon as you two landed and sit on it while floating away, your boyfriend leaning on one of the donut’s side admiring the view — aka, the very pregnant love of his life basking in the coolness of the water. 

The vacation is a dream come true. You get to relax before you have to think about the stress of the labour, tan quite nicely and don’t have to think about anything because Kyle is at your beck and call; sore ankles? He gives you a massage. Thirsty? He gets back from the bar with the whole drink inventory. You’ll be two weeks away from the due date when you get back, and honestly, you’re sure you’ll miss this.

Except you really don’t — because once they place your little boy in your arms after almost a whole day of labour, all the pain and struggles suddenly feel like nothing. 

Tommy Rayner is born, healthy and with a prominent scowl on his face, on February 19th, effectively stopping Bruce’s birthday party. He’s also a bit late on the schedule, but the doctors assure you that he just didn’t have any rush in getting out of the little sanctuary you made for him. 

The scowl he’s got on softens as he settles on your chest, only to come back not even a minute later as Kyle approaches, tears in his eyes and hands trembling while rubbing tender caresses across his back. He almost glares at him, then seems to be turning to you almost as if to ask ‘Really? You couldn’t find better?’. Needless to say, he’s a miniature copy of you, and the mystery regarding his silence when Kyle talked to him is suddenly solved. 

He latches onto your breast without any fuss as you and his father stare at him, enamoured, his little hands making grabby motions on your skin like a cat making biscuits. “He’s so tiny,” Kyle manages to mutter out, camera in his hands, snapping pictures of you and your boy. “Do you need anything? I’ll bring you everything you want. You deserve it, sweetcheeks, because I’ve seen some freaky stuff — but that was something I’ll never get over.” he shivers, kissing your forehead, “If you never want to have another kid, I’ll understand. I’ll schedule a vasectomy right away, just say the word.” 

He gets out of your room with the intent to buy Milka cookies, the biggest boat of sushi to-go he can find and gets swarmed by your family members instead — he doesn’t even know how they got here, because none of you called them when your water broke. They drown him in questions, with Is she okay?s and How’s the baby?s as he barely manages to breathe with the little space they’ve given him. Bruce is in front of them all, and Kyle would’ve never thought to see the man who swore to find a way to skin him alive legally if he ever let anything happen to you or your son with tears in his eyes. “So — tell us, how is she?” 

Kyle excuses himself back into your room amidst their protests, only to come back outside with a blue bundle in his arms, “This is Tommy,” he whispers, careful not to wake him up, “His mommy’s sleeping at the moment, but I’m sure she’ll be elated to see you all once you wake up.” 

And you are — even if he’s not sure if it’s for your family or the mega sushi boat he found at the nearest takeout place. Kyle feeds you the pieces as you hold Tommy in your arms while the others make what feels like a thousand questions per minute, silencing only when your son makes any type of sound. Alfred fluffs your pillow and takes his opportunity to take a better look at your son, “He does look incredibly like you, miss.”

They crowd his bassinet once Kyle places him back down to let you properly demolish the sushi boat, and Damian looks like the proudest of them all as he carefully tucks Bitey near Tommy. "It's a miracle he didn't get your stupid genes, Rayner, it would've spoiled the whole family tree."

Later, when it’s time for everyone to go home, it’s only Bruce that stays. Kyle needed a shower — he got the call about your water breaking from the hospital while fighting a slime monster in space and was still covered in weird alien goo — and so, it’s your father occupying the seat beside your bed, looking at you and his grandson with dazed eyes. “You want to hold him?” you husher as Tommy stretches and blinks, content in your arms. 

He flinches. The big bad Batman, scared of holding a newborn. “Oh, I, uh… I don’t think it’s the best idea, I’ve never held one before.” well, that doesn’t really surprise you — you and all your siblings came to him already too old to even be picked up, often. 

“Aw, c’mon– here, hold him,” despite himself, his hands reach out when you hold your son out for him, “careful with his head, place it on your elbow– there, just like that!” 

Bruce finds himself with a very disgruntled newborn in his arms, looking at him like he just did him a big wrong. “Hey, don’t look at me like that,” his tone is the softest you’ve ever heard him use. 

The baby responds by proudly and loudly farting, leaving his poor grandpa speechless. You laugh, “Well, that explains it,” 

A dim light comes from outside the window — the Bat-signal shines in the clouds, just like most nights in Gotham. Bruce looks at it through the window, but doesn’t move an inch. “If you have to go, you can,” you murmur softly. You’ve stopped getting angry about his disappearances ages ago. “Kyle will be back soon, and we’ll still be here tomorrow morning.” 

He looks at you, then down at Tommy, whose eyes are getting heavier and heavier. “No,” he whispers, finally getting comfortable in his seat, “I’m just fine here.”

congratulations! you've reached the end of the fic :) have some memes:

[colonelkaboom]

Make it believable

After one too many blind dates orchestrated by your friends, you quickly make up a story about how you're dating a colleague, eager for an end to their relentless and unsuccessful matchmaking. When they ask for his name, only one comes to mind and before you have time to consider the consequences it slips out — Xavier...

⋄⋄⋄ Xavier x Reader ⋄⋄⋄ Read on ao3 ll Word count: 11.8k ⋄⋄⋄ Modern day au ⋄⋄⋄ Fake dating, office romance, secret crush, colleagues to lovers, friends to lovers, alcohol consumption, jealousy, smut, oral (f receiving), piv, safe sex, MDNI

“Oh gods, who is it this time?” You groan as your friends pull up yet another dating profile, claiming to have found your perfect match. “If it’s another doctor, I’m screaming.”

“No, no, it’s not another doctor.” Tara innocently smiles and forces her phone into your field of vision.

You squint at the screen, fighting the bright sunlight partially blinding you as you struggle to focus without your glasses. 

“A pilot? Seriously? I cried over an unavailable doctor for almost a month, and you think it’s a good idea for me to date a pilot?”

“Pilots are cool though…” She shrugs before slumping back in her chair, sipping her iced coffee in surrender. 

“Mhm, sure.” Suddenly you’re overcome with a desire for something much stronger than coffee, but having wine on your lunch break might be frowned upon. 

“You know we mean well, right? We just want you to be happy and loved and cared for.” Simone smirks wickedly, making it very obvious that she’s not referring to innocent hugs and kisses.

“Ok, no pilots. I get it. What about this guy then? He’s an artist, self-employed, creates his own schedule.”

“Guys, please, no more! I’m seeing someone!” Their faces look almost as shocked as yourself at this newly revealed information.

“Oh, why didn’t you say anything?” Tara questions eagerly.

“Eh, well…” Take a deep breath, compose yourself. “It’s sort of new, I didn’t want to make a big deal out of it if it didn’t work out.”

“Well, secret’s out now, honey! We need details.” Simone taps a perfectly painted fingernail on the table like it was a gavel and you were in court and not having lunch at your favorite café.

“I’d rather –”

“Nope. You’ve got to give us something.”

“Fine, he’s a colleague.”

“And his name is…?”

“Xavier.” What, you’re giving up a name that easily? Do you possess zero self preservation skills? You’ve really painted yourself into a corner now…

“Pretty name. What’s he like?” Simone quips excitedly.

“He’s friendly, professional, very helpful.”

“Ok, those are the most impersonal descriptors I’ve ever heard. C’mon, you can do better than that.” She counters.

“Please, let us live vicariously through you. New relationships are so exciting.” Tara adds with a dreamy expression as she stares at you pleadingly.

Tara and Simone had managed to find their ‘soulmates’ right after finishing university, and somehow Jeremiah and Andrew seemed just as smitten now as they did back then. Not that you were surprised, Tara and Simone were great, most of the time…

“Uhm, he’s…” Give them something good enough to make them shut up about it and the next time they ask about him you can just say you’ve broken up. “He’s protective, selfless and a great kisser.” Apart from that last one, which you couldn’t offer an accurate opinion about because you haven’t kissed him before, you avoided any lies about him. Makes it easier to keep track of the story. 

“So, you’re bringing him to mine and Andrew’s anniversary party next month?” Simone smiled at you expectantly, clearly already very eager to meet this new ‘boyfriend’ of yours.

“If he isn't busy, I’m sure he’d love to come.”

Oh, what have you done… 

After a less than relaxing lunch break, you return to the office ready to get back to work. Or, at least ready to get your mind off of the mess you managed to bury yourself in. You sit down at your desk and immediately reach for your glasses hoping they possess some magical ability to keep your headache at bay. The glaring fluorescent lights that illuminate the office landscape you find yourself a part of are doing you no favors against the increasingly throbbing ache.

“Hey, do you have those reports done yet?” Xavier’s voice startles you so greatly that the top of your head suddenly connects with his chin.

“Oh, shit! Xavier, I’m sorry.” You exclaim and jump to your feet.

“No, it’s my fault for standing so close. I didn’t mean to scare you.” He smiles earnestly, but the faint trickle of blood slowly emerging on his bottom lip doesn’t exactly make you feel less quilty.

“You’re bleeding. Hold still.” You reach for the unused napkin on your desk and quickly press the button on the water dispenser to dampen it, before gently pressing it to his lip.

“How’s your head?” He asks through the limited mouth movement you're allowing him.

“Shh, don’t talk right now. I’m busy fixing your lip.”

“Didn’t you date a doctor for a while, this should be easy for you, right?” There is a hint of disapproval to his tone, probably because he remembers your sulking when that relationship ended.

“I dated a doctor, that doesn’t mean I somehow fused his brain with mine and obtained all the knowledge.”

“Hm. A shame he didn’t make himself useful and share some. Might have come in handy.”

“I can fix this with my own brain, thank you very much.” Your voice is practically dripping with sarcasm, which he somehow seems to miss.

“Oh, that’s not what I meant. I’m not doubting you, I promise. I have full confidence in your abilities.” He frantically attempts an apologetic explanation. He only meant that the doctor could have at least had the decency to leave you with something other than heartbreak and wasted time. 

“I know, Xavie. Don’t worry.” You chuckle, glancing away from his lip to flash him a reassuring smile. “Ok, I think the worst of it has passed.”

The napkin is discarded in a nearby trashcan and you use your thumb to gently pull his bottom lip down slightly to better assess the damage. 

Xavier’s hands turn into forcefully closed fists behind his back. There’s nothing he can do except hope you don’t notice how tense he’s gotten whilst under your care. The gentle touch of your fingers through the damp napkin was hard enough to manage, but this, your thumb directly pressing on his lip! He deserves a medal for keeping somewhat composed. 

“Thank you.” He said as calmly as he could manage, staring down at you and memorizing the sight of you in such close proximity. “How can I repay you for your excellent care, doctor?”

You snort out a laugh at his playful tone. Initially you were just going to leave it there; return to work like nothing happened. Then the memory of your ‘boyfriend’ resurfaced and you glanced up at him, embarrassed and unsure.

“Actually, I have something I might need your help with.” You mumble before glancing around the large office landscape carefully. 

Not pleased with the high risk of someone walking by or overhearing your request, you grab his hand and tug him along into the hallway. 

“I fucked up.” 

“Okey?” His brows furrow at your vague statement as he braces for whatever comes next. 

“My friends keep bugging me about my abysmal dating life and today at lunch they tried to set me up with someone again. I panicked, and told them I was already seeing someone to get them to back off.”

Xavier felt his blood boil, but he wasn’t surprised to hear you were seeing someone. You were wonderful, of course you wouldn’t be available for ever. With respect for your relationships, the appropriate grieving time when they ended and the fact that you somehow always turned to him when someone mistreated you, there was never a time that seemed fitting for him to make his own move. Regret gnawed at him for every day that passed where his role as a simple witness to your romantic endeavors persisted. If he was truly honest, his reluctance to offer himself up as a worthy candidate had little to do with the ‘competition’ and everything to do with the fact that he feared your potential rejection.

“They obviously wanted to know who and I panicked some more and told them that it was a colleague.” 

How could he have missed it if you’d been seeing someone from the office? 

“They wanted a name and I gave them yours…” Your voice became more and more quiet with each word, like they were too heavy to deliver with your usual strength and confidence. 

“Me? Since when are we dating?” After taking a moment to fully process your words, Xavier was finally able to deduce that you had fabricated this story to satisfy your friends. The realization made him chuckle awkwardly as he rubbed the back of his neck attempting to distract from the flush in his cheeks.

“Since a few weeks ago, maybe? I don’t know.” A heavy sigh filled with shame and discomfort filled the space between you. 

“Hm, I sort of wish I’d been there. Seems like the sort of moment one would like to be a part of.” He joked and put a finger to his chin as if trying to conjure up a memory.  

A low grumble sounded from somewhere deep inside you as a response to the headache inducing situation you had put yourself in. Made even worse by Xavier’s far too relaxed demeanor that greatly contrasted your own stress and embarrassment. If only you knew how truly flustered he was.

Sure, you could just admit to Tara and Simone that you’d lied, but then you’d be right back where you started. 

“So, what do you need me to do?”

“Huh?” You gasped. “I haven’t even asked you for anything yet.”

“No, but I can tell this is bothering you and I don’t mind helping.”

There was no way he’d make it out of this deal without taking great damage. He knew he’d never regret helping you, but this would have consequences for him personally. However, if this was his temporary ticket out of the friendzone, he’d gladly take it and deal with those consequences later. 

“Oh, okey then. Xavier, would you like to be my fake boyfriend for a while?” You smiled sweetly, something reminiscent of a schoolgirl asking her crush to go steady.

“Sure. I’m all yours.” He chuckled nervously, hoping you didn’t notice. “What do I need to know, or prepare for?”

“Well, it’s strictly for show, so don’t worry about that. Simone and Andrew are celebrating their anniversary in a few weeks, I figured that would be a nice place to show you off.”

“Show me off, what am I? A new accessory?” 

“Normally, I would say no. But in this situation I guess you kinda are.”

“Wow, that makes me feel special.” He crosses his arms over his chest and turns his face away from yours.

“C’mon, Xavie, you know what I mean."

“Mhm, my girlfriend clearly doesn’t appreciate me. I’m just armcandy to her.” The playful pout jutting his split lip forward. 

“Oh don’t pout. What are you? Five?” You poke his pout and it instantly eases back into that soft smile of his. 

“So you don’t need me to do anything other than show up? How will that make our relationship believable?”

“I don’t know, I’ve never entered into a fake relationship before.”

“Neither have I, but if we’re going to convince your friends I think we should put some more effort into it.”

“Effort?”

“Mhm.”

“Please elaborate.”

“I think maybe we should practice behaving like a couple. I’m not saying we need to make out or anything, but standing close and light touches should seem natural, right?”

“I guess, but I don’t want to ask that of you.”

"You're not though, I’m suggesting it. We don’t do things halfway around here, right?”

“Ok, so we practice, to make it believable. But we don’t need to overdo it, I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.” 

He reaches out his hand for you to shake as if we’re agreeing to the deal. With a firm and convincing grip, you take his hand, surprised when he doesn’t let go.You narrow your eyes at him suspiciously as you wait for him to either explain himself or release you.

His grip on your hand shifts as his fingers lace with yours and a gentle thumb brushes over your knuckle.

“Just practicing.” He smiles.

You roll your eyes and you both snort a laugh before he eventually lets you go. 

The rest of the week was a bit awkward. There was no need to pretend you were in a romantic relationship when you only saw each other at work, but the agreement you made still lingered in the air around you. Nothing about your usual interactions felt quite as innocent anymore, like there was some underlying pressure to make them count. 

You began to fear for what would remain of your friendship with Xavier after this whole ordeal was over since it felt so strange and changed so drastically already, before you’d even done any of the practice you agreed might be beneficial. Perhaps that practice would be good though, maybe it would help you reclaim the easy friendship you had developed over the last year of working together once the ‘fake dating’ settled more into your normal behaviours.

Right now it felt like a hazy filter had clouded your vision, making each step a fall risk where all you could do was hope that the other person was close enough to catch you. It didn’t help that his desk was right next to yours and you collaborated on almost every project. The office landscape you both were so familiar with had suddenly experienced a shift, like the tiny space the two of you shared had transformed into its own ecosystem and increased the temperature.

Then came Friday. You’d agreed that Xavier would drive you home, which wasn’t an uncommon occurrence, but this time he’d come home with you. To practice…

“So, where do you want to start?” You bravely questioned once you were both settled on your couch. 

A fluffy pillow in your lap served as a barrier between you, one that you knew was completely unnecessary. You trusted Xavier, there was no doubt about that, yet this situation was so unfamiliar that even the presence of your most trusted colleague did little to soothe you.

“I guess we should agree on some rules. Figure out what we’re comfortable with, how far we’re willing to go to convince your friends.”

“Mhm.” You picked at your nail beds nervously as you took a moment to consider where your boundaries would be, only to discover that you truly had no clue. “Do you have any suggestions?”

“Uhm, I don’t know. I guess I wouldn’t mind holding your hand and stuff like that. Kissing probably won’t be an issue, unless you’re the type to openly make out with your new boyfriends at parties which I don’t think you are.”

“I’m not.” You smiled at his accurate assessment.

“So, in terms of physical stuff, we’re on the same page?”

“I think so. That’s a good start.”

You both managed to relax a little bit more now that the first step had been taken and a somewhat comfortable silence settled over you. It was nice to not have to force conversation after a long day at work. The quiet was welcomed. 

Out of the corner of his eye, Xavier caught you yawning. This was his moment to shoot his shot. Maybe, if he was lucky, he’d get you to fall asleep in his arms, for practice obviously.

“Do you want to watch something on TV? And perhaps, move a little closer?” He treaded carefully.

“Uhm, ok.” 

You clicked a few buttons on the remote and settled on a rerun of a show you knew he’d seen before. Then you bravely ditched the pillow and scooted closer. His arm was resting over the back of the couch silently inviting you in. At first you just sat there, biting your lip like it had betrayed you and needed punishment. There was still space between you, only temporarily closed by an innocent brushing of thighs whenever one of you shifted slightly. 

Eventually you dared tuck your legs up and folded them next to you. A gentle touch at your shoulder whispered at you to dare lean back so his arm could fully wrap around you. It would be nice, wouldn’t it? To be wrapped into someone's arms again, to feel cared for. And Xavier’s arms certainly seemed like they could be very comforting. 

Your mind briefly flickered back to Simone’s not so subtle comment on you needing to be ‘taken care of’ causing certain images to float around that messy brain of yours. Xavier was attractive, sexy, perhaps even beautiful. There was no denying that you had wondered what was hidden underneath his corporate appropriate wardrobe. 

The closest you’d gotten to a proper peek was that one week over the summer where the ac at the office was broken. It started with a few buttons of his pale blue shirt undone which revealed nothing more than the collar of the white t-shirt underneath, then he’d rolled up his sleeves exposing his surprisingly toned forearms. You remember thinking to yourself that you’d never been turned on by a man's forearms before, and then you quickly tossed those thoughts aside blaming it on the heat and ovulation. 

In fact those became your go to explanations for why a tiny hint of arousal burst within you every time Xavier undid another button or rolled his sleeves up higher. Then came the hottest day of the week where he’d ended up taking his shirt off entirely. The t-shirt remained on, but it was slim fit and slightly damp from him sweating. You almost lost it, but still convinced yourself it was heat and ovulation. 

“You, ok?” He suddenly questioned as he leaned forward a bit to take a better look at your face. “You’re kinda flushed.”

“I’m fine.” Then why is your voice so high pitched? 

“Am I making you uncomfortable?” Clearly worried that he did something wrong.

‘No, I’m just stuck in a loop of scenarios playing in my mind where you make me very, very comfortable.’

“I’m ok, Xavie. I promise.” You plastered on your most reassuring grin and attempted to ignore the fact that you were in fact violently blushing.

“I can move if you want, I’ll just –”

“Xavier, you didn’t do anything wrong. I swear.” Hoping to prove your point you lean into his side and grab the hand resting behind you and drape it over your shoulder. For practice.

His body tenses immediately at the brash movement, but he manages to relax a bit when he sees that you seem better now than you did mere moments ago. 

It felt too nice to have you like this and the consequences he feared he’d have to face were already making things difficult. How could he ever sit on his own couch again without feeling like something was missing, like you were missing.  

There was nothing he could do about the future. He’d simply continue to be there for you, eager to join in on shittalking your failed dates, like the good friend he is. For now, he’d simply try to enjoy getting to be something more. Even if it wasn’t real, he could pretend it was. And with you half asleep curled up against him, it felt more real than anything else.

You stir first, slowly being woken up by the pressure of a hand wrapped around your waist as you lay slumped across his chest. Startled, you instantly sit up causing Xavier to awaken. His breath is shallow and his ears are bright red, even in the darkness that enshrouds you. 

“What, what’s going on?” He panics whilst frantically searching your expression for answers.

“Nothing, I just… My neck hurts, I've been sleeping on it weirdly.” 

“Oh. Do you want me to give you a massage?” He smooths out your hair once you’ve confirmed there’s no imminent danger. 

But your mind keeps flashing you images of Xavier in a tight white t-shirt all hot and sweaty, making any further touches seem like dangerous territory. His hand on your hair does little to deter the pictures in your head.

“It’s fine. Thanks though.”

“I guess I should probably head home, it’s late.” He notes, whilst glancing at his phone.

“You could stay if you want. I have extra pillows and blankets.”

“No, I should get home. I’ve got some plants on a strict watering schedule and I’m already several hours behind.” 

‘Also, if I stay I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to leave.’ 

“Awe, Xavie the plant dad.”

“A proud one too. If we ever, uh, practice at my place, I’d be happy to introduce you to them.” He jokes as he begins lacing up his shoes, thankful for the overall darkness that hopefully conceals his slightly shaky grip on the laces.

You get up from the couch to bid him farewell. He’s got an unsure look to him, like he’s wondering what would be the appropriate next move. Are you still practicing?

“Thanks for coming, Xavier, and for agreeing to help me with this mess.” Your arms wrap around his neck and you pull him in for an appreciative hug, which he reciprocates by rubbing soothing circles on your back. 

“Where do we stand on cheek kisses?” You question, wondering if it should have remained a thought.

“I don’t think I’d mind.” He replies far too quickly.

Putting his thoughts to the test you reach up and quickly peck his cheek before gazing at him expectantly.

“Ok, I don’t mind.” Then he returns the favor and kisses your forehead, lingering a breath longer than he probably should have.

“I don’t mind either.” A faint warmth soon spreads along your chest as you take in the residual heat of his lips.

“So, how do you think our first night went?” The tone of his voice shifted, like he was slipping out of character. 

“I think we did ok, wouldn’t you agree?”

“I think your snuggling technique could use some work. Your elbow was poking my ribs for hours. I think a couple more cuddle sessions on the couch should do the trick.” You playfully slap his arm at the unnecessary constructive criticism. “Alright, no critiques. I can take a hint.”

“I’ll talk to you later, idiot.”

“Are we having our first fight already? Baby please, I need you!” A dramatic hand reaches for you accompanied by brows raised so high in faux desperation they almost touched his hairline. 

You laugh at his ridiculous performance, purposefully ignoring how your heart fluttered slightly at his choice of nickname. 

“Alright, we’ll talk later. Good night.” Instinctively, he reaches for you and places another kiss on your forehead. 

Before either of you have time to consider the literally out of character physical affection, Xavier makes his escape. 

It shouldn’t have felt so natural to reach for you again. The game was paused, you were simply delivering a progress report like you’d do at work and he still couldn’t resist reaching for you. 

Shit… 

Xavier knew he’d made a mistake when agreeing to be your fake boyfriend. He was the one who suggested you might benefit from practicing and who continued to insist that more was needed. This whole situation felt like a reward and a punishment all at once. Making it believable enough to convince others was easy, natural. The issue was how he’d convince you he was just faking. He would slip up, again. Stare too intently, touch too longingly. How could he not, when he wasn’t faking it? 

“Hey, Xavier, are you feeling ok today?” Your voice startled Xavier out of his daydream. 

He blinked a few times, trying to readjust to the bright lights from his screen. The familiar hum of the office slowly increases its intensity as his mind reawakens fully. Rolling back in his deskchair, he turns to face you ready to defend himself and whatever mistake you had caught in his work.

“I’m fine? What did I misspell this time?”

“That’s not it, you sent me a half finished report. Is it the wrong document or did you not have time to finish it? It’s fine if you didn’t, I have some time now if you want to look at it together.” 

Xavier took a moment attempting to remember what report you were referring to. He thought he finished it, but maybe he spaced out. He’s been doing that a lot lately. None of that mattered though; you’d offered to help, he couldn’t say no to that.

“Sure, if you have time. Some help would be nice.”

You roll your own chair out from your desk and place it next to his. The lack of distance didn’t seem to cross your mind, but Xavier noticed and instantly went rigid which caught your attention.

“Xavie, am I making you uncomfortable?” You leaned in even closer to make sure he was the only one who could hear you. 

With all the practicing the two of you had been doing lately, placing a supportive hand on his thigh felt like second nature. It had been going so well, you’d even gotten so relaxed about the whole thing that you found yourself able to simply enjoy his company without unnecessary overthinking. You thought he felt the same way, it seemed like it when you were at home at least. At the office you apparently had a much easier time adjusting to your arrangement than he did. 

“No, no, you’re not.” That was a lie… He wasn’t used to lying to you. Keeping secrets was one thing, but lying was new territory he didn’t really want to explore. “I just need to catch up on some sleep.”

“I’ve told you that you can go home earlier if you need or that you can stay over if you want.”

“Yeah, I know. Don’t worry, it’s not your fault.” He courageously reached for your hand on his thigh and squeezed it gently in his own.

Except it was your fault, sort of, he just didn’t want you to know. Why would he let you feel guilty for something he was responsible for? No, he would persevere and hope that he’d make it out of this in a manageable number of pieces so that he’d be able to glue himself back together, alone… 

“Ok, I’ll let it slide for now. But I’ve got my eye on you, buddy.”

Buddy…

The screen lit up with graphs and statistics as you skillfully set your brain back into work mode whilst he still lagged behind. Lost somewhere between rehearsed handholding and systematic forehead kisses. He felt better when he was allowed to fully embrace the character of ‘fake boyfriend’, but that character didn’t have a place at the office. Here he was just Xavier, your buddy.

Simone and Andrew’s party was only a few days away, but you were confident that you and Xavier could pull off a believable act. 

Something did trouble you though… Xavier never seemed to settle back into normal when you were at work, even after two weeks of switching the fake relationship on and off. It made him hard to read and you began to fear that he was exhausting himself while trying to be your knight in shining armour. It also made you miss Xavier, the one who wasn’t playing a character. The one you were used to joking and messing around with at work. 

You were still practicing. The afternoons you spent without him started to feel wrong, like you were skipping solidified steps in your routine. It made you feel stressed, as if you were constantly forgetting something. But unlike a stove being left on or a door unlocked, you could never just check if you were caught up or not. Because he wasn’t there. 

Perhaps it would be good to return to normal. You were going to ‘break up’ a few weeks after the party, so there wasn’t any reason to keep up with your practicing now. Which meant you’d be spending the next two afternoons alone, without the person who had become your safe haven, or at least the character he played had. 

“Should I drop by your place a little early, so we can get warmed up before the party?” 

“You’re really taking this seriously, Xavie.” You smile appreciatively.

“We agreed to make it believable, didn’t we?” 

“Yeah, we did. I’m just surprised, that’s all.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re really good at pretending. You’ve almost convinced me we’re real.” You laugh absentmindedly whilst pouring two cups of coffee. 

Xavier had never been more thankful for a cup of coffee in his entire life. Your eyes were occupied for a second watching over the coffee you were pouring, and when the cup was filled and safely in his hands he could blame the flushed complexion on the steamy liquid before he drowned himself in it. 

“It’ll be over soon, and you can go back to your normal routine and not worry about hanging out with me all the time.”

Xavier can’t help but wonder if you’re really that clueless.There was no way he’d seemed anything less than pleased to spend so much time with you. Yet, you still did not suspect that perhaps he wasn’t really pretending.  

“I don’t mind.” He calmly utters, even with his emotions bubbling just below the surface.

“You keep saying that, but you’ve been acting weird ever since we started this thing.”

He doesn’t say anything as he reaches out to pull you along toward a more private corner of the office. There was no intention to be rough, but the force of the pull nearly spills the full cup of coffee you’re holding. You stare up at him bewildered as you brace yourself for whatever he had to tell you privately.

“I’m just finding it hard to maintain professional boundaries when we’re in the office. We’ve spent so much time together lately that touching you and stuff feels more natural than not doing it.” That sounded too close to a confession, fuck. “I just mean that I’m trying  to remain professional, you know?”

“Of course, Xavie. I worry about slipping  too. I’ve lost count of the amount of times I’ve almost reached out to hold your hand or rest my head on your shoulder when we’ve sat next to each other in meetings.” 

“Really?” He asks expectantly. Too hopeful for his own good.

You nod and reach out to claim the coffee cup clutched in his grasp. Once both your mugs are safely deposited on top of the printer you turn your attention back to Xavier. He seems to have completely frozen in place as he watches your every move. Then you reach forward and wrap your arms around his back as you nuzzle into his chest. It takes him a moment, but he soon reciprocates your affection and holds you in his arms like he would if you were at home practicing. 

“It’s quite nice, right?” You mumble against his chest as you relax further into his familiar embrace.

“Yeah…” A breath passes. “It’s nice.” He kisses the top of your head and allows himself a moment to bask in the comforting scent of your shampoo. 

The printer suddenly comes to life with an array of beeps signaling that someone will arrive shortly to collect their printed document. The two of you break apart and hurry to rescue your coffee before they tumble to the ground by the force of the printer. 

You smile shyly at each other as your coworker rounds the corner before you both make your way back to your desks. 

It was a relief to know that he wasn’t the only one who had a hard time keeping your personalities separate. Regardless of the differing feelings the two of you held, it was nice to know you also craved his closeness to some extent. 

True to his word, Xavier showed up thirty minutes early ready to warm up for the party. Not that you actually needed it. Letting himself into your apartment (like he’d done so many times at this point), he immediately searches for you. The living room is empty, but he hears shuffling from inside your bedroom. The door is ajar, but he can’t see much apart from your shadow dancing across the floor.

“Are you ready?” He softly inquires whilst knocking on the door to announce his presence. 

“Almost! Sorry, Xavie!” You call out apologetically. He was prepared for this though, he knew you were nervous about attending this event. That you would likely overthink everything in advance, your appearance, how much alcohol you should consume at the party, choice of transportation, and him. 

“Actually, could you come help me? Please.” You sigh defeatedly, staring at your bracelet as it falls to the floor for the sixth time.

“A-are you dressed?” He stutters, slowly nudging the door.

You stroll across your room and fully open the door for him, too impatient and stressed for his hesitation. Silently you hold out your wrist and drop the stubborn bracelet into his hand. He chuckles lightly at your flustered expression, but easily completes the task you could not. 

Muttering a ‘thanks’ you return to the full length mirror, resuming your jewelry application. At least your earrings are cooperating. Then his reflection appears behind yours and you smile in the mirror, instantly at ease in his presence. 

“You look nice.” He says earnestly as he studies your reflection.

“Thanks. So do you.” You take a step backwards without breaking eye contact with his reflection. His arms wrap around you as his chin gently rests on your shoulder. You lean your head against his in response. “We look quite nice together, actually.”

To you it sounded like a brand new discovery. One that seemed to surprise you. But Xavier had been aware of that fact for months already, fearful that you’d never see what he did. Holding you like this felt like home, like you were always supposed to be in his arms. The change in your expression came too soon, it almost looked like discomfort. So, he let his arms drop and hang lifelessly at his sides.

Your heart was pounding so loudly you feared he’d be able to feel it in his arms where they had been draped around you. It shouldn’t feel that nice to be embraced by a friend. And that’s all you wanted him to be, right? He was a colleague, it would be terrible if he was anything more than a friend. With your dating history, the relationship would be doomed to fail and going to work would be even more torturous than it already is. You were just lonely, and he filled the boyfriend shaped hole in your life so nicely. You’d fallen for the character he was portraying, the one you asked him to play. Xavier was your friend, a very good friend, nothing more. 

Xavier cleared his throat behind you, catching your attention through the mirror again. “You ready?” 

You reluctantly nodded in acceptance but it quickly shifted into a more convincing shake, changing your initial response. 

“We don’t have to stay long, right?” Xavier hesitantly grabbed your hand whilst remaining at a safe distance. The memory of your souring expression when he held you still fresh in his mind. “Just long enough for your friends to see me and you together.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat and forced a grateful smile onto your face. He truly is a great friend.

Public transport was a constraint pain in your life. You relied on it, almost daily, yet it always let you down. Tonight was no exception as the bus showed up almost 20 minutes late ensuring that you and Xavier would be way more than just ‘fashionably late’ to Simone and Andrew’s anniversary party. At least this way you could both have a few drinks if you needed it without worrying about how you’d get home.

Xavier held your hand almost the entire journey to their house. It seemed like he didn’t even think, he just held it like it was the most natural thing in the world as he absentmindedly caressed the back of your hand with his thumb. The gesture kept your mind off of the party you were headed to, instead you were locked in on attempting to decipher the feelings that bloomed from his touch. Which ones belonged to you, and which ones belonged to the girlfriend character you had been portraying?

“Maybe this was a bad idea?” You question when you and Xavier finally stand face to face with Simone and Andrew’s front door. This door was no stranger to you, yet it had never felt threatening like it does right now.

“C’mon, we’ve practiced and rehearsed for this very moment.” Don’t say it, don’t say it, don’t say it. “We’re pretty much as close to a real couple as one could get without an actual agreement to be one.” Fuck… 

You blinked up at him as if the statement made no sense to you. All you could think was that you’d taken it too far, crossed boundaries he wasn’t comfortable with crossing. Your breath hitched as you searched for proper words to apologize to him, but he beat you to it.

“I just mean that we’re making it believable!” He quickly emphasized, hoping to clear any confusion. 

He grabs your hand in his again, the same hand he helped attach your bracelet too earlier. Straightening out the jewelry with his free hand, he takes a moment to admire the pretty gold star charm resting against your skin. 

The two of you lock eyes and make a silent agreement to open the door and join the celebrations. Time to make proper use of all the practicing you’ve done over the last weeks. Finally using all the time you’ve spent together for its original purpose instead of just letting it confuse you. 

Loud music and dense air engulfs you instantly, further proving how you’re more than just ‘fashionably late’. There are people surrounding you both on all sides, but none of them matter. None of these people need to see you and Xavier together.

“Do you see your friends anywhere?” Xavier leans down so you can hear him over the music. You shake your head and lightly pull him along further into the house.

“There you are!” Tara exclaims excitedly and it takes her a moment to notice that the man standing to your right is in fact holding your hand. “And you must be Xavier?” She holds out her hand for him to shake and he graciously returns the gesture. 

Tara then moves to your left and whispers “He’s sooo handsome. You should get married.”

“Tara, how much have you had to drink?” You laugh at her bluntness laced in the familiar scent of alcohol. Xavier thankfully did not hear her though.

“Not nearly enough. Jeremiah’s parents are visiting all of next week, so this is basically my last night.”

“You’ll live, sweetheart.” Jeremiah appears at her side and kisses her cheek before he also introduces himself to Xavier.

After a quick trip to find some drinks, you and Xavier join Tara and Jeremiah out on the patio. The music is still blaring from inside, but it’s slightly less crowded out here. Xavier steps out first and plops down on an empty lounge chair. Tara and Jeremiah have one each, but the fourth chair is conveniently currently being used by someone refereeing a badminton game in the garden. You stand awkwardly next to Xavier’s chair for a moment before his hands land on your waist to guide you down into his lap. You’re blushing profusely, probably way too much for your poor foundation to be able to cover. 

You shyly glance at him and he meets you with a reassuring smile. If only you had dared look at him a little longer you might have been able to catch a glimpse at how his ears perfectly matched the color of your cheeks. 

Xavier is relaxing back in the chair engaging in polite conversation with your friends. It actually seems like he’s enjoying himself, chatting and sipping his drink like this situation wasn’t entirely fabricated for your benefit. His hand caresses your waist, easily soothing your nerves. 

After a few more sips of your drink you find yourself relaxing into his chest whilst the conversation with Tara and Jeremiah continues to flow smoothly. 

Simone’s black hair suddenly catches your attention as she emerges from the living room with Andew following close behind. The new addition to the conversation causes you to tense up in Xavier’s lap, like you’re going to need to warm up to the situation again. 

Xavier notices, of course, and he innocently pokes his fingers into your side, tickling you back into his chest with a smile on his lips. The movement resulted in your face tucked into the crook of his neck and both his arms wrapping around you, careful not to spill his drink in the process. Your glass was thankfully empty, otherwise its contents would have coated yours and Xavier’s laps after his little attack. He bends his neck to reach closer to where you're resting against him and places a quick peck to your cheek in the midst of your shared laughter. Knowledge of Simone and Andrew joining you on the patio remains forgotten until she speaks and you are reminded of their presence.

“Well aren’t you two just adorable.” She teases, referring to yours and Xavier’s almost childish antics.

“Nice to meet you, I’m Xavier.” He awkwardly greets them both with his left hand since his right is still tucked behind you. “Happy anniversary.”

“Thank you!” 

“Where’s the last chair?” Simone questions.

“Your brother is using it to live out his sports commentator dreams.” Jeremiah says as he points to the still ongoing game occurring behind you.

“I have to go to the bathroom. Andrew, you can have my chair.” Tara declares as she stands and moves over to pull you and Simone with her inside. 

Xavier fought the instinct telling him to hold you tighter when Tara grabbed your arm, as if she was a threat. Your friends were allowed to take you with them, no good boyfriend would force you to remain by his side all night. Right before you disappeared behind the sliding door you turned around to smile at him apologetically for suddenly leaving him alone.

Except he wasn’t alone. Jeremiah was still sitting across from him and Andrew had taken the seat Tara left empty. A sense of awkwardness settled in the air. The conversation was fine when you and Tara were part of it, now it seemed to struggle to find its feet again. 

“So, how are things? New relationships are kinda foreign to us.” Jeremiah starts. “Nothing like those first few months, am I right?”

“Yeah, it’s been great so far. No unpleasant quirks or habits.” 

“Simone mentioned that the two of you are colleagues and met at work. Were you pining for her for long before you asked her out?”

“It is, uh, was tough for a while before I dared.” Hopefully the two men across from him didn’t notice how he had to correct himself. “I thought I was stuck in the friendzone, honestly. None of my advances seemed to be interpreted the way I hoped and I could never tell if she was interested in me the same way I was in her.”

“You were probably too subtle.” Andrew suggests.

“Probably… It was sort of tough to find an opening when your girlfriends kept setting her up with other guys though.” Xavier teases and points an accusatory finger at them.

“Sorry.” 

“Not our fault.”

Tara dragged you and Simone along and insisted you all use the bathroom at the same time, like you did when you went out when you were younger. Tara was doing her business whilst Simone touched up her makeup in the mirror and you sat quietly on the edge of the bathtub lost in your own thoughts. 

Simone snaps her fingers in front of your face, catching your attention. “I asked you a question.” She laughs, knowing she’s going to have to repeat it. “Xavier seems great! How did you work with him for over a year before asking him out?” 

“I don’t know, didn’t think he’d be interested in me like that I guess.” You don’t give your answer too much thought fearing pondering over it too much might hurt.

“You’re totally getting married.” Tara announces from in front of the mirror where she’s applying one of Simone’s lipglosses over top of what remains of her own. 

“Tara, we’ve been dating for like a month. We’re not getting married.” You exclaim, trying to hide your shock with an awkward laugh.

“No, I have to agree with Tara on this one. He’s completely in love with you, honey.” Simone smirks, but you can tell she’s being serious. Xavier’s performance has certainly convinced them. 

Once you reenter the living room your friends announce their need for refreshments and disappear into the kitchen, but not without announcing that they’ll make something for you so that you can return to your boyfriend faster. 

On your way back to the patio a man appears in front of you, startling you with his height and broad muscly frame. 

“Oops, sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you.” He laughs.

“I’m quite jumpy, it’s not your fault.”

“So, you a friend of Simone’s?” You smile and nod at his question. “She’s great, right? I’m so glad Andrew found someone like her. Can’t deny I envy what they have.”

“I don’t think you’re alone in wanting to experience a love like theirs.”

“No, I guess not.” The look on his face tells you he’s made a pleasant discovery. “Does that mean you’re here alone then?”

“Oh, I –” Well, this was unexpected. You can’t exactly tell him you’re here with your ‘fake boyfriend’. He seems nice too, and he’s the first man to introduce himself to you face to face rather than through a dating app in a really long time. 

“She’s not alone, sorry.” Xavier appears by your side and his arm laces around your waist instantly. 

The guy politely nods and steps away.

“What were you going to tell him?” His hold on your waist tightens a bit as he urges you closer.

“I don’t know, honestly.” You glance up at him, surprised to see a look reminiscent of anger on his usually calm face. He’s not looking at you though, his eyes are still following the guy you spoke to. There is only one thing you can think of that would explain his uncharacteristic behavior, and what kind of friend would you be if you didn’t tease him for it. “Xavie, are you jealous?”

“What?” His eyes dart back to yours and all the anger fades. “No, I’m not jealous. I was just looking out for your safety. The guy seemed like a creep.”

“No, he didn’t.” 

“Why would I be jealous anyways, it’s not like you’re actually mine.” He hissed. It was clear he regretted the words the second he spoke them, but they still stung. He was right though, you’re not actually his so of course he’s not jealous. Maybe that guy was creepier than you thought after all. 

Xavier’s voice still rings in your ears as it plays those words on repeat.

‘It’s not like you’re actually mine.’

Why did it hurt so bad to hear him say it? Suddenly the room was suffocating you, his hand on your waist felt like it was burning and slowly melting the synthetic material of your dress. You nudged his hand away from you and you kept your gaze low as you watched it fall away from you before disappearing into the crowd leaving Xavier defeated and alone.

After fifteen minutes with no sight of you, he decided it was probably time for him to leave. Your sudden disappearance was probably your silent way of ending your agreement. There was no need for him anymore. He avoided your friends even though it went against every polite bone in his body to leave without thanking them for inviting him and wishing them a pleasant evening. But he couldn’t give them a reason for why he was leaving already, that was not a part of the discussions you’d had in preparation for this event. The prospect of the two of you having a falling out hadn’t crossed your minds.

The cool night air is pleasant on his flushed skin, heated from the sudden tension with you along with his modest alcohol intake. He wasn’t drunk though, he couldn’t blame his sudden jealousy induced outburst on an excessive amount of drinks, cause he’d only had two. 

Halfway down the driveway Xavier is suddenly approached by two women who look like they’re on their way back inside. The sight of him must have changed their minds.

“Hey, handsome. Why are you out here all by yourself?” One of them slurs, clearly intoxicated. 

“I’m just heading home.”

“Oh, nooo. Stay, please. If the party isn’t fun enough for you we can certainly make it livelier.” The second one trips over her words, even more drunk than her friend. 

“I’m fine, thank you.” His rejection is clearly not convincing enough for them as the first girl suddenly places a hand on his shoulder before slowly dragging it down the length of his arm. “I have to get going now. I hope you have a nice night.” He begins to pull away but the girl keeps tugging at his sleeve and even trails after him when he tries to move.

“Excuse me!” A voice suddenly calls out, your voice. “What are you doing with my boyfriend?” The sight of that girl's hand still clutching Xavier’s sleeve makes you want to puke. 

“He didn’t say he had a girlfriend.” She slurs again.

Xavier opens his mouth to speak, but you beat him to it “Well, he does so get lost.” She lets go of his arm, but doesn’t seem entirely convinced as she shows no other sign of leaving him alone. 

Without thinking you grab that same sleeve and pull him a few steps away from the persistent women. Unlike with them, he willingly follows your pull. Once you’re satisfied with the distance you’ve created between your boyfriend and the vermin who tried to poison him, you release his sleeve in favor of claiming a secure hold on the collar of his shirt. 

Your lips almost brush against his, close enough for you to feel his breath on your skin. It is as if your mind finally caught up with what your body was about to do and paused it right before disaster struck. His lips are right there, you can’t look at anything else, fearing his eyes will tell you something you don’t want to know. 

Xavier is frozen. Wide eyed and panicked. Everything inside him is telling him to lean down and kiss you, to finally feel your lips on his. Out of the corner of his eye he can see that the women who were harassing him have left, thus removing the reason for your behavior. His face scrunches up in agony as he takes your hands away from his collar.

“They’ve left. Thank you for stepping in.” He whispers. 

You don’t move. Why are you not moving? He was certain you’d step away once the threat had passed. Instead he’s met by your pained expression gazing up at him, still close enough to feel your breath mingling with his. 

“Xavier…” Your hands are still held in his and he doesn’t seem like he wants to let go, even when you begin pulling yours back up to their former position by his neck. 

“If you keep looking at me like that I’ll end up doing something I can’t take back.” He pauses to briefly study your face. “I don’t think I can keep pretending this is fake.”

“What?” 

“I… I can't bear the thought of anyone else being with you, touching you, of anyone thinking…" There are so many things he wants to say, so many things he needs to tell you. The fear of your rejection still feels like it's going to consume him. “When I’m close like this. When I touch you. What do you feel? 

“...”

“After tonight, do we go back to just being colleagues?”

“We haven’t been ‘just colleagues’ in ages, Xavie. We’re friends.” Your gaze flickers nervously from his eyes, to his lips and down to the grass under your feet. 

“Is that it? We’re friends.”

You’re about to nod, but then you notice how your fingers have been caressing his neck this whole time. You like how your hands look on his skin, you love the feeling of his on yours. As if he could read your mind, he slowly releases your hands, hoping and praying you’ll keep them right where they are, before he places his own hands around your waist. His grip slowly tightens, bringing your body closer to his.

“If I kiss you right now, will you hate me?” He whispers nervously as he holds you firmly against him.

“No…” 

Then he leans in and closes the final distance between your lips and his. He kisses you slowly, taking the time to savor the feeling of your touch, your breath, the vibration of your hearts beating in sync as if celebrating being reunited with a soulmate. 

Your hands have released his collar in favour of resting at the nape of his neck granting your fingers access to his soft blonde locks. The kiss gets hungrier, more needy, with every passing second. You want him for yourself, you want to take him away from annoying drunks who think they have the right to touch him. They don’t! He’s yours, and he’s been yours for longer than you realize.

“Do you… Want… To leave?” You breathlessly mumble against his lips.

“Mhm.” He replies, never breaking contact.

“Bus?” The word barely makes it past the force of his lips.

“No… Taxi… Faster… No wait.” He kisses you for a moment longer before reluctantly breaking away to arrange your transportation. You don’t make the task easy for him as your lips remain glued to him, leaving desperate kisses along his cheek and jaw before landing on his neck.

The ride back to your apartment was thankfully much shorter in a taxi compared to a bus. You and Xavier had barely been able to sit still, too giddy to contain yourselves. Bodies eager and itching to be close. 

Finally protected by your own four walls you allow yourself to break. All the emotions you had been denying for weeks came flowing out in the form of your hands and kisses all over the man you had unknowingly been hiding from. 

He was not faring much better himself after so many months of wanting you, but never finding the right moment to say it. The first afternoon where you had been practicing he was certain he’d never be able to simply move on after this little act of yours had run its course. Now, it didn’t seem like he’d have to.

The sudden drop from standing to falling caught him off guard. He hadn’t noticed that you had been leading him into your bedroom, too lost in the pure joy of finally kissing you. Once he realized he was currently crushing you with his weight his arms quickly repositioned to act as support as he hovered above you. 

Xavier couldn’t stop smiling, thankfully you seemed to be suffering the same fate. 

“Sooo… Are we still just friends?” He teases.

“Hm, I don’t know?”

“Is this not enough to convince you?” He questions before leaning down to kiss you again.

“Make it believable, Xavie.”

He scoffs at your demand, but he’s not one to turn down a challenge. If you’re still not convinced, he had nothing against putting in the effort to solidify his place.

“I thought –” He mumbles as his lips graze your throat, “-- I’d been quite convincing already.” Then his lips finally rejoin yours. “I didn’t realize you were so hard to please.”

You reach between your bodies and begin unbuttoning his shirt. His gaze follows your hands as they slowly work on undressing him. Xavier considered himself to be quite a patient man, you were currently proving him wrong. 

“Are you doing this on purpose?” He asks, although it almost sounds like a warning. 

“Doing what?” You reply innocently as you release one more button.

“Making me wait even longer than I already have.”

“I’m not making you do anything Xavier.” You smirk up at him, watching as the last slither of his restraint slips away “You can do whatever you want.”

To your surprise, he moves off the bed and simply stares at you. His eyes wander across your body, studying you like you’re his prey. Like he’s got you right where he wants you. 

“Whatever I want?” He whispers before tugging you toward the edge of the bed by your knees. He keeps his darkened eyes locked on yours as he holds your right leg with a firm grip and parts it from the other, far enough for him to slot between them. 

His shirt is hanging off his shoulder only held together by the bottom two buttons. Even with some of his chest still covered you can't help yourself and stare at his toned torso. Seeing it properly was far superior to those glimpses you’d gotten when his t-shirt was damp with sweat and clinging to his skin. You needed to touch him, feel his warmth against you. As your desperation grew more obvious under his continuous touch dragging along your bare thighs, so did his stubbornness. 

You had requested to be convinced, he would gladly convince you, thoroughly…

“I know you said I could do whatever I wanted, but –” He takes to his knees in between your legs making sure to keep his hands on you at all times “ – I want to do the things you like.”

You prop yourself up on your elbows to get a better view of him. He notices you staring and maintains eye contact as he places painfully light kisses along your inner thighs, starting by your knee and moving upwards. The warmth of his breath tells you he inches closer and closer to your core where your dress has now partially hidden him from you. 

Soft lips ghost over your underwear and you can feel your skin erupting in goosebumps when his breath reaches the damp fabric. A quiet giggle paired with the light touch of his fingers gliding over your sensitive skin notifies you that he is also aware of the effect he has produced.

“Let me know when I’ve convinced you we’re more than friends.” 

Your legs were repositioned to hang over his shoulders where he held them tightly as if he needed to confirm you were real and not just a figment of his imagination. The fragrance of your skin slowly muddling with his own scent envelops him in a blanket of trust, lust and unspoken promises. The taste of your sweet desire teasing his eager tongue as it finally made contact with your clothed center adding to the wetness of your arousal. Impatient and desperate for more you reach down to tug at your panties, needing them gone and Xavier closer.

He pulls away when he notices you squirming and struggling with disrobing before aiding you in ridding yourself of the fabric. He steps back even further, taking in the sight of you half naked and spread open for him on the bed. Instead of letting himself get carried away by his aching need to properly taste you he crawls back over you on the bed, guiding you along with him until you’re resting comfortably against the pillows. He wants to savour this. To savour you.

The new angle regains your access to his shirt and you quickly undo the remaining buttons as if their continued efforts to keep Xavier hidden from you is a disgrace to the exquisite man above you. You bite your lip in an attempt to hide the dazed smile slowly creeping up on you as your eyes wander across his toned torso, completely in awe at his beauty. Your reaction does not go unnoticed as a soft flush of pink dusts across his cheeks under your tentative gaze. He tucks himself into the crook of your neck, both to hide his flustered response to your ogling and to scatter kisses along your neck. A few kisses evolve into sucks and nibbles strong enough to leave a light bruise, ensuring his claim on you has tangible proof. His hands begin working your dress up your torso and you aid him in removing it completely. Your bra disappears soon after leaving you bare in front of him, completely ready to surrender. 

Xavier ventures back down your body leaving no part untouched by either his hands or his lips as he continues to shower you with lasting evidence of his adoration. He moves slowly, making sure he doesn’t miss a single freckle or scar that has helped turn you into his greatest desire. 

Truly exposed, you melt under his searing touch as his fingers trace every curve and memory that make up the map of you. Somehow both intense and gentle, he takes time to commit the secrets hidden behind the subtle gradients where your skin flaunts a shade slightly darker or lighter than the next. 

Back between your legs he wastes no time before diving into your exposed core, enthralled by its inviting softness and warmth. Your breath hitches as he makes out with your clit, making sure your lower lips are properly cared for. His tongue traces a line from your entrance back up to that sensitive bundle of nerves where he sucks gently. Soft whimpers uncontrollably roll off your tongue mixed with the sound of your laboured breathing, a sound so intoxicating Xavier hums needily into you, sending the vibrations through every nerve in your body. Being quiet was proving to be impossible with how his tongue and lips pleasured you so beautifully, but you did your best to be mindful of the neighbors. 

Your hips pressed themselves firmly against his tongue as your hands subconsciously found their way into his hair when your climax hinted at its imminent arrival. His hold on the supple flesh of your thighs, taut against the restraint of his fingers grew nearly firm enough to bruise as he fought against the growing tremble in your legs. 

Whimpers grew louder and breaths more erratic with each deliberate lap of his tongue. The previous regard for the sensitive ears of your neighbors was reluctantly abandoned when you simply ran out of capacity to remain quiet. Wanton moans and strangled cries of pleasure blanketed the room in a layer of sin. The sound of your unrestrained satisfaction along with the addictive taste of you coating his tongue fueled Xavier’s determined movements along with his own aching arousal still trapped inside his trousers. 

“Xavie! I’m – fuck, I’m so close. I’m gonna…”

Before you could even finish your warning the coil inside you snapped as Xavier brought you to your climax. The white hot burn danced through your veins and burst like stars behind your closed eyelids. Deep exhales of relief replaced your previously shallow breaths along with the tense muscles in your body slowly relaxing into the mattress. Xavier worked you through the waves of your orgasm until you tugged him off by his hair. His exhales felt cool on your wet skin as he kissed your sensitive nub a final time, savoring the thrill of being nuzzled between your legs whilst also slightly disappointed to be denied of further indulgence. 

“Did you like that?” He asks as he rests his chin on your thigh, gazing innocently up at you, fully aware of the fact that he is not innocent at all. 

You roll your eyes at him, confident that your body gave a sufficient answer to his question. 

“Xavier, please.” You whisper.

“Please, what?” He teases whilst gliding his index finger across your lower abdomen, at times letting it slip dangerously close to your sensitive folds. “Tell me what you want, buddy.”

“Buddy?”

“Yes, we’re just friends, aren’t we?” He smirks and you can’t resist rolling your eyes at him again.

He dramatically sighs, pretending to sulk at your lack of compliance. When his darkened eyes find yours again, they seem just as eager as before and ready to continue challenging your view on your ‘fake’ relationship. A challenge he is fairly certain he has already won, and you know he has. 

“Get out of my bed.” For a split second you can see him questioning every decision he’s made since he entered your room, shocked at the coldness of your tone. “Get out of my bed and don’t come back until you’re naked. It’s not fair that you’re still wearing trousers, Xavie.”

He scoffs but obeys your request and leaves to stand at the foot of your bed. You take in the mesmerizing sight of him as he begins removing his final layers. 

“Did you want me to do a little dance too?”

“Hm, maybe next time.” You tease.

“Next time?” His boxers drop and he’s naked in front of you, revealing every solid inch of him to your hungry eyes.

Scrambling to your knees you grab him by the nape of his neck and tug him down to meet your lips in a desperate kiss. You’re done teasing, done with this silly game you’ve been playing these last few weeks. You want him, all of him. He plants his knees on the mattress next to yours, pressing your bodies close without breaking the kiss. His breathing stutters at the feeling of his cock slipping between your folds, gliding easily coated in your wetness. With one hand planted securely at the back of your head to keep your lips connected to his, you both begin the journey back to being horizontal. 

“I need to be inside you.”

You instantly reached for his hard length, far too desperate to let him take his time and risk that he’d keep toying with you. He grunted at the feeling of your fingers firmly wrapped around him, finally succumbing to his own lust.

“I.. fuck… I don’t have a condom.” The words caught in his throat as they fought their way out against the distraction of your hand between his legs.

“Nightstand.” You whispered against his collarbone where you’d been leaving a few little marks to match your own.

He pulled back a bit causing you to pause your movements. 

“Why do you have condoms?” He questions, almost like he doesn’t approve of you engaging in safe sex. 

“What kind of question is that, Xavie?”

“I’m just curious as to who you would have been using them with?”

“It’s a new box. I haven’t been using them with anyone. Thanks for reminding me of my sad, lonely life, buddy.” You can’t help but laugh at the petulant look on his face.

“Well –” He reaches over and grabs a handful of the little metallic packets “ – I’ll make sure you get your money's worth. I’ve got your back, buddy.”

Condoms scatter the left side of your bed, glistening like stars in the low lighting, the brightest one remains in his hand before the metallic sheen drops like a shooting star. Leaning back down he positions himself back between your legs and teases your opening with his latex covered tip.

Your legs tangle around his waist, urging him forward. He inches in slowly, letting you get used to his size as he stretches you open. Encouraged by your simultaneous sighs of pleasure, he picks up his pace and buries himself fully inside your warmth. Your nails dig into his shoulders at the delicious feeling of being filled so perfectly. His hips move steadily, letting you feel the push and pull of his cock against your opening. But you need more.

“Harder, Xavie.”

“Harder? You want more, buddy?” 

“Stop calling me that – ah!” You screech in annoyance before his trusts turn relentless at your command causing you to cut yourself of with a moan.

“Oh, you don’t like that? How about –” thrust, “ – pal?” Thrust, “bro?” Thrust, “partner?”

“Xavier, shut up!” 

You're holding on by a thread as he leans in, teasing you with the promise of a kiss but instead he grins against your lips, mumbling "Believe me yet?”

“Yes!” You cry out, utterly dazed.

“Not faking it anymore?” 

“No! I want you, I need you as more than a friend.” 

“Good, cause I will not be able to pretend this never happened.”

He keeps pounding into you with his impressive stamina. His rhythm remains steady until he can feel you clenching around him and your back arching off the mattress pressing your breasts up against him. 

“You close?” He breathes against your neck.

“Mhm!” 

“Good, good – ah! Me too.” He kisses your neck roughly, making sure to leave another mark. This one will be hard to cover, perfect. “I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna…”

The sounds of his pleasure coaxes you over the edge with him and with a few final, frantic thrusts, he collapses into your arms. His lips blindly search for yours, warm and swollen, yet he pulls you close still eager for more. When your lips eventually part you find his eyes fluttering closed in exhaustion. Evidence of your claim on him litters his neck, his hair is ruffled and messy from your desperate fingers tangling with it. A light layer of sweat glistens on his forehead and coats the expanse of his back, making him feel cool to the touch. He smiles up at you, proudly announcing that he’s right where he wants to be.

“I’m not done convincing you yet. I just need a minute.” He whispers unconvincingly as he rests his cheek on your chest. 

“Believe me Xavie, I am thoroughly convinced. We’re not going back to being just friends after this.” 

“Oh…” He looks disappointed “But I was looking forward to working hard to make you believe me. This was almost too easy. I had so many fun tricks I wanted to show you.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” 

“Well, I was going to treat you to a nice dinner. And I was thinking we might go back to that little cafè you like so much. I know we’ve been there together before but this time I could hold your hand whilst we waited in line. You know, to really make it believable. Guess that’s not necessary anymore.”

“Xavier?”

“What?”

“I’d love to go to dinner with you.”

He peeks up at you through his lashes and smiles contently before settling back on your chest. Your fingers trail up and down his back, stroking softly along his spine.

“I’m ready to be yours, Xavier.”

AN: Still very new to the smutty stuff, hope it was ok 🫣 Thanks for reading! Likes, comments and reblogs are highly appreciated! If anyone is interested in being added to the taglist, let me know!

Taglist: @babyx91 @lemurianmaster @morrigan87 @dawnbreakerswife @sylusgworl @seraphimcollections @plzdonutpercieveme @dailydoseofanimeawesome @paneratargaryen4312 @sapphic-daze @marinenox

ll Read more: Masterlist ll © Colonel Kaboom ll

[nadinescholtes]

Ruin likes Tiger?

Romanticaly or platonic, I think Ruin likes him.

The body actors might have not thought anything by it, or they chose worlds without any thought. But I will decribe what I'm seeing here and what I think of it.

What I noticed they are very comfortable with each other.

They both want revenge to the ones who took away their partner. They share almost the same pain (Ruin lost his twice). They are mourning together. (which is kinda similar with my AU Swap Monty and Ruin)

Ruin might see his Monty in Tiger, when Ruin was passed out and awoke, he thought Tiger was his Monty.

I think since Ruin met Tiger, he was touched by him more than the whole show. And how many times was Ruin carried like a princess by Tiger I think at least 3 times. I know because he couldn't walk but still. Flare could have carried him once.

They sit always so close to each other. When they arrived in SAMS and waiting for Moon and Solar, they sit together in a room at the corner, close together even though there were other options.

In the episode Fall of THE PIZZAPLEX! in VRChat, when they were attacked, Ruin was hugging onto Tiger's arm. He could have just stand behind him if he was scared but he was hugging Tiger's arm and Tiger was fine with it.

And there might have been a little flirting too, but maybe I'm looking into it too much.

And Tiger is protecting Ruin, even though Ruin can't die. He still risking himself so Ruin doesn't get hurt. But maybe Tiger is just being nice.

Now we see their new hideout and it looks very comfy, which is strange. They are hiding, ploting to kill another Afton. Not much has changed to their situation or goal. People are still hunting for Ruin, different people but still dangerous.

They are in danger, why get all comfy, having a TV for entertainment?

Why two couches instead of one? They need just one, for one to rest and the other stay awake for lookout. Why make the effort?

Many of Ruin's hideouts didn't have that, they are cold, messy and only have what's necessary, so why?

I think he does it for Tiger. He wants him to be comfortable, hang out with him. Spend their free time together and enjoy movies. He likes him.

And when Tiger said: "After Chris, we are done!" and Ruin said: "Oh." Ruin sounded hurt. I think he had hoped something more than just being "buissness partners", after holding his end of the deal and being done with it. Maybe he had hoped to stay together.

But Tiger is hurt too, knowing that the man he was working with, (re)build something like Bloodmoon. He might be mad about the 5000 dimensions too but that was unavoidable if you wanted to erase someone from the existence. Bloodmoon was avoidable and Ruin still chose to build him knowing what people they are. Which Tiger doesn't know, he doen't know that Bloodmoon already existed before. Ruin could have build something else but he didn't.

It almost sounded like a break up.

I feel sorry for Ruin, he lost everything. But most of it was his own doing. Yes he lost his home, friends, family and love by the creators.

But he could have friends in SAMS if he would have come clean at the beginning and seek help by Sun and Nexus.

Ruin could have had a family in EAPS who gave him a second chance, but he sacrificed that for his Monty and then revenge.

Then he built a thicker "wall" between him and the Celestia family by breaking in the pizzaria and traumatize the animatronics under the Celestia family's care.

And now when he was about to gain a friend, he lost that too by his past actions.

Ruin is very self destructive and hurt everyone around him by doing so.

But I still hope that it will work between Ruin and Tiger. I ship them so much 😭

[hwanghhjinie]

haiii I am a new follower of you! And your works are just so so amazing omg!!! I have a request do you do like reactions? If yes, can You do one where reader is a Fashion designer and she makes a lingerie? And like I wonder how Stray kids would react. But you can maje if fluffy or crack!! It doesnt need to be suggestive if your un comfy with it! Love uuu

PRIVATE SHOW 👙

SKZ x FASHION DESIGNER READER

.𖥔 ݁ ˖🛸── .✦ about: fluff. slightly suggestive. skz barely holding on 😭

.𖥔 ݁ ˖🛸── .✦ notes: hii ! thank you so much huhu you are so sweet ❤️‍🩹 !! i literally just started making reactions today lmao, so i hope i did this right.

❛ ━━━━━━･❪ skz ❫ ･━━━━━━ ❜

: ̗̀➛ chan

He leans against the doorframe, eyes darkening with Chan’s trademark mischievous expression.

“So, when are you modeling this? Because honestly, I don’t think the lingerie was made for any mannequin—I want to see you in it.”

You tease back, “Oh? You volunteer to be the photographer?”

“I’m already imagining how you’d move in something this delicate… soft fabric, tight fit…I swear, if you walk into the room wearing that, I’m not responsible for what happens next.”

You smirk, “Oh? Like you’d try to keep your hands to yourself?”

Chan steps closer, lowering his voice. “Try? I don’t think that’ll be possible. But hey, maybe I’m willing to help you out of it too.”

You laugh, “Bold words. We’ll see who breaks first.”

: ̗̀➛ minho

His breath catches as you describe modeling the lingerie, cheeks flushed.

“I’m not ready for this… you in something like that, all lace and silk hugging every curve.”

You tease, “Don’t pretend you wouldn’t want to see it.”

He bites his lip, voice barely above a whisper. “I would. And maybe I’d want to touch it… or you… But I’m trying to stay composed. Though honestly, I might fail spectacularly.”

You grin, “Maybe that’s the whole point.”

“I don’t know how you expect me to focus if you’re the one modeling it. I mean, you in lingerie? That’s unfair.”

You grin, “Unfair how?”

“Like, I’m going to be completely distracted. You’re supposed to design, not become the main event.”

You tease, “Guess I’ll have to keep you on your toes then.”

He laughs nervously, “Oh no, I’m already walking on a tightrope.”

: ̗̀➛ changbin

He smirks like he’s already running wild with thoughts.

“You in that lingerie? Bet you’d have me losing my mind. Like, I wouldn’t know where to look—your eyes, your smile, or… the way that fabric clings to you.”

You chuckle, “Sounds like you’re already distracted.”

He leans in, voice low and teasing. “Distracted? More like dangerously focused. If you model it for me, I might not be able to stop myself from pulling you closer… right in the middle of the ‘fashion show.’”

You raise an eyebrow, “Scared or impressed?”

He chuckles, “Both. And definitely impressed. Can’t wait to see you in it, but fair warning—I’ll be teasing you nonstop after.”

You grin, “Good, I like a challenge.”

“Challenge accepted. Now bring on the runway… or my private fashion show.”

: ̗̀➛ hyunjin

His eyes gleam with playful hunger. “Watching you model your lingerie? That’s the kind of performance I want to see—slow, confident, every movement designed to drive me crazy.”

You tease, “And you’d watch me all night?”

He smirks, voice husky. “Not just watch… I’d want to feel every inch of it. The way the fabric slips over your skin, the curves it reveals… You’d have me completely hypnotized.”

You laugh softly, “Careful, you’re getting carried away.”

He leans closer, whispering, “I’m already there.”

You smirk, “I’m flattered. You think I can handle the spotlight?”

He leans in, playful. “With you? You’ll own it. And trust me, I’ll be watching very closely.”

You laugh, “Better not get too distracted then.”

He winks, “Too late.”

: ̗̀➛ han

He’s leaning back, smirking like he’s already imagining the whole scene.

“So you’re gonna model your lingerie, huh? Damn, you just went from designer to the main event.”

You tease, “You sound like you’re already planning the after-party.”

Han chuckles darkly, “Maybe I am. Because watching you in that delicate lace, feeling every curve... I don’t think I’d be able to keep my hands to myself.”

You grin, “Careful, you’re making me blush.”

He leans in, voice low and teasing, “Good. I’m counting on it. And just so you know, if you want a personal audience, I volunteer… front row, all eyes on you.”

You laugh, “I’ll make sure the show’s worth your attention.”

Han winks, “I have no doubt.”

: ̗̀➛ felix

He’s nervously grinning, trying his best to play it cool but totally failing.

“You modeling that lingerie? Wow… I don’t know if I can keep my hands to myself.”

You smirk, “Oh? Planning on being that distracted?”

Felix bites his lip, voice a little shaky but playful, “Yeah, like, I’d be staring way too long… and maybe imagining what it’d be like if I could touch the fabric—and maybe more.”

You grin and say with a low voice, “Is that a promise or a warning?”

He swallows nervously, “A little of both. I’d want to see every detail, but… I might get distracted by what’s underneath.”

You tease, “So you’re saying you want a private fitting?”

Felix’s cheeks flush deeper, “I didn’t say that… but maybe I’m hoping for one.”

You grin, raising your eyebrow s at him, “You better behave then.”

Felix laughs, “I’ll try, but you’re making it really hard. You know I’m a sucker for charm and silk.”

: ̗̀➛ seungmin

He adjusts his collar, voice smooth but suggestive. “Seeing you in that lingerie? I’d probably forget how to speak.”

“You’d like that, huh?” You tease him.

He smirks. “Absolutely. I imagine it hugging you perfectly… and then, when you look at me like you want me to come closer, I wouldn’t be able to resist. That lingerie wouldn’t be the only thing coming off.”

You laugh trying to mask the blush in your face, “Bold. I like that confidence.”

He grins, “You’d bring it out in me.”

You grin and give him a knowing look, “Think you can handle the show?”

Seungmin smiles shyly, “Well, if you ever do model it, just know I’ll be your biggest fan… and maybe the most distracted one, too.”

You smirk, “Sounds like you need to practice keeping your cool.”

He laughs, “Or maybe you’re just too good at making me lose it.”

: ̗̀➛ jeongin

He grins like a kid who just got away with something.

“You modeling that lingerie? I’m gonna need a minute to calm down.”

You smirk, “Why, what are you imagining?”

He leans in, voice teasing. “You in that silk and lace, walking toward me… and then maybe, just maybe, I get to see how it feels when it’s not on you anymore.”

You laugh, “You’re terrible.”

He winks, “Only for you.”

“But I like the sound of that. Maybe I’ll put on a private show.”

He smirks, “You better. Because I’m not letting this mental image go anytime soon.”

[mintmatcha]

omg mint rival reader is making me think crazy hard. tmi probably and cw for ed but like when i’m nervous in public i can’t eat at all, and sometimes that goes on for really long hours (and it doesn’t help that im visually different looking which calls a lot of attention which makes me more self conscious of eating)

i can imagine rival reader going to something so similar. constantly having to be this vision of beauty, keeping up a bubbly appearance for the cameras and the crowds, always the center of attention- it takes so much concentration and also nerve wracking that it twists her stomach into knots for hours. ofc when she’s alone with bakugou she’s fucking fed up, in the most horrible of moods, kinda takes it out on him but at the same time he’s probably the only person she lets her guard down for a little bit to even act this way.

and bakugou, after spending a lot of time getting pissed at every little thing she does, narrows his eyes a little one day like,, hey when’s the last time you ate? i don’t think i’ve ever seen you eat at all. what’s that about

i’m sorry the thoughts are consuming me

cw: eating disorders, catty teenaged girls

The worst thing about you, Bakugo decides, is how well your agencies work together. Your interns are eager and capable-- and having pretty girls around keeps his intern in line too. And being around you softens his image.

It pisses him the fuck off, but it softens his image.

The raps on the door to your office against his better judgment, but you don't look up, too busy fiddling with your shoes. You've changed since this morning, into a thick sweatshirt that doesn't suit the summer weather. He waits for you to look up, but you don't.

"I'm buying the kids lunch. You want something?"

"No." You're tightening the laces on your shoe. "I'm going for a run."

"A run? Seriously? We've been on the case since this morning." You've been running around the city since eight with no breaks; the high schoolers are basically flattened with exhaustion and hunger. "I just wanna take these fucking boots off and sit."

"That's why I'm ahead of you on the charts." Standing, you adjust your outfit again, fluffing the fabric away from your form. "I actually work."

"You're only ahead of me 'cause your ass is always hanging out." Bakugo rolls his eyes and leans back, trying to bite his anger away. "I'm serious, though. I'm buying for all your interns-- might as well get you something."

"I said no."

"You didn't have lunch, you gotta be hungry."

"I said no, Katsuki."

The sound of his given name shocks him. He didn't even know you KNEW it. Your shoulders touch when you brush by him, bullying your way into the hall.

"I'm trying to be nice for once, damn," Bakugo spits. "Do you not even eat or something?"

And you whirl around so aggressively that he holds his hands up in surrender. He's never seen you so furious, shaking with anger, and he is struck with the fact that he may have hit the nail on the head.

"I //eat//." You've rocked on to your toes, trying to gain some height on him. "I just don't wanna watch you stuff your face."

Later, he brings up the conversation to your interns, who both exclaim "oh my god" at him. They're both lounged themselves on his floor, shoes abandoned and costumes partially undone for comfort.

"Oh, she's on a diet." Your pink haired follower uses a couple air quotes and an eye roll to get her point across.

"Yeah, the two finger diet," the other chimes in.

Bakugo takes another bite of his burger and chews for way too long. His throat just can't seem to swallow. "What's that supposed to mean? The two fingers thing."

"You know, like-" She holds her pointer and middle finger up and pantomimes sticking them in her mouth and gagging. "Only thing she puts in her throat."

Bakugo had never liked you, ever. But nothing has ever made him broil faster than the way those girls laugh, like it's funny. Like you possibly suffering is funny.

"Don't say shit like that." He pushes to his feet and they both look up with wide eyes like kicked dogs. "Don't spread rumors."

The two girls exchange a sly look, but stay quiet until Bakugo marches out of the room. They aren't right. He's seen you eat. That one time, when--

No, you hadn't eaten then.

What about the party? Around all those cameras you must have--

Oh.

Shit.

[the-mislead]

Lol I remembered I have this post while I was studying and I checked the notes and found this 💀 point and laugh lmaoooo

Okay, ikkkkkk you won't actually listen to what I have to say but 😹 I like yapping and I apparently don't have hobbies or a life so I might as well answer :33333

1. Did you miss the part when I said this was reblogged on a post aimed at spreading positivity? And the part when I said that misogynistic trans men should be spoken about but it Wasn't The Point of the Post? Did you fall asleep while they were teaching you how to read lol? Because if you paid attention during that lesson you'd have acknowledged that :3 Also, this isn't pointing out that trans men are talking over women, this is changing the topic to be negative against trans men.

2. I actually love women!! I absolutely adore my mother who raised me despite all else, my headstrong grandmother (rip), my best friend who has been through so much, bless her, the teachers that I aspire to be like one day! I love them all! They're inspirational to me! Just because I am not a raging man hater doesn't mean I have a hatred for women, that'd be you, dear!

3. I can see how you came to the conclusion that all I do is post about this all day everyday! But I'll inform you that it was this period when I was facing quite a bit of both irl and online struggle! This is me speaking out about it! Though, I'd have to say you're quite the hypocrite..... I'd say you're even more active than me.... And that's saying something according to you hahahaha!

Anyways, I think all you wanted to do on this post was complain about something, which is valid, complaining can be nice sometimes. But!!! As my therapist (woman!!) that I'm so lucky to have would say: you should add something to your routine that gives you something to be happy about, a sweet, a fruit you love, whatever!! Do SOMETHING that gives you an outlet to not be such a dick to people you know nothing about. Oh, and while you're at it maybe stop being such a raging cunt to your fellow trans men hm?

[As always, read the tags]

Tbh I don't really mind when people say "x trans people too!!" On a post about y trans people, at first it was a little annoying but at the end of the day the motive is good and inclusion is also Good so there's really no need to be upset over it.

That being said:

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

———————————————————————————————

Saying THIS SHIT?? on a fucking trans masc positivity post? Really? Jesus fuck . This is the only time I'm gonna sit here and say "make your own post" because SERIOUSLY.

Make. your. own. Post.

It should absolutely be discussed that some trans men are misogynistic, but this is Not The Time. This post is Not About This. This post is Not About Trans Women. This did Not Need To Be Said.

[read the tags for further thoughts and/or clarifications]

[moonstruckme]

hi!! i’ve completely forgotten whether i already sent you this request (i do my reading late at night lmao) so apologies & disregard if i already did!!

but i was wondering if you could write something about Carmy’s stutter that he mentions he used to have as a kid in the show, maybe he had a really bad day/some kind of confrontation/a panic attack and his stutter is in full force and it makes things worse, so reader is really patient and comforting about it?

i looove reverse hurt/comfort with carmy that man needs it😭🙏

love your work & have a lovely week!!!

Hey lovely sorry this took so long, you had sent it before but this one was a bit more detailed so this the the one I kept! Thanks for requesting and for being so patient with me :)

cw: general family mayhem/stress, character insecure about stutter

Carmy Berzatto x fem!reader ♡ 1.3k words

You stand with your hand around Carmy’s elbow, rubbing your finger gently over the angel tattooed on his forearm. You try to play it off as keeping him close in a crowded room—all the Faks and Berzattos fill up a place quick, with energy and movement and loud voices that bounce off the bare walls of Richie’s new apartment. It’s easy for things to get lost in the chaos. You’re hoping the way you’re clinging to your boyfriend—and how taut his arm is beneath your touch—is one of those things. 

“Do you like your new place?” you ask Eva. 

“Yeah,” she answers shyly. Twiddling her thumbs behind her back. “I like it.” 

“What do you like about it?” you press. Richie is practically glowing behind her. 

“Um, I like my room.” 

You gasp. “You get your own room? No way.” 

Eva grins—she looks every bit her dad when she does that. “Yeah.” 

“I’m so jealous,” you say. “I can’t believe you get your own room! That is so nice. I don’t think I ever had my own until I moved out when I was a grown-up.” 

“Me neither,” says Richie. He narrows his eyes, pretending to scrutinize his daughter. “You’re getting kinda spoiled, huh?” 

“No!” 

“Carm,” you squeeze your boyfriend’s bicep lightly, “did you have to share a room growing up?” 

You can tell by Carmy’s expression that he hasn’t been paying attention. Just allowing himself to be pulled along by the tide of the conversation—letting his lips twitch when everyone else smiles, humming when it seems appropriate, and you don’t really blame him. You sort of blame Joan, though you know that’s not strictly fair; she has every right to show up to her almost-son’s housewarming party. Even if seeing her sends your boyfriend deep into his head, back into those corners you have to work hard at coaxing him out of. 

“Huh?” Carmy mumbles. 

“When you were a kid.” You sweep your finger over his tattoo in a way you hope is encouraging. “Did you ever have your own room, or did you always have to share?” 

“Oh. I sh-shared.” 

Carmy’s arm tenses. You might not think anything of the slightly elongated sound, if but for that. The other two clearly miss it. Richie goes into conversation with Eva about how lucky she is to have two of her own room at two different homes, and you watch alarm bells begin to toll behind Carmy’s eyes. 

“You okay?” you ask him in a murmur. 

“Yeah,” he breathes back. 

“Need anything?” 

“I’m g-g-” His eyes shut. An aching sympathy blooms in you at the hard set of his mouth. 

“Carmy,” you start carefully, only to be cut off when Eva asks him, “You had to share a room with my dad?” 

“Yup,” Richie tells her. His jovial tone is a stark contrast to you and Carmy’s little bubble of tension, a reminder of where you are. “Me, Uncle Mikey, and Uncle Carmy were roommates for a couple years. Right, cousin?” 

Carmy nods, with a look like the memory leaves a bad taste in his mouth. This makes Richie laugh, and you smile at him, pressing your elbow subtly to Carmy’s side in silent support. 

“Did he leave his smelly socks everywhere?” Eva wants to know. “Like how he does now?” 

“Okay, no, I was very clean,” Richie tries to contest. 

Carmy scoffs. “No, he d-d-d-” His mouth clamps shut. 

Richie lets out a surprised little laugh. It’s short, not so much from amusement as confusion, but you see Carmy’s jaw twitch. “What’s that about?” 

“Richie,” you warn. 

“I’m just wondering, since when is that shit back?” 

Eva looks confused, still caught up in the excitement of getting to make fun of her dad. “Did he?” 

Carmy breathes out through his nose. “He d-d—fuck!” 

“Carm,” you say, as Richie hurries to cover Eva’s ears. 

“What the fuck, cousin?” 

“Dad!” 

“You’re supposed to have earmuffs on. Don’t repeat any of this around your mom, okay?” 

“We’re going to go get something to drink,” you say, leading Carmy away. 

It’s a see-through excuse, but you’re not concerned with believability. You can feel Carmy’s frustration at your back like a swarm of bees that gets more agitated the longer it’s in the middle of all this noise. Richie’s kitchen doesn’t have a door to shut, but you find a vacant corner, putting Carmy into it and yourself in front of him like a barrier between him and the rest of the party. 

“It’s okay,” you tell him. 

“It’s…” He blows out a breath, looking somewhere between angry and afraid. For him, they sometimes meld together. “I don’t—I don’t do this anymore.” 

“I know.” You’re not touching him now, unsure if it’ll help or hurt when he’s already so overwhelmed. You speak in a soft, soothing voice. “You don’t have to explain it to me. It’s fine, nobody cares.” 

Carmy shakes his head. He keeps breathing, intentional enough that you’re worried he’s going into an attack. 

“Carm?” 

“I j-j-j—Jesus fucking—” He puts a hand over his face, pinching his brow in a cruel grip. 

Your heart twinges for him. “Carm. It’s fine. You’re okay. We can stay here as long as you want.” 

Carmy is silent. You want to do better than filling silences for him, but he’s making you ansty and you don’t know how to fix it. 

“I know it’s a lot right now,” you try, keeping your voice low. “It’s all—the restaurant is stressing you out, and all the shit with that, and now your mom’s here. I get it, okay? It makes sense. But I promise, nobody actually cares if you’re stuttering. We all have our own shit to stress about, nobody’s gonna think twice about that. Okay? I promise. It’s okay.” 

Carmy’s thumb and forefinger push harshly into the bones above his nose. After a while, you can’t stand it, taking his hand in yours to trade it in for a gentler touch. You set to soothing him the way he usually only allows in the privacy of his apartment, inch by inch, working out the tautness in his hand and up his wrist. 

“I w-w-want to g-g—” Carmy inhales sharply, but when he opens his eyes you only watch him, waiting to hear what he has to say. Attentive. “I w-want to g-g-go home.” 

You nod. “Okay.” You do your best to assuage the guilt you can see pulled tight around his eyes. “I mean, we’ve already been here over an hour, and we talked to Richie. I think we’ve done our time, right?” You smile at him. 

Carmy’s not up to smiling back (you know better than to take it personally), but his nod looks relieved. 

“C’mon.” You link your arm through his. “Let’s pretend you’re Irish instead of Italian for a sec, okay?” 

You’re gratified by Carmy’s amused exhale as he registers the joke. You step out of your little corner of solitude with him beside you, bulldozing a path to the door. It’s easy to be a bit rude if you’re doing it for Carmy. You hear one of the Faks call out something to which he mumbles a reply, and then you’re out. 

The earthy damp of a Chicago autumn has never tasted so sweet. You let Carmy’s arm drop, lingering for a moment outside so you can both catch your breath. 

“Home?” you ask. “Or food first?” 

He’s already stuffing his hands in his pockets, eyes going to the nearest L station. “Uh. A-are you hungry?” 

“A little,” you admit. Neither of you bothered to grab a plate after Donna made her appearance—Carmy was too high-strung to probably even think of it, and you were too worried about him. 

“I c-c-could…” His eyes flit away from yours, but you only smile, hoping he’s about to offer what you think he is. “I c-c-c-could m-make you s-s-something.” 

“Please?” you ask, beaming. 

Carmy huffs a laugh as you start for the station. You haven’t gone five steps without touching before he takes your hand. Warmth spreads up your arm through the interlace of his fingers between yours. 

[howi99]

If Jaune and Weiss "story" was reversed?

Jaune: *sigh, sitting at JNPR's table with a defeated look in his eyes*

Yang: *entering the room, noticing the depressed Knight* Damn Jaune, you look like my dad when i brought my first date home. *Sit at the same table* What's up?

Jaune: *look up at her, before looking back down* Hey Yang... And don't worry, i'm fine-

Yang: *rolling her eyes* Dude, it's just me and you here; you don't need to put on the tough act.

Jaune: *calculating the pros and cons of telling Yang his most recent problem* ... I guess you are the least likely to tell anyone... *Sigh* ... Have you noticed how Weiss is acting around me? How she's trying to highlight how much i would gain to court her? How she desperately try to get my attention?

Yang: *shrug* Who hasn't? She's the biggest princess stereotype i've ever met... *Frown* Are you upset with her? I can tell her to stop pestering you if you want-

Jaune: *shaking his head* I don't want her to have the wrong idea. *Sigh, looking away from Yang* I don't hate her, but i really don't get why she's having a crush on me.

Yang: Because you're the perfect definition of a knight in shining armor and her a princess?

Jaune: *chuckle* A knight in shining armor... If she wants to live that kind of fantasy, she chooses poorly. *Sigh* Picking me of all people...

Yang: *Listing on her fingers* You know how to cook, how to play music, you are one of the best fighters in our years… *chuckle* Heck, if you hadn't barfed all over my boots when we first met, i probably WOULD be falling for you!

Jaune: *looks at yang with a serious expression* Yang, you don't know me.

Yang: Pff, sure i do! I wouldn't be talking with you like that if i didn't know you, right?

Jaune: *shake his head with a chuckle* I didn't mean literally, Yang. I meant; What do you know ABOUT me? What do i like? What's my favorite color? My favorite song? Heck, do i even like playing music or did my parents force me to learn how to play the guitar? *Sigh, crossing his arms* See what mean?

Yang: *mulling what Jaune just said* ... Huh... *Look at Jaune with an awkward smile* Guess i don't really know a lot about you, huh?

Jaune: *sigh* And neither does Weiss. *Looking down* ... I know she's trying to hype herself up, so that she could "seem" worthy of me in my eyes but... *Shake his head slowly, looking saddened* She doesn't even know what kind of person i truly am. *Scratch the back of his head* Nor do i know what she truly is like, under all the pompous overconfidence she has.

Yang: Well, if there's one thing you DO know about her is that she's persistent. *Smirk* She might be one of the worst students when it comes to fighting, BUT, she's also the most studious and she never complains when training gets rough!

Jaune: *chuckle* Yeah...

Yang: ... You know, you could always ask her if she wants to train with you and Pyrrha? If you two interact more outside of her trying to sway you, maybe you two could actually become friends?

Jaune: *chuckle* That would be a nice change of pace... I'll ask Pyrrha what she thinks of it; she does seem to worry a lot for her safety... *Scratch his head, smiling awkwardly* And so do i, to be honest.

Yang: *sigh* Tell me about it. She has so little aura; i fear breaking it every time we spare together!

Jaune: At least, she has a good semblance. That's something to work with.

Yang: *laughing loudly* Oh gosh! Speaking of, did i tell you what happened when she tried to boost Ruby with her glyphs during our last training session?! That shit was hilarious, i almost cried!

[velvetvexations]

i'm a bit annoyed

jokey-ish post ends with: "ban all men from sports"

commenter 1 response: "if they want to play sports they have to transition" , OP agrees with this, as do a fair few others judging by the amount of likes both comments get

other commenter 2 asks: "what about trans men?"

OP replies: "trans men are men" (true statement, not the problem i have here)

I reply asking "that's the point, trans men are men so if men have to transition to play sports, are trans men supposed to detransition?"

OP replies: i guess they just can't play anymore

new commenter 3 also replies: ">post about wanting to make men not allowed to play sports, Man: “wtf that means I won’t be able to play sports anymore”"

yes trans men are men, which means that you should think about trans men when you're discussing men, and maybe consider what the implications of "men have to transition to do sports" are when you remember that trans men are included in men, "trans men are men" means nothing to me if you immediately turn around and ignore that fact when you make blanket statements

also, when someone says "men should become women" it's really not a good look when your response to the criticism of "what about trans men?" is "trans men are men" because YES THATS THE POINT, we're men, saying "men should become women" is saying "trans men should detransition" because that's what us, as men, becoming women would entail

its such a nothing response from OP, to me it essentially sounds like "i can't be bothered to think about how people like you fit into my worldview" - why is this not a thing that makes you stop and think to yourself "oh that's a good point, i haven't considered what this might mean for trans men"

yes commenter 3, why would I, a Trans man, be uncomfortable with the implication that i would have to detransition to participate in a normal part of society? why would i, a Trans person, be uncomfortable with the notion of banning people from sports based on gender? and why are so many of you, as Trans people and supposed Trans allies, agreeing with this????? why does "ban everyone who is x group from sports" suddenly become OK when it's about someone else?

also commenter 3, i'm responding specifically to this comment thread about men having to transition to do something, and about how the existence of trans men has been conveniently forgotten about in this hypothetical scenario where all men have to become women to play sports, which is part of a wider pattern of trans men being forgotten, ignored, and erased in conversations about men, and in conversations about trans people

this person sounds painfully tiresome

[ktarotttt]

enhypen’s ideal type

a/n ; i’m back guys. felt a bit disconnected and took that as a sign to take a break. slowly coming back. i decided to do them all in one because with one post comes the request for the rest so why not put it all together. i missed you guys love you always and hope you’re doing well.

heeseung

eight of pentacles, king of cups, two of pentacles, six of cups, the hermit, seven of pentacles.

starting off strong with the eight of pentacles. and honestly this makes so much sense because this is a card about apprenticeship, right? about working towards something. it’s giving “i don’t care if we’re perfect, i care if you’re trying.” and i feel like that’s heeseung. like he naturally gravitates toward people who put in effort. whether it’s effort in themselves, their passions, their relationship—it don’t matter. it’s just about showing up. like, you give a damn about your life? yeah, that’s what pulls him in. he’s not moved by surface level. he wants to see that you’re investing in your future. and that includes him. like if things get hard, he wants to know you’re not just gonna bail. you’re gonna work through it. that’s that eight of pentacles energy “i want to be better, not just for me, but for us.”

now let’s talk about the king of cups. and i know some people are gonna be like “oh but why not the queen of cups?” and respectfully… could be what you’re thinking, but I won’t dwell on it too much. 😭 this card is more about energy than gender. the king of cups isn’t just emotional he’s emotionally educated. like he knows when to lead with heart and when to lead with logic. he feels deeply, but he’s not messy about it. and that’s what he likes. i think heeseung’s ideal person isn’t someone who’s like overly sensitive or always crying or chaotic in their emotions. he wants someone who knows themselves. who feels things, but also knows how to hold space for him when he’s feeling something. like it’s emotional maturity and mental strength. he wants someone who won’t crumble under pressure but can still love soft.

the two of pentacles is interesting cause yeah, it’s often about juggling a lot, right? but in this context, i think it’s saying he likes someone who knows how to balance. like he doesn’t want a girl who’s glued to his hip, but he also doesn’t want someone who’s cold and detached. he likes balance. you can have your life, your passions, your hustle, but still make time for him. that’s hot to him. it’s also giving like… heeseung’s probably a busy person, right? so he’s gonna resonate with someone who can match that energy. someone who can spin a couple plates and not drop everything the second life gets stressful. someone who’s not leaning all the way into their feelings all the time, but also isn’t a robot. duality. poise. balance.

okay and six of cups??? this one lowkey made me smile because this is the nostalgia card. but in an ideal type spread? it’s giving familiarity. he likes people who feel like home. people that make him go, “why do i feel like i’ve known you forever?” even if y’all just met. it’s that soul memory vibe. past life. deja vu. but also just comfort. he wants to make good memories. he wants to laugh, play, reminisce. and he wants it to feel easy. and maybe even, lowkey, it touches on his inner child. like… you make him feel safe in a way that heals something in him. that’s why he doesn’t need you to be loud or flashy, he needs you to feel right.

then we get the hermit, and i know people will be like girl be serious, but hear me out. the hermit as an ideal type is lowkey kind of sexy in a deeper way. cause the hermit is someone who’s not afraid of themselves. they reflect. they pull back to do inner work. they pause before they react. and that’s rare. heeseung might not say this out loud, but he doesn’t want someone who’s always on go, always chasing noise, always needing attention. he likes people who know how to retreat when needed, people who respect his space cause they also need space sometimes too. and let’s be real, he probably relates to that. the hermit doesn’t disappear forever, they come back better. so heeseung likes someone who’s always evolving. he doesn’t want the same version of you every year. like you grow, you shift, you get wiser, and he’s like, yes. because he’s trying to do the same. and if he takes space, it’s not shade, it’s healing. and if you understand that, you already winning.

lastly, seven of pentacles. i love this as a closer because it really brings the message home. this is about intentionality. about planting seeds and waiting on something to bloom. he wants someone who’s not just in it for the moment. not just here for vibes. not just here cause it feels good right now. he wants longevity. someone who looks at love like an investment, who’s patient. who sees him as a long-term prayer being answered. who’s not gonna flake just cause it’s taking time.

jay

the lovers, the world, the empress, king of wands, judgment, queen of cups

so for jay, starting with the lovers, we already know what the lovers is. jay’s looking for his soulmate, he’s looking for his other half. the lovers is like… the two souls meshed in one. like, spiritually assigned. this is different from the two of cups. the two of cups is sometimes a better base, because it’s rooted in friendship and being aware of each other’s differences and how they create something beautiful. but the lovers? the lovers is fate. it’s bigger. deeper. like you were made for me.

the next card was the world, and that just confirms it. like he’s not looking for half-done connections. he wants the one who feels complete. and who is complete. like, somebody who knows who they are. he’s not trying to carry or fix nobody, respectfully. like i really feel like jay wants someone who’s already done that work on themselves. someone who’s ready. stable. grounded. healed. the world is “i’ve been through all the stages, and now i’m here.” he wants someone that feels like closure and a new beginning all at once. like… you’re it.

then you get the empress, which made me laugh cause if you know jay’s chart… moon in cancer, 7th house. mommy’s boy. he loves his mama. 😭 and men with that placement? they want a girlfriend that’s like their mom. not in a weird way, but in the “i need to feel loved and nurtured in that deep, safe way” kinda way. he wants a woman that’s gonna do the type of shit his mom did for him. like… that love. that presence. the empress is nurturing. she’s emotionally intelligent. beautiful on the outside, but even more beautiful on the inside. she takes care of you. she notices when you’re quiet. she makes sure you eat. she loves in that soft but powerful way. that’s who jay’s ideal is.

and then we pulled king of wands. now this part is important cause the king of wands, he wants someone that turns him on, let’s be real. confident. sexy. someone he can respect. someone that’s not just pretty, but knows she’s pretty. ambitious. carries herself like she runs her own world. like, yeah, he wants his soft nurturing mommy energy… but he also wants her to be that girl. to walk in the room and command attention. he doesn’t want someone shy or unsure. he wants someone with spark. passion. warmth. charisma.

and finally? queen of cups. like. come on now. it’s the softest card in the deck. the most emotionally intuitive. the one who loves differently. who feels deeply. who sees through people without trying. and again, moon in cancer, 7th house, he craves emotional safety in love. queen of cups is sweet. she’s kind. she’s a good person. at her best, she’s someone who will love you through your darkest shit and still speak life into you. she’s not chaotic or messy. she minds her business. she gets it. and i think that’s what jay wants. someone who makes him feel understood. someone who doesn’t speak the world’s language, she speaks his.

jake

queen of wands, page of wands, two of wands, empress, queen of swords, six of pentacles reversed

now if you know anything about the queens, they all got their own type of beauty, but this one right here? she’s the bad bitch. and i don’t mean that in a surface-level way. like yes, she’s physically stunning, but that’s not even the part that hits. it’s her energy. the queen of wands walks in and the air shifts. you feel her before you even know where the energy came from. that’s what jake likes. girls who are confident, expressive, magnetic, and passionate. she’s not fake humble. she knows she’s fire. she’s not mean about it, but if you’re insecure, she might shake you up a bit. and he likes that. sorry.

next, we got the page of wands, which just confirms it — jake likes hot girls. not just hot physically, but like… fun hot. she’s exciting. playful. maybe a little chaotic but in a cute way. she keeps it light but never boring. this isn’t about whether the relationship is light. he might want something serious, but he likes the girl to be fun. a little spark plug.

two of wands is interesting, though. this card is about vision. not necessarily having all the answers, but trying to figure it out. it’s a forward-looking energy. it’s “i don’t know what’s next, but i want it to be something.” jake doesn’t need you to have a 5-year plan, but he does want to feel like you care about your future and aren’t just floating through life. you gotta have some intention.

and then boom, the empress. this is where we shift a little. because yes, jake loves a baddie, but he also wants softness. the empress is nurturing, healing, gentle, creative. she’s not just fine, she has aura. she gives “come lay your head on my chest while i rub your back and tell you everything’s gonna be okay” energy. he likes girls who can be his peace. someone comforting. someone who feels like home.

queen of swords ; jake likes smart girls. period. she’s upright, so she’s not cold or mean, but she’s intelligent. direct. not somebody you can play with. and that makes so much sense because jake is kind of a nerd himself. like why wouldn’t he want someone who can match his freak? the queen of swords is the type of girl who communicates clearly, doesn’t beat around the bush, knows who she is and isn’t afraid to speak on it. she forms her own opinions. she has her own mind. and that, to jake, is hot. he’s not into bimbos. he wants the beauty and the brains.

now this is where it gets juicy: six of pentacles reversed. at first glance, you might think that’s a bad card, but no — this is jake saying what he doesn’t want. he does not like girls who just take-take-take. like you’re pretty, yes. you’re fun, yes. but are you giving back? are you pouring into him like he’s pouring into you? because what he’s not gonna do is keep buying you shit, giving you all his time and energy, and getting crumbs in return. that six of pentacles reversed is giving: i’m not a sponsor. i’m not here to be your come-up. don’t be lola from shark tale 😭. be real. be generous. be reciprocal. that’s what jake likes.

sunghoon

the lovers, queen of swords, two of swords, king of cups, eight of swords, the hanged man

alright, starting off with the lovers, because of course. we know what that is. we already know what that means. we’ve said it before and i’ll say it again , the lovers is not just about chemistry. this is soulmate energy. this is “you’re the one, the only one, the mirror version of me that i didn’t know i was missing.” like yeah, everybody wants that, sure. but sunghoon really wants that. and not in a shallow way. he wants the one. the person that makes him feel like life is art again. like things make sense. someone who doesn’t feel separate from him , they just are.

and then we got queen of swords , and once again, like jake, he likes girls that are smart. but not in a know-it-all way. in a “you can’t play with me” way. like, he wants someone who’s intellectually grounded, someone who can speak up, who has a mind of her own. she challenges him, but not aggressively. she’s graceful about it. she’s poised, opinionated, educated, and not afraid to go toe to toe with him if needed. she’s not performing intelligence. she just is.

two of swords… now this card always gets me when i read on sunghoon. like, the tea it pours is just unreal. every time he comes up in romantic readings, there’s always this theme of confusion, indecisiveness, duality. so when i saw it again, i was like oh. we’re here again. this could go two ways. one: it could mean his type is someone who helps him get out of that space, who helps him choose. who cuts through the fog in his head and says “this is what’s real.” or two: he’s tired of being the one who’s unsure. maybe he’s dealt with girls who are like, do i want him? do i not? and he’s over that. he wants someone who knows. someone who’s sure. who chooses him fully, no back and forth.

now king of cups… i’m side-eyeing a little. i’m not gonna open that door right now but like… y’all know the internet lore. however, as a card, this king is emotional, but he doesn’t show it all the time. he feels deeply but keeps it together. so what does that mean here? it could be that he likes someone who brings out that side of him. who makes him feel safe enough to be soft. or it could be he likes girls who are emotionally mature, who know how to love deeply, but don’t get carried away. no mess. just heart.

eight of swords hit me the most. this card is about being stuck in your own head. mentally trapped. not actually trapped, but believing you are. it’s self-sabotage. it’s inner narratives that say “you can’t” or “you shouldn’t” or “you’re not enough.” and that tells me so much about him. i think sunghoon deals with a lot of mental spirals, self-doubt, fear of doing the wrong thing, fear of being the wrong person. and i think… he wants someone who can get him out of that. someone who gently tells him, “you know you’re the one holding yourself back, right?” and not in a mean way , in a way that makes the blindfold slip off. someone who challenges his internal narratives and shows him the way out of his own head.

and finally, the hanged man. perspective shift. pause. surrender. someone who makes him stop and see things from a whole new angle. like, she says something and suddenly he’s like, “wait… i never thought of it that way.” he wants someone who sees the bigger picture when he gets stuck in the little things. who makes life feel meaningful again. i don’t think he realizes how lost he’s been feeling until someone comes along and hands him clarity — not by forcing it, but just by being. he wants someone to show him what’s still beautiful about being alive.

his energy… it’s not morbid, but it feels like someone who’s deeply trapped. like i said, that’s what the eight of swords is, someone who’s trapped in their own ways and kind of holding themselves back. not to say that the things that have happened to you that put you there weren’t real, they were , but eventually, you do have to pick yourself back up. you can’t stay there forever. and i think he wants someone to show him that. because i think right now he feels so stuck in… whatever it is. who he is, who he’s attached to, his past, his regrets, all of it , it’s like this cloud around him. and he just keeps saying, like yelling at me almost, what is the point? what is the point of life? what’s the reason i’m still here?

and i really do feel like he’s allowing me to share this because he’s putting it on my heart. like, i feel like sunghoon is in one of those places that all of us go through at least once , where you question why you’re still alive. not even in a suicidal way necessarily, but in that existential way. that i’ve tried everything, i thought i had answers, and they were all wrong kind of way. and now he’s just floating. just stuck. why am i still here? , it keeps echoing in my head. he doesn’t know. and i think he really believes that the one thing that might finally make it make sense, is love. the lovers card is here, and that’s not just romance, that’s that divine mirror energy. that person that reflects something back to you that reminds you why your heart still beats. like, he wants to find his person not just because he wants love, but because he hopes that once he finds them, he’ll finally understand why he was meant to stay alive. why everything led him here. why he’s still here.

and that’s what i’m getting from him. raw. honest. and very, very real.

sunoo

six of pentacles, seven of cups, eight of cups, four of pentacles, four of wands, the lovers

okay, so for sunoo, the first card out is the six of pentacles upright. and i immediately was like, yeah. this makes sense. like sunoo’s ideal type is someone he can pour into, emotionally, materially, physically without feeling like it’s one-sided. and when i say pour into, i don’t even just mean buying gifts or spoiling somebody (even though… let’s be real… he will). it’s about being able to give freely and not have to question if he’s being taken for granted. like, he wants that natural reciprocity. like you scratch my back, i scratch yours, but it’s never transactional, it’s never tit-for-tat. it just flows. and that’s such a water sign thing to want, especially as a cancer. if i like you? oh, you need something? i got it. you’re stressed? i’ll fix it. you want this? okay, here. but the second he feels like you expect it or don’t appreciate it? he’s out. he doesn’t want to feel used. he just wants to be able to love you the way he wants to love you and feel that love flow right back.

then we get the seven of cups, which is funny because like… this card gets a bad rap in love readings. like, oh no, too many options, too many fantasies, too many illusions. but in this context? it’s actually kind of cute. like i think sunoo likes somebody who brings that dreamer energy out of him. somebody who makes him believe that anything is possible. like they enter the picture and suddenly he’s like la-la-la, daydreaming about your future, your kids, your house in the hills, the outfits y’all would wear to brunch. i’m not even kidding. he wants a person who expands his vision of life , someone who feels like a million doors just flew open. now, does he have a tendency to romanticize a little too fast? maybe. yeah. i think he’s in love with the idea of love sometimes. like i said, cancer man. what do you want me to do? but he wants someone who makes life feel like a movie. call it delusional, i call it being a water sign. as a fellow water sign, i respect it.

now here’s where it gets interesting , because right after the seven of cups, we get the eight of cups. so he’s not just la-la-la-ing for fun. he’s looking for something real enough to walk toward. like i think sunoo wants to believe in love again. he wants someone that makes him say, okay, this isn’t just cute and fun , this is worth leaving behind my old shit for. like, this is worth growing up for. this is worth changing for. because the eight of cups is literally that, walking away from what no longer serves you, walking toward something more fulfilling. i think his ideal type is someone who brings clarity to all that dreamy chaos. like, he can be floating around in his own head all he wants, but when you walk in, suddenly he knows where he wants to go. and it’s with you.

and then we get the four of pentacles, which i’m not gonna lie , that’s kind of where we hit a wall. because the four of pentacles is clingy. not always in a bad way, but it is about possession and holding something close to your chest. so this could be him , like, he wants someone he can spoil, dream about, and walk toward, but the second he has you, he’s like you’re mine. like, i’m not letting go. or it could be that he actually likes people who are a little guarded. like maybe he’s drawn to people who don’t give themselves away too fast. he likes a challenge. he likes feeling like he earned your trust. but either way, this is someone who values emotional security a lot. he might test you a little, to see if you’ll pry. or he might just need you to let him take his time before giving you everything. but once he does? you’re locked in. and he expects the same back.

and then… the lovers. i mean. come on. the fact that this is how it ends tells me everything. like yeah, he’s sweet, he’s generous, he’s dreamy, he might be a little guarded, but what he really wants? that soulmate shit. the one. the reason why none of his past relationships worked. the person he can feel safe giving everything to. someone that makes all the la-la-la daydreaming feel real. someone who makes him believe in fate. in forever. in love that doesn’t just feel good , it is good.

jungwon

wheel of fortune, eight of wands, three of pentacles, ace of pentacles, king of swords, knight of cups + eight of cups

the wheel of fortune as an ideal type? that’s someone who just feels like they were meant to be in your life. like, i don’t think jungwon is in his “let me date around and see what happens” era. he’s not trying to try people on for size. i think he’s in a space where he wants the real thing — a connection that feels fated. like, i didn’t force this, i didn’t chase this, it just happened. and it feels like God made it. you know what i mean? some people like to explore different partners over time, and that’s fine, but that’s not his energy. he wants the one that just feels like it fits. he’s done with forcing things. and i say that because i relate , that feeling of just knowing this is the right person, not because they’re perfect, but because something bigger brought them in.

now the eight of wands , yeah, he moves fast. not in a reckless way, not in a sexual way, but in that “once i feel it, i’m ready to go” type of way. and that makes sense with giving full aries venus energy — fast, fiery, no hesitation. like, he wants you to be all about him. not in a crazy way (because crazy is still crazy), but in that way where you meet him and it’s just instant: “i want you.” he likes when the spark is immediate. when the attraction hits hard and you’re not shy about it. like yeah, he might move a little slower himself sometimes, but deep down, he’s cocky with it. he’s thinking: “why would you hesitate about me?” he had me weak ngl he kept saying to me “please emphasize i dont mean fucking” 😭😭😭 it’s that once we feel something is real, we want to experience it fully. I like you, so let’s run into the sunset. so i don’t think jungwon likes people who hesitate too much. he doesn’t like the wishy-washy energy. it’s like, “are we doing this or are we not?” he’s the type that once it clicks, he wants to talk every day, see you every day, move toward something fast. again, not necessarily physical, but emotionally, mentally, spiritually. the connection moves fast because it feels right. and if it doesn’t? he won’t force it.

three of pentacles tells me his ideal type is a good teammate. and this is so consistent , every time i pull for him, that teamwork dynamic comes up. he wants someone he can build with. someone who doesn’t just love him emotionally but makes sense with him logically too. he wants a wife, not just a girlfriend. someone he can ask for advice, someone he can make moves with, someone he trusts to say “hey babe, what do you think about this idea?” and know she’s really thinking about the future with him. someone that adds value to his life in a way that helps him grow.

then you have the ace of pentacles, and that’s big. that’s golden opportunity energy. so his ideal type is someone who feels like an investment , not in a transactional way, but in a “you’re worth pouring into” way. someone who has a lot of potential, not just for love but for life. like, “if i love you, i want to see you win. i want to help you. i want to give you everything.” and i heard him so loud , “don’t make it seem like i’m a user.” and no, it’s not that. it’s that he wants a person that he can go all in with. he doesn’t do that middle-ground, half-ass love. either he’s all in or he’s out. and if he chooses you, he’s gonna give you everything — his time, his energy, his vision, his resources, his loyalty.

now let’s talk about the king of swords. this could easily be his energy , he is an Aquarius sun , but since we’re asking about his ideal type, i’m gonna treat this like who he’s attracted to. and honestly, the king of swords is interesting as an ideal type. it shows he’s drawn to people who are intelligent, emotionally in control, and logical. not in a cold or detached way, but in that “i know how to separate my heart from my decisions when i need to” kind of way. and that’s him. so i think he wants someone who’s his twin in that sense. someone who’s smart. someone who knows how to move through life with clarity. they don’t get overwhelmed easily, they don’t act off impulse — they think. they’re composed. they’re mentally strong. he doesn’t need a ton of emotional messiness in his life, so he’s probably drawn to people who manage their emotions well, even if they’re deeply feeling people underneath. so yes, he might need a queen of cups in the long run, but his ideal type is the king of swords , someone who meets him up here. someone who can keep it together.

ni-ki

page of wands, three of wands, eight of swords, five of pentacles, ten of wands, king of swords

so the page of wands is the spark. that’s the fun. and i feel like when you pull that as someone’s ideal type, that’s a person who brings out that light energy , someone playful, attractive, flirtatious, but not overwhelming. like, the relationship feels good because it’s easy. not in a careless way , just not pressured. and for niki, i feel like that’s really important. he’s not looking for someone who’s super heavy emotionally. the page is that energy he used to show when he first debuted , that goofy, high-energy, young side of him. and i think he still wants that in love. he wants someone who brings that out of him.

but the three of wands takes it a step further. because yes, the connection needs to be fun and exciting, but it also has to be intentional. that card shows he’s not here for flings. like, the spark can’t be the only thing. the page of wands by itself can sometimes be someone who gets excited and loses interest just as fast , and i don’t think that’s what he wants. the three says, “yes, we’re having fun, but i’m thinking ahead. i want something that can grow.” so it’s like — he wants a relationship that feels good day to day, but has meaning behind it.

now the eight of swords, five of pentacles, and ten of wands… that’s the part people don’t always see in him. that’s the weight he carries. he overthinks. he gets in his head. and he might have insecurities that he doesn’t really show or talk about. the five of pentacles isn’t the type of person he wants , it’s a reflection of how he feels sometimes. like, left out, not enough, lowkey struggling with self-worth. and the ten of wands says he carries a lot. probably mentally and emotionally. he feels pressure. and even if he plays it cool, it’s still there.

so his ideal type? it’s someone who relieves that. someone who makes him feel light again. someone who reminds him what it feels like to have fun without worrying if he’s doing too much or not enough. someone that doesn’t add more stress to his life, but takes his mind off all the shit he’s already carrying. someone who gives him room to be playful, romantic, silly , without judgment.

and the king of swords at the end shows that even if he doesn’t say any of this out loud, it’s still very real for him. he might act detached or quiet about how he’s feeling, but his ideal partner is someone emotionally smart enough to just know. to recognize what he needs even when he’s not saying it. so yeah , he wants fun, but he wants intention. he wants someone light, but with emotional weight. someone who brings peace, not pressure.

[my-stories-vault]

Ohhhhh - this is different to anything I’ve heard you talking about! 😍 Love the comparison to a hedgehog 😂❤️

Haha, thank you!

Yesss, I decided to go a new way and I didn't want to overthink it so I kept my head down and let the post surprise everyone 😄

Oh Dean - let yourself be taken care of man! She’s your girlfriend, there’s no ulterior motive going on - except to look after you and make you sleep - it’s not a bad thing!

Right!? Some people just love you because we loooove you!!! 🙄

I loved all the examples of the normal parts to their relationship and how they compare to him putting his head on her lap as certainly not being weird lol. Though I’m not sure if Dean’s all that appealing now that I think that this is what he’d be like… nah - who am I kidding, I’d be laughing along with him 😂 (unless he was really stinky)

Aw, happy to hear that! I loved the idea of introducing "normal" in Dean's life too. Giving him someone who's there for all the aspects of his life, right from the beginning motivates me lol

Ah, stinky Dean is unfortunately a possibility - but we can always help him clean after himself . . .

Ahhh yep! So that’s the problem. He didn’t want to relinquish the role of driver in the first place. Has to be in control 💯 of the time. No wonder the guy can’t relax. He’s probably having major anxiety right now.

Oh, one hundred percent. The poor guy's so damaged 🫠😭

You have me thinking and wondering why now too lol. That makes total sense doesn’t it?

And you reminded me of footage I’ve seen of Jensen being confused by woman wearing perfume on their wrists. For a second I was thinking I’d made it up, but I went googling and it was a clip of him and his wife talking about it - I need to stop scrolling through Instagram and old SPN con footage 🥲

Yesss - that video gave me that idea, lol. Felt like it might be something Dean would ask too. He's naturally curious and retains far more information than people give him credit for. He'll know the randomest fact and it's just so adorable, hehe. ❤️

Daneel gave the answer about why girls wear it on the wrist and it felt pretty plausible.

As for scrolling - we're on the same path 😂🫠

I loved this H ❤️

Thank you for reading and commenting - it made my day 😘🫂

His Drive.

Pairing: Dean Winchester X Y/N L/N

Blurb: Open road. Peaceful drive. Dean feels loved.

Tags/Trigger Warnings (18+): Language, hurt/comfort, fluff, Dean's internal angst. Early seasons Dean (why, yes, that's a warning.)

Word Count: 1.8K - yep, it happened! I kept it short, lmao - this is officially the shortest one-shot/chapter I've ever published.

A/N: This is another and final submission for @zepskies 's 5K Challenge; above's the gif I received: Dean's adorkable hedgehog 😄❤️!

This was très fun, hehe - even though in the beginning I struggled for an idea a lot, I ended up with his fluffy piece, and I have no regrets because Dean's a God-given cutie, and I will die on that hill!

{ Main Masterlist }

His Drive.

Lamplights interrupted the darkness along the long stretch of road. Sam was peacefully snoring in the backseat, sprawled out as much as he could manage to defy the natural laws of height.

For once, you were driving. Dean hadn't slept for three days due to back-to-back cases. He would try to power through the last three hours that would reach you all to the next motel, where the next hunt awaited, but he'd also pulled a muscle in his back. Not that the stubborn man had told you - you guessed by the way he grimaced every time he shifted in his seat.

'Should've taken the backseat,' you told him after watching him squirm for five minutes straight.

'Sam needed it more,' Dean grunted, carefully laying his torso against the corner created by the vinyl seat and the passenger side door - you assumed he didn't want anything to touch his inflamed parts.

You gave his black bags an annoyed glance like they personally offended you. He hadn't been sleeping well, if at all, ever since he returned from Hell. You'd coaxed him into bed and worn him out with a few activities, but it all only lasted so long. At this point, you were trying to stagger his naps, so the sleep deprivation didn't hurt him so much.

It helped that you were dating him now.

You'd met him at the Roadhouse as a bartender for the Harvelles. For the first six months, you ran long-distance research for them being the resident master on mythological studies across cultures. Then Dean called you on a case. It went well enough that you became a frequent guest star in their crazy lives.

And when Dean sold his soul, you decided not to leave them at all. You remember being torn between falling in love with a dying man and fooling yourself that a dying man would love you back.

It killed you, too, when the hellhounds came for him. You returned to the bar with your tail between your legs and grieved like the love of your life had died.

You two wouldn't have gotten together - or rather, Dean wouldn't have realised that he loved you too, had you not kissed him the moment he stepped through the bar doors to see you again.

You'd streaked across the room and practically launched yourself in his arms, your lips finding his much to his surprise. But his eyes had shut, and his fingers had curled into your greasy hair. His free hand had curled around your malnourished waist and then lowered to support your thighs that wrapped you around him like a goddamn koala. He'd pulled a swig of deep breath from your lips before he returned your kiss, crushing himself against you. You two had had lost sense of time and space.

'The pill kick in yet?' you asked, eyes on the road.

You noticed Dean looking sheepish in your periphery. 'You saw that?'

'Yep.'

'Can't sneak anything past you, huh?' he said, smirking a bit. He loved how much attention you paid him. You'd once admitted that you were always staring at him, even when you didn't mean to.

You smiled wryly. 'I'm sorry if you're the only attraction of our ghastly, sordid lives.'

He snorted, but looked away, an adorable small smile on his face.

He wasn't used to how you complimented him so often. Or how you touched him all over, all the time. He definitely wasn't used to loving someone so madly, outside of his family. It scared him . . . you scared him, nearly enough that he worshipped you for it - like early men did nature.

'Come on,' you said, extending a hand for him to take. You tugged on him when he gave you his hand, 'Lie down. I'll wake you when we stop for breakfast.'

Dean weighed your hand down in the middle of the seat. 'I told you, I'm not tired. Besides, the seat ain't big enough.'

'No. I mean, lie on my lap. Rest your back even if you don't fall asleep.'

He seemed surprised by that. But he knew it was a trap - there was no way he was not falling asleep if you had anything to do with it. His eyes darted down, and he longed for it. You loved running your fingers through his hair, and he washed them more frequently (not that he would confess it) just so you could compliment their softness; he couldn't physically explain what your hands and nails did to him.

He squeezed your hand but shook his head. 'You'll go numb.'

'Oh, please, you're not that heavy.'

He grinned. 'Still. Don't want to take any chances – what if you crash Baby?'

'Stop making excuses,' you groaned. 'Let me take care of my boyfriend!'

'It's weird!' he protested. 'We're in a car.'

You laughed softly that time. 'When has weird stopped you? I mean, dude, we share motel rooms with your brother. I've seen you naked. I've smelled your fart.'

'I think that's more Sam's wheelhouse!' he defended.

You continued, nevertheless, 'I've had the privilege,' sarcastically, 'of watching you have burping matches with multiple people.'

'I'm the undefeated champion,' he bragged. You stopped asking him not to be proud of that long back.

'And I've been in the same room as you when you've peed!'

Crimson dusted his cheeks at that at least, and he rolled his eyes to emphasise his annoyance.

'I think sleeping in my lap is pretty normal by that standard,' you quipped.

Relenting, he slowly turned himself to lie down, not letting your hand go, so you had to raise it before looping it over his head and resting it on his chest when his head dropped on your right leg.

At this angle, he could literally look up to you. You smiled down at him for a second before watching the road again. As light and shadows transpired over your features like a running zebra, it made Dean's chest clench for some reason before his heart eased with a flutter. He couldn't put his finger on it, but there was some heightened vulnerability to not watching the road while he lay on your lap. He'd already put his brother's life and his own (and his car's) in your hands by letting you drive, and now he was also allowing himself to be cared for by your touch: it made him swallow the clogging emotion in his throat.

Unbeknownst to his thoughts, your hand slipped out of his fingers to change the gear, but when it returned, you'd moved it into his hair like he'd dearly anticipated earlier. Some neglected part of him was pleased when the yearned touch soothed him. He fought a smile as your fingers carded through his spiky locks, and his entire body loosened. He wouldn't admit it, but despite the cramped space for his legs, the cushion did feel amazing against the tweaked muscles of his lower back. 

He closed his eyes lest you gaze down and catch him desperately enjoying the movement of your fingers; your soft skin moving against the side of his face in gentle, unintentional caresses. He dared not breathe at a normal rate; it could disturb your hand. Ultimately, he was right about that trap: slowing his breathing led him towards the unwanted lull of sleep.

'Comfortable?'

'Yes,' he whispered – didn't want to tempt fate.

'Good.'

Your hand would sometimes stray down and trace patterns on the side of his face like you couldn't stop touching him, and it stirred something supressed inside of him; the hand would trail lower and dance above his heart that couldn't decided if it wanted to ease up or not, then you would draw your fingers back up again to play with his hair.

'What's that fragrance?' Dean murmured, trying to stay awake for a few moments longer. He'd hate to punctuate this treatment with a nightmare, even if that's where he was most likely headed.

'My fancy perfume,' you chuckled.

'It's on your wrist?' his brows furrowed.

You eased his forehead with the light pressure of your thumb. 'That's where girls apply it.'

'Why?' he whispered again because your fingers were gracing his lips now, inciting tingling there.

'Dunno. Some old-fashioned deal. Guys used to kiss a lady's knuckles, right? Probably why.'

He hummed in acknowledgment.

'You're like a hedgehog,' you mused then. 

Dean's lids opened for a second to convey his confusion to your already staring eyes, before you looked away to the road again. 'Why?' He needed to know if he was offended or not. 

'Your hair, for one,' you snickered, grasping his strands in a pleasurable pull that sent Dean's blood downstairs. 

'You mussed them up,' he commented. Not that he was complaining. 

'I think they're sexy this way,' you quirked. 

Dean smirked and filed that information for later.

'Besides, hedgehogs are a symbol of protection and vitality,' you said. 'And rebirth,' you had a good self-laugh at that one. You amused Dean; only you could find ways of making light of all the awful situations you two had been in. 'We should buy a hedgehog,' you noted at the end. 'And we'll name him "Dean".'

A dry smile graced his face. 'Over my dead body.'

'You're just gonna resurrect sooooo, that was a "no"?'

'Yep.'

'You're no fun,' you sighed theatrically.

'Mm-hmm.'

'By the way,' you chirped. 'I got some money saved for a spa day.' 

'Oh?'

'You wanna visit a chiropractor with it tomorrow?'

His lips made the effort of curving downward. 'Why?'

'For your back,' you said in your "duh" tone.

'They're not real doctors.'

You snorted. 'If you say so then it shouldn't trigger your aversion to doctors.'

He walked right into that one. Luckily, your hand wasn't there to feel his eye roll under his closed lids. 'I don't know, sweetheart. This'll go away in two days.'

'Come on.' He could hear that goddamn pout in your voice; it oft became his undoing. 'Please? For me.'

He sighed.

'Is that a "yes"?'

His lips hinted at a smile. 'You annoy me constantly, you know that?'

Your stomach vibrated next to him with your laugh; he leaned into it subtly.

'So that's a "yes".'

'Fucking fine,' he groused half-heartedly. 'One appointment.'

'Deal.'

'And you'd owe me,' he pushed his luck.

You laughed again. 'Keep on dreaming, handsome.'

And he would, in a few minutes, as sleep would soon claim him. He hoped he wouldn't have night terrors in a few years, but for now, he would settle in for his drive: you.

A/N: Simple and sweet 🥰❤️. Lemme know what y'all thought of it!

Tag List.

@hobby27 @stoneyggirl2 @emma1998sblog @globetrotter28 @aylacavebear

@bettystonewell @jollyhunter

[lilimaginebean]

🏐 haikyuu captains and how their teams discovered they were in a relationship.

DAICHI SAWAMURA prefers to keep his relationship private but not secret. Being the gentleman he is, he wants to ensure that you don’t feel overwhelmed, so he plans to take things slow. Initially, he will introduce you to his closest friends, Sugawara and Asahi, and then introduce you to the entire team during one training day. It was fair, considering you decided to become a manager to spend more time with him. Naturally, jokes about the "lovebirds," Daichi and you, are a regular part of the training.

KŌTARŌ BOKUTO probably wouldn’t tell anyone, except for his close friend Akaashi, that you two are a couple. However, everyone on his team knows there is something special between you. Why? Because his actions speak louder than words. How could he not be your boyfriend? He constantly watches you as you walk by, always waits to escort you home, and dedicates every match he wins to you. This boy thinks he’s doing a great job of keeping your relationship a secret, but he’s failing miserably at being the hidden couple he envisions. You just don’t have the heart to tell him.

SHINSUNE KITA likely wouldn’t tell anyone about his relationship. Not because he wants to keep them a secret, but because he believes it should be something special just between the two of you. If someone were to ask him, he would proudly declare that you are his soulmate. If they don’t ask, he will continue to live his life peacefully beside you. Fortunately for him, no one on the team has noticed anything unusual happening between you two. Despite his reserved nature, he always wants the people he cares about to be present during his important moments. Therefore, he decided to invite the entire Inarizaki team to his wedding, just two years after he graduates. Needless to say, everyone was shocked and even intervened with Kita about his decision.

TETSURŌ KUROO wouldn’t expect someone as amazing as you to want to date him. Hence he decided not to talk about you with his teammates to not jinx it. However, the moment you both officially begin your relationship, he starts talking about you as if his life depends on it. He always keeps a picture of you in his wallet and brings you up during training sessions, making the rest of the team try to avoid him. For his team, these interactions consist of their captain showcasing his amazing life: “Oh, look at me! I'm athletic, I have good grades, and I have a gorgeous partner.” Fuck you Kuroo. The captain knows that his teammates are avoiding him, and he uses their avoidance as motivation to push them to run faster.

TŌRU OIKAWA would probably talk about you constantly to his team even before you started dating. The moment both of you announced you were in a relationship, his teammates weren’t that impressed; since Iwaizumi begged you to give the setter an opportunity so he would stopped crying about you in the trainings. Whenever you attend his practices, he can be a bit possessive and often makes romantic gestures to show that you both belong to each other. These actions become an inside joke for the team, who sometimes tease him or jokingly advise you to find someone better than him. He would always answered sticking his tongue out to his team, and sending you a flying kiss to you. He might be a little too goofy, but he was your goofy.

WAKATOSHI USHIJIMA casually mentions to some members of his team that he is in a relationship. He does so in a nonchalant manner, as if having a partner is perfectly normal, considering how introverted and focused on sport he was. For example, after a training session, he might be stretching and ask his teammates for gift suggestions for Valentine's Day. When asked about how he spent his holidays, he simply mentions that he stayed at your house because you were home alone and scared to spend the night by yourself. He often has to repeat that he is dating you and introduce you to his teammates, as they find it more surprising that he has a partner than if he were just joking about it.

🌻 masterlist

[redflagshipwriter]

Snatching Snitches 9

Masterpost

Sam still didn’t know where Dani was. Shit. She had been missing for almost a week. “I should have gotten her a phone,” Sam said. She sent a crying emoji. 

“She can’t read,” Danny pointed out miserably. “It didn’t make sense for you to do that immediately. “You didn’t know she would run away.”

Tucker sent a series of crying emojis in the groupchat. “I’ve got nothing from Vlad’s emails,” he texted. “I don’t think he knows where she is either. I don’t think he’s looking.”

Danny sent an angry emoji face. Sam sent a vampire and then a bunch of guns. Danny sort of agreed with the sentiment.

Jazz sighed loudly, bringing his attention back to the real world enough that Danny noticed the sounds from the television.

“Been buying him dog beds, dog jackets, the whole kit and caboodle,” Dick Grayson said on daytime television, hateful and fascinating despite Danny’s best efforts to look away. The studio audience laughed. Danny didn’t see what was funny about that. He watched resentfully as Dick somehow lounged even harder on Poprah’s big comfy sofa, preening under the approval of strangers. “Bruce, on the other hand-“

Danny shut the TV off and tossed the remote across the room. He buried his face in his hands and let out a strangled scream. 

Everything reminded him of that mess. It had been a horrible week.

‘I really… What if Damian was telling the truth?’ He modulated his breathing. ‘Jazz was interested in keeping me safe. She would lie to keep me away from them to keep me safe from rodeo clowns and chemists. It made some sense. I am not smart enough to be a Fenton.’

“Oh, look at this.” Jazz leaned against his side and flashed her phone in his face to show him a celebrity gossip article. “Look at Damian Wayne in his new suit this morning. It’s Armani. What do you think that’s for?” 

“Stop,” Danny whined piteously. He felt so low. He was muck. He was a base and bad guy.

“He’s got a tie on,” Jazz said. “Like a little gentleman.”

He opened one eye, still hidden behind his fingers.

“And I think he got… no, not a haircut, but it looks really different.” A frown came across in her voice. “It reminds me of old photos of Dick Grayson.” 

He had to look. “He does,” Danny breathed, reluctantly fascinated. Damian didn’t really look like Dick, but you could see the influence. Would Danny look like Dick if he moved his part and added volume… He pulled his fingers out of his hair before Jazz could notice. 

She was too busy frowning at her phone. “I do feel bad,” she muttered. Her socked feet flexed in the air and she grimaced. “Damian seems like a sweet boy. And he’s obsessed with you.” She cast a rueful look at Danny. He blinked back at her guilelessly. “He would want you to go to school. I bet you’d get all the benefits of association with the family.”

“Yeah.” Danny shrugged. “I bet they could get me a job in space.” He scratched at his face. “I might have to fight space crime, though.” Like a Green Lantern or something. Space bat? Would they make him a Space Bat? The unending vacuum of space sounded less scary than Gotham, to be fair, but he was more into the idea of exploration.

“You’re not allowed to fight space crime until you have at least your first Doctorate,” Jazz warned. She shook a finger at him. “You can’t embarrass us in front of aliens.”

Danny just shrugged again. He was vaguely certain he was capable of embarrassing his family and race in front of literally any audience, but he didn’t feel like fighting with Jazz right now. 

Hey. He frowned and sat up straighter. “Hey Jazz?” Danny asked. She was clutching at her stomach with one hand and frowning in distraction. “Do you feel like maybe you’re being slowly pulled through time and space?”

“…What?” Jazz blinked at him. 

“Just saying.” Danny shrugged. The room bled green. “Hmm.” He stood up. “Jazz?”

She was staring at her hands. “What?” Jazz said, baffled, as she went intangible and fell a few inches from the sofa to the ground. She shrieked and Danny lurched to help her get her balance as the world around them went static and re-emerged as a circular room lined with dark benches. 

“Good afternoon, helpless ghost infants,” greeted a skeleton in a guard uniform as Jazz scrambled to her feet and plastered herself to Danny’s back. “You’ve been summoned to court.” He had a nametag written in a language that Danny didn’t know. Dumbfounded, he stared around the room. It was huge, with high windows that let in vibrant green light. The center of the room was the lowest point. It sort of seemed like  the bench where a judge would sit.

“I am not an infant!” Danny scowled. “I am 15 years old!”

The skeleton gave him a politely dubious look. “Is that so,” he said. He definitely didn’t believe him. Danny sulked.

“...I am not a ghost,” Jazz said. ”I am a living human.” She held her hands out. “Look at that, that’s blood in my body. Not ectoplasm.”

The skeleton managed to frown slightly. He leaned forward and inhaled. “...That’s a mix. I see ectoplasm, ergo, you are a ghost.” He gestured forward with a hand. “Have a seat, proceedings are about to start.” 

“I have- what?” Jazz blinked rapidly. She made a gibberish sound.

“What?” Danny said. The room lit up with a faint glow as ghosts materialized into place in the stands. Jazz jumped out of her skin and grabbed at his arm. She stared around with wide eyes at the gallery of strangers.

Every one of them was looking at the two of them. Some of them had cameras and notebooks.

“...Should you maybe be Phantom?” she asked, very quietly. 

Danny took it all in and transformed wordlessly. 

“Greetings! You can call me Alcesta!”

Jazz shrieked and flung herself backwards, away from the grinning pumpkin-headed ghost who had greeted them. 

The ghost looked taken aback by this reaction. She smoothed down the front of her Victorian-era gown and took a moment to compose herself before grinning down at them again. “...my apologies for startling you. Have a seat, ghostlings.” She gestured them to a seat towards the center. “I’ll be your barrister today. If you have any questions or requests, direct them to me.”

“I have a question,” Danny said. “Why am I here?”

“That’s a fantastic query to start with, you’re doing wonderfully,” Alesta praised. She bullied him into a seat so fast his head was still spinning when she pointed across the room. “Your Father is suing for custody of you.”

“...No,” said Jazz, sounding lost.

“Yes,” said Damian Wayne, wearing the little suit and tie that TMZ had snapped a photo of him in this morning. He gave them a weird little nod-bow thing. “I am sorry to undermine you, but your home environment is clearly unsafe. It would be irresponsible of me to leave you there.”

Jazz opened her mouth. She closed it without saying anything.

“Please, sir,” Alesta shrilled. She held up a hand and blasted Damian back. Danny yelped. The preteen stumbled but caught himself without injury and sniffled loudly in affront. “You may not approach the minors at this point in proceedings. Really!” Flustered, she sort of… ruffled. She turned back to them with a whisper. “Things aren’t settled yet,” Alesta explained. She sort of sniffled. “Deadbeat parents are not guaranteed custody.”

“..He is not a deadbeat,” Danny defended weakly. 

“Oh?” Alesta raised an eyebrow. Why did she have an eyebrow on a carved pumpkin face?

“I ran away, he didn’t leave me.” Danny lifted his shoulders in a half hearted attempt to hide. “He’s just… He’s not my father, that’s all. I have a father already.”

Alesta’s mouth thinned out to a mere slit. “Hmm,” she said, and turned away. “The judge will be here soon.”

A gong rang out. Danny looked around for it.

It rang again.

Everyone else was seated. Jazz slowly sank down to the bench next to him, the last person standing in the entire room.

A skeleton in another guard uniform cleared their throat. “All rise for his honor, chief justice of this court,” they announced.

‘We literally just sat down,’ Danny thought, baffled, but he copied everyone else.

The ceiling blew open. Sort of. It unpeeled like a can and a miasma seeped inside. It was black and choking. It crawled and danced through the air and coalesced into a vaguely humanoid form at the empty bench in the middle of the auditorium.

“Be seated,” hissed the miasma. Something sparked.

They sat.

“The first case on the docket is D. Wayne, suing the kingdom for emergency custody of minors,” announced the second skeleton. Damian nodded as heads turned to him. He looked totally unsurprised by this. Of course he was, Danny realized through his shock. Damian had planned this. “Wayne has evidence to show the existence of consent to custody of the middle child, Phantom Danny. Wayne has physical custody of the youngest child, Phantom Dani. Wayne sues this court to grant full custody of all three Phantom kittens, who are represented by Barriest Alesta.”

“Three?” Jazz shrieked. “He’s suing for custody of me? I’m 17!”

“Kittens!” Danny felt his jaw drop in outrage. “I am not a catb-”

“Hi!” Dani chirped. “I love him!” She was right at his elbow, wagging her tail rapidly. She was also a dog with a human mouth. 

Danny screamed for real.

[seitmai]

Many thoughts

She puts a hand over yours with a knowing smile. "I remember your father before his first big promotion decision. Couldn't eat for two days." "That was different," your father protests mildly, though his eyes twinkle with amusement. “Nothing close to a presidential race.”

Close enough 🤭

"—and we're just getting the first results from Indiana now," his voice carries over the ambient conversation in the room. "With sixty-two percent of precincts reporting, we can now project that Indiana will go to Independent candidate Steve Rogers."  The room falls silent, all eyes turning to the screens as a section of the map flashes and then fills with green—the color the networks have designated for your campaign. 

Oh 👀👏🏻

Your father wraps an arm around your shoulders, giving you a squeeze. "First one on the board," he says, his voice thick with pride. "It's just one state," you remind him, though you can't help the flutter of excitement in your chest. "But it's a sign," your mother adds, her eyes bright. "People are listening."

Definitely a sign, a good one at that!

With the first green state on the board, it’s no longer a pipe dream that Steve could win states. But the question is will he - or Monroe or Peterson - earn the two hundred and seventy needed to win the presidency outright?

Game on

Ohio would be an incredible get. But so was landing an interview with Oprah, who’s now optimistically texting you on election night. You glance across the room at your husband - former Captain America - speaking to the current Captain America and shake your head ever so slightly. How is this your life?

For real 😅

He turns slightly, offering you a smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes. "Just wondering what the Founding Fathers would think of all this. Three viable candidates, a former Avenger on the ballot..."  "I think they'd be impressed by how far we've come," you reply, leaning into his warmth. "Democracy evolving, adapting."

Not sure if they would have loved it, but they probably also wouldn't have loved to see women or people of color vote, so I wouldn't put too much thought on their opinion 🤷🏻‍♀️😅

Sophia grimaces in sympathy. “I think there’s a change of clothes already laid out for you in case something like this happened.”

I would need this irl way too often lol

So a little Diet Coke spill cannot dampen the buzz of impossible excitement you’re feeling in your bones. 

She's so real for that

Why is your wedding dress here? Surely it’s not some symbolic nod they want you and Steve to make about your arranged marriage… That would be insane.

Oh 👀

"Steve, why is my wedding dress here?" "Because I was hoping you might wear it again," he says, his voice low and steady despite the emotion you can see flickering in his eyes.

He was suspicious with Dam and Bucky before 🤔🤨

"Sophia's drink was no accident," he says with a half-smile, and suddenly everything clicks into place—the furtive conversation with Bucky and Sam, the meaningful glances, Sophia's uncharacteristic clumsiness. "I needed a moment alone with you."

Damn he really needed that moment if he made Sophia spill her drink on purpose 🤭

You shake your head in disbelief, but warmth is spreading through your chest as realization dawns. "In the middle of election night?" Steve's thumb traces gentle circles on the back of your hand, his touch grounding you as the world seems to tilt on its axis. "I couldn't think of a more perfect time." 

Perfect timing is subjective 😅

"These last months have been the most extraordinary of my life," he continues, his voice gaining strength. "Not because of the campaign or the people or the possibility of making a better future for the country, though all those pieces have been incredible in their own right, but because of you. Because I've had the privilege of falling in love with my wife—really falling in love with you—day by day, moment by moment."

🥹🥹🥹

“You were asked to be my wife,” Steve says, matter-of-fact, “and not even by me, but now I want to ask if I can be your husband?”

"Tonight, the country is deciding if they want me as their president, but I already know what I want. I want you, for the rest of my life, not because a strategy demanded it, but because I love you. Because I choose you. Because when I look at my future—whether it's in the White House or back at our brownstone in Brooklyn or anywhere on this earth—the only thing I know for certain is that I want you beside me."

Truly the sweetest man

You blink in amazement. "You planned all this? During the most important night of the campaign?"

Multitasking baby 🙂‍↕️🫡

"This is the most important night of our lives," Steve corrects you, his hands warm and steady at your waist. "Not because of the election, but because it's another beginning for us. Our real beginning."

He truly has a thing with words 🥹🥰

"What if you win?" you ask, your practical side making one last attempt at reason. "Then we celebrate twice," he says simply. "And if we lose, we still have something beautiful to mark this night."  The logic of it strikes you suddenly—the perfect symmetry. Your marriage began as a political calculation, a strategy to win an election. Now, on election night itself, you have the chance to transform it into something chosen freely, with full hearts and clear eyes. 

No better moment than this!

"Georgia, Texas, and Ohio," Bucky announces, his eyes bright with something between disbelief and triumph. "All three just came in green. Within five minutes of each other." 

Damn

"Just fifty-one more to go," Bucky confirms, his eyes gleaming. "Jake's losing his mind up there. The networks are scrambling. No one saw Texas coming." You grab Steve's arm, dizzy with the implications. "We're actually doing this," you whisper. "We're actually winning."

Now it really becomes real🫣

Bucky watches your faces with a mixture of joy and impatience. "So, are we still doing this thing or what? Because the window of free time has narrowed significantly if you’re still… wait, did you ask her?" "Yes," you say firmly, squeezing his hand. "We're absolutely still doing this. I don't care if every state in the union turns green in the next twenty minutes—I'm marrying you again tonight, Steve Rogers." 

They both want this so much right then and there 🥰

Steve's face breaks into that radiant smile that still makes your heart skip, and he turns back to Bucky, who’s grinning almost as much as Steve. "Wedding's still on. Tell everyone to meet us downstairs in fifteen minutes."

Ahh I love how much Bucky became a supporter of their relationship😍

Sophia follows her inside, the back up cosmetics bag she’s carried around ‘just in case’ for you during the campaign in hand, a determined expression on her face. "I still can't believe I had to feign clumsiness as part of a presidential conspiracy," she laughs, setting the bag down on the dresser. "Though I have to admit, spilling that drink on cue was harder than any campaign strategy I've had to execute."

I believe that😅

Steve stands at the front of the room, his eyes finding yours immediately as you begin your walk. The small gathering of your closest friends and family—Sam, Bucky, Sophia, Jake, your mother, Pepper, Maria Hill, Peter Parker—all rise, but you barely notice them. Your entire world narrows to Steve's face, to the look of pure adoration that transforms his features as he watches you approach.

They only have eyes for each other 🥰

"I'm so happy for you," he whispers, his voice rough with feeling. "Not because you might be First Lady, but because you found someone who will look at you like that for the rest of your life."

🥹🥹🥹

Everything this time is different. You can’t take your eyes off each other, you hold onto his hands desperately - earnestly - because you need to like you need to breathe. Steve slides your wedding band back onto your finger, and this time when he does it, your heart feels like it might burst from happiness. When the chaplain pronounces you husband and wife - again - Steve's kiss is nothing like the polite, chaste brush of lips at your first ceremony. This kiss is deep and passionate, a promise and a claiming all at once. The small group erupts in cheers and applause as you melt against him, your hands finding their way to his shoulders, his arms wrapping securely around your waist.

Ahhh so happy for them, they truly deserved this moment🥰

Jake clears his throat loudly. "Sorry to break up this moment, but we've got Montana and Colorado coming in green. That's fourteen more electoral votes."

Impeccable timing haha

Steve laughs, keeping his arm around your waist as you both turn to face your friends. "Two hundred and thirty-three," he says, shaking his head in wonder. He turns to look at Pepper. “You might not have been crazy about any of this after all.” She beams. “I’ve been known to have an eye for people and possibilities - and I couldn’t be happier to be right about this.”

She truly has a knack for this!

Your small wedding reception consists of champagne and a hastily assembled dessert bar courtesy of the Plaza's pastry chef who, upon learning Captain America was renewing his vows on election night, insisted on creating something special. The elegant room buzzes with conversation and laughter, an island of personal joy amid the political storm raging outside these walls.

Wedding and finale of a presidential campaign, certainly an unique mix 🤭

 "Like I'm living in a dream," you admit, tilting your face up to meet his gaze. "What about you? Still nervous about the results?" "I'm exactly where I need to be," he answers, his eyes never leaving yours. The certainty in his voice makes your heart swell. "Everything else is just..." He trails off, searching for the right word. 

🥰🥰🥰

The room has gone completely still, everyone holding their breath as they piece together what's happening. Jake's eyes are wide, his fingers frantically tapping on his tablet as he runs calculations. 

Im holding my breath too lol

"Monroe just conceded," Steve says finally, his voice carrying across the suddenly silent room. "He just called to tell me he's about to make the announcement publicly." You grasp his hands, speechless, as the enormity of the moment washes over you. Your husband—your real, chosen husband as of ten minutes ago—is about to become the President of the United States. 

Wow

The room erupts again, this time in a cacophony of cheers and sobs. Sam wraps Steve in a bear hug, lifting him slightly off the ground. Bucky stands back, shaking his head in wonder before moving in for his own embrace. Your mother is crying openly now, your father's arm tight around her shoulders as they beam with pride.

The hugs between the boys 🥹🥰

But all you can see is Steve's face—the mixture of disbelief, humility, and determination that washes over his features as the reality sinks in. The man who woke up from the ice to find his country changed, who fought to protect it even when it turned against him, who stood up for what he believed in no matter the cost—that man is now going to lead the nation he has always served.

I'm certain he will be great at it

Steve nods, but his eyes never leave yours. In this whirlwind of history being made, he reaches for you. "Come with me?" he asks, and though it's phrased as a question, you both know there's only one answer. "Always," you reply, taking his hand. 

"We need to get you changed back from groom to presidential and then back downstairs," Jake says, already shifting into logistics mode. "They'll be expecting a victory speech soon in Central Park."

Quickest wedding reception ever, but for a good reason at least 🤭

Ahhh can't believe its over 🥹 i'm just so happy for them👏🏻🥰

Red, White & True: Election Day in New York, Pt. 3 [17/17]

Characters/Pairings: Steve Rogers x curvy Millennial Female!Reader Word Count: 5.8k Summary: Everything draws to an end, and results are coming in.

Content/Warnings: political/campaign discussions, marriage of political convenience, slow burn, really the slowest burn, strangers to friends to true love

Notes: This takes place in a post-Endgame scenario where Steve stays and generally most of TFATWS happened.

Previous Chapter | Series

↠ Main Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

[NOVEMBER 3 - 7:52PM - FIFTEENTH FLOOR SUITE, THE PLAZA HOTEL]

A handful of states close their polls at 6pm, and so as you sit up in the suite eating dinner with staffers and your parents, you’re starting to see a few spots on the map change from grey to red or blue. Kentucky and South Carolina have gone red; Vermont, Virginia, and North Carolina are in the blue; and nothing has been projected or called for Steve yet - who will show up in green on the map. The campaign spent a lot of time jumping in and out of Georgia since it would be a key swing state for everyone, and their polls closed at seven, but it will likely be hours before things are definitively called there. 

With three major contenders, a candidate only needs a minimum of 34% of the ballots to take their votes in the electoral college in forty-eight of the fifty states.

Your father passes you a plate of appetizers from the elaborate spread catering has set out. In true Plaza fashion, every morsel looks like a miniature work of art, but your appetite is fickle as you watch the electoral map with one eye while trying to maintain conversation with the others in the room.

"You've barely touched your food," your mother observes, her voice low with concern. "You need to keep your strength up. It's going to be a long night."

"I know, I'm just nervous." You gesture vaguely toward the television where Anderson Cooper and Jake Tapper are holding court with a robust cohort of political analysts and thought leaders, debating and analyzing all the developments so far. In addition to the presidential race, there are Senate and House races that will determine how things will stack up in Congress. 

She puts a hand over yours with a knowing smile. "I remember your father before his first big promotion decision. Couldn't eat for two days."

"That was different," your father protests mildly, though his eyes twinkle with amusement. “Nothing close to a presidential race.”

On the television screens throughout the suite, CNN's John King stands at his "Magic Wall," the giant interactive electoral map that has become a fixture of election night coverage. The camera catches him mid-sentence as he zooms in on the Midwest. 

"—and we're just getting the first results from Indiana now," his voice carries over the ambient conversation in the room. "With sixty-two percent of precincts reporting, we can now project that Indiana will go to Independent candidate Steve Rogers." 

The room falls silent, all eyes turning to the screens as a section of the map flashes and then fills with green—the color the networks have designated for your campaign. 

"Indiana," King continues, tapping the state with practiced precision, "with its eleven electoral votes, becomes the first state to be called for the Rogers-Young ticket tonight. This is significant, folks. Indiana has traditionally been a Republican stronghold in presidential elections. The last time it went Democratic was for Barack Obama in 2008, and that was considered a major upset at the time. For Rogers to take Indiana suggests that the independent campaign has successfully carved into traditional Republican territory."

A cheer erupts from the campaign staff, high-fives and hugs exchanged across the room. Jake punches the air, his face alight with vindication.

"I told you the ground game there was working!" he exclaims to no one in particular. "Those extra rallies in Fort Wayne and Evansville paid off!"

Your father wraps an arm around your shoulders, giving you a squeeze. "First one on the board," he says, his voice thick with pride.

"It's just one state," you remind him, though you can't help the flutter of excitement in your chest.

"But it's a sign," your mother adds, her eyes bright. "People are listening."

Steve makes his way over to you, navigating through the celebrating staffers. When he reaches you, he leans down to kiss your cheek, his eyes bright with cautious optimism.

"One green state on the board," he murmurs against your ear.

"Eleven electoral votes closer to two-seventy," you reply, referencing the magic number needed to win the presidency. "Only two hundred and fifty-nine to go." 

With the first green state on the board, it’s no longer a pipe dream that Steve could win states. But the question is will he - or Monroe or Peterson - earn the two hundred and seventy needed to win the presidency outright?

The network cuts to a commercial break, and you take the opportunity to check your phone. Messages have been pouring in all night—from friends, former colleagues, even a few celebrities who've publicly supported the campaign. But one text catches your eye—from Oprah.

Indiana's just the beginning. Keep watching Ohio. I've got a feeling.

Ohio would be an incredible get. But so was landing an interview with Oprah, who’s now optimistically texting you on election night. 

You glance across the room at your husband - former Captain America - speaking to the current Captain America and shake your head ever so slightly. 

How is this your life?

The evening progresses in a blur of projections and anticipation. Ohio, Pennsylvania, and Governor Peterson’s home state of Michigan remain too close to call, but Florida's thirty electoral votes flash red at 9:15 PM, sending a wave of grumbling and groaning through the room. Connecticut and Delaware come in as green to give Steve ten more votes between them. 

Maine - one of the two states that can allocate votes - doles out three blue to Monroe, but Steve takes one green from their share. Missouri, New Jersey, and Rhode Island come in for Steve, but it’s still only 50 votes with Peterson at 36 and Monroe taking most of Democratic New England to sit at 63. 

Steve paces, he stands in quiet consternation by the window, dives into data with Jake, and cycles back through it all again and again. Jake is adamant that Steve shouldn’t appear in public again until it’s time for his speech - that visits to the crowd in Central Park or in the Grand Ballroom downstairs should only come from his VP candidate Charlie Young, Charlie’s wife Zoey, or you.

You find yourself drifting to Steve's side as he stands alone by the window, looking out at the Manhattan skyline glittering against the night. His reflection in the glass shows a man deep in thought, shoulders tense despite his attempt to appear composed. 

"Penny for your thoughts?" you ask softly, sliding your arm through his. 

He turns slightly, offering you a smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes. "Just wondering what the Founding Fathers would think of all this. Three viable candidates, a former Avenger on the ballot..." 

"I think they'd be impressed by how far we've come," you reply, leaning into his warmth. "Democracy evolving, adapting." 

"Or they'd be horrified that a super soldier could potentially be president." 

You squeeze his arm. "They'd see what I see—a good man trying to do what he can for his country." 

Before Steve can respond, there’s another joyous uproar when Illinois and its nineteen votes go green for Steve, bringing him up to 69 votes and surpassing Monroe for the first time tonight. 

The energy in the room spikes with each new state called. Aides rush back and forth with updated numbers, tablets displaying real-time data from key precincts. The clink of glasses and nervous laughter punctuate the tension as everyone watches the map slowly fill with colors. 

Sophia weaves through the crowd toward you, tablet clutched in one hand and a Diet Coke in the other. Her face is flushed with excitement, eyes bright with the adrenaline that's keeping everyone going. 

"We just got word from our team in Ohio," she says breathlessly, leaning in close so you can hear over the chatter. "The numbers from Cleveland and Columbus are stronger than we projected. If the trend holds—" 

Just then, Jake calls out from across the room, "Pennsylvania's been called by AP! We took those nineteen, baby!”

The room erupts at Steve taking his first swing state off the board from red or blue, with people jumping and hugging, including yourself and Sophia. 

In your excitement, you don't notice Sophia's drink tilting precariously until it's too late. Cold liquid splashes across your silk blouse, the dark cola creating an instant stain that spreads down your front. The icy sensation makes you gasp, jumping back reflexively as the room continues celebrating around you.

"Oh my God!" Sophia's eyes widen in horror, her hand flying to her mouth. "I'm so sorry! I can't believe I just did that." Her face flushes crimson, mortification replacing her previous excitement. "I'm never this clumsy!"

"It's just a Diet Coke," you assure her, grabbing a nearby napkin to try and dab away at the liquid - but it’s reflex more than anything. You know it won’t help in this case. “I’ll go change, it’s fine.”

Sophia grimaces in sympathy. “I think there’s a change of clothes already laid out for you in case something like this happened.”

You laugh. “It’ll be good to stretch my legs anyway. I’ll be right back.”

You slip out of the suite without drawing any attention to yourself - except for your Secret Service agent, who falls in step with you - and head down the hallway. 

With Pennsylvania in the pile with Kansas, Louisiana, and Iowa that came in just before, Steve’s up at 108 electoral votes. 

Peterson’s red has surged up to 90, but Monroe’s blue have held steady at only 63. 

So a little Diet Coke spill cannot dampen the buzz of impossible excitement you’re feeling in your bones. 

The agent remains in the hallway once you key in the door. The Secret Service has had this floor on lockdown all day, precluding a need to check your room. 

You kick off your heels immediately, then step in front of the mirror to survey the damage and laugh to yourself. It’s bad. But months on the campaign trail mean your team has extra clothes ready to swap out for you or Steve at any given moment. And, sure enough, when you step through the small sitting room into the bedroom of the suite there’s a garment bag laid across the king size bed. You begin to unbutton your blouse, then blink and turn back to look at the bag again. 

“No…” you say out loud to no one, as you step closer to the foot of the bed. “What…?” 

Why is your wedding dress here? Surely it’s not some symbolic nod they want you and Steve to make about your arranged marriage… That would be insane. 

There’s a click of the lock at the door, and then Steve’s voice. “Sweetheart?”

Your heart rockets all a-flutter in your chest at the way the endearment rolls so naturally off his tongue. 

“In here,” you call, your voice wavering slightly as you stare at the wedding dress.

Steve appears in the doorway, and you immediately notice he's changed out of his navy suit into a crisp white shirt and dark slacks. His eyes find yours, then follow your gaze to the garment bag on the bed.

You note that he doesn’t look surprised at all. 

Instead there is a curious mix of determination and vulnerability in his expression that makes your breath catch.

"Steve, why is my wedding dress here?"

"Because I was hoping you might wear it again," he says, his voice low and steady despite the emotion you can see flickering in his eyes.

"Wear it again?" you repeat, confusion clouding your thoughts. "Tonight? For what?"

Steve crosses the room slowly, his movements deliberate as he comes to stand before you. The soft light of the bedroom casts shadows across his face, highlighting the strong line of his jaw, the earnestness in his eyes. He takes your hands in his, and you're surprised to find them slightly trembling. 

Or is that you?

"Sophia's drink was no accident," he says with a half-smile, and suddenly everything clicks into place—the furtive conversation with Bucky and Sam, the meaningful glances, Sophia's uncharacteristic clumsiness. "I needed a moment alone with you."

You shake your head in disbelief, but warmth is spreading through your chest as realization dawns. "In the middle of election night?" 

Steve's thumb traces gentle circles on the back of your hand, his touch grounding you as the world seems to tilt on its axis. "I couldn't think of a more perfect time." 

Steve takes a deep breath, his eyes never leaving yours. 

"These last months have been the most extraordinary of my life," he continues, his voice gaining strength. "Not because of the campaign or the people or the possibility of making a better future for the country, though all those pieces have been incredible in their own right, but because of you. Because I've had the privilege of falling in love with my wife—really falling in love with you—day by day, moment by moment."

Your heart swells at his words, eyes misting as you see the raw sincerity in his gaze. This is Steve Rogers—not Captain America, not the presidential candidate—just the man who has become your whole world.

“You were asked to be my wife,” Steve says, matter-of-fact, “and not even by me, but now I want to ask if I can be your husband?”

"Steve," you breathe, your voice barely audible over the pounding of your heart. 

"Tonight, the country is deciding if they want me as their president, but I already know what I want. I want you, for the rest of my life, not because a strategy demanded it, but because I love you. Because I choose you. Because when I look at my future—whether it's in the White House or back at our brownstone in Brooklyn or anywhere on this earth—the only thing I know for certain is that I want you beside me."

Emotion makes your throat ache as you watch him gradually sink to one knee before you. The gesture is so achingly traditional, so sweetly earnest coming from a man who has lived through a century of change, that tears spring to your eyes.

"Steve Rogers," you whisper, cupping his face with your free hand, "are you proposing to me on election night?"

"We've done everything backwards," Steve continues, a gentle smile playing at his lips. "Had our wedding before our courtship, built a life together before we even knew if we wanted one. But I'm asking you now, marry me again tonight?" 

“We’re a little busy!” you laugh breathlessly. 

He cocks his head to the side. “No, we’re not. Polls are still open on the West Coast, and in Alaska and Hawaii. Unless you’re refusing me…” 

You can hear the tone of sarcasm in the last part, but you’re still quick to exclaim, “No!” practically shouting. “I mean, yes, of course I want to marry you again," you say, your heart soaring. "But when you say tonight, you mean…"

"I mean right now." The smile that breaks across his face is radiant, making your heart flutter. He stands, pulling you against him in one smooth motion, his arms encircling your waist. 

"But how? When?" you ask, your mind racing with logistics even as joy bubbles up inside you. "We can't just—"

"We can," he interrupts gently. "It's all arranged. The Terrace Room is ready for us. Your parents and our closest friends are here. Since technically we’re renewing vows, we don’t need an ordained officiant, but Sam knows a chaplain who works with the VA, and he’s waiting for us downstairs."

You blink in amazement. "You planned all this? During the most important night of the campaign?"

"This is the most important night of our lives," Steve corrects you, his hands warm and steady at your waist. "Not because of the election, but because it's another beginning for us. Our real beginning."

Your eyes search his face, finding nothing but absolute certainty there. This man who has faced down armies and aliens and impossible odds is looking at you like you're his greatest adventure yet. 

"What if you win?" you ask, your practical side making one last attempt at reason. 

"Then we celebrate twice," he says simply. "And if we lose, we still have something beautiful to mark this night." 

The logic of it strikes you suddenly—the perfect symmetry. Your marriage began as a political calculation, a strategy to win an election. Now, on election night itself, you have the chance to transform it into something chosen freely, with full hearts and clear eyes. 

"Yes," you say finally, your voice strong and sure. "Yes!”

Your mind is spinning, overwhelmed by the sheer audacity and romance of his gesture. "But what about—"

"The campaign? Jake has it under control. The results? They'll come in whether we're watching or not. Speeches? It’s still anybody’s game. We have at least an hour." His hands cup your face tenderly. "This is our moment. Everything else can wait a little while."

A laugh bubbles up from your chest, half disbelief, half pure joy. "You're impossible, you know that? Planning a surprise vow renewal ceremony on election night."

"I prefer the term 'strategic,'" he counters with a grin.

You shake your head, marveling at this man who you imagine will continually find ways to surprise you for the rest of your lives together. 

You lean in, wrapping your arms around his neck. "I love you, Steve Rogers." 

"I love you," he echoes, his lips brushing against yours in a tender kiss that promises forever. 

You're about to deepen the kiss when a furious pounding on the door startles you both. The hammering is so intense it seems to rattle the entire door in its frame. 

"Steve!" Bucky's voice booms from the hallway, urgent and breathless. "Open the damn door!"

"Coming!" Steve calls, releasing you reluctantly. 

The romantic bubble has been pierced by whatever emergency has Bucky sounding so frantic. Steve strides quickly to the door, yanking it open to reveal Bucky standing there, chest heaving as if he's just sprinted the length of the corridor. 

"Georgia, Texas, and Ohio," Bucky announces, his eyes bright with something between disbelief and triumph. "All three just came in green. Within five minutes of each other." 

Steve's face goes blank with shock. "What?" 

"Texas?" you whisper, the impossibility of it making your voice falter. "Texas went green?" 

Bucky nods vigorously, his metal hand gripping the doorframe so tightly you can hear it creak. "Forty electoral votes from Texas. Santos practically went door-to-door for us the past five days.”

"How?" Steve breathes. "Texas has only failed to go red with Carter in the seventies, Bartlet with Hoynes as his VP, and Santos in ‘06 and ‘10.”

“Wait,” you interject. “Georgia and Ohio, too? Georgia and Ohio?”

Bucky beams. “Another big swing state in the South and the state that almost never gets it wrong when it comes down to who ultimately wins the presidency.”

“Republicans never win without taking Ohio,” you add, all of you knowing way more about electoral college lore at this point than many political operatives and politicians. 

“And, like I said, forty from Texas. With seventeen from Ohio and sixteen from Georgia. That's seventy-three more in our column. We're at two-nineteen and counting."

Your jaw drops and Steve shakes his head in disbelief. “Did you just say two-nineteen?”

“Oh, you missed New York - but we banked hard that you’d take your home state - and Wisconsin came in after you left, too, giving you twenty-eight and ten respectively.”

Steve leans against the doorframe, his face a mixture of shock and dawning realization. "Two hundred and nineteen electoral votes?"

"Just fifty-one more to go," Bucky confirms, his eyes gleaming. "Jake's losing his mind up there. The networks are scrambling. No one saw Texas coming."

You grab Steve's arm, dizzy with the implications. "We're actually doing this," you whisper. "We're actually winning."

The enormity of it hits you both at once. What started as a long-shot campaign, an idealistic bid to change the nature of American politics, is now on the verge of making history. The independent candidate who many dismissed as a symbolic protest vote is now within striking distance of the presidency.

Bucky watches your faces with a mixture of joy and impatience. "So, are we still doing this thing or what? Because the window of free time has narrowed significantly if you’re still… wait, did you ask her?"

Steve nods, his eyes never leaving yours, a silent question there. 

"Yes," you say firmly, squeezing his hand. "We're absolutely still doing this. I don't care if every state in the union turns green in the next twenty minutes—I'm marrying you again tonight, Steve Rogers." 

Steve's face breaks into that radiant smile that still makes your heart skip, and he turns back to Bucky, who’s grinning almost as much as Steve. "Wedding's still on. Tell everyone to meet us downstairs in fifteen minutes."

Bucky grins, already backing away down the hall. "Better make it ten! And I'll keep Jake from having a coronary when he realizes you're still going through with this."

As he disappears around the corner, Steve closes the door and turns back to you, his expression a mixture of wonder and determination. 

"Two hundred and nineteen electoral votes," you breathe, still processing it. 

Steve laughs, pulling you into his arms and spinning you around once, the movement lifting you slightly off your feet. His joy is infectious, electrifying the air between you. 

"I don't even know what to say," he admits, setting you down gently. "But right now, I care more about being your husband—your real husband—than I do about being president."

His words make your chest swell with emotion. In this moment of potential political triumph, his focus remains on you, on the relationship you've built from such unlikely beginnings.

"Two-seventy might happen tonight," you whisper, "but either way, we're happening right now." You run your hands up his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your palm. 

Steve kisses you then, a kiss filled with promise and certainty. When he pulls away, his eyes are bright with determination. His fingers trail along your jawline, tender and reverent. "I should go change. Sam's got my suit in his room." 

You nod, reluctant to let him go even for a few minutes. Steve takes the wedding band off your finger, promising to give it back to you next time he sees you. "Something borrowed," he murmurs.

"Ten minutes," you remind him, brushing your lips against his one more time before stepping back. 

"Ten minutes," he confirms, his eyes lingering on you as he backs toward the door. 

When he's gone, you turn to face the wedding dress, freeing it from the garment bag and running your fingers over the delicate fabric. It seems like a lifetime ago that you first wore this—a political arrangement between virtual strangers, both of you nervous and uncertain. Now, the thought of wearing it to marry the man you love fills you with a different kind of butterflies entirely. 

There's another knock, and this time it's Sophia and your mom, coming to help you with your wedding dress. 

"Thank God you're here," you say, relief flooding through you as you open the door. "I need to get ready in less than ten minutes." 

Your mother brushes past you, already reaching for the dress. "Well, we can't have you late to your own wedding. Again." Her eyes twinkle with amusement. 

Sophia follows her inside, the back up cosmetics bag she’s carried around ‘just in case’ for you during the campaign in hand, a determined expression on her face. "I still can't believe I had to feign clumsiness as part of a presidential conspiracy," she laughs, setting the bag down on the dresser. "Though I have to admit, spilling that drink on cue was harder than any campaign strategy I've had to execute."

"You were very convincing," you assure her, stepping out of your stained blouse as your mother holds up the wedding dress. 

"I can't believe he planned this," your mother says, shaking her head in wonder. "And I’m so glad we get to really be here for you this time,” she adds. 

You squeeze her hand, not wanting to relive the past. “It’s different for all of us this time.”

The three of you work quickly, and you do make it downstairs in ten minutes. Peterson takes his home state of Michigan and both Dakotahs for twenty-one more points in the red column. 

But that doesn’t matter as your father meets you at the entrance of the Terrace Room, which has been transformed into an ethereal wedding-scape. 

[11:18PM - THE TERRACE ROOM]

You assume there must be a couple getting ready to use the room for their own nuptials the next day because there are far too many chairs set up, and the hotel staff certainly couldn’t have pulled off decorations this elaborate in only a few hours. The crystal chandeliers are striking enough, but with creamy silks and lush cascades of white and blush of flowers hanging from the ceiling, it’s surreal and stunning—just one more unforgettable thing you catalogue in your memory for this incredible night. 

Steve stands at the front of the room, his eyes finding yours immediately as you begin your walk. The small gathering of your closest friends and family—Sam, Bucky, Sophia, Jake, your mother, Pepper, Maria Hill, Peter Parker—all rise, but you barely notice them. Your entire world narrows to Steve's face, to the look of pure adoration that transforms his features as he watches you approach.

The music is soft, some classical piece you don't recognize but that feels perfect for this moment. Your father's arm is steady under your trembling hand, excitement and an eagerness surging through your veins.

"I'm so happy for you," he whispers, his voice rough with feeling. "Not because you might be First Lady, but because you found someone who will look at you like that for the rest of your life."

You squeeze his arm in silent thanks, unable to form words past the lump in your throat. 

When you reach Steve, your father places your hand in his before stepping back. Steve's fingers curl around yours, warm and sure, grounding you amid the surreal beauty of this moment. The chaplain begins speaking, but his words fade into the background as you and Steve stand face to face, hands clasped, hearts open.

“You ready?” you whisper so only he can hear, the reassuring question you’ve asked each other a hundred times at key moments during this campaign - this marriage.

“Let’s do this,” he replies, no question. 

And there’s no question in your heart either. 

Everything this time is different. You can’t take your eyes off each other, you hold onto his hands desperately - earnestly - because you need to like you need to breathe. Steve slides your wedding band back onto your finger, and this time when he does it, your heart feels like it might burst from happiness.

The vows you speak aren't scripted or rehearsed. They flow naturally, honest declarations of the love that grew between you - from reluctant allies to acquaintances to partners to friends to lovers. Steve's voice catches when he promises to choose you every day for the rest of his life, and you don't bother hiding the tears that spill down your cheeks as you pledge yourself to him in return. 

When the chaplain pronounces you husband and wife - again - Steve's kiss is nothing like the polite, chaste brush of lips at your first ceremony. This kiss is deep and passionate, a promise and a claiming all at once. The small group erupts in cheers and applause as you melt against him, your hands finding their way to his shoulders, his arms wrapping securely around your waist.

When you finally break apart, Steve keeps you close, his forehead resting against yours as you both catch your breath.

"Mrs. Rogers," he murmurs, his voice intimate despite the audience.

"Mr. Rogers," you reply with a smile, your heart so full it aches.

Jake clears his throat loudly. "Sorry to break up this moment, but we've got Montana and Colorado coming in green. That's fourteen more electoral votes."

Steve laughs, keeping his arm around your waist as you both turn to face your friends. "Two hundred and thirty-three," he says, shaking his head in wonder. He turns to look at Pepper. “You might not have been crazy about any of this after all.”

She beams. “I’ve been known to have an eye for people and possibilities - and I couldn’t be happier to be right about this.”

Your small wedding reception consists of champagne and a hastily assembled dessert bar courtesy of the Plaza's pastry chef who, upon learning Captain America was renewing his vows on election night, insisted on creating something special. The elegant room buzzes with conversation and laughter, an island of personal joy amid the political storm raging outside these walls. 

Steve pulls you closer against his side, his thumb tracing circles on your hip. "How are you feeling, Mrs. Rogers?" he asks quietly, his breath warm against your ear. 

"Like I'm living in a dream," you admit, tilting your face up to meet his gaze. "What about you? Still nervous about the results?"

"I'm exactly where I need to be," he answers, his eyes never leaving yours. The certainty in his voice makes your heart swell. "Everything else is just..." He trails off, searching for the right word. 

Your moment is interrupted by Sam, who pops another bottle of champagne, the cork flying across the room as everyone laughs.

"To the newlyweds," he announces, refilling glasses for the small gathering. "Again!"

Everyone raises their glasses, but before you can take a sip, Jake’s phone rings. His expression shifts as he listens, eyes widening. He looks up at Steve and steps forward to hand him the phone. 

Steve takes the phone with a questioning look at Jake, who mouths, "Monroe." 

The room falls silent, all eyes on Steve as he puts the phone to his ear. You move closer, your hand finding his as he speaks. 

"Senator Monroe," Steve says, his voice steady despite the surprise evident in his eyes. "Yes, sir." 

You can't hear the other side of the conversation, but you watch the play of emotions across your husband's face—surprise, respect, and finally a humbled gratitude. His hand tightens around yours. 

"Washington and Oregon both?" Steve asks, looking at Jake for confirmation. Jake nods vigorously. 

"That's very generous of you, Senator," Steve continues. "But the math isn't certain yet. We're still shy of two-seventy, and you’ll surely take your home state of California. There's no need to—"

He pauses, listening intently. His eyebrows rise in surprise, and you can see a new emotion settle across his features—respect.

"I appreciate that, Senator, truly," Steve says, his voice softer now. "But with California's fifty-four votes and maybe Nevada still in play, you could potentially—"

He falls silent again, listening. 

"That's... very gracious of you," Steve responds after a moment. "I've always respected your commitment to this country as well, sir." 

The room has gone completely still, everyone holding their breath as they piece together what's happening. Jake's eyes are wide, his fingers frantically tapping on his tablet as he runs calculations. 

"Yes, sir. I understand," Steve continues. "Thank you, Senator Monroe.” He pauses again. “Expect to hear from me soon. I mean it.”

When Steve ends the call, he stands motionless for a moment, his expression one of stunned disbelief. The room around you is utterly silent, everyone waiting with bated breath.

"Monroe just conceded," Steve says finally, his voice carrying across the suddenly silent room. "He just called to tell me he's about to make the announcement publicly."

The room erupts in gasps and exclamations. Jake is crunching numbers on his phone frantically. "With Washington and Oregon bring you twenty more, getting you to two hundred and fifty-three," he announces, voice cracking with excitement. "That's seventeen short of the magic number, but—"

"But even if he takes his home state, Monroe sees he can’t win anymore," Bucky interrupts, still looking stunned. 

Sam steps forward, champagne forgotten in his hand. "What about Peterson?"

"Monroe thinks Peterson won't concede until all the votes are counted," Steve explains, running a hand over his beard. "But he won’t take California, and there aren’t enough big counts left to get him to two-seventy.”

Your heart is pounding so hard you can feel it in your ears. "So what does that mean exactly?"

Jake's face breaks into a wide grin, his eyes shining with emotion. "It means," he says slowly, savoring each word, holding up his phone with an electoral map, "even with California going blue, Monroe only gets to one hundred twenty-one electoral votes. Peterson can't possibly break two hundred at this point. Steve, we're looking at two-seventy plus."

"God," Steve whispers, turning to you with a look of wonder that makes your heart stutter. "This is actually happening."

You grasp his hands, speechless, as the enormity of the moment washes over you. Your husband—your real, chosen husband as of ten minutes ago—is about to become the President of the United States. 

The room erupts again, this time in a cacophony of cheers and sobs. Sam wraps Steve in a bear hug, lifting him slightly off the ground. Bucky stands back, shaking his head in wonder before moving in for his own embrace. Your mother is crying openly now, your father's arm tight around her shoulders as they beam with pride.

But all you can see is Steve's face—the mixture of disbelief, humility, and determination that washes over his features as the reality sinks in. The man who woke up from the ice to find his country changed, who fought to protect it even when it turned against him, who stood up for what he believed in no matter the cost—that man is now going to lead the nation he has always served.

"We need to get you changed back from groom to presidential and then back downstairs," Jake says, already shifting into logistics mode. "They'll be expecting a victory speech soon in Central Park."

Steve nods, but his eyes never leave yours. In this whirlwind of history being made, he reaches for you. "Come with me?" he asks, and though it's phrased as a question, you both know there's only one answer.

"Always," you reply, taking his hand. 

epilogue coming soon

Well, well, well. Looks like someone named Aspen finally brought this story to an end.

There will be an epilogue, yes, and I have some deleted scenes as well as a moment or two for future President and First Lady Rogers that I want to share with you still and maybe a spin-off series, but HERE WE ARE!

AND

I HAVE FINAL RESULTS FOR YOU VISUALLY!

I used the 270towin interactive map, and it doesn't have a green option, but here's how the votes officially shook out in the end.

A candidate only needed 34% in ANY given state in order to claim the majority and get the electoral votes for that state, and the more I thought about it, the more I felt like Steve could win. When I started the story, I thought it was more likely that there'd be no clear winner the night of elections, but with the unrest after the Blip and the Return, with Steve's ability to speak and connect with people, and with the photo scandal being exposed and exploited as a pretty cheap gimmick, I felt like any voters who were slightly on the fringes of still voting red or blue would be willing to say enough is enough and go for an inspiring figure like Steve. Tired of the system, but not voting for an option that wanted to burn the system and smash it to pieces, you know? Steve genuinely wants to do good.

And we get to have a happy ending in fiction. I felt like it was self-indulgent, but then @stargazingfangirl18 helped me NOT to feel guilty giving us a happy political future since we don't get to have one in real life.

↠ Main Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

I do not do tag lists, but FOLLOW @buckets-and-stories and TURN ON NOTIFICATIONS to be updated any time I publish a new work!

[heesdreamer]

Silent Earth

PAIRING ➩ jungkook x reader

WC ➩ 16.7k

SUMMARY ➩ Your plans to pass through college completely unnoticed are derailed by a boy who is awfully good at hiding in the background

AUTHORS NOTE ➩ Just some classic falling in love with a lack of my usual angst so hope it’s still a good read! Some more smutty works coming soon but I know theres a niche audience that’ll enjoy this too so this is for you NOT PROOFREAD

and though the town was cold and wet

There wasn’t much about you to write home about. You had average grades pretty much your entire school career, a small group of friends that you spent a normal amount of time hanging out with, and a completely typical family with boring jobs and plain personalities.

You were pretty, undeniably even for yourself and you were kind but not more than you had to be. You talked when you needed to, never raised your hand in classes and didn’t attend any of the parties or social events you were almost eagerly invited to. There was a slight interest in the way people attempted to persuade you to come but you understood them actually wanting you there versus wanting to be the host of the thing you finally showed up for was a big difference.

Once you reached college, your demeanor seemed to actually have the opposite affect as it did in highschool where you had practically skated by completely invisible. You went from passing by completely unnoticed in the halls to actually be seeked out by peers and people you considered casual friends, something about your lack of care made them feel special when you actually showed some interest.

There had been a handful of times you had caught word of people thinking you were rude and snobbish, harsh whispers painting you like you thought you were better than everyone else and that is why you kept to yourself. It was easier to accept the baseless rumors than to explain that you genuinely felt very little towards lamost every situation. It tired you to react to things, to let the surface level feelings creep any deeper and you’d long embraced that you were just born shut off.

“You just have to come.” Wonyoung hadn’t stopped talking since the moment she stumbled upon you walking to your next lecture but you didn’t really mind as much as your face might have showcased. You actually really liked the bubbly and sweet girl, finding yourself almost fasinacted by the way she was so quick to social interaction and emotion. You’d seen her cry over literal spilled milk and it lit something damn near maternal in you.

You imagined she couldn’t tell considering the impassive look you gave her as you stopped on the gravel path to turn and stare at her, your eyes drifting over her shoulder for a second before going back to her face. You figured it would be easier to get this over with now rather than let her follow you all the way to the across campus building.

“I promise it won’t be like last time, it’ll be an actually lowkey party.” She was speaking quickly like she had a feeling the two of you only had limited time left to converse before you were fully uninterested and you sighed again. “I think you would have lots of fun actually.” It was said like she didn’t even believe it herself and you almost smiled.

“Okay I’ll consider it.” You said gruffly even though you had already made up your mind about not going the second you saw her eager expression when she caught sight of you. For some reason, disappointing Wonyoung made you feel worse than normal so you liked to wait until she was having too much fun to care about your arrival before telling her you weren’t coming with a halfhearted cancelation text. “Now who is that?”

“Where?” She was turning to look behind her where your gaze had fallen beforehand and also now, her face looked equally as surprised as the expression of the boy who was standing there over her shoulder. “Oh Jungkook, have you been there long?”

You watched curioulsy as his lips pursed, his tongue prodding at the piercing there in what you assumed was a nervous habit. He shook his head now and your eyebrows raised at the movement, knowing he was lying and that he had been behind her the entire time she had been following you and rambling. You thought harder about it and realized he might have actually veen talking to her before she caught sight of you and darted off.

If he noticed your suspicious look than he didn’t say anything about it, barely sending you more than a glance as he looked around awkwardly. She didn’t seem disappointed or unnerved to see him, they were obviously familiar and friendly judging by the way her shoulders relaxed and she turned to face him halfway but it definitely didn’t seem like she remembered speaking to him just a few minutes prior.

Your head cocked just enough for his eyes to dart to you while she started to bubbly introduce the two of you, words going in and out of your ears without much sticking behind like they typically did when Wonyoung got particularly talkative. His face was familiar but not so much that you could place it and you wondered how many times you’d crossed paths, almost recongizing the way his eyebrows furrowed.

“Is Jungkook going to the party?” You asked suddenly, name familiar on your tongue and Wonyoung faltered in her rambles to look back at you. Her eyes widened a bit, telling you she hadn’t expected you to bring up the party again in general, let alone show some interest in who was attending. She looked confused at your question before looking behind her, mouth parting as she looked eyes with Jungkook like she had once again forgotten he was there in the span of a few seconds.

“Oh I’m not sure, are you?” Her voice was soft and now both of your eyes were on him. He suddenly looked bothered and you wondered if it was the attention turning to him fully or if it was the question, the answer coming as soon as you got curious.

“It’s my birthday.” His words were flat and quiet, lingering in the air in a way that seemed to suck all of the energy out of it. For once in her life, Wonyoung seemed to have absolutely nothing to say and you watched as her entire body froze and her face paled at his statement.

There was a few seconds of heavy silence before you were bursting out into sudden laughter, a sound so out of character for you that it took her another couple of breaths to realize where it had come from. Her perfect eyebrows furrowed in your direction and Jungkook had a similar expression even though he looked a bit more amused at your outburst.

“I’m sorry, that is just so terrible.” You were trying your best to catch your breath as you forced the words out and Jungkook was straight up smiling now, biting his piericng like he was trying not to as he looked out at the courtyard instead of at you. Wonyoung looked like she was ready to disappear at your blatant words. “Is it your party?”

Jungkook paused for a few seconds, smile gone and looking slightly guilty like he didn’t want to hurt anyones feelings with the answer to that before he was nodding his head hesitantly. Wonyoung looked even more pale at the information, everyone involved knowing that asking him if he was attending a gathering that was quite literally only thrown for him felt like an almost criminal social offense.

You almost felt guilty for the way you stumbled away still laughing but you figured you’d make it up to Wonyoung later considering you had decided to attend the party as soon as you saw that dynamic play out.

Although it is most likely close to the end by the time you arrive and you can see the telltale signs of a party you would not have enjoyed, not at all lowkey like Wonyoung had assured you as she tried to convince you to attend. There is various couples sprawled on random pieces of furniture doing things you feel uncomfortable watching and the frat boys look like they are on the verge of collapse as they take shots in the kitchen.

The music is still blaring but you can tell its been turned down a few notches like one of the neighbors complained or the alcohol is already turning into headaches. Your eyes scan for anyone you might know well enough to approach and you catch a few surprised glances but you keep moving deeper into the house to avoid any small talk.

You can see Wonyoung in the center of the living room and she looks to be in a decent state, much bubblier than you had left her now that her smile has returned and shes chatting animately with a few girls who look like theyd sweated off their mascara hours ago.

You consider approaching her but quickly decide against it when another song begins and she lets out a loud excited screech, her friends grabbing her while they all jump up and down in unison. You almost smile at the display but it slips off when your gaze shifts again and you see the person standing in the opposite corner to you and also observing the party goers in their natural habitat.

The painful shoes you had put on in an attempt to make some effort in your appearance carry you over to him before you can stop yourself and his eyes dont even slightly shift when you press your back against the wall beside him.

“Hi.” You say simply and it takes him a few seconds to react, like he wasn’t considering himself an option of somebody to be spoken to at the moment.

Jungkook’s already round eyes are somehow even wider when they look at you and his eyebrows raise in surprise at your presence. It annoys you a bit that that seems to be the typical reaction when you show up somewhere but it’s hard to be too agitated considering its a result of your own reclusive behavior.

“Hey.” He responds and it comes out in a solid breath.

“Wheres the cake?” You muse and glance around the crowd towards the kitchen although you already figured there was nothing there. He looks almost confused until his mouth parts in realization, most likely forgetting there was even a reason to have cake. “Happy birthday by the way.”

“Thanks.” He responds quickly, sounding almost touched and you hum as a form of ackowelcgmenet.

There is no reason to ask Jungkook why he is pressed against a corner of, what you assume, is his own house on his birthday with no sign of any presents or decorations anywhere. Nobody even glances at him as they pass by and it could be the number of drinks theyve had or more likely than not the fact they had no idea what they were here for or who he was.

It almost made you feel guilty for finding him so familiar because the more you thought about the more you realized there had been a number of times youd hung out in group settings and yet you still asked his name earlier.

You knew his actual friends were much worse offenders but it didn’t feel good to look back in your tagged photos and see him and you in some of the same group pictures together, not even separated by more than a handful of people most the time either.

“Do you want to go somewhere with me?” You ask it so simply it almost slips past him and he takes awhile before he responds, a slow nod of acceptance as he glances over the crowd again like he is admitting defeat when it comes to anybody talking to him.

“It’s my house.” He replies back and you almost laugh a little as the problem presents itself, knowing he wont want to leave it unattended with a bunch of drunk college kids. You brielfy wonder where his family is, not seeing any photos or signs of others frequenting but you stick your hand out towards him instead with your palm facing the ceiling.

He raises an eyebrow at you in confusion. “Your keys.” You say like it was obvious and his eyes flash with understanding, digging into his pocket and dropping them in your hand. They have a cute keychain connected, some sort of bunny and you smile a little before tightening them in your grip and taking a few steps away.

You realize he isn’t following and look back over your shoulder with an expectant look that jumpstarts his brain, pushing off the wall as you walk into the packed crowd. You trust he is behind you as you find one of the more obvious people in the group and tap his shoulder, sighing when he whips around to face you and immediately shouts in excitement.

“Y/N.” Taehyung nearly bellows and you groan as his hands grip your shoulders. Jungkook must be stepping closer behind you because his eyes trail above your head and you can almost feel him there even though he is not quite touching you, just a brush of clothing. “JK man, when did you get here?”

You sigh again at the question proving your previous thoughts right that most, if not all, of the people here had no idea what they were doing. Jungkook doesn’t respond and you dont blame him considering Taehyung is standing in the middle of his living room and questioning his arrival. You jut your hand out towards him, deciding he is sober enough to accept your task.

“Kick everyone out at three.” You say to him firmly and his eyes go back to you, flashing with interest and determination. Taehyung is one of your most tolerated out of the frat boys that seem to follow your friends around and youve had enough interactions with him to know he is responsible and caring, especially when given a specific enough task that his drunken brain can still focus heavily on it. “And lock up on your way out.”

“Yeah for sure, no problem.” He says quickly and the way he stuffs the keys deep into his jean pockets actually makes you halfway believe him.

You know there is still a large chance that Jungkook will either return to a house full of passed out people or his house cleared of its valuables after they all stumbled away and left it unoccupied and open, including his keys in Taehyungs pocket. You dont want to assume so you look behind your shoulder at him to ensure it is okay with him and he stares down at you for a brief moment before nodding.

“Dont throw up in the plant pots.” You say flatly and Taehyung laughs, either at your comment or the way you clap your hand down on his shoulder, its hard to tell.

Jungkook chuckles behind you and you halfway smile at the sound of it, pushing through the rest of the sweaty mass of people until you leave the same way you came only a few minutes ago. It isn’t lost on you that you barely attended the party but it still counts in your book and you find yourself hoping Wonyoung appreciates your effort.

“Do you have a car?” Jungkook questions as you step onto the yard and you slow down your pace enough for hin to walk beside you instead of trailing behind you like a shadow. Hes looking at you as you walk and you dont look back although you can feel it on the side of your face.

“Too good for public transportation?” Your voice is still monotone and he takes a breath like hes about to defend himself and his harmless question before he laughs a little and seemingly shakes his head judging by the way his hair moves in your prepherial vision.

You walk in silence until you reach the nearest bus stops and luckily you know the area enough to know which one to take and where you are going, finding yourself wondering if you had somehow been to his house before. You quickly decide you hadn’t but you aent sure if thats due to your growing guilt or something else.

“Does that happen alot?” YOu find yourself asking and you finally look at him even though its his turn to avoid your gaze.

He looks like he is actually debating your question but the fact he didnt ask you to specify what you were talking about is an answer in itself. You both know you are referring to the way people barely acknowledge him to such an extreme extent that you are starting to think you have officially gone crazy and you are just imagining him.

It makes less sense to you considering Jungkook does not look like someone who would easily disappear in a crowd of people. He is almost jarring to look at, refreshingly attractive in such a natural way that you keep noticing yourself almost uncomfortable and overwhelmed by the sight of him. Not to mention his choice of clothes and body modifications, not exactly a rare sight in the people at your school but still adding to his appeal even more.

He is a bit quiet but still seems personable from what you can tell and everyone who actually notices him seems very fond when they talk to him, excited to see him even if he had been standing there for hours before they paid attention.

“I guess.” He finally says and you had almost forgotten what you asked by the time it fell from his lips.

Your hair blew a bit in your face as the bus approached, not even noticing the headlights lighting up his face and filling the dark neighborhood with a yellow glow. You glanced back at him as you boarded and scanned your bus pass twice for both of you, nodding at him when you saw the subtle way he bowed in thanks.

There was another round of silence that hit and you sighed softly as you relaxed into the seat, scooting over enough that he could sit next to you without bleeding over into your small section and having to press against eachother.

“Where are we going?” He cleared his throat before asking and you smiled a little at the fact he was only just now asking you despite the fact you led him all the way from his house and onto a city bus. “Or are you the type to emjoy surprises?”

“Do I seem like that type?” You retorted, a typical defense for you to respond to a question with another one instead of actually answering.

It was a mixture of trying to avoid giving out any deemed unnecessary information about yourself but also a bit of a challenge. You liked ot know how people perceived you and it was so rare anyone willing offered that information let alone would be honest about it.

He hummed a little like he was trying to hold in a laugh and you found yourself more interested in his lack of answer than whatever it might have been. You had expected him to be shy or bashful but he seemed to have no issue in bantering back to your difficult personality and you once again wondered what exactly everyone else was not seeing.

“I hate to have to ask this but how many times have we met before?” You pushed out as you kept your tone casual and now he actually laughed at you and the awkward look on your face. “Cut it out. Just break it to me, how bad of a person am I?”

“Could be worse.” He shrugged and looked at you from the side of his eye, laughing again when your hand shoved his arm. He dramatically leaned into the aisle like the force of your nudge was going to send him flying and he was done laughing by the time he sat back straight although the smile stayed on his face. “I mean it. We’ve hung out like twice but I keep to myself and you always leave early.”

You knew it was mostly the truth but you caught the lie as soon as he said it, seeing atleast half a dozen instagram post that contained the two of you. Jungkook didn’t seem like the type to forget details no matter how small and you figured he was just trying to spare your feelings like he had attempted to do for Wonyoung earlier.

“You’re a dogshit liar.” You said simply and he shrugged softly before laughing a little again at the way you rolled your eyes.

“Fine, we are bestfriends.” He shifted his body a bit so he was facing you more and you stared at him blankly as he spoke. “I eat brunch with your mom every Sunday, I helped you move into your dorm, and I even was at your birthday this year. I handmade you a cake and held it while you blew the candles out.”

Your mouth parted as he continued to list things, not because they were true but because you had not expected such a big personality to present itself so suddenly. He was, of course, not accurate in any of his information and was just trying to mess with you but you felt so genuinely humored that you were shocked at yourself and the way the laugh erupted from your chest.

“You’re sick.” You sat up and pointed at him, finger landing on his chest and only briefly noting how hard it felt. “I am so going back to ignoring you after we get you a cake.”

“Oh, is that what we are doing?” He ignored your jab and raised his eyebrows at you with a tired smile that made you suddenly wish the bus would eject his seat out of the ceiling so you could stop looking at it. You dramatically cursed yourself for spoiling the surprise even though it wasn’t intended to be one and he laughed again.

You squinted at the sound of it and luckily he was looking away and didn’t have a reason to question the suspicious look on your face. It wasn’t directed towards him necessarily but at the overall feeling of familiarity growing in you as you easily bantered and laughed.

Although he had lied a little bit about how many times you had met in a mutual setting, you knew it didn’t go far beyond that. You were not a terrible person and you may be bad at names when surrounded by people you knew more than casually but you had decided you would have remembered ever speaking to Jungkook, especially if it was anything like this.

So the suspicion was more towards yourself and where this comfortability came from. You were not the type to just simply click with somebody and it almost bothered you but the bus pulling to a stop removed you from that train of thought.

You nudged Jungkook to let him know this is where you were getting off and he was moving into the aisle, backing up a few steps to let you scoot infront of him so you could lead the way. You had left the suburbs behind in favor of your average sized cities, buildings filling the air around you but not quite tall enough to be anything remarkable.

“Where are you from?” You found yourself asking as you began to walk side by side again, eyeing him from the side so you could make sure you didn’t miss a turn and get him lost on his birthday.

“Busan.” He replied with a small hum that almost sounded proud.

Your feet froze and your body jolted to a stop, staring at the back of his head as he kept walking for a step or two before realizing you had abruptly halted. He turned to give you a concerned look that only seemed to grow when he saw the way your eyebrows were furrwored as you glared up at him.

“No you are not.” You said firmly and now his eyes widened at your tone and the way you shook your head.

“Pretty sure I am.” He squinted a little and shoved his hands into his pockets, overwhelmingly boysih and charming in a way that made you want to hightail back onto the bus and just leave him there.

“I’m from Busan.” You retorted and pointed your finger to yourself like there was anybody else you could possibly be referring to. Now it was his turn to look at you suspiciously, gaze narrowing as his head cocked and he stared at you like he was waiting for you to say you were just kidding. “I’m serious, stop looking at me.”

You let your accent slip into your words now, something you had practiced getting rid of for about a year straight before moving for college. Your mother had advised it so you would come off more welcoming but you also figured youd have better luck at blending in if you didnt have any identifiable traits or accents.

His shoulders slightly relaxed at the sound of it coming from you and you briefly wondered if it had been as long for him since he heard it as it had been for you. It wasn’t the most rare occurrence to meet somebody from your hometown considering the sheer size of it but it felt like a bit of a cosmic joke for you to have that in common.

“You practiced that.” He kissed his teeth and turned around to keep walking, your jaw dropping both at the comment and the way he left like he had any idea where he was going.

You jogged briefly to catch up with him and you shoved your shoulder into his side as you joined back into the same stride, a stupid smile on your face that somehow gave you the feeling of secondhand self embarrassment.

“For what reason? To impress you?” Your eyebrow raised and he was smiling similarly to you and now you were hoping he would stop walking again so you could see it a bit better. You quickly got rid of that idea and sighed soft enough that he wouldnt be able to hear unless he was really listening.

“To lure me into a false sense of safety.” His voice was flat and empty in a way that made you want to double over with laughter but you thankfully only produced a small chuckle that seemed casual enough to not give away how funny you found him.

“I’ve already managed to get you this far away in the middle of the night.” You replied simply as you gestured around you at the scenery and he gave you a look that implied you were the strange one here.

The two of you bantered until you got a small corner store and you beelined for the entrance, figuring he would follow behind you through the aisles. You picked up a small single serving slice of cake in a plastic container and presented it to him, waiting for his raised eyebrow to turn into a look of approval that made you nod happily.

You smiled and brought it up to the register, sliding it over wordlessly.

“Happy birthday.” The clerk said in a bored tone and you shook your head as you gestured behind your shoulder at where you assumed Jungkook was lingering with a half humiliated look on his face.

“It’s not my birthday, it’s his.” You corrected and the man nodded in understanding despite the obvious expression showing he didn’t actually care. This was proven by the fact he didn’t say anything after and your eyes narrowed at him. “Wish him a happy birthday.”

You could hear Jungkook breathing out a laugh behind you and you glanced backwards to see him running a hand over his mouth to reveal a lopsided smile.

“Um.. happy birthday man.” The clerk eventually pushed out as he slid the bagged cake slice back over to you and you smiled now, grabbing it quickly while Jungkook thanked him softly in a quiet mumble.

You ventured back onto the city streets and Jungkook was back to walking alongside you instead of lingering behind like he was afraid of taking up too much space, your eyes shifted over to him with furrowered eyebrows and he took a few seconds to notice before his lifted in a silent question.

“He was rude.” You said simply and the half smile returned on his face. It was crooked, boyish, and beyond devastating so you looked away in favor of glaring forward at the sidewalk and holding tighter onto the plastic handels of the bag.

“He was probably tired.” Jungkook replied easier and it frustrated you further because you could tell he didn’t even believe that and yet he was still making excuses for a stranger. This phenomenon surrounding him was starting to really confuse you but you figured it would be a bummer if you brought it up again.

So instead the two of you got back on the bus, sitting in the far back this time and passing the cake slice back and forth while you shared a fork. Jungkook laughed softly with pink tinged cheeks when you quietly sang happy birthday and your head felt floaty when he mumbled a soft thank you when you reached his stop.

You didn’t get off with him this time and he stood at the bus stop so he could wave as it pulled away, your body turning so you could look out the window as long as possible.

-----

The next day there was an assembly on campus and you had fully prepared to ditch it until you saw some of the professors standing near the exit and making it very clear that it was a mandatory event. You had admitted defeat pretty early and circled back around casually like you hadn’t been attempting to flee, eyes scanning the crowd for an empty space.

Your gaze paused when you saw a familiar face, already looking at you with a casual expression that morphed into light surprise when he saw you staring back. Jungkook must be a creature of habit because he looked behind him like he was expecting you to be looking at someone else despite the fact you had spend time together last night.

You rolled your eyes at his obliviousness before making your way over to where he was sitting, two empty chairs on either side of him like he had the plague.

“This seat taken?” Your eyebrow raised as you asked it and you were already sitting before you finished the sentence, more so just teasing him and not actually wondering. He thankfully seemed to find it funny judging by the breathy laugh he gave you. “I should’ve just made a run for it.”

“I’m sure it won’t be that bad.” He said softly and both of you watched as the school mascots started to climb on stage with various banners and props, a sigh leaving you while he nodded his head and kissed his teeth. “I stand corrected.”

You fell silent and he was glancing at you in a way that made it clear he was trying to not be so obvious about it. You halfway wanted to turn and stare back at him just to see his flustered reaction but you kept your gaze forward as you crossed your arm.

It was announced it would be starting soon and your foot began tapping just in time for Wonyoung to walk in and lock eyes with you, her entire face brightening as she rushed over and took the empty seat on the other side of Jungkook.

She leaned her body forward so she could see you better and you sent her a sideways glance before sitting up a bit, realizing you’d slouched down so far you were halfway laying down from your boredom.

“Taehyung said he saw you last night.” She said in a friendly tone, expression excited like she had caught a rare bird species doing something extraordinary. “You should have said hi to me, I would have loved to see you.”

“We were a bit busy.” You answered, voice soft in the way it always got when you talked to her. She looked a little bit confused at the plural pronoun before your arm nudged against the boy beside you.

Her eyes widened in realization and you could see a million questions run through her head from the implication of your words. Jungkook himself looked like he was wondering why you had said it like that and you smiled at him a little bit, purposefully having left it vague and a halfway innuendo.

“Jungkook, I didn’t see you there.” She was chirping out and he actually audibly sighed at that, both of them tensing up at the sound.

It was rare, in your short experience, Jungkook expressed upset when somebody ignored him so you weren’t sure if he was just done hiding it or if the noise had slipped out of him by accdient. You figured it was the latter considering how red he turned and you felt a bit pitiful watching the interaction, clearing your throat and diverting the attention back to you.

“I’ll make sure to say hello to you next time. You looked like you were having fun.” You quickly supplied and this seemed to cheer her up, eyes twinkling again as she looked at you and smiled softly. You figured by now that you both knew your promise of ‘next time’ either didn’t exist entirely or was far in the future so you threw in the second comment to give her atleast something to work with.

Jungkook was watching the two of you talk curiously and you figured he was wondering how such different people came to be friends, especially considering you didn’t seem to treat anyone in the same regard you did with Wonyoung.

You met his gaze for a second and offered a small shrug that made his teeth poke out as he smiled, your eyes immediately snapping awya at the blinding sight of it. You really were beginning to feel like you were losing your mind and you started to question why you even sat by him in the first place.

The assembly started with loud obnoxious music and the sound of one of your professors screaming into a microhpoen to try and get the energy up, the students around you looking just as bored as you felt. You almost were starting to feel a little bad until you felt an elbow pressing into your forearm.

Your gaze turned back to Jungkook who was watching you with a blank expression, hesitating before leaning closer and speaking quietly. You raised an eyebrow, unable to hear anything he had said which made him sigh as he took a second before repeating himself.

“Any plans after this?” He had said in a weird tone and you gave him a look that made him look even more awkward, the amusement evident on your face. He sat back straight in his seat like he was giivng up before you even answered and you laughed softly.

“Are you asking me to hang out with you?” Now it was your turn to lean into his space and speak near his ear and he kept facing forward, only sending you a quick sideway look before he was shrygging his shoulders.

You didn’t move, watching him expectantly until his body was deflating and he fully nodded as he gave you the confirming answer you actually wanted. You sat back with a grin on your face, wanting to laugh more at his awkward way of inviting you to spend some time together but deciding against it consideirng he looked like he was about to run through the crowd to get away from you.

“That sounds nice.” You said softly and the tone clearly surprised him considering the way he turne back to look at you with mild shock, gaze lingering for a few seconds before his eyes narrowed in a halfway glare that made you start to smile.

“Are you always like this?” His voice was flat again and it almost made you laugh for the dozenth time since you sat down. You wondered briefly if Jungkook realized he was this funny and then wondered if he actually was or if you were just truly out of your mind.

“Like what?” Your head cocked like you didn’t know what he meant even though you had a pretty good idea judging by the way he was rolling his eyes.

“Difficult.” The word came out so simply that it actually did pull a laugh out of you now.

“Yes.” Your body tensed for a second as Wonyoung answered instinctively, not even realizing she had been paying attention to your conversation considering she was staring forward with a bored expression as she watched the assembly unfold. Her eyes widened just enough for you to understand she most likely hadn’t meant to answer that, insulting you slightly in her raw honesty.

She took a few seconds before she was shifting in her seat to glance at you and you held eye contact for a breath before your lips curled up and she relaxed at the sight of you being amused at her light diss.

Jungkook didnt say anything else, much to your disappointment since you would have really enjoyed the distraction from the droning assembly. He sat with his arms crossed and his eyes focused on the stage, like he had forgotten you were sitting next to him.

It bugged you that you found yourself annoyed by that and you sighed internally, trying to think of anything other than whatever this was. You were far too old to have a crush on somebody just because they made you laugh and happened to have an incredibly charming boyish smile and demeanor.

Thankfully it didn’t go on for too long and you were standing and filing out with the large crowd in a little over an hour, noting the small wave goodbye Wonyoung gave you before she was disappearing off with some of her actual friends. Your eyes tracked her for a moment as she joined them, greeted with cheerful smiles and bright expressions.

You were only cut off from your observations by an elbow nudging your arm gently and you glanced to the side to find Jungkook, watching you curiously as he joined you in your slow and lazy strides. One of his hands held onto the strap of his backpack that was practically dangling on his side and the other was tucked into the pocket of his jeans.

The trees on campus were browning with hints of autumn as the air grew chillier day by day and you thought you saw him shudder from the cold when you softly nudged him back.

“Whats the plan?” Your eyebrow raised even though he couldnt see it anymore, back to facing forward so he didnt step on the ankles of anyone infront of you. The crowd was still slightly tighter than you were comfortable with but it gave you some time to pry.

“No plan.” His shoulders raised and now it was your turn to stare at him judgementally like he had been doing not too long ago.

There was really no point in telling Jungkook that you were not the type of person who enjoyed not having a plan, not because you thought he wouldnt care but moreso due to the fact you didnt necersailly feel the same bud of anxiety you would under any other circumstance. You actually, dare you say it, felt a bit of excitement at the loosely formed scenario.

You walked silently for a while and it felt comforting after the amount of noise you had to endure for the last hour and a half, although you were suddenly wishing you had brought your coat with you.

He didn’t seem to be feeling the same effects of the fall air wrapping around you and you briefly wondered if he was the type to enjoy the cold weather over summer, immediately picking the thought up and placing it in the part of your mind where a dozen other Jungkook related questions were currently rotting.

“Can I ask you something and you don’t make fun of me for it?” He finally said and the sound of his voice surprised you a bit, your body jolting out of thought as you shifted your head to watch him as you walked slowly. He didn’t wait to hear your answer and you couldn’t tell from the way he was staring ahead at the trees if he had seen the small nod you gave him. “Why are you being so nice to me now?”

You didn’t miss the clear intention of the final word, making it known that your previous encournters might not have been as friendly. You didn’t really have a good answer for that because you were never purposefully rude or standoffish but it was just how you came off to strangers and you couldn’t blame him for possibly being curious about it.

It annoyed you that you couldn’t remember any specific time you had spoken or existed in the same space togehter, hoping his question was in the general sense and not because you had actually done something to upset him.

“As opposed to?” You couldnt help but inquire more, not wanting to brush him off with a teasing remark like you typically would.

He didnt reply for a few more sidewalk squares and your feet went over a patch of grass until you were on a small playground, or atleast a sorry excuse for one. It was just an old climbable tube and a few swings, most of them with rusty chains or torn leather on the seats. He sat in one and you easily followed, kicking your feet lightly and letting them drag through the woodchips.

“I dont know.” He shrugged but you could tell by the tone that he cleary did have an answer and he just didnt want to say it. You didnt reply, staring at the side of his face as you silently gave him another chance to be truthful. “Looking right through me?”

You knew he was aware of the strange phenomenon that seemed to follow him arumd but hearing it so blankly announced made you feel guilty now that you faced the reality you had somehow participated in it. You once again felt ridiculous because it didnt make much sense to you that you wouldn thave paid him any attention before, ontop of the dozen people youd encountered so far that did the same.

Had he always had the same captivating smile or easy nature that made the tension in your shoulders go as quickly as it came? Maybe you were as snobbish as some of the rumors about you had said because it only could have been cruelty that stopped you from sitting down and talking to him like this before.

There really wasn’t much that got to you, tears few and far between and anger not something even on your emotional radar. Jungkook seemed to be making his way onto the small list of things that did, sitting right between the bubbly girl who latched to you freshman year and the homesickness the smell of salt water brought you.

“I dont have an answer that would make any sense to either of us.” Is eventually what you came up with and he paused his soft swinging at that before nodding like it actually was a good response, the sight not doing much to ease the tension in your chest.

“Dont look so guilty.” He finally looked at you now and it was followed by a gentle smile that made your forehead crease, watching him without responding because you had no idea how to retort to that without sounding so stupid. “I am used to it.”

It took you a few seconds to think about what you wanted to say to that but he looked like he felt a bit better so you figured it was a decent time to try and break the tension that was filling the air.

“You sound like a loser.”

The half breath before he responded left your chest feeling tight and you were just starting to prepare an apology when he let out a heavy laugh that almost bounced off of you. You smiled at him as he started to actually swing and it wasnt long before the two of you were competing for who could get the highest, forgetting about the difficult topic.

Jungkook arrived in your life and then he didn’t seem to ever leave it again, something you were apparently more prepared for then you realized because you stopped feeling the urge to run away whenever he smiled at you and you even found yourself looking forward to seeing him.

You rarely went a day without having a lighthearded and teasing conversation and now you had a genuine excuse to avoid Wonyoung’s party invites on the weekends, not even having to lie as you told her you were busy with whatever you and Jungkook had decided to do together. She still seemed bummed but less so considering the look on your face whenever you said it, sheepish and half embarrassed in a way that made her grin happily.

Then would come the reassurance that there was nothing going on between the two fo you and you were just friends hwo had alot in common but you couldnt deny the feeling in your stomach whenever she suggested the idea.

You certainly weren’t dating Jungkook although you imagined this is what it would feel like to somebody who would. They’d probably be just as flushed whenever his eyes lingered for a few seconds past casual and you figured they’d be even less immune to the lowness that creeped in his voice whenever your talks went past sunset.

The confused feeling surrounding his lack of social life only grew and grew tbe more time you spent with him because you simply could not forget Jeon Jungkook, no matter how hard you tried.

Fall was at its full force now and you’d taken your scarfs and thicker jackets out of storage, pumpkin scented candles lining your desk and your nose always a little sniffly from the dropping temperature. You’d imagined somebody like Jungkook would be absolutely radiate in the summer time, tanned skin and crooked smile that still made you feel pretty close to throwing up occasionally, but you were finding yourself pretty fond of him in the autumn.

He had a tendency to layer his hoodie with a flannel in a terribly boyish way and you caught his habit of kicking at fallen leaves in your path on one of your many walks through campus together. His laugh intertwined with the shaking of the trees and you’d begun to think he must always have a cinnamon latte before meeting up on the weekends because you could smell it on him whenever he would sway closer in your direction.

These were all very normal things to think and you most certainly did not get stuck on the idea of what it would be like to date Jungkook.

It actually did bother you and not in the way that you could just brush off as mild annoyance but genuine irritation stuck under your skin and coursing the entire expanse of your body. You had spent a long time attempting to be nobody, avoiding certain situations and demographics of people just to be able to skate by unnoticed by the general public and now you were something to the only actually invisible person on campus.

You weren’t sure what that something was exactly but he called you every free Friday he had and spent half the day texting you updates you never once asked for.

Even now you were sat side by side at another school event although this one was a lot less mandatory, if you didn’t count the way the bubbly girl of your nightmares had looked at you when she invited you. Wonyoung had always been your weak spot but recently she was straight up your god damn kryptonite, a few eyelash filled blinks before you were sighing and agreeing with terms and conditions.

Top of the term list included an invite for Jungkook which is why he was currently staring blankly at the field with a thin straw between his lips. You liked when he made this expression, eyes a little wide and mouth parted enough for you to see a sliver of his large front teeth, telltale signs of somebody who was showing genuine interest towards something incredibly stupid.

Wonyoung had infact warned you it was some weird cheerleading ritual but she seemed so proud of it and you couldn’t deny her once again although you certainly weren’t going to be singing her praises. This social aspect of college life had completely flew under your radar apparently so you were having a hard time processing the way the girls were running around in glittery tutus and chanting together.

“Is she being hazed?” Jungkook asked suddenly and he sounded so genuinely curious that it made you laugh a little bit.

“Shes so sweet I don’t think she’d even realize if she was.” You were both staring at her just in time for her eyes to land on you in the scarce crowd amongst the stands. She waved enthusiastically and jumped onto her tip toes a few times so you’d see her clearly.

You could feel Jungkook’s eyes turn to your side profile but you ignored him for your own sanity, pretending the way your cheeks heated up was just due to the cold nipping at your skin. The woods behind the old field was vast and it was easy to focus on something other than the way he was silently looking at you, a bit harder when you heard him take a starting breath.

“It’s so interesting.” He sounded quieter now and you almost couldn’t stop yourself from turning your head to look at him, eyes a bit wide and too eager in your curiosity for it to be anything other than ridiculous. “You two being friends.”

“Because shes perfect?” Your eyebrow raised as the response came easily like it was something you’d thought about a lot before. You realized that you actually might have although you didn’t realize how bitterly until it was leaving your lips and sounding uncharacteristically envious.

“Not quite.” He replied as he stared back at you with an unchanging expression. He didn’t specify whar he meant and you didn’t ask for clarification, both because you weren’t sure you could handle it and because you wanted to be somebody who could read between his lines.

Wonyoung invited you to eat a local diner with her and her frisnds after so you found yourself pressed against Jungkook in another location today, cursing the tiny booth and the buildings heating system for taking away a few of the layers you’d had for the outside. You could feel every breath he took beside you and you kept begging the universe to not let him similarly feel your racing heart.

“You okay?” His voice was soft next to you and clearly attempting to be discreet for your sake, your head turning to him and your cheeks flushing a bit when you made sturdy eye contact. You werent sure what small sign he had pickedd up on but you felt embarrassed so you nodded your head, watching as his eyebrows furrowered with the knowledge you were lying. “We are gonna head out.”

He was looking at you as he said it but it was cleary meant for the group and your eyes widened a little at the sudden announcement, feeling a little dizzy at the way he grouped you together in his decision. Only Wonyoung made a small pouty noise of upset while the rest seemed to not hear him at all, only reacting when you were sliding out of the booth and he was helping you put your jacket on.

You made eye contact with Wonyoung as he looped your scarf around your neck and it was hard to not audibly laugh at the excitement on her face, pointing at him and forming a heart with her hands that made you roll your eyes. He seemed to catch the expression and his hands faltered for a second on the final loop, only continuing when your gloved hand touched his wrist softly in reassurance.

The silent exchanges between you definitely didnt help your denial that there was anything going on and you knew Wonyoung would be thinking the same thing so you made sure your goodbye to her was nothing but a quick wave as his arm looped in yours and you made your way outside onto the street. It was dark now and you started to sniff almost as soon as you made it down the street, nose turning pink and cold limbs shuffling to match his long strides.

“Thanks.” You breathed once it felt like it wouldnt be awkward but it still came out a little weak and strangled. Your arm tightened where it was thrown around the bend of his elbow and it accidentally tugged him a bit closer to your side even though he didnt seem to mind considering he didnt add the distance back when he straightened up.

“Gonna tell me whats wrong now?” He said softly, always so softly whenever he spoke to you, and you didnt even feel guilty for shaking your head in denial. You had discovered that you didnt like keeping things from Jungkook but there was just no way you could ever even attempt to explain to him what your problem was.

You didnt even think you really knew considering nothing had happened to ruin your mood and you still felt just as floaty and dazed as you always were with him lately. Maybe the confusion was bugging you or the doubt in the back of your mind although you were almost certain you werent going crazy.

More than certain considering the way he was now stopping and unlooping your arms, waiting for you to turn back in confusion before he was grabbing the long side of your dangling scarf and pulling you closer to him. Your eyes widened when the tips of your boots touched his shoes and you stared up at him in silent question, watching as he studied your face and took a long breath.

Jungkook was not shy when it came to touching you and another people he seemed casual with, big on back hugs and high fiving a little more than what the situation actually called for but you still felt a rush go through you as you continued to delude yourself that this was special.

“You don’t have to tell me.” He was suddenly saying and it took you a few seconds to even remember what you had been talking about. He looked serious but as gentle as always, his slightly pink nose and furrowred eyebrows making you feel the urge to go lock yourself inside your dorm room for the rest of time. “But I want to make sure you are okay.”

“I’m okay.” You breathed easily and you meant it when you said it. You didnt realize he was still holding your scarf until he rubbed it between his thumb and pointer finger, keeping a light grip on you that made your head spin.

Your hand landed on his wrist and you could almost feel the pulse through your thin gloves, focusing on it when his own free hand came up to push some of your wind swept hair behind your ear. You weren’t a hopeless romantic but you also weren’t stupid and now you were almost positive that this was not a very friendly thing to do with someone.

Then he was clearing his throat and offering you his arm again, cutting the tense moment off and barely hesitating before starting back into mindless banter as you walked back to campus.

You decided a few nights later that you needed to put an end to whatever this weird thing was. No more going to social events just for a reason to be seen with him and no late night walks that always felt like you were forgetting something important when you parted ways. You didnt necessarily full on avoid Jungkook but you left more and more of his text unanswered and you stopped neglecting your studies in favor of getting a sweet treat with him.

He clearly noticed but didnt outright mention it for the first two weeks and you wondered if that was because he was just too nice to confront you or if because he was feeling just as weird. You put that thought in the back of your mind with the rest of your Jungkook related inquires.

Then it was the first week of December and there was an almost panicked knocking on your door, your eyes widening and waiting in silence to see if any of your roomates were home and planning to answer. You jumped when another round of bangs echoed through the room and now you got up and hesitantly opened the door, sighing in relief when you saw it was just Jungkook and then tensing all over again when you saw the look on his face.

He was standing there with melting snowflakes in his hair and his eyebrows were furrowred, more pained than angry. You could see his chest rising and falling beneath his black denim jakcet and you had half the urge to ask him if he had ran there, instead sielntly stepping aside so he could come in and get warm.

“Why are you ignoring me?” He started as soon as the door clicked closed and you felt thrown off by how bluntly he had broguht it up. You thought about denying it but you knew it was useless so you sighed and let your shoulders deflate, his eyes darkening at that with the realization he had been correct. “What did I do wrong?”

You took a few steps closer and your hands extended in the air like you were going to reach for him, immediately deciding against it and letting them hover for a second or two before lowering them back to your side.

“Nothing Jungkook, you did absolutely nothing wrong.” You said in one single breath and it was honest, you genuinely had no reason to be upset with him and that wasntg even how you would label the strange way you felt.

“Then what?” He snapped and his anger surprised you but you felt like it was justified considering how awful you mustve made him feel. Youd never seen him show any real negative emotion and it made it so much worse that you had caused it. “I thought we were… I thought we were friends and then you just go back to acting like I dont exist.”

You had the feeling his anger wasnt fully directed at you but the way everyone around him seemed to just forget about him the second he was out of eye sight, or worse and theyd ignore him to his face. You had barely gotten over the guilt of being one of those people accidentally in the past and now it hit you that you had done it intentionally and you suddenly felt wobbly on your feet.

“I dont know.” You whispered, voice wavering and his shoulders dropped at the sight of it. Jumgkook was so unstoppably kind that he was stepping forward to hold your face gently like you were the one hwo had been hurt and not him. “I’m sorry, I don’t know whats wrong with me.”

“That’s fine.” He said lowly and your eyes flickered to lock with his, searching for any sign of that lingering anger that seemed to just vanish as quickly as it came. “But lets figure it out together, okay?”

You found yourself nodding immediately and you let out a relaxed breath when he pulled you into his sturdy chest, pushing your face into the warmth and feeling incredibly stupid for ever thinking the hurt this brought wasnt worth it. Your confused mind and longing heart was a fine price to pay if it meant you got to have him in any way and you quickly erased the idea of ignoring him.

It shocked you how easily things went back to normal, the next day finding yourself sitting next to him in the cafeteria and laughing at something he was showing you on his phone. Neither of you noticed Wonyoung sliding into a seat on the other side of the table until she smacked her books down.

“Jeon Jungkook.” She said sharply and you both raised an eyebrow, his phone slowly lowering between where your heads had been nearly touching. “Care to explain?”

She was pushing a piece of paper over to your side and he seemed to already know what it was, staying still and shrugging at her while you sat up and pulled it towards you. Your eyes scanned it and your expression grew more confused until you were looking at him and his loose smile.

“What the hell?” Your voice was equally as sharp as hers now and he laughed softly, only stopping when your hand pushed his shoulder. “You play ice hockey?”

“Hes the captain.” Wonyoung accused eagerly and you audibly gasped, eyes widening in upset as you stared at him for an explanation.

“Co captain.” He corrected casually and he was answered with another hit against his shoulder while Wonyoung scoffed. “Okay relax, I just didn’t think it was a big deal.”

You both scolded him at the same time, voices overlapping as you yelled at him for not telling you the extremely relevant information. Hockey season was starting in only two days and the school had been making a huge deal out of the first game so to find out Jungkook was not only playing but performing an important role felt jarring.

“We are your friends. You should have told us.” Wonyoung exclaimed and it seemed to surprise all of you at the same time that she included herself while referring to his friendships. Jungkook gave her a soft smile and she looked bashful when you and him exchanged knowing glances before clearing her throat and going back to scolding him to stop the touching moment.

Your pout stayed the entire conversation, unwavering when Wonyoung eventually had to leave for a lecture and still apparent on your face as you walked back through the now snowy campus. Jungkook was right beside you as always and you could feel him watching the side of your face and the way your lips jutted out in upset, not at all surprised when his hands were grabbing your elbow to stop you from walking. He turned you to face him and you kept the expression even when he smiled down at you.

“You’re really upset with me?” His voice was smooth and airy and you naturally took a step closer to him. Both of you were completely bundled up due to the bitter air and his bangs were barely poking out from under his beanie, your hands coming up to push them inside the hat just for an excuse to touch him.

“I just don’t get why you didn’t tell me.” You said softly and he stared at you so intensely you somehow managed to feel warm despite the snow surrounding you. “You must be practicing hard for the game and I had no idea.”

“I’m sorry. I really didn’t think it was anything important, it’s just a hobby.” He sounded so apologecitc that you just wanted to believe him but you shook your head and sent a lighthearfed glare.

“College ice hockey is just your hobby?” Your tone was accusatory and he stared at you for a few seconds before he was nodding his head in agreement, only barely dodging your hand as it went to shove at his shoulder.

Jungkook apologized by buying you a drink from your favorite coffee shop on the way back to your dorm and also formally inviting you to his first game.

You felt nervous as you entered the cold rink and you were glad you had Wonyoung with you because you had zero idea of what to expect. You’d never so much as seen a hockey game although it was a bit of a big deal around your small town, almost more important than your schools football team.

Wonyoung had insisted you wear the school colors and you felt a bit ridiculous as you shuffled in to find your seat, the bench beneath you cold and sending a shiver down your spine as you adjusted your earmuffs. The stands were less packed than you’d expected but quite a lot of people had turned up for the event and you found yourself sitting up in your seat and trying to search for Jungkook.

You wondered if he was feeling as nervous as you were but you figured he probably was as calm and collected as usual. There was light knowledge of the sport floating around in your head and you knew enough to know how intense it could get, finding it hard to imagine your sweet mellow friend being able to keep up with the rowdy hockey boys.

Apparently you didn’t know Jungkook as well as you thought.

Sure, he didn’t come out hooting and hollering like the rest of the team as they skated onto the ice but his approach was almost worse. He wasn’t wearing his helmet yet and his eyes were sharp and cold as they focused on the other team, skating gracefully and looking completely unintimidated or bothered.

You knew Jungkook was fit, something you’d noticed about a month ago when his shirt lifted as he removed his hoodie and hadn’t been able to stop thinking about since, but he looked particularly imposing in his gear. Your heart fluttered when he got steady in place before finally letting his intense gaze scan the crowd.

They landed on you and your body was stiff, completely straight and locked up when he sent you a smirk before he was looking away.

“What the fuck?” Wonyoung breathed next to you and you made a strangled noise of agreement as you both stared at him on the ice, pushing his messy bangs out of his face before sliding his helmet on. “Is Jungkook hot?”

You knew better than to answer the question, both out loud and inside your head but your stomach tugged almost painfully and suddenly you were really regretting coming.

Jungkook was fast and large in stature on his skates, moving swiftly like he was light on his feet and then stiffening up and ramming into people as if his weight had doubled. It was beyond fascinating to watch and you found a sudden interest in the sport blossoming, nothing to do with the way your friend looked whenever he took a break and removed his helmet for some water.

If you thought you were screwed before then it was really over now, his bangs sweaty and hanging in his face as he panted roughly. He looked like an entire different person and your jaw quite literally dropped as you stared at him.

The game took a pause and he was skating over to you and Wonyoungs side of the stands, skidding to a stop and giving you a boyish smile that did very little to help you forget the intensity of his eyes.

“These guys are tough.” He was saying casually like he hadn’t just shifted your entire perception of him and you and Wonyoung didn’t respond, staring at him with shock. “What?”

“Dude.” She breathed and any other time you’d laugh at how he managed to bring out a less feminine side of her, your eyes shifting to her and the way she leaned forward to really drive home her next statement. “You’re like sexy.”

His eyebrows furrowed as he laughed and scrunched up his nose, looking down at his feet and letting his bangs hang for a second. He was squinting and smiling when he looked back up.

“Really?” It was cute, far too cute sounding for the sight in front of you and you couldnt stop the way you audibly sighed. His gaze immediately shot to you and his posture stiffened just a little. “You think so?”

“I..” You mouth opened and closed a few times as he waited for your response and you were quite literally saved by the bell or rather the coaches whistle demanding his attention.

He watched for a few more seconds like he was hoping you’d respond but your lips pursed and he was pushing off the wall to skate back to the center of the rink. You groaned and buried your face in your hands with incited a laugh from Wonyoung.

You were starting to get used to the sight of him and your heart stopped pounding every time he glanced in your direction until the end of the game approached. Tensions were high and there had been a handful of screaming matches throughout the entire thing, Jungkook and who you assumed to be the captain being the ones to step between whoever was arguing.

They’d push them apart, pat their teammates encouragingly on the shoulders and get right back to the game.

You weren’t sure what changed or what was said that made this round of shit talk different but Jungkook had been sending you a soft wave, his fifth in this half of the game alone, when suddenly his head was snapping to the side towards the other team. Your eyebrows furrowed, wondering if something had happened that you had missed before he was pushing off on his skates and getting into the space of one of the other players.

This seemed to activate your schools team in a worse way than before, all of them rushing over just as Jungkook was throwing off his gloves and helmet. It hit the ice with a loud echo and you were sure it had chipped the plastic.

You and Wonyoung sat up in your seats as the crowd gasped and you felt her gripping your arm tightly. It felt like it suddenly got silent in the entire building as they inaudibly yelled and then the other team’s player shoved Jungkook by his chest, sending him stumbling back hard.

You could see his shoulders tense, stuck on the way his jaw clenched and his hands curled into a tight fist. You were so focused on the little details that you missed the way his entire body pulled back until you heard the sickening sound of the impact against the boys jaw.

He dropped to the ground and then it was bodies on bodies, Jungkook getting lost somewhere in the bottom of the dog pile of flying punches and gloves being thrown off. You’d never seen somebody actually be punched like that in real life and your stomach was turning as you stood to your feet in a panic.

You were halfway considering running down there when the coaches were interfering and then it was over, Jungkook spitting out something that looked a lot like blood as he skated over to the penalty box without even being told.

From what you could gather, it was rare for the co captain to be involved in any of the regular scuffles and some of the most dedicated fans seemed at a loss as he sat on the bench and roughly pulled his gear off. The time on the clock was too short for him to get to play again this game but luckily you’d gotten far enough that you figured they’d win without him.

“Oh my god.” Wonyoung was finally exclaiming after things had slightly settled down and you couldn’t even look at her. “That was scary. I’ve never seen him like that.”

You groaned like you had earlier and collapsed in on yourself so your chest was resting on your thighs as you folded, earmuffs falling forward at the incline. You could feel her staring at you and you hesitantly turned your face to look at her, cheeks pink and giving away exactly what you’re thinking.

“You found that hot.” She accused immediately, finger pointing towards you and laughing in disbelief when you groaned again.

The game ended and it seemed your problems were only just now beginning considering you now had to actually face Jungkook like he hadn’t just ruined your entire life in the span of two hours. He looked like he was in a much better mood when he saw you and your eyes zeroed in on his split lip.

“Did you have fun?” He said softly and you felt like you were getting whiplash. You nodded your head after you felt an elbow nudging you and thankfully Wonyoung was willing to fill the silence as you all walked to your car, chatting about the game and how cool it had been to see him in action.

Having Jungkook in your passenger seat wasn’t an unusual occurrence but having him sweaty and glowing from the victory definitely got added to your list of things you’d willingly eject out of a car for. You knew he had noticed how quiet you’d gotten, he always did but he didn’t mention it as he talked with Wonyoung.

Then you were dropping her off and it took everything in you to not bang your head against the steering wheel right in front of him. Now the weird unusual silence was glaringly obvious and you could literally feel his anticipation as he waited for you to say something although it never came.

He made no move to get out when you arrived at his house, driveway empty like it always was when you would drop him off or pick him up. There was a handful of times you wanted to ask him about his family, about the lack of photos on his walls and his indefinitely empty refrigerator and you figured you were past the point of closeness where it would be okay but you never could find the right moment.

“You’re being weird.” He said softly, both of you staring ahead at the dark road.

“No I’m not.” You replied immediately and it sounded like a complete lie considering you both knew it absolutely was. He laughed a little at your answer and you turned your head to glare at him, upset he found your unknown inner turmoil humorous.

“You can’t just say you’re not.” He pointed out as he looked back at you, so boyish and impossibly charming which translates to you as insufferable and the current bane of your existence. “It doesn’t work like that.”

“It does.” You countered again and he didn’t laugh again but he did keep that soul crushing smile, eyes creasing a little.

You sighed deeply, fingers tightening around the wheel a little and now his smile was sliding off his face at the sight of you genuinely seeming upset. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat and you gave him a heavy look, feeling guilty for making him be concerned and so so handsomely clueless.

Your hand was outstretching across the middle console to touch his jaw and you dared to let your thumb run over the cut in his bottom lip. It was slightly swollen and his eyebrows furrowed in a pained wince when you smoothed over it.

They didn’t go back to normal and the sight of him with that expression as he practically nuzzled into your touch, body leaning over his seat and looked larger than you remember, almost actually killed you. You had to take the longest breath of your life to prepare for taking your hand away from his jaw and his mouth and for a second it looked like he was following after you.

“Did I scare you?” He asked softly and you had never heard him sound like that before. It took you a minute to think about what he was talking about, his tongue flickering over the red cut reminding you.

“No.” You breathed and it was honest but you knew it made room for more questions. What about the fight had you so torn up and out of character if it hadn’t unnerved you? You were sure he knew the answer but you were grateful he didn’t ask.

Instead he turned and wished you a goodnight, thanking you for coming to his game and promising he would tell you when the next one was. You watched as he walked inside, the person in front of him holding the door for a girl and releasing it as Jungkook approached like he hadn’t even registered another person approaching.

You frowned the entire way home and tried to convince yourself you didn’t care when you screamed into your pillow.

——

Ignoring Jungkook clearly wasn’t the answer but lately being around him was torture and you were beginning to think you would have to move schools (potentially countries) for a semester to get over this. Then you’d see him walk into a room and quickly realize that no amount of time was going to fix whatever was wrong with you.

You were almost a little devastated by the sudden interruption, doing anything you could to reverse the effects he had. You’d give him every opportunity to hurt your feelings somehow, presenting multiple set up scenarios just to try and find a time or place where you didn’t fully like his actions or point of view. It was a bit ridiculous of you but you were getting desperate and even more so when he continuously failed to not impress you.

The winter hit you hard because suddenly he was all pink nosed and giving out heart felt gifts to you leading up to the holidays. You’d find a bag of your favorite snacks dangling from your dorm doorknob or he would appear at lunch with two matching scarves, placing one over your neck and smiling as he did his own like he wasn’t killing you.

Wonyoung was amused by all this and she seemed a bit honored to become the person you went to every time you had a Jungkook related crisis, which was basically everyday at this point.

Hockey season continued full force and you’d sit in the stands each game, most times by yourself but occasionally with Wonyoung. It was even more frequent recently considering she had taken interest in the captain of the team but you didn’t necessarily mind being alone, almost preferring it over the teasing your red cheeks got you.

Jungkook would come up to you eagerly after each game and search your face for something, always looking so disappointed when he apparently didn’t find whatever it was he wanted.

“You seemed so impressed the first time.” He had explained one of the nights you were walking to your car after a game. You had demanded him to stop looking at you like that and just ask whatever he was thinking. “I guess it wore off.”

“She liked it when you punched that guy.” Wonyoung said simply, mid bite of concession stand popcorn. Her hand froze in the air as she seemed to realize what she said and your eyes were full of heat as you stared at her.

Jungkook didn’t respond for a half a second that felt like an eternity and then he was finally opening his mouth, dread hitting you square in the chest, when a teammate from across the parking lot was calling out his jersey number. There was a blur of high fives and hands patting backs as they briefly recapped the final goal but then he was right back to you and your embarrassing fact Wonyoung had presented.

You waited for him to bring it up, to tease you about it and further ruin your life but instead he softly chuckled and said how the teammate had gotten his name wrong and it was forgotten.

Atleast you had assumed so.

The next game was a short five days after and you were back in the stands, without Wonyoung this time and feeling a bit colder as you shifted on the bench seat. Jungkook looked excited as always to see you and he was routinely skating over to your side for a quick chat or just to send you a smile from under his helmet.

It was going smoothly and you were barely paying attention when they situated themselves in the middle again, either side of the puck and tensions high as the game started to come close to the end. Jungkook paused, spared a glance at the score board that showed them extremely in the lead, and then you could see the posture of the other team’s player change.

His shoulders squared and he lost his starting position, standing to his full height and skating closer to Jungkook. He passed the line and your home team seemed on high alert at the sight of it, all of them skating closer while the captain sent the referees nervous glances. You felt confused and panicked before realization hit you hard.

Had Jungkook said something to provoke him on purpose?

The boy was the first to remove his gloves but Jungkook followed immediately after and this fight seemed a lot more evenly matched than the first one. This time nobody jumped in and egged them on and there was sharp punches thrown back and forth until the referees were skidding across the ice and sending them both to the penalty box.

You couldn’t see Jungkook’s expression but you knew exactly what yours looked like.

It was a silent car ride other than Jungkook softly requesting to go back to your dorm instead, not too unusual but particularly devastating tonight. You ended up both sitting on your tiny twin mattress, your body turned towards his as you pushed a bag of frozen strawberries against his eye and ignored his groans of pain.

“You’re an idiot.” You breathed out.

“I didn’t know he was on the wrestling team.” He replied swiftly and you sent him a sharp glare that made the amusement in his eyes fade away. “Players fight all the time.”

“Not you though.” You were practically whispering now and his shoulders slumped at your statement, knowing you were right. “Your coach said these were your only two fights ever. He’s worried about you.”

He wrapped his hand around your wrist and lowered it until the bag of fruit was resting on the bed and you were letting your fingers release it. Your eyes were locked on him as he sighed and avoided looking at you for a few seconds.

“I’m fine.” He finally replied and you wanted to protest before he continued. “God forbid a guy tries to impress a pretty girl.”

Your eyebrows furrowed automatically and he watched you closely as he studied your reaction to his sudden comment.

“Wonyoung wasn’t even there. What are you….” You cut yourself off before you could even complete the thought, both connecting the dots yourself and because of the confused expression he was throwing at you as soon as your friend’s name left your mouth.

Oh. Jungkook was talking about you.

You felt like the small room was suddenly forty times tighter and you almost wanted to shift away so you could possibly manage to catch your breath but the thought of Jungkook getting the wrong idea made you sick.

You were sure he must know. He had to know right? Jungkook was a smart guy and despite the weird phenomenon that caused people to almost forget to register him as a person, he was sociable and charming when he spoke. He had managed to befriend you and your antisocial brain within only a few conversations and he had never mentioned a girlfriend but you figured nobody who looked like that was inexperienced.

So he absolutely had to know that your flushed cheeks and dazed expression that only showed up when you looked at him had to mean something.

“Oh.” You finally breathed and you assumed you looked a little pained at how jarring it sounded.

“Yeah.” He smiled in return, as casual and warm as he always was like he hadn’t just placed something so heavy on the weight of your already taut friendship. “Oh.”

You took a few steady breaths as he just stared at you as he waited for you to say something else, his eyes fond and patient like he had all the time in the world for you and your awkwardness. Then your hand was coming up to touch his bruised eye again but this time you didn’t have the frozen fruit in your hold, fingers lightly grazing the purple skin.

“You don’t have to get into a fight to impress me.” You nearly whispered and it was as much of a confession as you could give him.

Jungkook smiled and then the hard part was over. He asked to spend the night and that still wasn’t too unusual but climbing under the sane blankets was and you were halfway glad you had such a pathetically sized bed because he had no choice but to press against you in some way. Of course he is Jungkook so he took the opportunity to wrap an arm around you completely and tug you back against his chest.

Being in this weird sort of platonic limbo with Jungkook was better than nothing at all and certainly felt better than having absolutely no idea he even thought of you in any special way let alone to the point he would walk around with a black eye for two weeks in an attempt to wow you.

It still didn’t make it any easier to be around him whenever he laughed and you had a hard time looking at him head on but atleast he was around.

Winter continued on at full force and you didn’t miss a single one of Jungkook’s games, especially after he gave you his practice jersey to wear on the stands. You had more luck ignoring Wonyoungs knowing glances if it meant he would keep offering you the distraction of smiling at you like that from the ice.

There was a dance at the end of winter, a small mock homecoming-esque event that the student committee had thrown together. It had a low budget and even lower attendance but the concept was cute enough to garner some attention.

You had never been the dancing type which you were sure wasn’t too big of a surprise to anyone who knew you and you’d only attended your prom after your mom begged you for weeks so you didn’t plan to go. Apparently your clear disinterest in it didn’t extend to any after party extending from the event or maybe it was just the soft way Wonyoung invited you that made you agree.

Now you were only halfway regretting it, sitting on the top of a lookout hill and nursing a slightly warm drink that was making the barrel of your throat feel sore. It helped that a familiar frame was shoulder to shoulder with you, his warmth rivaling the one of the fire Wonyoung and her friends were laughing around.

You and Jungkook were further back from the group although you were certain nobody had noticed anyways. One guy had stumbled over about half an hour ago and asked Jungkook in a slurred voice if he had the time, as formal as he could manage with the frat accent mixed between.

He had given it to him and then softly whispered to you that they actually had four classes together, corner of his lips turning up when he heard you laughing.

You’d barely had half a can but Jungkook was surprisingly getting slightly past the point of tipsy, becoming a lot more talkative than you’d ever heard him and going on tangents that made your cheeks feel warm with affection. It was a little too cold away from the fire but it was worth it if you got to hear him speak so openly like this.

“Maybe we should’ve gone to the dance.” He breathed out after a rare moment of silence and you turned to look at the side of his face. The small city and its handful of tall buildings were too far away for it to provide any light but you thought you could see a light twinkle in the reflection of his eyes.

“You think so?” Your voice came out softer than you’d meant it to and it sounded far past friendly.

His large shoulders rose and fell in a loose shrug as he chewed on the inside of his cheek. His nose was red from the cold and his hair was almost falling in front of his eyes, wind swept and messy in a stupidly charming way.

“Might’ve been nice.” He rasped and you watched him intently, feeling like you’d be a fool to miss even a single second of whatever this show of vulnerability was. You wondered if he was drunker than you thought or if he was just tired of playing a constant guessing game with your ever changing dynamic. “If we went together I mean.”

“Together like as a date?” You don’t know why you said it and you felt stupid immediately but his sideways grin smoothed over the nasty emotion as soon as it came.

“Yup.” He popped the P and nodded his head firmly like he had it all planned out for his past self. You let yourself actually imagine it for a second, the two of you back in Busan and him coming to your front door with a nervous gulp and a slightly too large suit. “Corsage and everything.”

“Oh wow.” You laughed again at the image and the smile seemed permanent on his face now at the small sound. “I’m sure we’d be a big hit. You might even be prom king.”

You were attempting to poke fun at him and his lack of popularity but he sent you a sheepish sideways glance that made your mouth part open with shock. He looked away and chuckled under his breath at your expression.

“No way.” You blurted and you couldn’t even stop to be embarrassed. The idea that Jungkook back in Busan was so different that he had actually been the prom king was making your head spin a little bit, trying to stop yourself from wondering if you even knew him at all.

“Way.” He countered and nodded slowly like he was also confused how he had gotten to this point of invisibility. You let yourself continue to paint the mental picture of what teenage Jeon Jungkook had been like, who he was when he back home with his friends and before he was coming home to a seemingly empty house and being ignored by his peers.

You could see him with a crown on his head and a younger version of the boyish smile you couldn’t stop thinking about.

“I would’ve liked that.” You said softly, settling for a response that didn’t tear your heart in half. He was finally looking at you fully and now his smile was smaller but still there, directed at you and making your head spin until you felt sick. Snow collected on his bangs and you only then realized the weather was changing, groans from near the fire making it obvious you weren’t the only one who noticed.

Your feet were steady as the others stumbled down the lookout hill and you weren’t sure how you felt about Jungkook being one of the wobbly ones.

Maybe a bit better when his soft hand was grabbing yours to keep him standing upright and then a whole lot worse when you dropping him off at home and watching his expression change when he noticed the porch light on. You’d brought him back dozens of times and this was the first time you were seeing any sign of life, wondering for a second if he was going to turn and ask to come back with you.

Instead he sighed and got out, wishing you a goodnight that sounded a lot more sober.

You didn’t see Jungkook for two days after that which wasn’t anything concerning especially given the amount of snow that had fallen the last few nights. It still didn’t soothe the stomachache you got as soon as you opened your door on the third day to the sight of his face a lot more bruised than you had left it.

You knew the black eye was far too fresh to be from his hockey fight and you’d stared at the healing split lip enough to know it was opened again sometime recently. You’d sighed to stop yourself from gasping and taken his hand to tug him inside and out of the cold.

Jungkook sat on your twin bed as you tended to him, similar to the other night except now you were standing between his legs with his hands clenched into fist on his knees.

Now would be the perfect time to get all of your questions out, the ask him the dozen things you had been wondering since the party at his house and figure out whatever way you could help him.

What came out instead was, “Come home with me for the holidays?”

So Jungkook spent the next week and a half at your house in Busan with you and your mother and her half a dozen cats. He laughed as she told rambling stories that made little sense and he ate her mediocre food like it was the best meal he had ever had.

Then he would climb into your childhood bed with you that was somehow even smaller than the one you had in your college apartment, tucked under your old princess sheets with his arm thrown around you and his face buried in your hair.

Somewhere around the second to last day you realized you might be dating Jeon Jungkook.

He had met a few of your extended family members and greeted the men with firm handshakes and a smile that was a lot less boyish, played with your little cousins for hours after the rest of the adults gave up and came outside with you in the cold whenever you felt like it was becoming too much to hear your mothers anxious speeches.

The morning before New Years, he had somehow worked it out with one of your uncles to borrow his truck. It drove better in the snow then your old car and Jungkook refused to tell you where you were going the entire time, bringing back your age old comment at his birthday about being the type to enjoy surprises.

It wasn’t much of a surprise considering you recognized the drive halfway through but it did ignite something in you to realize it was just as familiar for him. The beach was snowed over and silent as your boots crunched over the frozen sand and you wondered if you and Jungkook had ever been here at the same time before now.

You were a few steps apart but his hand was extending out towards yours and you accepted it willingly, wishing you could remove your glove to feel his skin without making it too obvious.

“Are you having fun?” He asked softly and it wasn’t the first time he had asked it during your break but he sounded more sincere now, almost nervous like he was worried you would change your mind at some point.

“I feel really happy.” You whispered back and the honesty shocked both of you, his hand squeezing yours on instinct as he tugged you closer. Your feet crossed in the sand and it was only a few breaths before you were standing much closer to him then you had before, chests practically flushed together as his gloved hands went behind your back to hold you still.

He was staring down at you with a gentle smile and eyes full of… something heavier than just fondness and for the dozenth time you had to stop and wonder if this was something more than you realized.

His hand cupping your cheek did the opposite of offering you clarity and you let out a shaky breath, one you could see considering how cold it was standing by the water. The waves were louder than your pounding heartbeat so thankfully he wasn’t able to hear it but you figured it didn’t matter considering he had to have already known.

There was no possible way he did not know. He had to see it on your face, in the way you stood and everything about the way you moved around him.

“Me too.” He whispered back and you’d almost forgotten what you had said in the first place considering how suspended in time this conversation felt. “I’m glad you invited me here. I can’t thank you enough for all this.”

“You’d never have to thank me.” Your eyebrows furrowed at the idea of him doing so, not able to comprehend a world where you would ever not want him around. You didn’t go out of your way to bring him home with you, it had just been the only scenario that made any sense to you at all. Of course he would meet your family and of course you’d eat Christmas dinner together with shy glances sent across the table.

Of course you would go back to school and spend your weekends in your tiny bedroom, forgetting to focus in class in favor of chatting quietly, and accepting invitations you dreaded just for the excuse to spend more time with him somewhere new.

He had a wooly black hat over his head that was pushing his bangs against his forehead, stopping just above his eyes that looked a lot bigger than they had earlier. His cheeks were pink from either the cold or your hushed conversation and you thought for a second that he looked years younger back in Busan than he did in your small college city.

You could feel the material of his hat pressing against your skin as he leaned his forehead against yours and now you figured you were really breathing hard, much more noticeable than your racing heartbeat.

You could think it over a hundred times and never know who had been the first to press your lips together but you supposed it didn’t really matter, all thoughts escaping your mind the second you felt the light touch.

It didn’t stay soft for long because a certain desperation took over you that made you push into him even harder, hands gripping his winter coat and keeping him tugged so close you almost lost your balance a few times. His hand stayed on your cheek as he led you in the kiss and your mouths moved together slowly and bordering on something more emotional.

You’d not been a big enough idiot to pretend you didn’t notice the way Jungkook looked at you or how whatever it was that had been floating between you for months certainly wasn’t friendly but you definitely had stopped considering a path where this was possible.

You had been content being stuck in your weird inbetween until one of you got too exhausted or too jealous and shattered the fragility of a longing filled friendship.

Instead the universe has apparently decided to cut you a break just this once and give you something that was undeniably yours and so special it made your heart ache, giving him somebody who saw him whole heartedly and could pick him out of a crowd of millions.

The cold beach felt a little warmer when you were pulling out of the kiss and leaning your forehead against his, laughing in slight disbelief as the waves teased the soles of your crossed boots.

[rockyyfireee]

HEy.. IS THIS 959 👅👅 may i place this under the name Gagamaru anon.. Ok perfect so id like u do write how Bachira, Barou, Gagamaru and.. Ego😬.. would act when they realize theyve made u upset 🌹🍑🍑 NO,, U HANG UP ❀‎ܓ(｡◠ ꇴ ◠｡ )

Ask and you shall receive. Dispatcher out (*Hangs Up*)😝 (Let me COOK) (and I'm SO sorry for the late reply, my exams are around the corner so I'm trying to INHALE my books. School is highkey frying my shit rn 🫩)

BLLK BOYS WHEN THEY REALISE YOU’RE MAD AT THEM

CHARACTERS: Meguru Bachira, Shoei Barou, Gin Gagamaru, Ego Jinpachi

WARNINGS: None. Fluff and slight Cursing

MEGURU BACHIRA

Bachira actually doesn't realize it until your sat cross-legged on the couch, remote basically choking in your grip as you commit the absurd crime of you watching your couple's playlist of movies without him.

Would be pouting so hard and become clingier just to get your attention again and would NOT stop asking you what was wrong.

When he realises that you were mad at him specifically, oh lord he'd go absolutely full panic mode and basically rewire his mind to come up with every apology in the book.

His words and cute pouting became so insistently annoying you'd finally give in when you walked into your bedroom filled to the brim with heart shaped balloons with the cheesiest words and love quotes.

"Your so cheesy." you scowl.

"But you love it, right?" He'd beam clearly ready to suffocate you in a bear hug.

You don't reply but you cant help but crack the smallest grin, his last and final heads up he'd been forgiven and has the freedom to pounce on you without accounting for a black eye.

SHOEI BAROU

•Barou basically assumes your throwing a fit over nothing, giving you the most judgemental looks when he takes notice of your quieter yet sharper remarks.

•When he FINALLY clocks that your mad at him, he keeps the display that he’s all irritated and unaffected by it but deep down he’s PANICKING.

•Attempts to gain some sort of forgiveness subtly without actually apologising to you because his pride is too damn big for that. Perhaps making you your favourite meal or being a little more affectionate in terms of kissing your face enough to have you rebuke the nonchalance you were exuding his way.

•When you give him that sharp ass glare, he knows he’s won, pulling you close into a firm embrace.

•“Knew you’d give in eventually, Idiot.”

•“Shut up. You wanted to be nonchalant so bad, but you caaareee.”

•He gently smacks the back of your head, scowl in place but the affection behind his eyes was undeniable. “Shut it. You’re ruining the moment.”

GIN GAGAMARU

•Gagamaru’s intuition is so deep, he knew you were about to get mad before you even knew, but of coarse he didn’t know how to solve the situation before it got out of hand because he is really bad at understanding people.

•Although he tries with you as best as he can, apologising while still being clueless and thinking up off something that might make you soften up.

•When you see him come back home with a cute little dog, your defences immediately break, because your love for animals was just as strong as his.

•He was relieved to see you shower the puppy in awe as he secretly celebrated his shaky victory. Whew.

•”I suppose I can forgive you this time. You won’t be so lucky next time.” You scowl his way, making him straighten with a sheepish smile.

•”Yes ma’am.”

EGO JINPACHI

•Ego is an analytical weapon, so of coarse he noticed your strange behaviour right away. How you’d give him curt answers and do everything in your power to avoid him. How petty.

•Because he loves to analyse people, he knows what will make you forgive him despite hating doing this for other people. But it was you.

•Bros the type to do that fuck ass motion, where he adjusts his glasses like any other anime character before buying you a bouquet of flowers and going out to watch anything of your choice even if he only enjoyed watching soccer.

•When you finally start to crack under the effort he rarely puts in, he’s relieved at you finally forgiving him without him having to utter a verbal apology. Another prideful bastard.

• “I guess you deserve my attention after all.” You hum as you stuff your face with candy, head on his lap once you’d gotten home.

•He scoffs, his hand on your head was a habit he’d come accustomed to as he patted you twice. “Nice of you to stop being a smartass. I couldn’t stand being ignored is all.”

Authors note: I know my account is new and all but my posts might be a little late, like I said, it’s exam season 🫩💔. But I will post when I can, requests are still open, and I’m also working on a lil something something on Wattpad. If y’all read them AOT fanfics, yk the vibes I’m going at for a bluelock au 😛. Buh byeee 💕✌🏽