wadafuckdel ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ

Angela immediately perked up a little, sitting up from where she had slouched on the couch after the last story and tucked her legs up under her and leaned into Amanda, ready to give her full attention to this story, eyes briefly flashing to look at you before they went back to Shayne, “Oh my god, this is goinna be good.”

Amanda laughed beside her and nodded in agreement, “Oh yeah, [Y/N] has shown me some of her favourite stories before, I’m excited for this.” Shayne let out a little laugh and nodded with them. 

“This story comes from r/Relationship_Advice and is from 2020 and is titled ‘I’m in love with my best friend and roommate’”

Amanda and Angela both let out a little aww at the title but Amanda was quick to say “As much as I love a good friends to lovers story, let’s hold off on that because these other stories have been insane, let wait until we hear the whole story.” 

“Yeah, yeah. You’re right, let’s lock in.” Angela quickly steeled her face and you let out a small chuckle from where you sat behind the camera, already knowing what story was coming and as Shayne started a reading, a small content smile made its way to your face.

“Obligatory, this is a throwaway account. I (f 28) am in love with my (m 29) best friend and roommate who we will call Charlie for anonymity. In 2016, I moved to a new city for work and was invited to a party by a friend, where I met Charlie and we hit it off right away. We have very similar tastes in music, videos and games and we spent around 70% of the party talking to each other and swapped numbers and we quickly became close, going out to new movies, finding the most obscure indie movies to watch together and having many game nights at one of our apartments. It was these game nights where our friendship really blossomed, we would talk about anything and everything and conversation would be so easy because we would never run out of anything to talk about and even in moments of silence, it was soft and comfortable. Working in the entertainment industry, I sometimes feel like I’m having to perform when I’m in the office to match the energy of those around me but with Charlie there was no performance needed. We could simply exist in a shared space and enjoy each other's presence, there was no need to perform or entertain, we could just be ourselves.”

Amanda and Angela both melted a little on the couch, sweet smiles tracing their lips and you couldn’t help but smile as well. The early days of your friendship with Spencer were quite englightning, in previous friendships you had always given away parts of yourself, energy and time, but had never gotten anything in return. You were the person people turned to when they needed a shoulder to cry on, someone to vent to or even just someone to stave away the boredom, but when you needed that your friends never had the time and it took you a very long time to learn that it wasn’t healthy. That relationships, even friendships, are a give and a take and you were always giving and giving and giving until it ran you dry. 

But it was never like that with Spencer, if you needed him he was there. Even if he was a country away, the second you text him that something was wrong he was on the phone to talk you through it and support you. He reached out to you as much as you reached out to him, you were the first person he would text in the morning and at night and even if he didn’t have much time he would still take the time to send a silly meme or a funny picture captioned ‘you’ because he knew it made your day just a little bit better. He included you in plans and events outside of your weekly game or movie nights, inviting you as his plus one for things Smosh was involved in and always bringing you to the holiday parties at the office and introducing you to people as his best friend with the widest grin on his face. 

And you would do the same for him, picking up the phone when he needed you and rushing to his place with snacks and shitty movie recommendations that you could laugh at when he had a bad day, supporting him through many late night editing nightmares with corrupted files and bad audio, texting him things that reminded him of you. And when you couldn’t be there in person, you were sending him memes and videos throughout the day, post mating him coffee and kickstarts and sending little reminders to drink water and get up and walk when you knew he would be stuck at the editing bay for hours. Taking him out to cool food spots you found, little unknown family ran businesses that had the best vibes and great customer services, bringing him to movie events and press events for projects you were working on and proudly introducing him to your family as your favourite person when they came to visit you.

One of you never took more than the other, or gave more. It was a mutual comfortable companionship where you never demanded more than what the other could give. It was the foundation of every part of your relationship, platonic and romantic. As Shayne moved on in the story, you tuned back in despite knowing every word by heart.

“Then in 2018, I started workin for the same digital media company Charlie and our mutual friend worked at, as an editor and production assistant. My desk was right next to his, and on my first day he left my favourite snack and monster flavour (despite the many playful arguments we had over monster vs kickstart) alongside a note of encouragement, which I thought was really sweet”

“That’s so cute.” Amanda had raised her hand to her heart and looked like she was starting to tear up a little at the words, Angela nodded her head in agreement and let out a little chuckle as well as she voiced her thoughts.

“I honestly thought that Spencer was the only person who drinks Mountain Dew Kickstart.”

Laughter boomed throughout the room, all of the cast and crew laughing at the comment, including you. Spencers love for the energy drink was a well known thing and a recurring joking argument in your relationship was if monster or kickstart was the superior energy drink. Once Shayne’s laughter had quietened down, he continued with the story.

“The notes became a recurring thing, if I had a long day full of meetings and preparations for videos I would find a note on my computer screen with either a joke or encouraging words and it always perked me right up if I was feeling down. Charlie also worked as an editor at the time and during long days that stretched into nights of editing we fell into a comfortable pattern of sharing snacks and jokes like they were sacred texts that only existed in the space of the editing bay and only existed for us to know about. We would talk and laugh and help the other when it was needed but somewhere along the way it turned into something more. Our chairs would end up closer together, his hand would find mine to rub soothing circles against the skin to ground me when I got frustrated, mine would be on the base of his neck rubbing at the muscles to relieve the tension and aches in it from sitting slouched most of the day. Casual touching became our normal and what had started in the quiet space of our editing sprees spread outside of it, his hand on my knee when driving, holding my hand when walking through a crowd, my head in his lap when watching movies and his hands in my hair.”

Amandas eyes narrowed slightly, suspicion starting to worm its way into her brain as her eyes scanned the room and landed on your. She wasn’t with Smosh when you started working with them, but you were sure you had heard the stories of how much you and Spencer acted like a couple before you were actually a couple. She let out a little “okay” before turning back to Shayne, but she still looked a little suspicious. 

“I think those were the earliest moments I remember being like ‘oh shit, i like him as more than a friend’ but I truly tried to push it down and push it away because I didn’t think he felt the same and I didn’t want to ruin what we had and risk losing him. So I ignored the feelings, pushed them to the side and just stayed being the best friend I could be. Recently however, I’ve been finding it hard to ignore it. Just before the lockdown started, we moved in together. Don’t get me wrong, I love living with Charlie. He’s a great roommate but being in such close proximity with him, almost 24/7, has made ignoring my feelings difficult”

You remember moving in with Spencer, it was a necessity at the time but one you wouldn’t change for the world. The panic around the pandemic was rising and when the whispers of a lockdown started both of your previous roommates took the chance to go back to their homes while they could, which you fully understood, so not being able to afford rent on your apartments by yourselves, you and Spencer moved in together. It was simultaneously one of the best decisions of your life and one of the most stressful. 

Spencer was a good roommate, more than that he was a fantastic roommate. He took care of his own mess and laundry, was happy to help with chores and understood boundaries and when you needed your own space. He never once complained when you asked him to do something and was always quick to help when you needed a hand, very quickly the two of you moved with a quiet domesticity that was natural and almost seemed inevitable. 

And then the quiet, casual intimacy that was born in the editing bay evolved into something more again. His hand on your waist as he reached into a cupboard above you, how his hand always reached for yours across the couch on movie night only to pull you closer to lay against his body, your legs thrown over his while you worked on scripts and ideas for lockdown appropriate videos and he played games on the tv, how casually he would pull you to sit on to his lap when he wanted you to check something on the video he was editing. 

The most daming one of all that sent you spiraling and triggered the original reddit post was how he looked at you like there was something reverant about you. You hhad been helping him edit a games video, your focus on the screen in front of you and then when you turned to Spencer to tell him it all looked good you caught him staring. Your breath had hitched and your heart pounded hard against your chest, almost to the point of pain and you were convinced Spencer could hear it. The look he had given you was so intimate and vulnerable. It was as if he was seeing deep into the very being of your soul and had seen every part of it, all the good, the bad, the pure and the broken and he had decided that there was something sacred and beautiful about it. Something worth loving in it. And it terrified you. 

So much so that when he reached a hand out to cup your cheek, you quickly made an excuse about needing to finish something for your meeting the next day and practically ran out of the room and into your own where you proceeded to spiral and spill your guts to reddit.  

“Every day it gets harder and harder not to tell him how I feel. We could be doing the most mundane thing like washing dishes together or cooking and I look over at him and I just become so overwhelmed with feelings and emotions that I want to blurt out that I love him. Just tonight, I was helping him edit something and when I turned to tell him that it looked good I froze. He was looking at me like he loved me too and my heart felt like it was going to explode but I didn’t say anything, instead I ran out of the room with the excuse of having work to do and came to reddit instead because I needed to get this out of my system. I have never had anyone look at me the way he did, like they loved every single part of me and they he had already planned our future together in their mind. So reddit, any advice?”

Shaynes voice was soft as he finished the story and you smiled softly to yourself as every emotion you were feeling that night came back with the memories. Angela and Amanda both had tears in their eyes and they were snuggled up together on the couch with Angelas head on Amandas shoulders. There was silence for a few seconds as the pair gathered their thoughts and feelings about this story. Amanda was the first to speak, her throat clearing before she did so she didn’t sound choked up, “Okay, well first of all. Girl, go get your man.” 

Angela and Shayne laughed at Amandas comment and she continued, “You also better tell me there's an update to this one.” She glared slightly and pointed at Sahyne, trying her best to look intimidating and scary and Shayne only laughed but he nodded his head.

“There is an update but let's get some comments and thoughts from you guys first.”

Amanda just replied with a “Good” as her gaze softened again, there was still a little look of suspicion in her eyes as she pieced together timelines and the story but she didn’t voice it and when she looked at you, you just smiled. 

“I can see why it’s one of [Y/N]’s favourites, she's a sucker for friends to lovers. I agree with Amanda, go get him OP. Tell him how you feel! If I can tell through this reddit post just how down bad for you that man is, then OP needs to tell him.” 

Shayne nodded along to what Angela had said and rubbed a hand against his jaw, “Yeah, like it definitely seems from what OPs saying that Charlie also has feelings for them as well but as always with reddit stories we’re not getting the full picture,”

Amanda and Angela nodded and agreed but Amanda was quick to jump in with, “Yeah, I get that but I don’t know…Theres something about this post that is so uniquely vulnerable that I can’t help but feel like we’ve got a pretty good look at whats happening. I mean, its a little cliche and like a hallmark movie but we’ve seen things like this play out in real life. Like friends and coworkers who start dating and fall in love, its is a very real possibility” 

“Yeah, it's a very real possibility. I mean we saw it play out with Shayne and Courtney and even though we weren’t here for it, Spencer and [Y/N] as well. They were friends who happened to fall in love and they’re each other's perfect matches.” Shayne nodded along to Angela’s words and quickly glanced at you out of the corner of his eyes.  

Shayne moves on to reading some of the comments, all of them supportive and encouraging you to tell ‘Charlie’ how to feel and reiterating the same thoughts as Amanda and Angela that he was obviously in love with you too. 

As the studio door opens, you smile and scooch over on the sofa, Spencer carefully sneaks behind the cameras and joins you on the sofa his arm automatically wrapping around your shoulders and pulling you against his chest. “Have they got to it yet?”

His whispers into your ear gently and you grin up at him and shake your head, “They’ve just done comments and they’re moving onto the update now.” A wide grin stretches across Spencers face, matching your own and he places a kiss on your forehead before turning back to watch Shayne reading the next part of your story. 

“Okay, so the update was posted literally this morning. 5 years after the original post.” Shaynes eyes scan down the update as he speaks and you and Spencer can’t help but laugh as his eyes widen in shock and he so so slowly moved around to look at the two of you on the couch, the camera following his line of sight and showing you almost doubled over in laughter as Spencer clutches his stomach. Amanda and Angela look between the two of you and Shayne with questioning looks on their face and Angela starts to almost shout, “What is happening right now? Shayne what is going on?”

Shayne shakes his head and turns back to Amanda and Angela who are looking at him with raised eye brows, “Okay, okay lets get into this update. You guys aren’t ready for this”

Despite still being confused about what is happened, Amanda and Angela settle back into the sofa and give their full attention as Shayne starts.

“Hi guys, I know its been 5 years since the last post on this account but I got a little overwhelmed with everything that happened and got swept up into my life with my boyfriend ‘Charlie’. For thos who are new here, back in 202 in the middle of the lockdown I posted about how I was in love with my best friend and roommate Charlie and I received a lot of positive comments encouraging me to tell Charlie how I felt. It has been 5 years since that post but there's been some big developments in the last few months that I thought an update was deserved.”

“Oh my god they're married!” Angela practically jumped out of her seat as she shouted and Amanda placed a hand on her shoulder while laughing at her antics as Shayne laughed along, “Settle down babe” 

“Okay first of all, after posting my story I stayed up until 2am reading the comments on my original post and crying at all the support everyone had shown me, I can’t thank you all enough for the words of encouragement because without it, I think I would have sat and spiralled about how I destroyed any chance of a relationship with the most amazing man alive. Secondly, after reading all the comments I put on my big girl pants and went to see if Charlie was still awake, thankfully he’s a night owl and frequently stays up late playing games or watching movies and I found him in the living room with a movie on in the background. I asked him if we could talk and he said yes. I’m not going to go into the details of our conversation because it got very personal and very vulnerable.” 

Spencers squeezed your shoulder gently and started rubbing soft circles into the fabric of yours (his) jumper, that conversation was hard to have. Vulnerability was always a little foreign to you, showing feelings and weaknesses, something you feared because it had been turned against you time and time again, but with Spencer it was different. 

That night you laid your soul bare to him, every heartache that led you to be who you were today. Every little thing that was said and done to you that made you fear not only being in love, but being loved by another person so wholly and completely. Every insecurity you had and reason you felt you didn’t deserve to be loved tumbled out of you like a tidal wave that just couldn’t be stopped once you had started. You cried, Spencer cried but still he held you in his arms and rubbed your back as he promised you he loved you. You were never too much and never would be too much. He loved how much you cared and how you loved with not just your entire heart but your whole being. He loved everything about you, not despite but regardless. 

That night your living room changed from simply a shared living space to a sacred sanctuary where the first chapter of your love story was etched into your bones and souls and the cosmos as you promised to show up for each other and love each other through the hardest moments of life. 

“But we did talk and realised we had both been harbouring feelings for each other for a while and we began dating. The last 5 years have been absolutely incredible. I won't lie and say that it's been all sunshine and rainbows and that it's been easy the whole time, because it hasn’t. Like any couple we’ve had fights and arguments and stressful situations but one of the things we both value in a relationship is open and honest communication so we’ve always been able to work through these things even if it does take a few days to actually sit down and talk. Because that's what love is, it’s showing up and trying even when things are hard. Now onto the real meat of the update and the reason I decided to post an update, don’t worry its a good thing. Charlie and I recently got engaged!”

Amanda and Angela both smile widely as Shayne reads and lets out a “yay!”, clapping their hands together while Shayne side eyes you and Spencer on the couch before he continues, “It wasn’t a big surprise or out in public, but quiet and intimate and perfect. I had been cooking dinner for us with some music playing in the background when he got home from work (I had left earlier because of a doctor's appointment) and he came into the kitchen, kissed me and started a normal conversation, I was none the wiser. Once the food was done and I removed it from the heat he pulled me back into his chest and started swaying me gently to the music and we danced like that for a few minutes just enjoying the feeling of being in each other's arms. Charlie then spins me and when I turn to face him, there he is down on one knee with a beautiful ring. Through tears, I said yes and now we are happily engaged. It was perfect. Thank you reddit so much for your advice and support, I wouldn’t be here without you and yes I will post a picture of the ring.”

As Shaye finished the story, anxiety shot through you because you knew Amanda and Angela would want to see the ring, it was the whole point of this story being in the video but still you couldn’t help the nerves that bubbled up inside you for your friend's reaction to your engagement. Amanda and Angela wipe small tears from their eyes as they immediately ask Shayne for the iPad to see the photo and you brace yourself. Posted at the bottom your reddit story is a photo of you and Spencer one of his arms wrapped around your chest while he places a kiss to your check and your left hand on his bicep, showing off your engagement ring. 

The response is immediate shouting of “what the fuck!” from both Angela and Amanda, followed by both their heads winging round to you and Spencer on the couch. Your anxiety slowly being replaced with happiness and you both laugh at their outburst, they look to the iPad and then back to you and then the iPad and back to you multiple times as the shock settles, the cameras following their movements. “I can’t believe it!” “You gotta be kidding me??” 

They both start shouting over each other, questions of how, what, when and where all flying at once and your’re still laughing, tears forming in your eyes, when Angela barrels across the room in what seems like rage but it actually pure joy as she tears you up from the sofa and engulfs you in a tight hug that has the air leaving your lungs. 

“Oh my god you guys. This is incredible. Congratulations!” She lets you go and hugs Spencer in the same way as Shayne and Amanda make their way over and hug you too, offering their own congratulations. Though Amanda whispers in your ear, jokingly, about how sneaky that was and she was suspicious that it was you from the first story while also saying how happy she was. After a few minutes of hugs and congratulations, Bailey calls them back onto the set to finish off the video and as everyone settles in again your shout to Shayne “There’s another photo!” 

He looks confused for a second before scrolling on the iPad again and coming across the final photo, his jaw dropping open completely as he turns it to Amanda and Angela. This one he doesn’t share with the audience, immediately dropping back into his host persona as he does the outro for the video while Amanda and Angela freak out on the other couch. 

“Thank you for watching and let us know how you feel about the bomb that just dropped”

As soon as the cameras are cut, Amanda and Angela aren’t even bothering to get their mic’s off as they run up to you with the iPad and shove it in your face almost accusingly, the photo of the ultrasound staring back at your face and making you smile, both shouting at the same time “ARE YOU PREGNANT?”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Relationship or Relation-No | Reading reddit stories

@ userone: always knew [Y/N] was a reddittor ↳ @ usertwo: they're with spencer, are we sure they're a redditor by choice? @ userthree: YOU CAN'T JUST LEAVE IT AT THAT! WHAT WAS THE OTHER PHOTO ↳ @ userfour: no literally. that was just...evil @ userfive: the look on shayne's face as he read ahead on the update absolutely sent me ↳ @ usersix: i was in tears, he has the best facial expressions

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

yourusername

yourusername forever grateful to the universe (and court) for bringing me to you (p.s scroll to the end to see what the second photo was 👀)

liked by spennser and others

co_mill forever grateful for you my love ‪‪❤︎‬ and i can't wait to meet smoshs newest member!

userone another smosh baby has hit the timeline

↳ usertwo and its a baby chosen 😭

angelagiovanagiarratana still not over you telling us in a REDDIT VIDEO

➽──────────────────────────────❥

you were reserved. everyone who ever came to know you knew that you were. so when you had gotten a follow-up call from ian hecox about being hired as a cast member those almost eleven years ago, you were quite truthfully confused. but as they say, opportunities come when you least expect it. and you definitely hadn't expected that one.

not to say it was all bad. sure, it took a long time to get used to everyone. watching newcomers come aboard the smoffice, holding parties for those who left, the list goes on and on.

now, you had your tight-knit group of friends; the cast members. they looked after you, each other, everyone in the office. they especially congratulated you when you were promoted to work with the games channel closely. alongside your close friend spencer, of course.

the two of you were inseparable. always walking to the games set together, having dinner in each other's houses to discuss ideas for smosh games videos and hang out, even being on videos with each other most of the time (due to your unshakeable chemistry on camera)

it was a perfect dynamic; he would say the most out-of-pocket, horrendous things, and you would give him the snarkiest remark or shut him down in a way fans seemed to crave in every video. not to mention the two of you were one of smosh's iconic duos (right after courtney and shayne, of course).

of course, with all of this being aired to the public, your fans very obviously interpreted the friendship as something more. compilations of you two "flirting", the fans would label it as, quickly made their way onto the Internet.

you didn't mind, it's not like anything was happening between the two of you so you let the fans be as they are. sometimes, spencer and you would even feed the fans, letting them know specific stories that the two of you experienced together. it was fun, comfortable even.

until the unexpected came.

.

you were getting ready to join angela, shayne and chanse at the games stage, who were talking mindlessly while waiting for the 'staring contest livestream' to start. horrible idea, by the way. you don't know what alex and spencer were smoking when they agreed to shayne's wacky idea.

"what the hell, spence, i did not agree to be here." you grumble with an iced coffee in hand, waiting for spencer to strap up your microphone to your shirt. he smiles to himself.

"well, you'd bring a great vibe to the live if you keep acting like that." he clips the microphone to your shirt, his eyes lingering on yours a little longer and his smile a little softer to be considered friendly.

"i've told you how stupid i think this idea is." you roll your eyes, setting your arms down to behave normally, taking a sip from your coffee before handing it to him so that you could sit down at the table. spencer grabs your wrist softly. "all the time, just try not to show it too much on camera, yeah?" he says lightheartedly, knowing you were going to do the exact opposite.

"you know i'm going to ignore what you just said." you smile softly before sitting down next to chanse who gives you a knowing glance. you scoff, pushing his face away which he responds with a groan.

.

"are you turning me bald again?"

"if i turned you bald you'd lose all your fans," you mused, standing behind spencer as you softly snipped the hair on the back of his head, "and i'd have to look at your bald head all day, so don't worry. your hair is fine." you softly blowed at his neck, ridding of the extra hairs which caused a shiver to run down spencer's spine.

when he told you he wanted to get a haircut, you slightly frowned. his hair was nice enough as it is, but you had to agree it was getting quite long. as long as he didn't get a bowl cut or a buzz cut, you'd be happy with it.

the real kicker was when he asked you to cut his hair for him, coming up with an excuse along the lines of-

"my barber's out of town." spencer says, chilling on your sofa as the two of you finished eating homestate for dinner. you tilt your head at him in confusion, "I could always bring you to a different one?"

"well yeah, but where's the adventure in that? you can cut hair, right?"

"I mean, yeah but-"

"I trust you with my hair more than a stranger." and there it was; that smile. god, did it make you fold everytime.

you groan before standing up. walking to your bathroom. you pause midway, turning around to meet spencer's eyes, "c'mon before I change my mind." spencer practically jumps off the sofa to join you.

and here you were, picking up a shaver before carefully shaving a little off the sides of spencer's head. spencer, ever the restless one, tries to catch a glance of what you're doing but you grab his chin and make him face forward. "if you move again, I'm going to give you a mohawk."

"that'd be a killer look, don't tempt me." he smiles, and you break out into a small laugh. "shut up."

"yes ma'am." You roll your eyes playfully before going back to trimming the sides of spencer's hair. after you decide that it's enough, you blow again, that same shivering feeling crawling up his spine.

then, you move to face spencer. "hi." he mutters. you smile, "hey." you reach for your hair scissors before focusing on the front of spencer's hair, making sure to add a significant amount of layers. as you trimmed the front of his hair, spencer can't help but stare at you.

the way you gently combed through his hair to find strands that were a little off so that you could trim them, the way your eyes narrowed in concentration, the way you bit your lip to ground yourself whenever you were focused.

"you're good at this." spencer breaks the silence and you physically freeze. but only for a moment.

"you haven't even seen your hair yet." you take your eyes off of spencer's hair to look at his eyes– his eyes that were already looking into yours.

"right. you just–you seem like you're doing a really good job."

you scoff in amusement, going back to trimming spencer's hair. as you snipped the final strand, you combed through his hair to get rid of any extra hair, and spencer leans into your touch.

"all done." you stand up, swiping off any extra hairs that clung to spencer's shirt.

"woah–it looks so good." spencer says as he glances in the mirror

"is it bad that I wanted that to last forever?" spencer smiles, his grin wide from ear to ear. you roll your eyes, not fighting the smile tugging on your own lips.

"I seem to have that effect on people."

"I believe that."

.

the two of you clean up the hair trimmings on the floor before heading back to your sofa. spencer decided to stay a little longer than he usually does, something along the lines of you going, "stay for a movie?" with a tone so sweet and unnatural from your usual character that makes it hard to say no. so he does. he stays.

for one movie, he tries so hard to remind himself. just one movie and i'll go.

yeah, okay spencer.

3 movies in, your head is on spencers shoulder and his arm is around yours. by complete coincidence, by the way. but neither of you make the effort to move. you can hear spencers heart beating slightly faster than normal which makes you wonder if you should be treading this line.

just focus on the movie, you tell yourself. i shouldnt have asked him to stay, this is way too intimate. you bite the insides of your cheek.

a cringy scene comes up, and right as you turn to look at spencer, a joke on the tip of your tongue ready to be said, you pause and your sly grin fades when you see him already looking at you, and before you know it, he leans in.

the kiss is soft, and as much as you hate to say it; you were enjoying it. your eyes started to flutter close before you remembered how bad this situation was. red-sirens-flashing-in-your-brain bad. so you shoved him off and stood up abruptly.

"i think..." you dragged on, face flushed red as spencer looked at you confusedly, "i think you should go."

"sorry, was that too-"

"no, um. no, it was- you know its getting late.. we have work tomorrow and its a shoot week, you know? so uh, thanks for coming," you say, panicked as you gather spencers things. spencer follows you around as you slowly spiral, handing him his things.

you open your front door, gesturing for spencer to leave. he stares at you dumbfounded before nodding softly, "i guess i'll...see you tomorrow, then," his tone wasnt sad, or hurtful. it was almost understanding. like he knew that all you needed was to process the situation.

you closed the door behind him before sliding to the floor, hands in your hair.

"god, im such an idiot."

tomorrow would be an eventful day.

.

"hey, honey. you're a little off today, is everything okay?" courtney questions you in the office kitchen. your eyes go wide in front of the coffee maker, "off? im not off. im fine," it comes out a little harsher than expected, which makes courtney raise an eyebrow.

amanda and angela walk into the kitchen, bickering about something angela said during their last shoot probably. the two glance at you and courtney as you take a sip from your freshly brewed coffee.

"hey hun, why haven't i seen you with spencer all morning?" amanda asks, and suddenly your coffee goes down the wrong pipe. the three girls rush to you immediately as you cough on your drink.

"is that so? i didn't, um, notice." you smile awkwardly, hoping they would brush off the topic. that hope quickly washes away once they start giving you skeptical looks.

"what happened babe? did you guys have a fight?" angela questions, which causes you to laugh nervously.

"oh honey, dont worry. when shayne and i fight, all i do is i say poop repeatedly until he stops-"

"okay, courtney. first of all, love that. second of all: spencer and i aren't a married couple-"

"-yet." amanda chimes in, "and third-" you glare at amanda before continuing your sentence, "and third of all: we're technically not fighting."

"what do you mean you guys aren't fighting?" angela tilts her head in confusion.

"well, it's actually kind of- the opposite?"

"i...don't think we're following." amanda trails off, giving the floor to you. you breathe in to calm yourself, "promise this doesn't leave us?"

the three girls salute proudly, which makes you sigh. "okay, so...spencer and i may have....kissedlastnight."

you shrink while the three gasp at your statement in both surprise and happiness. "ohmygod, ohmygod, ohmygod!" "this can't be real!" "are you serious?" the overlapping of voices couldn't even let you differentiate who said what.

"let me finish. we did kiss last night. however, i may have....completely freaked out and kicked him out of my apartment right after it happened."

gobsmacked. thats the expression you would use to describe the way the three looked at you.

"you freaked out? did you say sorry? is he hurt? like, emotionally? did you guys talk at all after that? who started the kiss? was it bad? is that why you kicked him ou-"

"angela, honey, one question at a time," amanda softly taps angelas shoulder, which she responds with a, "right. sorry,"

"um, i didn't say sorry. he wasn't hurt, he looked kind of...understanding? we haven't talked since the kiss. he started it. it wasn't...wasn't bad at all."

"then why did you kick him out?" amanda leans on the kitchen counter while you take another nervous sip of your coffee.

"um, i'm not really- not really sure." you swallowed.

"honey, not to pressure you or anything, but spencer's been having the hots for you since the two of you started working here," courtney rests a hand on your shoulder. you tilt your head, "wait what? how do you know that?"

"he told me- well, i found out from shayne, but even if, don't tell me you never saw the signs?"

thats what made you think about it. you tried to remember if you noticed any ounce of like that spencer had for you. that time you went to the fair together? no that seemed pretty friendly. your first introduction? totally work appropriate. that time spencer asked you to get dinner a month after being introduced? and you started the dinner off by saying it was your first time having a dinner with a co-worker? that was pretty- ah, shit.

"oh no. how could i be so stupid?" you cover your face with your hands, shaking your head in embarrassment. courtney smiled softly, removing your hands from your face, "honey, you're not stupid. emotions are weird sometimes."

"oh, definitely, dont sweat it babe," angela smiled, placing a hand on your shoulder.

"i should go talk to spencer, right?" you bit your lip nervously while the three nodded. amanda grinned, "and make sure to let us know what happens!"

you roll your eyes before grabbing your coffee cup and leaving the kitchen with a small wave.

.

"hey, dude! you ready to teach these guys how to play mine turtle?" alex tran smiles as you enter the games stage, which you roll your eyes at, "if you're ready to lose again, yeah."

then your eyes land on spencer, waiting patiently with his thermos of mountain dew kickstart in hand, giving you a small smile. your eyes widen, remembering that mine turtle was in his call sheet.

you clear your throat, taking a sip of your coffee before setting it down in the nearest table, "right, so today we're playing 'don't press that mine turtle', which is actually an asdfmovie reference,"

"and what's a...sdf?" amanda mutters, which spencer and alex laugh at while shayne gestures amanda to just let it go.

you continued to explain the rules of mine turtle, trying to ignore the burning feeling of spencer's eyes on you quite literally the whole time. amanda and angela notice, giving you nervous looks. you simply smiled softly at them, letting them know that it was okay.

finally, after one trial round, they were ready for the shoot.

"hey," alex walks up next to the main camera where you happen to be standing, looking over the call sheet. your ears perk up and you give alex a small smile, "hey?"

"were you the one who gave spencer that haircut?" you freeze. laughing awkwardly, you try to hide your uneasiness, "yeah, what do you think?"

"killer, dude! he's been getting compliments all day." alex tran smiles as he sets up everything for the shoot.

you let yourself smile a little, "is that so?" a small chuckle as you scanned over the monitor that displayed all the cameras, making sure they were in their intended places.

"oh, for sure man. he's a total ladies man now!" alex says, almost teasingly directed at you. you bite your lip to ground yourself, masking your once flicker of jealousy with a calm expression and even calmer smile, "that's great, alex."

god this was killing you.

as the video started, your job was to make sure they didn't stray from the rules too much. but, let's be real, this was the smosh games set. they were definitely going to have some fun of their own.

after awkwardly telling the cast that they should read the card after angela's little card slide, the video seemed to be going swell.

shayne started being vulnerable after being given a 'be cringe' prompt, which gained a chuckle out of you, barely catching on the mic as the other guys and alex started cackling.

"press two, or, you got that nice new haircut," shayne muses as everyone in the room turns to you. you shrink slightly as shayne comments on how you were the one that gave him the haircut, "let me mess up your hair."

instantly, a camera pans to you, and you could feel everyone's stare as you thought about what to do. with a shy smile, you waved to the camera, giving a small wink.

the camera pans back to the cast as you let out a breath you were holding for a little longer than you'd like. spencer, silently watching your reaction, softly smiles before allowing shayne to mess it up.

and you couldn't lie, it looked good. you glanced at him for a little longer than you intended, but looked away right as he was about to meet your gaze, focusing on the cameras instead.

.

"okay, okay guys- stop pressing the button." you chuckled, after angela and amanda screamed at the turtle in sync. alex chuckled alongside you, trying to get them to calm down.

spencer's adoration for you gleamed in his eyes, admiring the sound of your laugh.

.

"MOVIEEESSSS!!" the entire room burst in laughter, hearing spencer finally shout for the first time.

you smiled in amusement, watching the cameras to take into account the best shot so that you could pitch it to the editors later.

after what seemed like not that long, the video was coming to an end. angela revisited the text she had sent to chanse. then, the four decided it would be fun to keep pressing the turtle until someone lost, declaring the loser of the whole video.

by the time it landed on spencer, the turtle exploded. cheers erupted from the other three as they exclaimed "MOVIESS!" to taunt the poor guy.

and with that, the video ended.

"and, cut! alright, nice, great job guys!" alex announced next to you before the cast and crew slowly left the set one by one to go eat lunch. the only people still there were you, alex and spencer.

spencer, who was still sitting in his seat, stood up to join you and alex, who were talking about other pitches that you might want to schedule for the next shoot week. your eyes widened slightly, noticing spencer's presence.

"hey alex, could'ya give us a moment?" spencer spoke up, and you nervously tugged on your sleeve as alex seemed oblivious to the tension, "yeah, of course! i'm gonna go get lunch."

"cool, i'll meet you there," spencer smiles at alex who leaves and you wave to the long haired brunette before being immediately aware that no one else was on or around set. great.

"so," spencer starts off, trying to gauge whether or not you were uncomfortable. you exhaled with a small smile, "movies, huh?"

he laughs, not expecting that to be your first sentence. you join him, easing the tension a little.

"right, right. movies," he chuckles at the end of his sentence. and suddenly the silence built back up. without a thought, you tried to speak up again,

"listen-"

"about last night-"

you and spencer tried to both speak at the same time. with an awkward smile, the two of you stopped. spencer gestured for you to continue your sentence.

you took a deep breath, "-um, i'm really sorry about kicking you out last night. that was definitely not how i wanted yesterday to end."

"well, yeah it wasn't the best reaction i was expecting, i can tell you that," spencer awkwardly chuckles. you smile a little softer, "okay, you go."

his eyes widened slightly, almost as if you were putting him on the spot, "right, uh-" he clears his throat nervously, "wait. you said that wasn't how you wanted it to end?"

"well...no, not necessarily," you avoided spencer's eye contact. he looked at you almost fondly, "how did you want yesterday to end?"

he said it with a sickly sweet smile which made you want to slap him and tell him your deepest darkest secrets at the same time. you groaned.

"stop looking at me like that, spence."

he laughs, "like what?"

"like- like i hang the stars? like you wanna get down on one knee and propose? like you want to confess your undying love for me!" your mind raced, and he was smiling. fuck, he was smiling. not out of amusement, or out of humour but out of affection.

pure, unfiltered affection.

"i like you. i have for a while, actually," he ended his confession with your name, "there, 'undying love' enough?"

your breath hitches, "you're- you-" you groaned, "you're impossible, agnew."

"well, i've been holding it in since 2014, so do with that what you will." he chuckles and god, you could feel your knees folding at the sound of his laugh.

"yeah, and i was too stupid to notice," you crossed your arms, huffing out of frustration. spencer hummed in acknowledgement, taking a step closer to you, "do you?"

your eyes flicker in confusion, tilting your head up before you realise just how close spencer stepped towards you, "do i what?"

"like me back?" you scoffed at his question, looking back down at your feet.

"maybe not as long as you have, cause, damn, 2014?" you laughed softly, causing spencer to laugh with you, tilting your head up with his hand, "yeah, not my proudest moment, i must say."

"i don't know, i think it's cute."

"you think i'm cute?"

"you know that's not what i said," you rolled your eyes playfully, "but sure. you're cute too, i guess."

"hey, what's with the 'i guess'? just admit it man." he laughs.

"spence, are ya gonna kiss me or not?" you tilt your head, looking up at spencer through your eyelashes with an amused smile. spencer clears his throat, his eyes darting to your lips for a second,

"right, right. just- gearin' up. you know, momentum and stuff. frankly, i think that if-" spencer didn't get to finish his sentence before you closed the distance, pulling him by the shirt.

instantly spencer smiles into the kiss, happy that you initiated it. his hands rested on your waist before he freezes, pulling back, "is- is this okay?" he glances at the hands on your waist. your eyes follow his line of vision, laughing a little at his stutter, "incredibly okay."

spencer sighs, "good, perfect. you're perfect. i mean- that's perfect."

you chuckle again before giving spencer another kiss but pulling away shorter than he'd like. he followed your lips before begrudgingly pulling away with a sigh.

"sorry, spence. we're at work."

"unfortunately," he smiles fondly at you. you smile back, letting go of him before walking towards the door to leave. spencer trails behind you, of course, trying to get rid of any evidence that you two might've kissed.

"we have to fill out that relationship form." spencer muses as the two of you leave the set room, walking towards the lunch area.

you chuckled, "could you go and find ian for that?"

"anything for you, m'lady." he tips his imaginary hat towards you as you rolled your eyes playfully.

The platform was a whirlwind of noise and steam, but you spotted James the second you stepped through the barrier. You always did. Even in a sea of black robes and excited first-years, he stood out—tall for his age, messy dark hair already defying gravity, and that easy, lopsided grin reserved mostly for you.

“Oi! There’s my favorite neighbor!” he called, pushing through the crowd without a care for the people he bumped into. Before you could even adjust your grip on your trunk, he was there, pulling you into a quick, tight hug that smelled like broom polish and the cinnamon sweets his mum always packed. “Took you long enough. Thought I’d have to send Sirius after you.”

“You say that like I’m the one who’s late,” you laughed, nudging his shoulder. “You’re the one who probably woke up at the last possible second again.”

James only winked, grabbing the handle of your trunk with one hand and your wrist with the other. “Come on. Best compartment’s waiting.”

He’d been doing this since you were six—dragging you along like the two of you were attached by an invisible string. Your families’ estates sat side by side in the countryside, so playdates had been inevitable at first. Then they became the highlight of every summer. Every holiday. Every lazy afternoon spent catching frogs by the pond or racing brooms (badly) across the fields. James Potter had been your person for as long as you could remember.

This year felt different, though. He was starting his second year, and you were finally joining Hogwarts. You’d spent the whole train ride from home wondering what it would be like to finally share this world with him instead of just hearing his owls about it.

James slid open the door to a compartment halfway down the train and practically shoved you inside first.

“Gentlemen,” he announced grandly, “meet the best witch you’ll ever know. This is my best friend. We’ve been stuck with each other since we were tiny.”

Three boys looked up.

The one with the dark, shoulder-length hair and a dangerously charming smirk immediately straightened. “Well, hello. James has only mentioned you about a hundred times. I’m Sirius Black. Pleasure’s all yours.”

You couldn’t help laughing. “Only a hundred? I’m offended. I thought it’d be more.”

Sirius barked a laugh, clearly delighted. “I like her already, Prongs.”

The boy beside him—tall, with light brown hair and a scarred face—offered a quiet, kind smile. “Remus Lupin. Nice to finally meet you. James talks about you nonstop.”

“And I’m Peter Pettigrew,” the last boy said, waving a little awkwardly but warmly. He had a round face and a bag of sweets already open on his lap. “Want a Chocolate Frog? They’re good this year.”

You slid into the seat James had clearly been guarding—the one right next to him by the window—and accepted the Frog from Peter with a grateful smile. James dropped down beside you without hesitation, his knee bumping yours comfortably. He didn’t even seem to notice he’d done it. He never did.

The train whistle blew, and with a lurch, you were off.

Conversation flowed easily. Sirius launched into a dramatic retelling of their misadventures from last year—charming suits of armor to dance in the corridors, turning the Slytherin common room’s tap water bright pink for a week. Nothing cruel, just the same clever, chaotic fun that James had written about in his letters when talking about their newest pranks. Remus rolled his eyes fondly and corrected the details when Sirius exaggerated, while Peter chimed in with enthusiastic “yeah!”s and the occasional snack offering.

You fit right in, teasing Sirius back when he tried to flirt, asking Remus about the books he was already reading this term, and laughing when Peter accidentally turned his own eyebrows orange with an experimental Sweet he’d bought.

All the while, James was quieter than usual—not in a bad way, just… softer. He kept glancing at you like he wanted to make sure you were comfortable, that you were laughing, that you were happy. Every so often his arm would rest along the back of the seat behind you, not quite touching, but close enough that you could feel the warmth.

There was that familiar warm feeling in your chest again. Being in his presence brought that feeling, for you felt safest near him. After all, you really loved your best friend more than anything.

“—and then McGonagall nearly hexed us on the spot,” Sirius finished, grinning. “But enough about our glory. Tell us about you. What house do you think you’ll be in? James swears you’re Gryffindor through and through.”

You shrugged, smiling. “I don’t know. Mum thinks Ravenclaw, Dad says Hufflepuff just to wind her up. James has been trying to convince me Gryffindor since I was nine.”

“Obviously,” James said, bumping your shoulder with his. His voice was lighter than it had been with the others all summer. “Where else would you go? We’d miss you too much otherwise.” The words settled warmly between you. You didn’t catch the way Sirius raised an eyebrow at Remus, or the small, knowing glance the two shared.

The countryside blurred past the window as the four boys slowly pulled you into their orbit. And through it all, James stayed right beside you—exactly where he’d always been.

The years at Hogwarts blurred together like the pages of a well-loved photo album—full of laughter, late nights, and the kind of easy rhythm that only came from knowing someone your whole life. 

By your third year, the pattern was already set in stone.

After every Quidditch match, no matter if Gryffindor won or lost, James would touch down on the pitch and scan the stands until he found you. His hair would be windswept and damp with sweat, his grin wide even when his team had taken a beating. He’d ignore the crowds, ignore his teammates, and make a beeline straight for you.

“You came,” he’d always say, a little breathless, like there had ever been a chance you wouldn’t.

“Of course I did, you idiot.” You’d laugh and hand him a water bottle or a towel, and he’d take it with that soft, particular smile he only ever used on you.

In the Great Hall, it was the same story. James would steal chips off your plate without asking, or swipe the last bite of your treacle tart, all while complaining loudly that the house-elves gave you better portions than him. You’d swat his hand away, but never really mind. He’d just grin and lean closer, shoulder pressed to yours like it belonged there.

“James, eat your own food,” you’d scold half-heartedly.

“But yours tastes better,” he’d reply every single time.

You fixed his tie almost every morning. He’d show up to breakfast with it crooked or loose, and without thinking you’d reach up, straighten it, and smooth down his collar. The first time Sirius saw it happen he nearly choked on his pumpkin juice.

“Merlin, you two are disgusting,” he’d tease, but there was always a fond glint in his eye.

The professors weren’t any better. Professor Flitwick once paused mid-lesson to ask, “Potter, dear, would you and your girlfriend like to demonstrate the Levitation Charm together?” The entire class had turned to look. You and James had answered at the exact same time:

“We’re just friends!”

Flitwick had only smiled knowingly and moved on.

Sirius, of course, made it his personal mission to never let anyone forget. He started the fake wedding announcements in your fourth year.

“Daily Prophet, special edition!” he’d shout across the common room one evening, holding up a piece of parchment dramatically. “James Potter, Chaser extraordinaire, to wed childhood sweetheart in a lavish spring ceremony! Guests include one very handsome best man named Sirius Orion Black—”

“Padfoot, I swear on Merlin’s grave—” James groaned, ears turning pink.

You just rolled your eyes and laughed. “We’re just friends, Sirius. How many times?”

“Best friends who are clearly soulmates,” Remus would add quietly from behind his book, smirking.

Peter usually just nodded along, mouth full of sweets. “Yeah… you do sit together everywhere.”

Even when you studied late in the library, the dynamic never changed. James would sprawl across the table with his head propped on one hand, watching you instead of his notes half the time. You’d slide his essay closer and point out mistakes, and he’d thank you by sliding over a bar of Honeydukes chocolate he’d saved just for you.

There was always that warm feeling in your chest during those quiet moments. The fire crackling, quills scratching, James’s knee brushing yours under the table. You really loved your best friend more than anything in the world. That was all it was. A deep, steady, comfortable kind of love.

James, though… you never quite noticed how his gaze would linger. How he’d open his mouth sometimes like he wanted to say something else, then close it again with a small, almost pained smile. How after you’d say goodnight and head back to your dorm, he’d stay behind in the common room, staring into the fire while Sirius clapped him on the back and muttered, “Mate, you’ve got it bad.”

But you didn’t see that part.

To you, it was simply James. Your James. The boy who had held your hand during thunderstorms when you were seven, who had flown you around on his broom during summers, who made every day at Hogwarts feel like an adventure you got to share.

And everyone else could think what they wanted.

You were just friends.

It was a perfectly ordinary Tuesday evening in the Gryffindor common room.

The fire was crackling low, most people had already gone up to bed, and the Marauders had claimed their usual corner. Sirius was dramatically reenacting his latest prank on the Slytherins, complete with sound effects. Remus was half-listening while marking essays, and Peter was dozing off with a half-eaten Chocolate Frog in his hand.

You were curled up on the couch beside James, wearing his spare Quidditch jumper because the common room had gotten chilly and you’d forgotten your own cardigan upstairs. The jumper was far too big on you—sleeves falling past your wrists, the scarlet and gold swallowing your frame—but it was warm and smelled faintly like him (broom polish, grass, and that cinnamon scent that always clung to James).

Sirius pointed at you mid-story. “Look at her! She’s practically drowning in Potter branding. You two may as well just get it over with and elope already.”

“Shut up, Padfoot,” James said lightly, but his voice lacked its usual bite.

You laughed, the sound bright and easy as you tugged the too-long sleeves up your arms. “It’s comfortable, alright? And it’s not my fault James is built like a beanpole who keeps growing.”

James turned his head to look at you.

You didn’t notice at first. You were still smiling, still half-watching Sirius’s chaotic gestures, still absentmindedly fiddling with the hem of his jumper. But something in the air shifted.

James had gone quiet.

His usual restless energy—the constant bouncing knee, the drumming fingers, the endless movement—had stilled completely. He was just… staring. Not at the fire. Not at Sirius. At you. At the way his jumper hung off your shoulder, at the way your laughter lit up your whole face, at the way you looked so perfectly at home right beside him.

You glanced over when he stayed silent.

“James?” you asked, tilting your head. “You okay? You look a bit lost.”

He blinked, and for a split second something raw and unguarded flickered across his face—wide hazel eyes, slightly parted lips, like he’d just been hit with a Bludger he never saw coming.

Then he smiled. That soft, crooked, only-for-you smile.

“Yeah,” he said quietly. “I’m alright.”

But he wasn’t.

Because in that tiny, unremarkable moment—your sleepy laughter, his oversized jumper on your frame, the casual way you leaned a little closer to him without thinking—James Potter finally understood.

Oh.

The word echoed in his head like a whispered confession.

This wasn’t just missing you over summer. This wasn’t just the comfortable warmth of having his best friend beside him. This was something deeper. Something terrifying. Something that made his chest ache in the best and worst possible ways.

He was in love with you.

And it was bad. Really, properly bad.

Because you were you. His favorite person in the entire world. The girl who had known him since he was a scrawny six-year-old who cried when he scraped his knee. The one who fixed his tie, stole his glasses to tease him, and never once looked at him like he was arrogant or loud or too much. If he told you and it went wrong… he could lose this. Lose you. And that was something James wasn’t willing to risk. Not ever.

So he swallowed it down, the way he’d swallowed it a hundred times before without realizing what “it” even was. He forced his expression to stay light even as his heart hammered against his ribs. He reached over and gently tugged one of the long sleeves you kept fighting with.

“Looks better on you anyway,” he said, voice steady even though his heart was racing.

Sirius made another wedding joke. Remus shot James a knowing look over the top of his parchment. You just rolled your eyes fondly and nudged James’s shoulder with yours, that warm, familiar feeling blooming in your chest again.

James laughed along with Sirius’s next joke, but the decision had already cemented itself in his mind.

He would never tell you.

He couldn’t risk it. Not when this—having you this close, this comfortable, this his in every way that mattered—was already more than he thought he deserved.

So he’d keep it locked away. For the sake of your friendship. For the sake of you.

Even if it killed him a little every single day.

The Gryffindor common room was buzzing with low energy after dinner. Most students had drifted off to finish homework, but your little corner by the fireplace was alive with conspiracy.

“Alright,” Sirius whispered, leaning over the Marauders’ Map like it was a battle plan. “We hit the Slytherin dungeons right after Potions tomorrow. One charm on the showers and every time they turn the taps, they’ll sing ‘God Save the Queen’ at full volume.”

You snorted, legs tucked under you on the couch. “That’s evil. I love it. But you’ll need an alibi. Professor Slughorn’s having that Slug Club thing tomorrow night—James and I are already invited. We can say you lot were with us the whole time.”

James, sitting right beside you, lit up like the sun had come out just for him. “See? This is why we keep her around. Best alibi in Hogwarts.”

“Oi!” Sirius clutched his chest in mock betrayal. “She’s my partner in crime tonight. Back off, Prongs.”

You grinned and immediately leaned into the chaos. “Sorry, James. Sirius and I are the masterminds now. You’re just the pretty distraction.”

James clutched his heart dramatically. “Betrayed. By my own best friend.” But his grin was huge—wide, easy, and brighter than it ever was when it was just the four boys. Around you, James seemed lighter. Happier. Like everything clicked into place the second you joined their plans.

Remus watched the whole thing from his armchair, one eyebrow raised, while Peter fidgeted with a pile of fireworks they were planning to use as backup on one hand and chocolate on the other.

The planning session quickly devolved. Sirius kept trying to one-up your ideas, and you kept shooting them down with logic and better suggestions. At one point the two of you ganged up on James when he suggested something overly flashy.

“No, no, no,” you laughed, poking James’s cheek. “If we do it your way, McGonagall will know it’s you in two seconds. Tone it down, Potter.”

“Yeah, Prongs,” Sirius piled on, throwing an arm around your shoulders. “Listen to your wife. She’s clearly the brains.”

James turned pink but couldn’t stop smiling. He swatted Sirius’s arm away from you, but there was no real heat in it. “She’s not my wife, you prat.”

“Yet,” Peter mumbled absentmindedly, licking chocolate off his fingers.

You blinked. “What?”

Peter finally looked up, chocolate still on his lips. “Uh… I mean… everyone says it anyway?”

James groaned and dropped his face into his hands, but his shoulders were shaking with laughter. You reached over and ruffled his already-messy hair, which only made him peek at you through his fingers with that soft, heart-melting look again.

Later that night, after an intense Quidditch practice, James came storming into the common room still in his scarlet robes, muttering under his breath about a bad call by the captain. His hair was even wilder than usual, frustration rolling off him in waves. The boys knew better than to poke the bear when he got like this.

You didn’t.

You stood up, walked straight over, and tugged gently on his tie until he stopped pacing.

“Hey,” you said softly. “Breathe. It was one practice. You’re still the best Chaser in the school.”

James exhaled, long and slow. The tension melted from his shoulders the second your fingers brushed his chest. He let you straighten his tie even though it didn’t need fixing, eyes locked on your face like you were the only calm thing in his world.

“Thanks,” he murmured, voice quieter now. Only for you.

Remus noticed everything, of course. Especially the way James stared at you when you turned around to grab him a butterbeer from the table—lingering, fond, a little bit aching.

Much later, when you finally headed upstairs with a cheerful “Night, boys!” and a special wink at James, the common room grew quieter.

Remus waited until the portrait hole closed before speaking.

“Are you ever going to tell her?”

James was sprawled on the couch, staring at the spot where you’d been sitting. He didn’t even pretend not to understand.

“No.”

Remus closed his book. “Why?”

James was quiet for a long moment, hazel eyes distant and soft.

“Because I’d rather have her like this than not at all.”

The snow fell thick and soft over Potter Manor, blanketing the grounds in perfect, untouched white. Inside, the old stone house glowed with warmth—fireplaces crackling in nearly every room, fairy lights strung along the banisters, and the faint crackle of an old vinyl record spinning in the sitting room.

You had been coming here for Christmas since you were little, but this year felt different. The whole Marauders crew had been invited, and the manor felt more alive than ever.

Euphemia Potter spotted you the second you stepped through the front door with James. She swept you into a tight hug that smelled of cinnamon and vanilla, her hands cupping your face like you were one of her own.

“There’s my girl,” she said warmly, brushing snowflakes from your hair. “Honestly, James, why don’t you just propose already so I can call her my daughter properly?”

“Mum!” James groaned, ears instantly red. But he couldn’t hide the pleased little smile tugging at his lips as he watched the two of you.

Sirius, already acting like he’d lived at Potter Manor his entire life, sauntered past with his trunk floating behind him. “Don’t worry, Effie. I’m working on it. I make an excellent wedding planner.”

Fleamont chuckled from his armchair while Remus shook his head fondly and Peter happily accepted a plate of fresh mince pies from a house-elf.

The days leading up to Christmas were pure magic.

Mornings were spent in the snow—James dragging you outside for snowball fights where he “accidentally” protected you more than he attacked. Afternoons melted into chaotic card games around the massive oak table. Sirius and James were ruthless competitors, but you and Remus kept teaming up to destroy them. Every time you won a round, James would lean over and dramatically drape himself across your shoulders.

“You’re cheating,” he’d whisper in your ear, breath warm against your skin. “I don’t know how, but you’re definitely cheating.”

“I’m just better than you,” you’d tease back, and that warm, familiar feeling would bloom in your chest again. You really loved your best friend more than anything.

Evenings were your favorite.

The record player stayed on late—Frank Sinatra, Celestina Warbeck, and some old wizarding jazz standards. Hot chocolate flowed endlessly, topped with mountains of whipped cream and tiny floating marshmallows. One night, after everyone else had gone to bed, you and James stayed curled up on the big sofa in the sitting room, the fire casting golden light across the walls.

Your legs were tucked under you, his Quidditch jumper on again (he’d thrown it at you the second you complained about being cold). James had one arm stretched along the back of the sofa, fingers occasionally brushing your shoulder. The record had switched to something slow and gentle.

“You know,” he said softly, staring into the fire, “I think these are my favorite holidays. When everyone’s here. Especially you.”

You smiled, bumping your shoulder against his. “You say that like I’d ever miss it. Your mum would drag me here by the ears if I tried.”

James laughed quietly, but his gaze lingered on your face a second longer than usual. The firelight made his hazel eyes look almost golden. For a moment, the air felt thicker—like the space between you had shrunk without either of you moving.

You didn’t notice the way his fingers twitched like he wanted to reach out. You only felt that same steady warmth in your chest. Friendly love. Deep, unbreakable, best-friend love.

James swallowed and looked back at the fire.

“Stay up with me a bit longer?” he asked, voice quieter than normal.

“Always,” you answered easily.

The record kept spinning. Snow kept falling outside the tall windows. And the two of you stayed there, talking about nothing and everything—old summers by the pond, ridiculous pranks gone wrong, dreams for after Hogwarts—until the logs had burned low and your eyelids grew heavy.

James watched you fight sleep with the softest expression on his face, the one no one else ever got to see.

And if anyone had walked in at that exact moment—seeing you in his jumper, legs tangled together on the sofa, Sinatra crooning softly in the background—they would have assumed you had been dating for years.

But James only smiled sadly to himself, tucked the blanket a little tighter around you, and kept loving you quietly.

The rest of the house had mysteriously vanished after dinner.

Sirius had dragged Remus and Peter off with some weak excuse about “helping Effie with the puddings,” shooting James a not-so-subtle wink on his way out. You and James were left alone in the grand sitting room, surrounded by open boxes of ornaments, tangled tinsel, and the tall fir tree standing in front of the tall windows overlooking the snowy grounds.

Golden lamplight mixed with the glow from the fireplace, casting everything in a warm, cinematic haze. Frank Sinatra played softly on the old record player, his voice filling the comfortable quiet between you.

You worked side by side, the kind of easy rhythm you’d had since you were children. James lifted you by the waist so you could reach the higher branches, your hands brushing as you passed him baubles and strings of lights. Every touch felt a little warmer tonight.

“Remember the first Christmas we decorated together?” you asked, handing him a delicate glass snowflake. “We were six. Your mum let us use real magic and we turned half the ornaments into frogs.”

James laughed, the sound low and fond. “They kept jumping off the tree. Dad was furious but Mum thought it was the funniest thing she’d ever seen.” He hung the snowflake and glanced down at you. “You cried when one hopped into the fire.”

“I did not,” you protested, nudging his side.

“You absolutely did. I had to promise to catch you a new frog in the summer to make it better.”

You rolled your eyes but smiled. The teasing flowed naturally as you kept decorating—recalling snowball wars, the time James tried (and failed) to enchant the star to spin, the summer you both got in trouble for flying brooms too close to the neighbor’s garden.

At one point, James’s glasses slipped down his nose while he reached for a high branch. You stepped in without thinking and gently pushed them back up for him, your fingers brushing his temple.

“You’ve always taken care of me,” you said softly, still smiling. “Even when we were tiny and ridiculous.”

James lowered his arms and turned to look at you.

Really looked.

You stood there in the golden light, wearing his old jumper, tinsel caught in your hair, cheeks slightly flushed from the fire and laughter. The teasing smile on your face was the same one he’d known for over a decade — and suddenly it hit him harder than ever.

“God, I love you.”

The words slipped out, quiet and unguarded.

Silence.

James’s eyes widened in horror as he realized what he’d said. “Shit— I didn’t— I mean— obviously I love you, you’re my best friend, but that’s not— wait, no, it is— bloody hell, I’m messing this up—”

He spun away, face burning, nearly dropping the entire box of ornaments. His hands fumbled as he tried to recover. “You know what I mean, right? Or maybe you don’t— I shouldn’t have— fuck—”

“James,” you cut in, a soft laugh escaping you. “Shut up.”

He stopped rambling, turning back to you with wide, stunned eyes.

You gave him a small, amused smile. “I like you too, okay? Don’t worry about it.”

James just stared, completely flustered. His mouth opened, then closed. No clever comeback. No smooth reply. Just pure surprise and disbelief written all over his face.

Before he could find his voice, you picked up a soft, padded Christmas ornament and lightly tossed it at his head.

“We still have a tree to decorate, y’know,” you said, grinning.

The ornament bounced off him harmlessly. James blinked, then let out a startled laugh.

“Hey!” he shouted, grabbing another lightweight bauble and tossing it gently back at you. It sailed past your shoulder as you dodged, laughing.

The two of you stood there for a moment, ornaments in hand, the record still playing, the tension breaking into something lighter and warmer. James’s ears were still red, but the grin spreading across his face was real — relieved and happy in a way you’d rarely seen.

He rubbed the back of his neck, shaking his head. “You’re going to be the death of me.”

“Good,” you replied, turning back to the tree with a smirk. “Now pass me the star. We’re finishing this before your mum comes looking for us.”

James exhaled a shaky laugh and stepped closer again, the air between you buzzing with something new — but still undeniably you and James.

Hours later, long after the tree stood proudly decorated and the rest of the house had fallen asleep, the sitting room was wrapped in quiet magic.

Only the fireplace glowed now, its flames low and flickering, casting dancing shadows across the walls. The Christmas tree lights twinkled softly like captured stars, reflecting off tinsel and glass ornaments. Outside, snow continued to fall in thick, silent flakes past the tall windows. Sinatra’s record had come back around, playing the same slow, velvet song that had witnessed everything earlier that evening.

You and James were the only ones still awake.

He had taken your hand without a word, pulling you gently into the middle of the room. One dance, he’d murmured. Now your arms were wrapped around his neck, his hands resting at your waist as you swayed together in unhurried circles. Your bodies moved in perfect sync, barely more than a slow shift of weight. Your cheek rested against his chest, listening to the steady, slightly faster beat of his heart beneath his shirt. James held you like you were something precious — one hand splayed across your lower back, the other gently threaded with yours.

The song wrapped around you both. Every breath, every small shift brought you closer. You could feel the warmth of him through his jumper, smell the faint scent of cinnamon and firewood that always clung to him during the holidays. James’s thumb traced slow, absent circles on your back, and you felt him release a shaky exhale against your hair.

Slowly, you lifted your head.

James was already looking down at you. His hazel eyes caught the firelight, turning gold and warm. The usual mischief was gone — replaced by something deeper, vulnerable, and aching. His gaze dropped to your lips for a heartbeat before returning to your eyes, asking without words.

The air between you felt thick, charged. The rest of the world faded until it was only the two of you, the soft music, and years of almosts finally catching up.

James swallowed. His hand came up to cradle the side of your face, thumb brushing tenderly across your cheek. You leaned into the touch. He leaned down.

The kiss was everything.

It started impossibly soft — just a gentle press of lips, warm and hesitant, like he was still afraid you might vanish. Then it deepened, slow and reverent. His lips moved against yours with quiet longing, pouring in every unsaid “I love you” from the past few years. You tasted the faint sweetness of hot chocolate on him. Felt the slight tremble in his hands as they held your face like you were made of starlight. Your fingers curled into the hair at the nape of his neck, pulling him closer, and James sighed softly into the kiss, melting against you.

It wasn’t rushed or desperate. It was warm, full of love, and so achingly tender it made your chest ache. When you finally parted, barely an inch, both of you were breathing a little heavier. James rested his forehead against yours, eyes closed, a small, wonderstruck smile playing on his lips

Only one thought occupied his mind:

Maybe saying something stupid was the smartest thing I’ve ever done.

Then—

“OH MY GOD GUYS THEY’RE TOGETHER NOW!”

Peter stumbled into the room in rumpled pajamas, hair wild, eyes wide with sleepy shock. He pointed dramatically between the two of you, mouth hanging open.

“I knew it! I knew it! Wait till Sirius hears—”

“Pete!” James groaned, half-laughing as he kept one arm securely around your waist, cheeks flushed. You buried your face in James’s chest, laughter bubbling up against his shirt while footsteps and sleepy voices started echoing from upstairs.

James just pressed another quick, smiling kiss to the top of your head and held you tighter.

For years he had loved you in silence. Now, James swore he’d love you loudly for the rest of his life.

You stood from bed and slipped on your robe, hand reaching for the bat you kept beside your nightstand and made your way towards the hidden elevator. You had been sleeping so well, something you found difficult to do without your husband's large, warm body holding you, and found yourself annoyed at the wake-up.

Sure, Alfred must have woken up from the noise as well, but you could handle this intruder on your own. You weren't Batman's wife without learning a thing or two about self-defense.

As soon as you landed on your desired floor, you quietly stepped out, eyes roving about for any sign of burglary or vandalism. Pacified, you continued further, bat held up by your shoulder in preparation to strike if needed.

You were only confused by one thing.

Bruce had access to all household security and would have been notified of the alarms immediately. He then would have shut everything down and called you to check things out. Nothing concerning his work slipped past him. He had even known when you used his stapler last week all because it had been facing the wrong direction.

And yet...you had no notifications on your phone and all of the instruments in his workspace were still in operation.

As you came closer to the mainframe, you found someone sitting in the chair, tapping at the keyboard and controls. And, to add to your confusion, they were wearing Bruce's uniform. Broad shoulders encased in his cape and cowl hiding any distinct facial features.

You hid behind a pillar and attempted to get a better look at the figure who had stolen your husband's identity. How the hell had they gotten past all of the defense Bruce had installed? How had they found his suit and decided to put it on for a try? Was this a new villain? One who was obsessed with-

"Computer," the figure spoke in a deep, uncannily-familiar voice, "turn on."

The screen remained blank.

"Computer, it's Batman. Turn on." The person tried again, causing you to hide a chuckle behind your hand. Despite this being a serious situation, you couldn't help but find it somewhat funny.

"Computer," the voice grew frustrated. "IronManSucks."

Your eyes widened.

No one besides Bruce, Alfred, and you knew the password to the mainframe. Who exactly was this criminal? You had to do something and had to do it now lest he find out something sensitive.

You stepped out from behind the pillar and raised your weapon higher then brought it down on the assailant's head just as he turned to you. "Oh! Hey Mrs. Wa-"

The bat cracked down on his head with a sickening thwack before splitting in two. You expected there to be blood or something but the assailant only said, "Ow," and blinked, unfazed.

Your eyes widened and you prepared to scream when they took the cowl off to reveal, "Clark!"

Bruce's longtime ally and Metropolis' beloved Superman, Clark Kent had become a close friend of yours and you were shocked to find him down here, dressed in the blacks of Batman and attempting to hack into the computer.

"What are you doing?!" you panted, nerves abuzz from the adrenaline.

Clark raked his fingers through his thick hair with a shy smile. "I didn't mean to bother anyone, really. I heard you come down but needed to-"

"Why are you dressed in that?" you interrupted, mind reeling.

He looked down at his chest where the bat symbol rested. "Oh, this old thing? Haha, Bruce asked me to cover for him while he's away on his business trip--as I'm sure you know, because you're his wife--because the Joker's been on the loose, which you also probably knew. And..." he cleared his throat at your sigh. "Well, he wanted me to cover for him, that's all."

"What did you need the computer for?"

"Writing up a report," he answered, cheeks pink. "I just didn't know how to turn it on."

You stepped past him to the keyboard and pressed the button on the side of the monitor, bringing the screen to life.

Clark worried his lip between his teeth. "Huh,"

"Bruce isn't as cryptic as he likes to think he is."

"You only say that because you're probably as brilliant as he is." Clark gave you a crooked smile.

You gave a small laugh. "Sorry for hitting you with a bat, by the way."

Clark shrugged, fingers typing up the report. "Sorry for breaking it. Kryptonian genes and all that. I'll buy you a new one."

"Don't worry about it. Bruce owes me a new one for not telling me you were taking over for him. I was only worried someone was trying to steal his identity down here."

"You really think I'd let someone do that?"

You and Clark looked around the room for Bruce at the sound of his voice but found nothing when, "Turn the camera on, sweetheart."

You did so and Bruce's face filled the computer screen. He was clearly in a suite room, back against the headboard, dress shirt unbuttoned with an amused smirk on his handsome face.

Clark gasped. "You were watching me the entire time!"

Bruce chuckled deeply. "Why spoil the fun? Did they not have computer class at Smallville high school?'

"You've had too much fun with me already, I'm not giving you further incentive." Clark grumbled, displeased with the humiliation he'd been caught under.

You poked a finger into the screen as if poking Bruce's actual body. "You weren't going to tell me about this switch?"

"You've been under so much stress, I didn't want to make you worry." Bruce's blue eyes softened.

"You owe me a new bat."

"I know, doll." He looked to Clark. "I know it won't be effective but cover your ears and look away while I talk to my wife, won't you?"

Clark did so, ever the dutiful gentleman.

Bruce focused back on you, eyes taking on a wolfish gleam. You couldn't help but look at his shoulders, imagining the feel of their strength under your fingers. Oh, how you missed him.

"You just get back to the hotel?" you asked, missing your husband despite only having been away from him for a few days.

Bruce ran a strong hand through his raven hair. "Just finished with a conference but I have one later this evening. How are you holding up? Are you taking care of yourself?"

"I am," you promise, knowing that if you weren't then he would.

"When I get back, I'll take extra care of you, yes?" he cocked a black eyebrow in wait for your response.

A breathy, "Yes, Bruce," fell from your lips. You couldn't wait to have him back in your bed, where he belonged, and attending to your needs.

He gave a hum of approval and purred, "Now go back to bed and get some sleep, sweetheart. You're going to have a long day tomorrow and it's late and Clark and I have some business to discuss."

Not one to disobey your husband's orders, you nodded and blew him a kiss. "Night Brucey."

"Night, doll."

As you left the cave, mind occupied on when Bruce returned, you caught their faint conversation.

"She could have done some real harm if I wasn't invincible." Clark said. "You've got a real woman there."

"Are you trying to butter me up with compliments about my wife so that I forget you don't know how to turn a computer on?"

The elevator doors closed as you heard Clark groan.

Bruce Wayne as Superman

Clark had a very special routine after patrols.

It involved coddling, cuddling, and reassurance. Despite being invincible and having inhuman abilities, Clark was a simple man under all of his pretenses and he enjoyed nothing more than his wife's affection.

Tonight was no different when he returned from yet another bout with Braniac who had attempted to infiltrate Star Labs newest data center. Fortunately, with the help of Bruce Wayne, Clark had been able to defeat him without causing too much collateral damage. It helped that the billionaire vigilante was an expert with technology.

You were sleeping in bed when he came home. Usually, he produced noise so as to not surprise you but this time he was nearly silent. If you hadn't heard him grumbling under his breath, you wouldn't have known he was back.

"-if it were any tighter, I'd be sterile come morning."

You sat up in bed, rubbing your eyes. "Clark?"

The broad figure stopped in the middle of the doorway, the nightlight from the hallway barely illuminating behind him and casting his silhouette on the bed.

"What are you mumbling about?" you asked in a groggy voice.

Your husband remained silent, a sure sign that you had a long night of pampering tonight ahead of you.

You reached out for him. "Come to bed, baby."

The figure cleared his throat and said in a strangely deep voice, "No thanks...piglet."

You blinked and, although thrown off by his endearment?, you crawled to the edge of the bed and grabbed his hand, drawing him closer. He smelled different. Richer than his usual sandalwood scent.

"Want me to be the big spoon, Clarky?" you rubbed your hand up his bicep, massaging the oddly tense muscles there. Had everything gone alright with Braniac earlier? Clark was usually an open book but now he seemed hesitant.

A short scoff fell from his lips. "Of course he would be little spoon," he murmured under his breath.

"Clark Joseph Kent." You said sternly, much too tired to guess at what stint he was pulling. "What is going on?"

Clark started backing out of the bedroom but you were quicker, leaning over to tug on the lamp string and bring light into the room.

"Bruce!" you screamed, scrambling for the bed sheets to hide your nightgown-clad body.

This must be some weird dream. Bruce Wayne dressed in your husband's uniform was not normal.

Bruce held up his hands, an uncharacteristic flush on his cheeks. Usually, the playboy had a little more suave. "I'm not some creep, I swear. I was just coming in to grab something for Clark."

"And, what exactly, is Clark wearing if you've got that," you nod to his outfit, "on?"

"He's wearing my batsuit, of course."

Of course, of course...as if it were the only reasonable explanation.

"So Clark sent you in here to grab something for him? Did he forget his wife was sleeping!"

The uncomfortable look on Bruce's face would have been funny any other time but you were exhausted and so so so confused.

"We were attempting to deceive Braniac by switching places." He explained, fingers pulling at the spandex around his hip. "Clark is finishing up the deactivation process and asked me to come to your apartment to grab some treats for Krypto."

To be fair, it sounded a lot like Clark to do that. He adored that dog to pieces and probably thought you would be deeply asleep to not notice somebody sleuthing through his things.

"Aren't you a master in stealth?" you asked, rubbing your forehead. "You were quite loud for a man who was trained by assassins."

Bruce scowled, his cool demeanor falling back into place. "How does your husband stand having his balls compressed like this?" he tugged at the spandex again. "It's emasculating."

"It holds everything in place while I'm flying." Clark said as he came in from the hallway, hair askew as if he'd just flown in. He immediately made a beeline for you and pressed a kiss to your forehead. "Sorry we woke you up, honey."

You pointed an accusing finger at Bruce. "It was him."

Clark sighed and looked at the suspect. "I thought I asked you to be quiet?"

"You did. It's just that this outfit is cutting off circulation to my favorite appendages."

Clark's hands clamped around your head but you could still hear him say, "Don't talk about your appendages around my wife."

Bruce only rolled his eyes and jerked a thumb to the bathroom. "Mind if I change out of this? You did get everything finished, right?"

Clark nodded and Bruce left you two alone. You knelt at the edge of the bed and put your arms around your husband's neck, bringing him down so you could kiss him. "Don't you ever pull another stunt like that again, you hear? Or I'll give you another reason to tighten those shorts."

Clark nodded enthusiastically, thumbs massaging your hip. "O-of course, honey."

"I asked the man if he wanted to be the little spoon, for heaven's sake." You squeak, burying your face in his broad chest.

"That will humiliate me more than you." He promised, kissing the crown of your head before laying you back down on your pillows. "Now go back to sleep and I'll be back. I just need to get these treats to Krypto and debrief with Bruce quickly."

You let him pull the covers over your body. "You get to be big spoon tonight."

"I know."

As he turned off the lamp and shut the door, you heard Bruce exit the bathroom and the low tone of their voices.

"Where'd you put the treats, piglet?" Clark asked, clearly having heard the conversation with his super hearing.

Bruce harrumphed. "Sounded like something you'd say, farm boy."

The soft ticking of the watch on his wrist felt louder now, mocking him. Seven o’clock reservations had become seven-thirty nearly twenty minutes prior, and somewhere downtown an irritated maître d’ was undoubtedly giving their table away to someone else. Bruce had specifically cleared tonight for her. No meetings. No patrol until later. No Wayne Foundation calls. Just dinner. Just her.

And despite all of that, despite the irritation simmering quietly beneath his composed exterior, he still couldn’t truly find it in himself to care.

Because he knew what was coming.

He knew eventually that bathroom door would open, and she would walk out looking devastating enough to make him forget every coherent thought in his head.

She always did.

Bruce tipped his head back against the chair and exhaled slowly through his nose, staring up at the ceiling as he rolled the whiskey over his tongue. He could hear her moving around again, muttering something under her breath, followed by an annoyed huff.

A smile threatened at the corner of his mouth despite himself.

The bathroom door finally opened.

Bruce looked up immediately.

And there she was.

Every ounce of annoyance vanished so quickly it almost embarrassed him.

She stepped out carefully, one hand braced against the doorframe while the other adjusted the fabric hugging her waist, and Bruce felt something in his chest tighten with dangerous intensity. The dress clung to her like it had been made specifically for her body, elegant and dark, the kind of thing designed to ruin men quietly. Soft skin glowed beneath the warm bedroom lighting, her hair falling around her shoulders in effortless waves that probably took far too much effort to create.

Bruce’s gaze dragged over her slowly, helplessly.

God.

“I’m sorry, my love,” she sighed dramatically, though the smile tugging at her lips ruined any sincerity. “I was struggling with my zipper.” Her eyes met his then, warm and teasing. “Help me?”

Bruce set his glass down carefully before he did something reckless like shatter it in his grip.

Without a word, he sat forward in the chair as she crossed the room toward him, heels clicking softly against the hardwood floors. She stopped directly in front of him before turning around, sweeping all her hair over one shoulder to expose the bare line of her back and the half-zipped dress hanging scandalously low.

Bruce’s jaw tightened.

His hands found her hips instinctively, large and warm against the silk fabric, and he guided her backward until she settled onto his lap with a soft laugh.

“Bold,” she murmured.

Bruce barely heard her.

His attention was fixed entirely on the exposed skin inches from his face.

Slowly, deliberately, he reached for the zipper.

His fingers brushed against the small of her back first, and he felt her shiver instantly beneath his touch. That alone nearly undid him. Bruce pulled the zipper upward at an agonizing pace, eyes following every inch as the fabric closed together little by little. Not because it needed to take that long.

But because he wanted an excuse to touch her.

To look at her.

To keep her exactly where she was.

Once the zipper reached the top, Bruce’s hand lingered there. His fingers flattened gently against the back of her neck before he leaned forward, pressing a slow kiss against her shoulder.

The tension in the room shifted immediately.

“Do we have to go?” he asked quietly against her skin.

She smiled instantly, hearing exactly what hid beneath his voice.

“What do you mean?” she asked innocently, though amusement danced in her tone. “Of course we do. It’s date night.”

Bruce’s hands tightened almost imperceptibly around her waist.

“I know.” His voice dropped lower, rougher now. “But we’re already thirty minutes late.” Another kiss brushed against her shoulder, slower this time. “The restaurant has probably given our table away.” His nose skimmed lightly along the curve of her neck. “And I know I just helped put this dress on but…”

He trailed off deliberately.

Because his hands were already moving.

One slid from her waist to her thigh, fingers spreading over bare skin where the slit of her dress exposed her leg. The other traveled upward, gliding along her waist before settling against her stomach, holding her firmly against him.

She felt warm.

Too warm.

Bruce lowered his head again, pressing another kiss just beneath her ear, and her breathing hitched softly.

That sound nearly destroyed whatever restraint he had left.

“Bruce,” she warned, though the laugh in her voice weakened the effect entirely.

“Hm?”

“We’re supposed to be going out.”

“We can reschedule.”

“You made those reservations two months ago.”

“I’ll buy the restaurant.”

That made her laugh properly.

A real laugh.

Bruce finally allowed himself to smile against her skin, eyes closing briefly as he soaked in the sound of it. God, he loved that sound. More than the quiet of the manor. More than victory. More than sleep after patrol. Her laughter was one of the few things in the world capable of silencing every violent thought in his head.

“You cannot buy every problem away,” she informed him.

Bruce leaned back slightly, finally looking at her face.

“Yes, I can.”

The confidence in his tone made her roll her eyes affectionately, but Bruce noticed the way her cheeks warmed beneath his stare. He always noticed. Bruce noticed everything about her.

The way her pulse fluttered at the base of her throat when he looked at her too long.

The way she unconsciously leaned into his touch even while pretending to resist him.

The way her lips parted slightly whenever his hands settled on her waist.

He knew her tells better than he knew his own.

And right now?

Right now she was seconds away from giving in.

Bruce rested his forehead lightly against her shoulder and exhaled slowly, his voice quieter when he spoke again.

“You look beautiful.”

Not flirtatious.

Not teasing.

Honest.

That was what made her fall silent.

Bruce Wayne was charming with everyone else. Effortlessly charismatic. Polished. Untouchable. But with her, the act disappeared. What remained was something rarer and infinitely more dangerous: sincerity.

He looked at her like he truly couldn’t believe she existed.

And maybe he still couldn’t.

His fingers brushed slowly up her arm as his gaze moved over her face again, softer now.

“I spent the entire week looking forward to tonight,” he admitted. “Not the restaurant. Not the reservations. Just…this.”

Her expression melted a little at that.

Bruce noticed immediately.

Of course he did.

His thumb traced slowly along her thigh again before he leaned closer, voice turning quieter, intimate enough to make heat curl low in her stomach.

“So forgive me if I’m struggling to care about dinner when you’re sitting on my lap looking like this.”

Y/n smiled while shifting carefully on his lap, she turned until she was facing him fully, one leg sliding along either side of his thighs as her hands rose to cradle his face. The sharp angles of Bruce Wayne always softened beneath her touch. His jaw unclenched first. Then his shoulders. Then those impossibly pretty eyes lifted to hers with that quiet intensity that still made her chest tighten after all this time.

She leaned down and kissed him gently.

The kind of kiss that lingered.

Bruce immediately chased after it when she pulled away, his mouth brushing hers once more before she could speak, clearly unwilling to let her go that easily.

“How about,” she began softly, her thumbs brushing along the stubble shadowing his jaw, “we go to the restaurant…” Another small kiss touched the corner of his mouth. “I’m sure they’ll magically find a table for Mister Bruce Wayne.”

Bruce huffed quietly through his nose, neither confirming nor denying the very obvious truth of that statement.

“We’ll eat their ridiculously overpriced pasta,” she continued, smiling now, “drink wine we’ll both pretend we can actually taste the difference between, and have a wonderful time.”

Bruce’s eyes never left her face.

Not once.

The attention was almost unbearable when he looked at her like this. Like the rest of the world had ceased existing the moment she climbed into his lap.

“And then,” she whispered, leaning closer, “we’ll come home.”

Her lips brushed his jaw.

Bruce’s grip on her waist tightened immediately.

She felt it.

Enjoyed it.

Slowly, deliberately, she pressed another kiss beneath his ear before trailing them upward, lingering just long enough to feel the subtle hitch in his breathing.

“And then,” she murmured directly against his ear, “you can take this dress off me, hm?”

The silence that followed was heavy.

Not empty.

Heavy.

Bruce’s hands spread wider against her waist, large enough to nearly span it completely, and his head tilted slightly as he looked at her with an expression that was becoming increasingly dangerous.

“Or,” he said slowly, voice roughened into something velvet-deep and unfairly attractive, “we skip dinner entirely…”

One hand slid from her waist to the small of her back, pulling her flush against him.

“…and cut straight to the part where I take the dress off.”

The bluntness of it made heat bloom across her cheeks.

There it was.

Not billionaire Bruce Wayne smiling for cameras.

Not Gotham’s charming prince.

Just Bruce.

Direct. Certain. Possessive in a way he only ever allowed himself to be with her.

Y/n rolled her eyes despite the smile tugging at her lips. “We’re going.”

Bruce stared at her for a long moment.

Genuinely stared.

Like he was reevaluating every life decision that had led him to this exact moment.

Then, with all the exhausted dramatics of a man being sent unwillingly to war, his head tipped backward against the chair and a long sigh escaped him.

It was such an exaggerated sigh that she nearly laughed again.

“You’re very cruel to me,” he muttered darkly.

“Mm,” she hummed. “You’ll survive. You’ve survived worse.”

Bruce’s gaze slid back to her immediately, entirely unconvinced.

“Debatable.”

That one earned him a laugh.

A real one.

Soft and bright and warm enough to pull the faintest smile from him in return.

God.

Bruce would burn cities down for that sound.

She slid carefully off his lap before he could change her mind—or before she changed it herself—and smoothed the fabric of her dress back into place. The silk settled perfectly against her body as she turned toward the mirror near the doorway to check her appearance one last time.

Behind her, Bruce remained seated.

Watching.

Shamelessly.

Completely shamelessly.

His eyes tracked her every movement with open appreciation, dark and unwavering as they moved over the elegant line of her spine, the curve of her waist, the soft sway of her hips beneath the dress he had been seconds away from peeling off her body himself.

Most men looked casually.

Briefly.

Bruce never did anything briefly.

He looked at her like a man committing artwork to memory before someone stole it away from him.

Like every glance mattered.

Like he still couldn’t fully believe she was real, let alone his.

And perhaps some wounded, guarded part of Bruce truly never would.

Because this—domesticity, softness, love uncomplicated by blood or violence—had never belonged in his world before her.

Yet there she stood in his bedroom, fixing an earring while his tie sat crooked because she’d distracted him fifteen minutes earlier.

Normal.

Beautiful.

His.

“Come on, Wayne,” she called finally, reaching for her clutch.

Bruce rose from the chair with the kind of effortless grace that always made him look dangerous even in a tailored suit. Six-foot-something of broad shoulders, expensive cologne, old money confidence, and concealed violence wrapped neatly beneath black Tom Ford.

He adjusted the cuffs of his jacket before tugging once at his tie.

Then he paused.

A nearly invisible grimace crossed his face as he subtly adjusted the front of his trousers.

Y/n caught it instantly.

Her eyes widened in amusement.

“Oh my God.”

Bruce looked entirely unapologetic.

“You whispered in my ear,” he said flatly, as though that explained everything.

“It was one sentence.”

“It was a very effective sentence.”

She bit down on her smile as Bruce grabbed his wallet from the dresser and crossed the room toward her, every movement composed despite the situation he was currently blaming entirely on her.

When he reached her, he rested one hand against the small of her back automatically, grounding himself there like second nature.

“This,” he muttered as he guided her toward the bedroom door, “is going to be a very long night.”

The smirk she sent him over her shoulder was downright lethal.

“Hopefully.”

©𝓐𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘭𝘱𝘦𝘥𝘪𝘢𝘢. do not copy, translate, or repost my work on any other sites without my permission. 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭.

You’re not sure why you even agreed to attend this gala tonight. Dick had insisted you come, you two hadn’t gone together in forever, it would be like old times. But the point that undoubtedly convinced you was the mention of his siblings being there, specifically Jason.

Jason and you had only seen each other a few times since the break up. You mutually decided to end things about two months ago, when one night he came back from patrol broken and bruised, continuing to push you away the following nights until neither of you knew what to do anymore.

You didn’t want to break up with him then, not really. It was just that neither of you saw a way forward without breaking each other, even if the love was there.

Snapping back into the moment, you catch Tim waving you over, standing next to Steph and Cass who are both trying not to look suspicious as they stuff a napkin full off pastries from the buffet.

You place a soft hand on Dick’s shoulder to gain his attention, and with a polite “Excuse me.” you move away from them and through the crowd, letting out a sigh as you drop your shoulders and the smile on your face.

“Hi guys.” you smile softly as you come to stand beside them, though it doesn’t quite reach your eyes.

Cass and Steph throw you a quick smile, Steph cheesing at you through a mouthful of cake. “Here.” Tim hands you a glass of champagne. “You looked like you needed an out.”

You laugh, taking the glass from him and sipping quietly. “You’re right.” you shake your head. “I‘m not even sure why I came.”

Tim grins at you, and you can tell there’s something he’s not saying. “Well, I am.”

“Huh?” your head snap up at his words. Tim’s grin just widens a fraction at what he says next. “He just went to find some peace and quiet.”

Your brows furrow, although you have a feeling you already know who he’s talking about. “He?” you question with a soft voice.

“Jason.” he states, and his expression softens at the same time he notices yours. “He’s here?” you swallow, trying not to let your emotions show.

“Yeah. B did him a favor recently and this is him returning it.” Tim explains. “But he got a bit overwhelmed so he left to go somewhere quiet.”

Tim doesn’t mention that Jason left moments after spotting you.

„Oh.“ is all you can say before taking another sip of your champagne. Tim, Cass and Steph notice your mood shift at the mention of Jason, sharing a quiet look.

“You wann try the pastries? They even have your favorite!” Steph exclaims, trying to lighten the mood. You smile at her thankfully, but softly shake your head, declining. The knot in your stomach doesn’t leave room for any food.

Time flies as you stand with the three of them, trying to put Jason on the back of your mind as you focus on Tim telling his stories from work and Cass telling you about her ballet recital.

Eventually, the three of you drift apart, Tim now stuck in a business talk with old men, meanwhile Steph and Cass have moved over to the other side of the room, listening in on a couple that seems to be arguing.

With a quick scan of the room, you begin your walk to the foyer. You don’t see a point in staying here anymore when everyone is busy, your heels are killing you, and the one person you hoped to see is basically hiding from you. The rest of them would care if you left early, you’d just send them a text tomorrow.

After getting your coat from the checkroom, you pull it over your shoulders as you step out. You just need a moment of fresh air before maybe asking Alfred to drive you home. Or maybe you will just call an Uber. Your lost in your thoughts as you contemplate your ride home, not noticing the person standing behind you.

“Leaving already?”

You spin around, immediately recognizing the voice. Your gaze travels over him, watching him stand there, the tie of his suit a little bit undone, a grand of hair falling across his forehead, his hands tucked into his pockets.

“Jason.” you breathe out, stunned by his presence.

He moves forward in slow steps, his hands still in buried in his pockets, taking his last step so he’s standing right in front of you. It’s silent as the two of you stare at each other, your eyes saying a million words the both of you can’t seem to form.

“You look nice.” you state with a soft voice, almost whispering, scared of ruining this moment. He’s quit as he takes in your words, and you almost think that this is it, he’ll turn around and leave you standing out here, feeling dumb for believing the two of you could talk normally.

You notice his throat moving as he swallows before he answers. “You look… beautiful.”

And although the two of you broke up, as you feel the blood rush into your cheeks, you know exactly why you fell for him.

“Why’d you come tonight?” he asks, trying to let this be a conversation. “Dick asked me to come.” you admit, noticing his expression fall ever so slightly as he lets out a quiet “oh.”

“But really I hoped you’d be here.” you blurt out not being able to stop yourself, wanting to say anything to make the almost hurt expression on his face go away. You never want to see him hurt.

“Yeah?” His voice is hopeful, his eyes lightening up in that unnoticeable way only you seem to catch. “Yeah.” you confirm along with a soft nod.

Its silent again, both of you too stuck in your own heads to say what’s really on your minds. Jason is the first one to speak up. “We… do you think we can talk sometime?” he asks nervously. “About us, I mean.”

You’re taken by surprise as the words leave his mouth but definitely not opposed. You’ve always felt like there were things left unsaid. “Of course we can talk. You know you can always talk to me.”

He nods, another stand of his hair falling across his forehead as he looks down, and you get the sudden urge to brush it away, running your fingers through his hair like you used to.

“You look really beautiful, by the way.” he tells you quietly as he meets your eyes. You laugh softly, shaking your head at his antics. “You already said that.”

He shrugs as a small, smug grin begins to form on his lips. “I know, can’t help it.”

Jason removes his hands from his pockets, but doesn’t step closer, just letting the simple gesture be a way to feel closer. “Do you need a ride home? I can drive you.”

“Oh, ” You’re surprised by his offer. “it’s okay. I can call someone. Or I‘ll ask Alfred.”

He scoffs slightly at that. “You know better than to call a cab this late in Gotham.” He crosses his arms hon from of his chest, and you can’t help but notice how the fabric of his suit strains against his biceps.

“Alfred is busy. Come one, I‘ll give you a ride.” he nods his head in the direction where his car is parked, before he takes off, not looking back to see if you’re following him.

You do, taking step after step, watching Jason’s back as he walks only a step in front of you. He moves to the passenger side, opening the door for you like he’s always done when the two of you would drive somewhere. You send him a thankful smile before getting in the car. You watch as Jason makes sure your dress isn’t stuck in the door as he closes it softly, afterwards making his way around to the drivers side.

The silence doesn’t feel heavy as he starts the car, beginning the drive to your apartment, although you think maybe it should, but it just feels like it used to. It’s a weird feeling, being in a space you left behind but still seeing pieces of yourself. Like the pomegranate chapstick still sitting in the cupholder or the hair ties Jason went out of his way to buy you just so you could keep some in his car.

“What are you thinking about?” Jason’s voice rips you out of your thoughts. He’s got both his hands on the steering wheel, his head faced forwards, his eyes occasionally glancing at you.

“Just… us, I guess.” you shrug, avoiding meeting his eyes as you lay your focus on the city lights that now come into view.

“Us?” he repeats, his voice unmistakably softening. “Do you think there’s still an us?” he asks, half of him wanting, no, needing to know the answer, half of him afraid of your response.

“I think there will always be an us.” you state, now moving your eyes away from the scenery and back to him. You continue as he listens. “Wether it’s past us, or current us, you’ll alway be the most important person in my life, Jay.”

He’s silent after that, and you could swear you see his eyes glistening more than usual, but you don’t comment on it.

As the familiar view of your street comes into sight, you prepare yourself for this being it. This is probably the most you two will talk to each other before it’s back to avoiding the pain of seeing each other, asking others about how you or he’s doing.

Jason quickly finds a parking spot, unfastening his seatbelt as he gets out of the car, making his way around to open the door for you. He offers you his hand and you can’t help but stare like an idiot before taking it. His calloused hand feels warm against yours, and letting go feels like the hardest thing you’ve ever had to to.

“Thank you for the ride.” you tell him. He just mumbles a small “Of course.” before the silence takes over. You think maybe one of you will be brave enough to say something, but the silence continues to grow, so you offer a small smile before turning around and taking the first step to your apartment.

Bu then he calls out your name, and you swear your heart stops for a beat. You turn around to face him, watching as he takes quick steps to stand in front of you. His gaze scans your face, from the corner of your mouth to your nose to your eyes and back to your mouth. A million words are rushing around his brain. “I want to try again.” he finally breathes out.

You’re stunned as you take in his words, but you can’t help the soft tug of your lips as you feel some relief from his words. “You do?” you question, wanting to make sure this is not a dream.

He swallows, nodding almost eagerly as he answers. “I do. Breaking up with you, making you leave me, that was the worst thing I could have done to you. And it made me feel like shit to see you so hurt all because of me, that I pushed you away instead of talking to you.”

He shakes his head as you try to respond. “I know that you deserve better, but I want to be better for you. Losing you made me realize that I don’t want to live a life without you in it. So please, only if you’ll have me, I want to love you better this time.” he admits, his voice subtly shaking as he squeezes his hands into fists. You can see all the emotions coming out and him not knowing how to express them.

You take a deep breath, feeling an overwhelming amount of emotions running through your whole body. But the one that’s most prominent is the love you feel for the man standing in front of you.

Jason can’t read you face as he watches you take in his words. He hopes his nightmares don’t come true, that you’ll tell him you’ll never love him again, that he’s not worth trying again, not worth your time, not worthy of you. He can feel his nerves rising as he prepares himself for rejection, but instead he’s met with your soft voice asking “Do you want to come upstairs?”

You look up at him, waiting on his answer as you watch him take your question in. Then he’s nodding his head yes, and you grab his hand as you lead him upstairs while he follows behind you. One thing leads to another, and you find yourself kissing him against the closed door of your apartment, eager hands brushing his suit jacket off his shoulder and tugging his tie off his neck. He leads you to your couch, his hands gripping your waist. He still knows your apartment, and your body, like the back of his hand.

You rumble down on the couch, him carefully leaning above you as he moves his kisses down to your neck. “Jay.” you breathe out, tilting your head to give him more space. “I missed you so much.” he sighs, bring his lips back against your while his hand travels up your thigh. “I‘ll never push you away again, I promise.”

He hums softly in agreement to your previous statement, continuing to get lost in the scene that is playing.

Both of you are ripped out of your cozy atmosphere by the ringing of your doorbell.

“I’ll get it.” you exclaim energetically, wiggling out from under his arm as you get up. Him and you both know that it must be the food you ordered almost an hour ago. Burgers. Jason’s choice, of course.

As you make your way to the door, you can feel Jason’s gaze following your steps. You know that he’s always as careful as he can be, especially when it comes to you. You never know what kind of people may be showing up at your doorstep, even if it’s just to deliver food.

“Jaylove? Do you have cash for a tip?” you question, turning to face where he’s now sitting facing the door, his shoulders squared broad and his legs spread. You know he would look menacing to whoever would stand at the door and see him behind you, glaring.

“My wallet‘s in my jacket pocket.” he answers, his voice soft in comparison to the way he holds his body.

You huff quietly, rolling your eyes at his antics while your turn to where his jacket is hung up next to the door, reaching into his pocket. Even if you think he’s being dramatic, you love him for it. That’s why you can’t help the smile creeping across your face as you turn back around, now with his wallet clutched in your hand.

Before you can make a teasing remark, the whole interaction is cut off with a knock at the door, and you quickly open it to find your delivery driver holding out the bag of food to you.

You exchange a quick greeting as you take the bag and press a five dollar bill in his hand, and he thank you quietly before he’s already on his way again.

With the bag of food in one hand, and Jason’s wallet in the other, you gently nudge the door closed with your hip, turning to make your way into the kitchen, when a small piece of paper catches your eyes.

Maneuvering his wallet into the same hand holding the bag, you quickly bend down and pick it up.

Now that you can see it up close, you recognize that it’s a receipt. Specificity, the receipt of the first time the two of you went out together.

You still remember how nervous you were, finally crossing the line from friends to something more.

You still remember how nervous Jason was, trying not to let it show but failing miserably as he stumbled over his words and almost knocked over his drink.

You still remember insisting that you could split the bill, but he insisted on paying for you the both of you.

And you still remember how the two of you doodled together on the back of the receipt while waiting for the waiter to come back.

Meanwhile in the kitchen, Jason is now getting plates out of the both of you. When he notices you not moving, he looks up, softly calling out to you. “Baby? You coming?”

You’re snapped out of your memories by his voice, and you look up to find him watching you already. Then his eyes drift down to what you’re holding.

He raises a brow. “What‘d you got there?”

Eyes crinkling, a cheesy smile lights up your face as your mouth forms a subtle pout.

Moving towards him, you set the bag and his wallet down on the counter across from him.

“You kept the receipt from our first date?” you question softly, even though you know the answer already. In a split second, you see his face going from confusion, to embarrassment, finally ending up in a sheepish expression.

“That’s so fucking cute, Jason.” you tell him straight up, already knowing he’s searching for the right way to explain himself. But you don’t need him to.

His eyes widen slightly in surprise. “It is? I thought you’d think it would be… weird.” He confesses.

“What?” you exclaim. “No way! Why would that be weird?”

He just shrugs, shyly avoiding your gaze. You round the counter, now taking his face inbetween the palms of your hands, tilting his head so he’s forced to meet your eyes.

Your smile brightens when you notice the flush on his cheeks. God, he looks so cute you just want to squeeze him.

“That’s really sweet of you, baby. I mean it.“ you express.

Jason mirrors your smile, if somewhat smaller. “I‘m glad.” he admits. “I’ve kept it in my wallet since that night. Right next to the picture of you.”

He swallows before he continues. “Sometimes I take it out and just look at it, and I’m reminded of our first date. That was arguably the best day of my life back then, and it always reminds me what I’m coming home to.” he shrugs sheepishly, like he didn’t just made your eyes well up only with words.

You could melt right there and then at his confession. Instead, you move your hands away from his face and place them around his waist, pressing yourself against him in a hug. You squeeze your eyes shut as you nuzzle your face into his chest.

Jason is a little taken aback, but when he realized what you’re doing, he sees no other option but to wrap his arms around you, too.

The two of you stay like this for a while, before Jason hears a small sniff coming from you. He pulls his head back, trying to catch a glimpse of your face. “Are you crying?”

The only response he gets is silence, that’s then interrupted by another small sniff and a quiet “No.” from you.

He chuckles, shaking his head as he presses a long kiss on top of your head. “Come on, let’s eat.”

You pull back, quickly wiping under your eyes. Then you place on hand in the side of his face as you lean up, placing a quick peck on the opposite cheek. “I love you, Jason.” you smile, before turning to finally unbox the food from the bag.