#shoutout to the two other people that like both of these things ily

[quinn-pop]

more ll kirbyposting because im silly !!!

some liella things

yea that last one is a redraw of this. never getting over this scene

[stardustvanfleet]

Keep Silent - Jake Kiszka x F!Reader

SMUT. 18+ ONLY! MDNI!!!

PAIRING: Jake Kiszka x F!Reader

WORDS: 7.5k

SUMMARY: It's been raining for days on end, and your boyfriend Jake suggests a romantic trip to the library to help pass the time. Knowing him, however, things don't stay innocent and cozy for long.

WARNINGS: Dom!Jake. Exhibitionist/voyeur kink, fingering, filthy dirty talk with lots of degradation (slut, whore, dirty, desperate...) and praise (pretty girl, good girl, sweet girl, etc). Rough unprotected sex.

A/N: OKAY, WOW.... this fic is a long time coming. I've been working on this one for the last couple of months and I am so unbelievably excited to share it with all of you. First of all, I have to make some shoutouts-- this fic is dedicated to @jakesguitarsolo as a VERY late birthday present, ILY Jess!!! And an EXTREMELY special thanks to my beta reader and actual moon to my sun @sinsofstardust .... so many of my ideas are built alongside your equally dirty mind. I LOVE YOU COURT!! Another special thanks to @sparrowofthedawnsworld for all the encouragement as I slowly wrote out this passion project, ILY Sparrow!!! And thank you all for being so patient and reading my work... this is so incredibly fucking self-indulgent, I can't even begin to express. FIC BEGINS BELOW THE CUT!

It had been raining for over a week.

Not just a drizzle, either— it was day after day of heavy winds and sheets of rain that lashed at the window panes, with any view of the sky repeatedly choked out by lumbering, ominous gray clouds.

It wasn’t that you particularly minded rain, not really, but after days on end of being stuck indoors, the cabin fever was beginning to get to you. The apartment you shared with your boyfriend, Jake, was on the small side, and you’d already had to reschedule numerous date ideas this week that would’ve only been possible had you been able to go outside.

He must’ve noticed how antsy you had been getting, however, and today, he had a new idea— suggesting a trip to the library to pick out some books to read and movies to take home, to help pass the time while you waited for this goddamn endless rain to pass you by.

You had been so grateful for his suggestion, and not just because the weather outdoors had been making things feel a little too much like Groundhog Day. The thought of snuggling up with Jake in a cozy library for a while, reading your books and people-watching, was certainly enough to make the rain feel a little more appealing.

That had been during breakfast, a couple of hours ago. After the both of you had showered and gotten changed into some comfortable clothes worthy of a lazy Sunday but stylish enough to go out in, Jake had driven the two of you to the public library. His playlist of vintage rock was the soundtrack to your leisurely drive through the rain, but despite the unhurried pace and relaxed atmosphere, he didn’t waste any time before his flirtatious touches began– his left hand on the wheel, the right settling to rest on your upper thigh.

The touch could’ve perhaps been interpreted as innocent, but Jake clearly had other plans for the physical contact. He gently flexed his fingers, squeezing your thigh just enough for you to notice, smiling to himself at your tiny, sharp intake of breath… but never once taking his eyes off the road. All of a sudden, your heartbeat was skyrocketing. What a fucking tease.

He didn’t escalate things any further, but the feeling of his touch was nevertheless electric. As always, once he got your heart racing, it was near impossible for you to get your pulse to slow— just one example out of so many that revealed the effect he had on you. Once he got your mind in the gutter, his presence alone became something that could make you squirm. With a rush of heat to your lower stomach, you wondered if that had been his plan all along.

Your heart and mind were still going a mile a minute even a quarter of an hour later, when the two of you walked into the library hand-in-hand, heading towards the display of new fiction. As you two browsed through the titles, you found yourself taking numerous glances over at him, feeling unable to help it. He was wearing one of his softest shirts, buttoned just barely higher than usual, with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, flipping through a dystopian novel with interest in his expression. His hair looked so soft… you loved those two silver necklaces dangling enticingly from his neck… and you were still close enough to take in the scent of his cologne.

While your eyes were on him, his gaze flashed up from the page, a knowing smirk forming on his face upon catching you staring. Your face immediately flushed with heat, realizing how lost in thought you had become, as you offered a bashful smile and a little shrug… to which he winked in response, which really didn’t do much in the way of helping you collect yourself. Very much the opposite, actually.

Blushing, you glanced back at the book you were holding, trying to focus your energy on reading the summary and reviews on the back cover— but god, you were horribly distracted, by both your thoughts and Jake’s awareness of the way he was already making you feel. After a few more minutes of the two of you browsing titles and picking out two each (between numerous glances that felt far too charged to be taking place in public), the two of you finally headed upstairs to find a comfortable couch where you could read and watch the rain in relative privacy… at least, that’s what you were telling yourself.

The first floor had already been relatively quiet, with only a few scattered clusters of people browsing the titles, but the second level was even more so. Looking across the numerous couches and desks nestled between bookshelves, the two of you were essentially free to take your pick of whichever spot you wanted. There seemed to only be a handful of patrons up here, no less than ten people across the entire floor; all of whom seemed to be lost in their own worlds of studying or reading, many of them wearing headphones. Your hand was in Jake’s, your fingers interlaced, and as you attempted to slow your racing heartbeat, you gestured across the room, in the direction of a more secluded corner hidden behind the biographies that you knew well as a favorite reading spot.

Jake’s eyes seemed to be scanning the room, taking in your surroundings, and you tried not to let your already wandering mind take that fact and run with it, knowing how adventurous he liked to be— in every sense of the word. You swallowed hard. Down, girl. Breathe…

To save time, instead of taking the long way around all of nonfiction, you tugged on Jake’s arm, pulling him towards a particular aisle between the shelves, saying quietly to him, “Shortcut.” He chuckled endearingly, looking down at you with that familiar twinkle in his honey-brown eyes and saying at a similarly low volume, “Lead the way, baby… show me all the secret passages.”

It was entirely subconscious that you bit your lip in response, but the way he arched his eyebrow back at you and offered a smirk as a retort made your legs feel like jelly. It was clear he was picking up on what you were feeling— regardless of whether you were communicating it intentionally. And maybe, just maybe… the fact that you couldn’t help your reactions… that was turning him on, too.

As you led him through the aisle, he had shifted so he was behind you— and you just couldn’t help walking with a bit of an extra sway in your hips. You knew where his eyes would always just happen to fall if he was right behind you… and why not take advantage of that? Without turning your head to face Jake just yet, you bit your lip playfully in anticipation before making a point of sticking your ass out towards him now that you were hidden away between the shelves, even shaking it back and forth a bit to ensure you’d catch his attention.

With that, you glanced behind you, unable to resist checking to see if he was looking… and, sure enough, you turned your head just in time to catch those half-lidded eyes of his flashing right back up to meet your gaze from where they had certainly been lingering on how nice your ass looked in those leggings. You gave him a smirk of your own, and he stepped forward just enough so that he could —so quickly you hardly processed it taking place— slip one hand just under the hem of your sweatshirt and t-shirt, letting his fingers rest against your bare skin and causing an immediate shiver to wrack your body. You were both now standing right in the middle of the aisle, but the intoxicating touch of his calloused fingertips against the sensitive skin just above your hip had left you frozen in your tracks, rooted to the spot.

Jake took another step closer to you, which left him pressed up against you from behind— the feeling of his heartbeat and heavy breaths against your back overwhelming enough without the added factor of his desire being made astonishingly clear as he pressed his hips up against your ass. With that simple action, you were both hit with the first delicious shock of friction, and your mouth immediately dropped open as Jake leaned right into your ear, his voice like velvet as he spoke, low and raspy… “You’re such a goddamn tease. Fuck… I love it.”

With Jake’s firm, hot chest right up against your back, and the overwhelming nature of the contact his hips just made with your ass, the fact that the two of you were still standing in the middle of the aisle had become something of an instant afterthought. It didn’t matter. None of it did– your mind had gone entirely blank beyond what you felt against you. Nothing else even existed besides the man who had his body pressed up against yours– and the way his lips were right up against the shell of your ear as he breathed out,

“Do you know how fucking cute you are when you’re all hot and bothered for me?”

An involuntary, high-pitched noise almost resembling a whimper threatened to escape from you– and though you were able to catch yourself before your entirely unintentional desperation ended up being loud enough to draw attention to what was going on, your body was hit with an overwhelming shock wave of arousal when you suddenly felt Jake’s hand clamp directly over your mouth. His body was still flush against yours, the feeling of his increasingly obvious erection against your ass in combination with his filthy words making you lightheaded.

“Careful, my dirty girl… unless you want everyone to know exactly what I’m doing to you…”

As he spoke, Jake’s free hand began to first stroke down your arm, then back up… before flattening his palm out just between your collarbones, making sure his long fingers were spread out wide, the feeling making your breath catch in your throat. He then continued his public exploration of your body by letting that same hand stroke right over both of your breasts, gently groping and squeezing each of them just enough to make you arch your back against him— which prompted Jake to chuckle darkly into your ear, before he began to whisper to you once again.

“What is it, baby? Does it turn you on when I grab your tits like this… right here, where anyone could walk by and see us?”

Jake’s words sent an instant shiver down your spine, the hunger in his tone immediately causing wetness to pool between your thighs— and the chuckle that rumbled from deep in his throat made it clear that the way your body trembled hadn’t only been felt by you.

“I think I’ll take that as a yes,” Jake said lowly, his voice thick, hot, and heavy– and though he was still behind you, you could hear the smirk in his voice. He hadn’t stopped feeling you up, moving from one breast to the other as he squeezed and massaged you, letting his thumbs gently begin to tease at your hard nipples through the fabric of your sweatshirt. Already, the pleasure was so fucking much, and you arched into his touch, pressing your tits up against his exploring hand. His volume lowered even further, and the breathiness in his voice was damn near overwhelming as he rasped directly against your ear, “My dirty little exhibitionist…”

Your head was spinning. Through your haze, you were aware that there wasn’t anybody walking by, that the few people present on this floor of the library were entirely occupied with their own activities… and yet, if anybody just happened to wander past this particular aisle, there was absolutely no way to provide an innocent explanation for what was going on. Not with Jake so blatantly and shamelessly exploring your body… and not with your face so red and legs already beginning to tremble at the result of his actions. And yet, the most dizzying aspect of all… was that you didn’t care. Not in the least. You couldn’t give a fuck where you were, as long as you could be assured that Jake wouldn’t stop touching you.

Thankfully, or perhaps dangerously, enough… it seemed that Jake was thinking the same thing.

While his left hand continued its relentless teasing and massaging of your breasts through your sweatshirt, Jake’s right hand fell to your hip, gripping it firmly and possessively. Your breaths had evolved into heavy, short gasps as you felt your arousal building, and the sound of your boyfriend’s low, satisfied chuckle right in your ear left you squeezing your thighs together, lightheaded. That was when he spoke again, low and commanding, the hunger and heat in his voice making your heart stutter within your chest— 

“Your back. Against the bookcase. Now, pretty girl… for me.”

You didn’t even have to think. When Jake talked like that, his voice so dominant and raspy, it was as though your body just gave into him entirely on its own— no consideration required. With his hand still on your hip, guiding you, you felt him turning you around to face him for the first time since he started touching you, and the sight of his dark, lust-blown pupils right on you were enough to make a tiny whimper slip involuntarily from you.

Immediately, Jake’s long index finger was pressed directly against your lips, and before your body was even able to process the power of that simple action— he spoke again, his tone intoxicatingly condescending and his face inches from yours.

“Shhhh, now, honey… and listen to me. No matter what I do to you… you’re going to be silent. We’re in public, pretty girl… and nobody gets to hear those pretty moans but me. Is that clear?”

Your eyes had gone wide while Jake spoke, the combination of his filthy words, that intense fucking stare, and his finger against your lips only fanning the flames that were already burning deep within you. Keeping your lips pressed together out of breathless arousal, you nodded in a manner that, based on the way Jake began to smirk at you, came across far more desperate than you had intended to show— but likely exactly as desperate as you actually were feeling.

“That’s my good girl,” he breathed out, and your jaw tightened instantly as those few words sent shock waves directly between your legs, your knees beginning to shake as all of your energy went towards keeping yourself quiet. Jake’s expression was devious, cocky, a look you knew all too well… one that would always inevitably make your head spin and your panties wet, and the fact that he so clearly knew exactly what he was doing to you was only intensifying your desire. His voice remained just as quiet and firm as ever as he continued teasingly, “So… where was I?”

Your chest was heaving as Jake’s hand slid from your hip to your waist and back down, the look in his eyes making it obvious that he was enjoying himself, watching your reactions as he teased you. Every touch left your heart pounding, but you were aching at this point. You needed more, and you did your very best to communicate this to Jake without words. Feeling yourself surrender further to your desire, you looked up at the man in front of you with so much need that he let out a quiet, patronizing chuckle, dark and dangerous and unbelievably hungry.

“Oh, honey… you want it bad, don’t you?”

The instant shiver that coursed through your body at his words spoke loud and clear, eliciting another dark chuckle from Jake. “Well… how could I not…” he began, letting his hand begin to slide horizontally from its position on your hip, “...when you’re being so good for me?”

His other hand also shifted just slightly, replacing the single finger over your lips with his entire hand, so large it covered the majority of your jaw, right as the hand now against your stomach began to move downwards. He arched his eyebrow at you teasingly, giving you a flirtatious wink and murmuring, “Just in case.”

He was going to be the death of you.

The passionate eye contact never ceased or let up in the slightest as Jake’s hand continued its way down your sweatshirt, and his touch was already overwhelming enough through two layers of clothing. As his hand drew closer and closer to the hem of your leggings, the thought of how much closer he’d be, how he’d surely bypass the edge of the thickest fabric you were currently wearing within seconds, certainly wasn’t making things any easier.

The instant Jake’s fingertips were no longer dragging down your sweatshirt, he was slipping his hand under the waistband of your leggings, flattening out his palm and beginning to creep even further downwards. The sudden heat of his large hand stroking right down over your panties made you let out a gasp— one so sudden and involuntary against the fingers over your mouth that it made Jake’s smirking lips part with arousal, a soft “goddamn” slipping out from somewhere deep in his throat. That would’ve been enough to send you reeling, and yet, it was at that moment that his fingertips made their first contact with your clit, with nothing but the thin fabric of your everyday panties in between— and immediately, your eyes rolled back into your head, knees beginning to tremble as Jake studied your expression with a kind of hungry fascination that you couldn’t believe he still held for you after all this time.

Jake was rubbing your clit in tight circles now, and your breaths were already coming fast and hard. This wasn’t going to take long, not after all of his teasing, not with the thrill and the rush of your back against the bookcase and the knowledge of people just out of sight. He slid a long finger down to your still-covered entrance, and his mouth immediately fell open with desire when he realized just how soaked the fabric was under his touch.

“Fuck, pretty girl. Do you want me to make you unravel right here?”

You desperately wanted to cry out, to beg out loud, to whimper out a plea, anything that could tell him just how much you needed that. When he was craving your sounds, he’d encourage you to be as loud as you could— and he’d work you and pound you until you were screaming his name. But now, today… with his hand so firmly planted over your mouth, possessive, stifling… all you could manage was a shaky nod, overwhelmed with the feeling, the silence, his control.

Jake’s soft, dark chuckle reverberated through you as he murmured, “That’s my dirty girl.”

With that, he effortlessly managed to push the dripping fabric of your panties out of the way despite not once letting his eyes leave yours— and the moment his fingers came into direct contact with your heat, you felt the entire world around you melt away. Holy fucking shit.

His movements were so languid and intentional, like he had done this to you a thousand times… and, well, he probably had. And yet, somehow, it still felt just as dizzying as the first time when Jake’s long middle finger immediately parted your folds and buried itself deep into you, your thighs instantly tightening around his wrist as his mouth dropped open once again.

“Fucking eager little thing,” he breathed out, “goddamn.”

And as he started pumping his finger in and out of you, not wasting any time when it came to picking up his speed and intensity, you knew what he said had been right. You were eager for him to make you cum, and you didn’t even care admitting it. In fact, you’d scream it from the rooftops if it meant Jake wouldn’t cease his movements, wouldn’t stop staring at you with those dark eyes, as he brought you closer and closer to the edge. When he curled his finger inside of you in a come-hither motion, stroking that one particular spot that he knew so well, you were seeing stars, bucking up your hips against his hand in a frenzied chase for the orgasm you knew was threatening to overtake you at any moment. It was all so overwhelming, so fucking good, the feeling of that long finger sliding in and out of you over and over again, Jake’s hand so firm over your mouth, those eyes watching you all the while.

And that was when he added his ring finger.

You were practically gone, almost incoherent, leaning back and allowing the bookshelf behind you to be your support— there was no hope of keeping yourself upright on your own now. The trembling of your thighs and the fluttering of your walls around Jake’s fingers clearly communicated your teetering proximity to the edge, and he grit his teeth together as he made sure not once to relent in his fingers’ pace within you. Your vision was blurring, your chest heaving, and Jake could read every signal your body was giving him. It was intoxicating, how well he knew you. Never once slowing his pace, finger-fucking you relentlessly, he leaned in, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear as he whispered,

“Gonna cum for me? Right here in the fucking library? Do it. Cum on my fingers like the exhibitionist slut you are. Fucking cum.”

His words were all it took. Ecstasy overtook every inch of your body as you clenched down around him, your mouth wide open against the fingers Jake still had covering your lips, legs all but giving out beneath you as you rode out wave after wave of pleasure.

“Fuck, that’s my girl. Goddamn,” Jake was groaning softly into your ear, but you could barely even process the words falling from his lips with the intensity of the orgasm that was currently overtaking you, only heightened by the fact that Jake made sure to maintain the pace of his fingers all the way through your high, his eyes even closing for a moment in aroused disbelief at just how hard you were cumming for him.

Shaking, trembling, your orgasm astounded you in its length and intensity, and by the time you were coming down, you were gasping for breath. Jake finally slid his hand away from where it had been covering your mouth, drifting it off to the side and cradling your cheek, as he gazed at you with an expression that mixed adoration and staggering desire.

“Holy fuck, baby,” Jake breathed out, shaking his head a little. “You…”

His voice trailed off at the sudden, unmistakable sound of footsteps. Your eyes went instantly wide, and you glanced in rapidly developing panic at the entrance to the aisle the two of you were standing in— the aisle he had just made you cum all over his fingers in.

But if Jake was feeling any of that same nervousness that was threatening to overtake the post-orgasmic haze you were feeling, he was doing a damn good job at hiding it. In one fluid motion, Jake had pulled his hand from your leggings, and quickly scooped up your selected books that had been laying forgotten on the floor with the hand that had, until recently, been covering your mouth. The loss of contact would’ve been enough to make you whimper in any other situation, but in this moment, you couldn’t help but thank your lucky stars for Jake’s adaptability and cool demeanor. You only hoped you looked a fraction as put together as he did, which, frankly, you doubted very much now that he had already brought you to one orgasm and didn’t really seem like he intended to stop there. Your head was still spinning as Jake quickly sucked his fingers clean with a wink, just in time for a stranger likely over twice your age to walk right by the aisle that he’d been finger-fucking you to orgasm in moments earlier.

Once the stranger had passed you by, you let out a long, shaky sigh that you couldn’t be sure whether to attribute more to your relief or your desire. With your back still against the bookcase, your gaze met Jake’s once again— and the mischievous, hungry look in his eyes had returned, seductive and unmistakable. When he spoke again, his voice was a whisper. “Goddamn, baby… drives me fuckin’ crazy how dirty you are.”

Having regained your composure somewhat, you managed a playful smile of your own, biting down on your bottom lip in the flirtatious way you knew Jake loved— savoring the way his tongue darted over his bottom lip as you said, voice breathy, “It’s all for you, Jake…”

“Fuck,” Jake cursed under his breath, his tone thick with desire, his darkened eyes never leaving yours. He moved a step closer to you, his voice soft and raspy as he asked you with obvious intentions, “...where can we go?”

A shiver went down your spine as his meaning hit you loud and clear. Your mind was racing, and you were responding before the thought was even fully formed— “There’s a secluded corner behind the biographies… it’s where I was leading us before…” you trailed off, and your cheeks reddened as you gave Jake a little smirk. “...before you distracted me so nicely.”

Jake grinned at you wickedly, before leaning in and whispering right in your ear. “Take me there now, baby, so I can distract you some more…” letting his lips drag across your velvety skin, making you gasp when he grazed your earlobe with his teeth. Your ability to think flickered like a faulty switch, but you were able to hold yourself together long enough to grab Jake’s wrist and murmur teasingly, “I could, if you weren’t so damn distracting already…” making him smirk at you while you giggled in response, before adding, “...now follow me, Jakey, I think you’ll like what comes next.”

As he let you take your first couple of steps ahead of him, he managed a final soft, teasing whisper, his voice heavy as he said, “I’m already liking the view…” making you blush before you led him out of the aisle on legs that still weren’t entirely steady, passing one or two oblivious people on their laptops. The thought that they had been there the entire time, and would likely continue to be there, while remaining none the wiser to what was happening between you and Jake, was making you even more lightheaded than you could care to admit. Even though you were a few steps ahead of him, you could feel your boyfriend’s presence behind you; his steady gait and comforting yet commanding presence unmistakable and dizzying. You wanted all of him so fucking bad, and you were about to give it to him right here. In public. You almost couldn’t believe yourself, and yet, it was no surprise that Jake was bringing out this side of you. There was something about him that just made you want to be as filthy as possible, no matter where you were— and you knew Jake loved that just as much as you did.

After what seemed like a tortuous amount of time winding through labyrinthine aisles of nonfiction and biography, your destination came into view. It was your favorite reading nook in the whole library, specifically because of how hidden away it was behind the stacks. Tucked away in a corner behind the biographies, surrounded by tall bookshelves and sporting what you considered to be the comfiest chair in the building. However, the highlight of this particular spot was that it was in an area of the library that nobody ever seemed to wander into. There had been times where you’d managed to curl up in that recliner and read an entire book over the course of several hours without seeing another soul, despite knowing that there were certainly people right on the other side of the shelves.

Of course, it had now become apparent that the hidden nature of this particular nook had some other benefits beyond being a quiet place to read. When you turned to face your boyfriend after arriving at your favorite corner, the look on his face was almost incredulous with anticipation, eyebrows raised and tongue rolling against the inside of his own cheek. “Goddamn… this is a nice little spot, isn’t it?” he said mischievously, his pupils somehow having dilated even further, betraying the depth of his own arousal. He set the books that you two had chosen down on the chair, his hands falling to hook around his belt loops.

“I’ve always wanted to show it to you, Jakey…” you breathed out, never once letting your eyes leave his, as he began to walk towards you, getting closer and closer, one step at a time. The distance between the two of you was shrinking by the second, and before you knew it, Jake was close enough to be brushing your hair out of your face with his long, delicate fingers, that naughty look in his eye that always made you shudder.

“I love it, baby…” he murmured, his heavy-lidded eyes flickering down to your lips as he let his fingers move from their place in your hair to stroke down the side of your cheek. A teasing smirk made its way onto his face, one that you knew all too well. “...but tell me… is there any… particular reason you wanted to take me here? Hmm?”

“Jakey…” you sighed softly, arching into his touch as his fingers traced your cheekbone, then your jawline, before starting to run down your neck. As his fingers explored you in a way that felt shockingly sensual for where he was touching you, he continued, “Come on, now, baby… use your words… before it’s time for me to cover that pretty mouth with my hand again…” You let out the tiniest squeak of a whimper, making Jake chuckle darkly, as he added, “Well? Why did you want to bring me here to this hidden little corner, baby?”

As he finished his question, his hand came to rest at the base of your throat, in the exact spot he knew would always make your knees go weak beneath his touch— and your body proved him right, shuddering instantly. The hunger in Jake’s eyes was enough to have every inch of you burning for him, and as his gaze bore into you, the words were finally able to fall from your lips, soft and breathy and just for him. “Oh, Jake… I want you to fuck me right here… right here, in the fucking public library…” letting your voice fall to a whisper as you breathed out your final, most indecent fantasy. “...right up against the bookshelves…”

Jake’s soft groan of need would have been enough to make your head spin on its own, but clearly, hearing you give voice to your desires had lit a flame within him that he wasn’t going to attempt to restrain any longer. All of a sudden, he was pushing you up against the bookshelf with strong arms, his hips beginning to roll against you while whispering harshly right into your ear, “Goddamn, you are a fucking dirty girl, aren’t you…?”

The way your mouth instantly and wordlessly fell open gave Jake the answer that he needed while the two of you were so indecently involved in public. He caught your lips with his— roughly, passionately, kissing you with a silent ferocity that almost knocked you off of your feet, and potentially would have if he didn’t already have your back pressed up against the bookshelf. His hips didn’t halt in their motions against you, and your mind and body were struck by the realization of just how hard Jake was. You could feel him, solid and burning against your upper thigh, even through the thin fabric of both his jeans and your leggings, and the sensation was so intoxicating you felt your eyes roll back into your head involuntarily.

He was nipping at your bottom lip, his teeth grazing your sensitive skin, and you were immediately starting to buck your hips in response to the way he was setting your body alight with arousal. With both of you now grinding against each other, still devouring each other’s lips as though starving for it, it was more obvious than ever just how badly you both wanted this. Just how much it turned both of you on to be fully giving into your desire, just yards away from strangers who knew nothing of what was going on. To know that things were about to escalate even further. Right here, right now.

Jake’s hands were sliding down your body and hooking around the waistband of both your leggings and your panties. A surge of arousal rushed to your head as you realized what he was doing— and when he pulled back from your lips just long enough to give you a look that clearly requested a final confirmation that this was what you wanted, you nodded so hard that his expression returned to its smug dominance instantly. Glancing back over his shoulder one last time before looking you right in the eyes, Jake yanked both your leggings and panties down in one hard tug, pushing them as far down your legs as they could go. His chest was heaving with desire as he stared at you hungrily, before stepping back just enough to take a good look at your exposed body as his hands moved to the button and zipper of his own jeans. Whispering darkly, Jake breathed out, “Look at you… so fucking pretty when you’re stripped down for me… showing off that gorgeous body right fucking here…” his filthy words making your knees tremble.

His voice was still a whisper when he asked, “Fucking turns you on so much that we’re doing this in public, doesn’t it?” cocking his head to the side with a lust-clouded smirk as you nodded. “My dirty girl… you want me to take it out? You want… you need my cock inside you right here, right now?”

As he spoke, you were biting on your lip harder and harder to stop yourself from moaning aloud, doing everything you could to force yourself to stay silent, while nodding harder and harder, growing desperation in your eyes. Jake chuckled patronizingly, chewing on his own lower lip as he pulled his zipper down, murmuring, “That’s my good little whore… now keep your eyes on me, sweet girl…” He didn’t need to tell you twice; hell, even if he hadn’t given the order, you wouldn’t have been able to look away from the now-exposed hint of his boxers, from where his beautiful hands were now moving to the waistband of his jeans. Those long fingers of his, just as they had with your own clothing, made quick work of the thin layers of fabric separating your gaze from exactly what you craved. And once he had his cock free, you had to cover your mouth with your own hand in order to keep yourself silent.

He looked achingly hard, his cock thick and waiting, the rosy pink head already slick with his own arousal, and you felt yourself trembling in anticipation as Jake moved towards you, spitting into his hand in a way that felt downright obscene— especially considering where you were— before giving his cock a few languid strokes just as he found his position right in front of you. His eyes were practically darker than you’d ever seen them before, and Jake used the hand that had been stroking his cock to grab your inner thigh, pushing your legs apart for better access. Your heart was pounding in your chest as his free hand slid up your chest and neck to cover your mouth completely once again, never once letting his intense stare lessen or cease. He leaned right in, until the tip of his nose touched yours, opening his mouth to speak, his voice hushed. “Ready to get fucked like the exhibitionist you are?”

The way your body immediately shuddered at his words told Jake everything he needed to know, lining his cock up at your entrance, with his mouth falling open involuntarily upon feeling the intensity of your desire for him. “Goddamn, you’re fucking soaked… is that all for me? All because anyone could walk by and see us when I fuck that slutty little pussy…”

And then, giving you no rest or reprieve whatsoever, the moment he finished his sentence, Jake was pushing his cock all the way into you, his pace unhurried but steady, stretching you out and filling you up so deliciously and perfectly that your eyes rolled all the way back into your head, your knees almost completely giving out underneath you. It was only the pressure of Jake’s body keeping you pinned to the bookshelf that was keeping you upright now.

Jake’s jaw immediately tightened, his teeth clenching, as he leaned right into your ear for a moment just to groan out a restrained “Oh, fuck…” that seemed like it may have slipped from his lungs entirely involuntarily. You could hardly breathe. He was so fucking thick, and the feeling of him stretching you out so perfectly was almost overwhelming already. And yet, once he started to move, his cock beginning to pump in and out of you over and over again— slow at first, but rapidly picking up speed— the intense shocks of pleasure were so staggering that your mind went entirely blank beyond the feeling of Jake’s cock inside of you, fucking you just right, stretching and pounding into you in a way that you wouldn’t ever be able to get used to.

He was really fucking you now, and it was like the rest of the world had melted away. All there was, all there ever would be, were Jake’s dark eyes, his filthy words, his fat cock slamming into you over and over and over again— and the way you were already beginning to feel your pleasure building towards your second orgasm of the day with your back against a bookshelf. After all of his teasing, you weren’t going to last long, and the way he was practically growling under his breath right into your ear as he pounded into your cunt was enough to send your mind reeling along with your body.

“Such a dirty fucking girl… voyeuristic little whore… you want to get caught, don’t you? You want strangers to see you getting your tight little pussy fucked…. To see me fucking railing you against the bookshelves… is that it, baby? Are you my slutty little exhibitionist?”

His tone was already patronizing, but coupled with the fact that his hand was so firmly over your mouth that there was no possibility you’d be able to respond, the sheer condescension was making your head spin. Your thighs were beginning to tremble, your mouth falling open against Jake’s long fingers as you felt the heat in your core beginning to increase exponentially. He was relentless, fucking you hard and deep, his breathy sighs and groans in your ear only spurring you on further, encouraging you to completely lose control. As you grew closer and closer to your high, you felt your walls beginning to flutter around Jake’s thick cock, and his eyes damn near rolled into the back of his head. He leaned in and pressed his lips directly to the shell of your ear before he spoke again. “Goddamn, baby, I feel you clenching… are you gonna cum again for me? Right here? Gotta be silent, though, pretty girl… keep nice and quiet… fuck… I’m not far behind, baby… gonna cum for you, too… gonna fill you up…”

You couldn’t even nod your head as tears began to well in your eyes. Jake’s cock was hitting your g-spot over and over again, sending overwhelming waves of utter bliss through you with every thrust. Of course, Jake knew your body so well— he didn’t need to hear an answer from you. With the free hand that wasn’t covering your mouth, he dipped his fingers between your legs to rub your clit in tight circles while continuing to fuck you at his same dizzying pace. That was all it took. Within moments, you were completely unraveling, clenching down onto Jake’s cock uncontrollably as your second orgasm overtook you, practically sucking your boyfriend’s long fingers into your mouth to keep yourself silent. The combined sensation of you reaching your high all around him, rippling and fluttering, alongside your hot mouth on his fingers, pushed Jake over the edge. He bit down on your shoulder to stifle his low, blissful grunt as he exploded inside of you, filling you up completely, fucking every last drop of his cum into your pussy.

You couldn’t have any idea how long your orgasm lasted, the pleasure reaching a point almost beyond overwhelming while Jake held you close throughout both of your intense highs. The way he was biting down on your shoulder turned into open-mouthed kisses against both the fabric of your sweatshirt and the flushed skin of your neck as the two of you slowly but surely returned to earth, gasping for breath in a way that probably was nowhere near as quiet as you had hoped— not that it really would matter much now anyway. As if reading your mind, Jake’s hand slid down from its place covering your mouth to grip your upper arm in a way that was both a little possessive and entirely comforting. It must have been at least a minute or two of heavy breathing and clinging to each other’s clothing and skin before you finally felt able to think again— breathless giggles slipping from your lips as the reality of what just happened began to sink in. Jake looked up from your shoulder, a similarly dazed and cheeky grin on his own face.

When he spoke, his voice was still soft, but it was steady, astonished, adoring. “Goddamn, baby. That was fucking unbelievable… I love you so much.”

You bit your lip shyly, looking down towards the floor for half a second before letting your gaze flash back up to meet Jake’s, breathing out a bashful, flustered, “I love you too, Jakey… it’s just what you do to me.”

“It’s what you do to me,” he murmured with a smile, leaning in to capture your lips with another kiss, this one slower, less hurried, less frantic. Patient, loving, home. You melted against him, almost forgetting where you were for a moment, until you were suddenly aware once again of the exposed lower half of your body against the bookshelf, which made you start giggling again against his lips. When he pulled back to look at you endearingly and curiously, you gestured downwards, and Jake couldn’t hold back a little laugh of his own. “Okay, so we should take care of a few things…”

Carefully, he pulled himself from you, making you shudder, as he quickly made sure to tug your bottoms back up your legs— and you felt your cheeks begin to burn as you felt the familiar shiver of Jake’s cum dripping from you into your panties. He gave you a mischievous wink as he zipped up his jeans, whispering, “Just a little something to remember me by…” prompting you to roll your eyes and giggle, leaning in to tease him with a playful nudge, “As if I could ever forget, Jakey…”

Jake took your arm and helped you walk over to the big comfy chair on your trembling legs, the both of you sharing numerous flirtatious glances that would inevitably turn into giggles. The chair was so large that there was enough room for the both of you to fit sitting in it, as long as you swung your legs over Jake’s— and that was something you’d never pass up an opportunity to do. As you two settled in with your books, you leaned back, resting your head on Jake’s shoulder. You couldn’t help but smile to yourself as a thought you’d never expected made its way into your mind. “Hey, Jakey?”

“What is it, baby?” he asked, turning to you, looking satisfied and affectionate— beautiful beyond compare. You stifled another giggle, leaning in to press your forehead to his.

“Let’s hope it rains again tomorrow.”

//

TAGLIST: @sinsofstardust @jakesguitarsolo @losfacedevil @sparrowofthedawnsworld @gold-mines-melting @texas-bbq-pringles @mountain-in-springtime @alwaysonthemend @tripthelightfatality @tommie-gvf @runwayblues @shutupdevvie @heavens-hearken @godly-sinsx @sacredjake @ignite-my-fire @kiska-enthusiast @songbirds-sweet

[miirohs]

skz as marching band members

cw: n/a an: can you hear my inner band kid coming out after the absolute banger this comeback was? i may not be in band but colorguard is pretty damn close- also the reader a colorguard member! shoutout to nyx, ily boo!

bang chan:

hes a drum major. 100%

he also is band captain bc he's just that bitch

co-arranges musics with the band director and everyone knows when the time he's gonna pull out the 1970s/80s/90s music

use to be a clarinet, but definitely plays in some games if another drum major is conducting for him

an absolute beast when he's conducting, never misses a beat

he's always open to discovering new music bc he loves to arrange songs he enjoys

he's a strickler and needs shit to be on time because he needs to keep a consistent schedule lest he forget to do something

with his partner:

i mean he's definitely the type to try and help with counts (even if your counts are different than the rest of the band)

if he had a dime for every time he got yelled at because he was busy watching your section he'd have a lot of dimes

he likes to say its because your flags are bright and distracting but lets be fr he was watching you

definitely copies the stand dances when he's conducting and makes the rest of the band laugh when he messes up.

typa guy to ask you for a kiss for luck right before the halftime because in his words, "you're his lucky charm"

lee minho:

hes the cheer captain, four time state champion and a menace

probably did band for like half a year and then quit

runs the cheer team practices like its a fucking military camp, everyone fears and loves him

hes grown to have a reputation because once a girl quit due to the pressure and he basically followed her around school for a whole week and she ended up switching schools

deviously talking shit about some of the band and all the football team all the goddamn time, loves loves loves to start beef and then walk away

he also does choreography work with the guard sometimes because he likes seeing the pretty flags

with his partner:

at some point he drags the whole team to your comps just to see y'all, he loves seeing you specifically put all his work in action

always offering helpful advice on how to fix body angles, posture, etc

since he's a performer himself, he get how easy it is to burn out so sometimes he'll bring you to his own practices and show you things he's choreographed himself

seonghwa is considering locking you away after the sheer amount of times you've gone "mysteriously" missing during the end of practice

Always cheers extra loud for you in the stands, just to see your smile

seo changbin:

he's literally so bass/sousaphone coded

him and wooyoung (sax) and yeonjun (flute) have definitely tried to play each others instruments at at least one point

probably switches between the two every year, well versed in how to play both

definitely plays bass outside of band, is hella good at it too

people find him intimidating but in all honesty he's a sweetheart who would help you no matter what

probably one of the dudes that marches with way more energy than the rest of his section combined- literally during weekend practices he's smiling and laughing at 9 in the morning while everyone sluggishly retrieves their instruments

he's also a part of the stage crew and moves and paints a lot of their equipment

with his partner:

he'd definitely try to teach you how to play the bass and he'd be so proud when you manage to play like one chord

calls his friends over and everything and is like "look they did it!"

in return you've definitely taught him stand dances and bro is killing it- you keep trying to convince him to join but he's loyal

whenever you're performing near him, he has the stupidest heart-struck eyes and is always watching you

loves when you do rifle work because he thinks it looks sick as hell

he wouldn't try it though because he's scared that he'll hit himself and he still doesn't know how you do it

he'll give you little winks if you're close by

hwang hyunjin:

hes a piccolo through and through

he's got both the drama and the sass all the flute section is carrying

he always has his piccolo on him, so he's ready to give the performance of a lifetime whenever needed

he's big big friends with the guard and cheer team, they have their own dedicated groupchat and everything

also the costume manager, he has literally been badgering chan to update the uniforms like forever, sometimes he adds his own little spins to the costumes and also does repairs on them

with his partner:

he admires the guard (you) from afar for sure

he carries your stuff for you because he's such a gentleman (also the piccolo is pocket sized and chan has been getting on his ass about treating the instrument right but to him nothing matters more than treating you right)

definitely joins you and seonghwa when you're gossiping about

sometimes he plays and you'll just do a random saber combo to it and he'll cheer for you

sometimes he likes to take a spin on it (and immediately regret when it smacks his fingers really bad)

whenever you get a boo-boo he always kisses it better, swears his kisses will immediately heal your bruises

han jisung:

he's a trumpet (which is oddly fitting for him)

plays sad music even when it doesn't call for it

always doing the sad trombone thing on trumpet and the trombones are salty that he kinda stole their thunder with that

he's known in the low brass section for being able to play almost any brass instrument with the littlest instruction

chan basically refuses to let him make the switch to sax because he knows what'll happen if he does (he thinks han'll go crazy)

he loves a good challenge, will trumpet-off with other people and play songs on his instruments against other sections

with his partner:

he probably plays show tunes and stuff while you dance with him- loves to call you his showgirl

he's always vibing to your little thumps when you toss and throw, wishes that he could do it too

tries to teach you how to play but that does not end well

he's clingy, he'll do anything to stay with you a little longer

sometimes he even asks you to help find his music for him in an attempt to distract you (its in his bag and he'll magically remember after you give him a hug or some form of physical affection)

lee felix:

probably picked the flute cause it looks pretty aesthetic lets be fr

everyone in band comes to him for marching advice because he makes it look fun and easy

always giving it 100% even if no one can hear him- he makes sure he's heard

even though he joined as a hobby, he's killing it and he plays outside of band as well

always doing musical challenges on tik tok, especially when he should be practicing in sectionals

his favorite thing to play on the flute are disney songs, but he also plays a shit ton of different genres and posts them to tik tok, bringing some semblance of fame to their little high school band

with his partner:

he 100% plays little snippets of song you like because everything sounds good on flute (trust me)

will convince you to do tik toks with him even if you aren't a fan

sometimes you let him try the flag or saber in exchange for his flute so you can try it

he admits that the only reason he leaves his flute to you whenever he goes is so that he can sit nearby and listen to you try to play it (and fail)

he would most definitely be a natural at flag but tries not to do as well so you can shine when your time comes

lets you lean back against him in the stands

kim seungmin:

he's percussion. he's literally a percussion in my heart.

he definitely plays the drums around chan because he thinks its funny to annoy him by drumming off count

no one has ever survived a drum comp with this man fr

sometimes he hums along to his drumming

also taps his thighs/air when he doesn't have something in his hands

he has good rhythm so chan usually has him set the pace to which they go on the field to

he's competitive as hell, he knows hes also better than everyone else and he shows it

with his partner:

he loves guard but he refuses to be put next to them on the drill because he suffered an injury at your hands once

he loves to show off he can play the drums and him and his section do little drumming sessions sometimes while you do saber warmups

he distracts both you and himself a lot when it comes to joint practices so seonghwa and chan have tried to move them (to no avail)

he'll sit outside with you when you guys practice sometimes (as support he says, but seonghwa doesn't believe him)

he's always giving you little nods of approval, doesn't outright show it but he'll take your hands and give you a little kiss when no ones looking

he doesn't want his section to know he's soft for you

yang jeongin:

he's front ensemble/pit, i hope we all agree on him being on the synths and marimba

he's a vital part of the band for sure even if he never seems to get credit but he honestly could care less

has been running synths since he joined, originally wanted to do the sousaphone but he wasn't built enough for it

also the front ensemble section leader, he's very efficient in managing the pit

but he's also clumsy as hell and will sometimes zone out and drops the mallet on the marimba or just entirely forgets wtf he's suppose to be doing on the synths

more than once he's nearly caught these hands from chan bc in chans words, "those were expensive"

with his partner:

whenever he sees you on the sidelines, he's always ginning because out of the corner of his eye he can see you jamming out to the music

everyone teases him (especially binnie) because he zones out watching you and drops the mallet on his foot

follows your every move carefully (and like minho), and he'll always give you advice, but he sugar coats it very much because he loves you and doesn't want to hurt your feelings

loves loves loves when you send him little videos of your progress

loves it even more when you question him about his work, it makes him feel so important pls ask him how he does shit hes dying for it

brushes against you when walking out to the fields during games- he just wants to let you know hes there

[vneuns]

your fave gogy anon here, imma need angst to fluff but like a miscommunication and argument and tears and then making up and assurances and little kisses and fluffy ending if you can pls and thank you ily <33

all my gogy lovers are crying rn because of u nonnie </3

▸ a stream of tears from your one true love | George ֙⋆ ་ .ᐟ

＃ʚĭɞ warnings shit load of angst, 'fucking' is used multiple times, feeling of neglation sort of?, bringing up unhealed wounds, yelling , hitting things , crying

ʚĭɞ＃ author's note(s) haha u bitches are in for it. lol. this story is inspired by Malcom & Marie but Reader and George aren't crazy- I listened to these two playlists while writing ;P and shoutout to @echoteaa for editing <3

＃ʚĭɞ others word count (1k), writing time (2hrs), Rq (open)

HUFFING YOU OPENED your front door to you and your boyfriends shared loft walking off to the bedroom not caring you had left the front door open.

It had been a long night of talking to people, putting on a fake smile no one could see through, but it seemed the person you had wanted to see through it the most didn’t notice anything.

When George had been graced with being nominated for the Best Streamer award, and by no surprise he won. You knew he would. His natural ability to make someone smile just with a stupid little joke or a smile of his own could light up the entire room.

Since day one of his streaming career you were there. From when he got affiliated to when he got partnered. You were right there. Cheering him on from the sidelines, you were his number one biggest fan. When he got his first hate comment the two of you went down to the frozen yogurt shop down the street from your uni. When he got his first paycheck he bought you your first promise ring.

Though it seemed none of that had mattered now, not when he got up on that stage and thanked every single fucking person ‘even the mailman’ except you. Thinking nothing of it you brushed it off and smiled, and when he came back apologizing profusely you told him that ‘It was fine and you were proud of him’.

In all honesty it was fine, until his two best friends came up to you with sad smiles on their faces saying “I wonder how it feels knowing he didn’t thank you, you’ll be okay you know he loves you”.

The pity smiles were what sent you tumbling off the edge.

“Y/n what’s wrong?” George sighed untying his tie as he took off his suit.

A scoff left your lips as you shook your head slamming the bathroom door behind you signaling you didn’t want to be followed.

“Is this about the speech? I told you I was sorry and you said it was fine.” His muffled voice traveled through the closed door. Anger bubbled inside you as you flung open the door, your eyes darting to where he sat on the bed taking off his black velvet loafers.

“I was fine George! I was fine when you thanked your fucking cat and your viewers and everyone else before me.” The words began to flow out of your mouth before you could stop them.

“Where were all these people when streaming began to get too much and you wanted to quit? Where were these people when you almost broke your monitor because it felt like you were suffocating? Huh!?”

Immediately your mouth clamped shut realizing you brought up times in your boyfriend's life you knew he’d rather forget. George’s tongue ran over his bottom lip as he nodded his head slowly.

“Real mature of you, Y/n.” Trailing after him a spew of apologies filling the air. You were never one to let anger get the best of you, nor were you ever the type to bring up past wounds that still needed time to heal because of how you felt.

Your love for George ran deep as did his for you, but communication was never something that came easily for the two of you. Neither of you were the jealous type but you both had moments when you wanted to rain hell on the other, except it never happened.

No, instead you let the thoughts linger over your heads, deciding not to tell the other how you felt, because dealing with your feelings had to be harder than saying absolutely nothing at all.

“You know I didn’t mea-.” The brunette in front of you cut you off with the slam of his hand to the kitchen island counter. Your breath hitched at the sudden noise.

“It doesn't matter if you didn’t mean it! You fucking said it, and it’s too late to take it back fucking now.” A shiver ran down your back. George was never a yeller. Usually when he got upset his initial reaction would be to slam a few doors or leave the house to blow off some steam. But never ever to yell.

An eerie silence fell over the two of you as you took a step back giving the man before you some space. Running a hand through your hair you decided against saying anything and made your way back to your bedroom.

Changing out of your outfit from the night you’d love to cut a few parts out of your memory you put on one of George’s hoodies moving quietly to still be able to hear what was going on in the other room.

You heard a cabinet open and close before a glass hit the counter and the sink tap turned on. Space. Something you both desperately needed for a little cool down. Taking one of his pillows for comfort you trudged across the hall to the empty guest bedroom closing the door quietly behind you as to not alert the boy in the kitchen.

George knew he shouldn’t have yelled, or hit the counter. It wasn’t him whatsoever and he wouldn’t be surprised if he had scared you. But god how you pushed his buttons. Inherent

He knew you were upset, and you had every right to be, yet bringing up such a low in his life hurt.

Exhaling knowing he had to apologize, George made a beeline for the bedroom, though confusion crossed his face as he realized you weren’t in there. Going into a silent panic his mind playing out the worse situations.

Checking the closet and bathroom about to yell for you, he stopped himself when he heard a small sniffle come from outside the room.

Heading towards the noise the brunette cracked open the guest bedroom door just a bit to find your huddled figure underneath the duvet covers. Hanging his head George lifted the covers laying down behind you laying a trail of kisses from the bottom of your ear to your neck. Little hushes left his lips in an attempt to calm you down.

“I’m sorry, I love you so so so much. I’d never do anything to purposely hurt you or your feelings. You know how much I’m thankful for you and wouldn’t be where I am right now if it wasn’t for you and your annoying obsession with ducks and fluffy socks.” He joked trying to lighten the mood.

A smile adorned his lips when he obtained a little chuckle out of you. Turning in his hold your head dug into his chest allowing his lilac smell to infiltrate your senses as it always did.

“I’m sorry too, I shouldn’t have said something like that in an attempt to hurt you.” George pressed a kiss to the top of your head murmuring how much he hated when the two of you fought.

“Do you actually find my duck and fluffy sock obsession annoying?”

no longer adding people to the taglist follow @honeynutcherios and turn on notis <33

@inniterhq @basilly @yamturds @dysfunctionalcrab @tinyegg @ttakinou @charnease @i-mmunity @b3l0v3ds @alice-blue-skies @the-swageyama-tobiyolo @mitzimania @joyfullymulti @dreamzluvrr @multifandomgirl-us @sufloerfs @sunniewrites

[troubatrain]

twisted in bedsheets - m. tkachuk

a/n: this is straight up smut.... like minimal plot mostly filth. but i hope you guys like it, i may give it a part two if anyone wants to see it but i don't know yet. big shoutout to my resident whores @hookingminor & @tkafuckit ily both sm

taglist : @barzysreputation

warnings: it's smush time (smut)

You almost wanted to make fun of him.

A part of you wondered, what did a single, twenty three year old, professional athlete who lived in a different country most of year need a house this big for? That wasn’t your business, and really neither was showing up two days after Matthew moved in with a bottle of wine and silly housewarming gift to make yourself feel better about where his little brother, also known as your best friend, was. You knocked loudly, hoping the car in the driveway meant Matthew was home and you weren’t wasting your time.

Matthew was inside, finally getting some peace and quiet after spending the day listening to his mother and the interior designer he hired argue about throw pillows. He jumped at the knock of his door, not used to the way it echoed through the house he bought on a whim. You were standing on the other side, bouncing on your heels with a bag in your hand and Matthew couldn’t help but smile.

Matthew always had a soft spot for you, Brady was your best friend and just like Matthew found himself watching out for Brady, he did the same for you. It was easy to keep it like that for years, Brady being far more possessive because you were his friend and not Matthew’s and not everything needs to be about you Matt, but it’d gotten harder lately. It was sudden, one summer Matthew came home and you were lounging by the pool and he swore his dick twitched in his pants, and it just wasn’t getting easier. It wasn’t easier when he tried to convince himself that there was an age gap between the both of you, even though it was barely two years and no one would blink an eye. It wasn’t easier when he beat the Senators and you quietly told him he had a good game because if Brady caught wind of it he’d lose his mind. And it sure as hell wasn’t easier when Brady mentioned your boyfriend constantly.

Your boyfriend who was having a party that Matthew knew for a fact Brady was at, but why weren’t you? Matthew couldn’t possibly get his hopes up, knowing if you were single he’d find some way to break your heart and you didn’t deserve that. That was the thing, Matthew ruined people and you were a far better person than he was to begin with. Matthew opens the door regardless, a smile on his face when he meets your eyes.

“Hi,” You beam, trying to play off like you were happy when you were just looking for a distraction that didn’t involve driving around and crying to Taylor Swift, “I, uh, congrats?”

Matthew chuckles, cocking his head to the side and opening his door a little further for you to come in, “Thank you, you really didn’t have to bring a gift.”

“It’s rude not too,” You scold, tapping Matthew in the arm and forgetting for a second you weren’t talking to Brady.

You pretended like you couldn’t feel it, the way his arms felt like a solid fucking rock and it was getting harder and harder to shove down that silly crush you’ve had since high school. You remember it so clearly, the moment Matthew went from Brady’s brother to just Matthew. You were a freshman, a dorky quiet kid who everyone knew not to mess with exclusively because Brady would kick the shit out of them, and you overheard a few girls in Matthew’s gossiping about how cute he was. Then it hit you, just as Matthew was leaning against his car to drive you home - he was cute. Cute turned into hot quickly, and you spent summer after summer wondering if you’d be bold enough to make a move.

You watched as Matthew pulled out the picture you’d framed for him, one his mother had taken of the three of you as kids. You were at the same ice cream shop you went to after every Blue’s game, chocolate ice cream smiles on your faces.

“You dropped your ice cream right after my mom took this,” Matthew hums, smiling at the memory himself.

“And you gave me yours because you felt bad for me,” You finish, hence the reason you chose that photo in the first place.

“You were crying,” Matthew nods, remembering the way his heart broke when he saw tears well up in your eyes. Even then, Matthew was a protector, constantly defending the people he held close to his heart, “Brady wouldn’t even share his… speaking of, isn’t there a huge rager you could be at right now?”

“Something about a party at my ex boyfriend’s doesn’t sound fun to me at all,” You sigh, hoping you wouldn’t have to explain it any further.

You didn’t have a boyfriend anymore.

It was all Matthew could process, his brain malfunctioning because he couldn’t believe it. Matthew gave you a sympathetic smile, “Let’s crack that bottle open then?”

You agreed, following Matthew into his yard to sit out by his fire pit, an early summer breeze making St. Louis unseasonably cold. He came back with two glasses, and you tried simply to ignore that his hands were big enough to hold both glasses in one, “So, Brady’s at a party at your ex-boyfriend’s place and you’re not mad at him at all?”

“I can’t be mad at Brady,” You explain, pouring yourself a glass of wine that was just a bit too big, “He doesn’t know what happened.”

“I thought you had no secrets,” Matthew questions, knowing that Brady knew everything about you and you were the same way. You turned your attention to the glass, swirling it in your hand while you seemed to shut down under Matthew’s gaze, “Y/N… it’s me, you know you can tell me.”

“It’s really embarrassing,” You whisper, “He cheated on me…”

“That’s not your fault,” Matthew scoffs, throwing an arm around your shoulders, “Why didn’t you tell-”

“He told me it was because the girl he was hooking up with was better in bed than me,” You whisper, Matthew closing his mouth immediately. He took a deep breath, his fingers scratching against your scalp while he looked straight ahead, “Please don’t tell Brady.”

“Your secret’s safe with me,” Matthew nods, his bottom lip between his teeth, “You’re perfect, and if he doesn’t see that he can go fuck himself.”

“What if he’s right?” You ask, taking a gulp of your drink. Matthew knew what road you were headed towards, one that was going to leave you insecure about this for the rest of your life if Matthew didn’t choose his next words carefully.

“He’s not,” Matthew shakes his head, hopping off the outdoor sofa you were on and kneeling down in front of you, “And you don’t need some douchebags opinion to make yourself feel good.”

“Would you sleep with me?” You ask, Matthew’s hand that had been rubbing your thighs gently stopped. You craved the validation, and a part of you always wondered if you had a shot with Matthew. If you were both able to drown out the noise from your friends and family, would he want you? Matthew’s hand crept up to your cheek, his thumb tracing your lip. You looked at him like this was the most important question he’d ever have to answer, and like if he said yes your lips would be on his, “And tell me I’m good.”

Matthew shut his eyes, running every possible scenerio knowing all of them include him fucking this up and hurting your feelings, but he couldn’t stop himself from trying. His lips ghosted over yours, stubble rough against your skin, “You’re sure about this?”

“Please,” You pout, not even bothering to give Matthew your best sexy face. You’d faked it enough, a year of trying to be something you weren’t to please some asshole who left for someone else anyways. Matthew’s hands slid on either side of you, his lips against yours and your hands on the back of his neck.

“Inside,” Matthew mutters against your lips, knowing if he didn’t stop himself now his new neighbors would get a show they didn’t ask for. You deserved better than that anyways. You snuck inside, your lips pressing kisses to Matthew’s neck while his arm stayed around your waist until you ended up in his bedroom. The back of your knees hit the edge of the bed, Matthew crawling on top of you, “I cannot believe that asshole let you slip through his fingers like that.”

“Make me forget about him then,” You let out a breath, Matthew smirking against your skin when you lit up that competitive fire he’d always had. You tugged at the bottom of his shirt, Matthew taking the hint and grabbing it from the back of his neck to toss off. Matthew’s hands slid under your shirt, unhooking your bra and swirling his finger around your nipples, pulling a moan from you.

“You even moan pretty,” Matthew could believe it, knowing just how many dreams like this, but really hearing it was something else entirely. Matthew shed your clothes quickly, leaving you just in your panties while he pressed kisses against your skin, murmurs of praise left in their wake.

“Matty,” You whimper, tilting Matthew’s chin up from where it was nestling between your thighs, “No one’s ever made me cum like this before.”

Matthew swore he was going to blow right there. The way your eyes looked into his, a trust that you were giving him that it was becoming clear you’d never given anyone. If it was anyone else, Matthew’s cocky nature would have broken through, a challenge accepted attitude that he couldn’t have with you.

You weren’t nervous but it wasn’t some secret that Matthew got around, and admitting something that seemed as trivial as what you’d told him was a big deal to you. Matthew’s blue eyes were soft, a small smile on his face, “We’ll go slow baby.”

And slow it was, Matthew was patient, trying to figure out what was going to get you off. His tongue was lapping at your core slowly, smirking at the way you squirmed whenever he got close to your clit. Your hands were in his hair, curling his overgrown hair around your fingers. Matthew’s tongue flicked your clit, your soft grip on his curls tighter, “Fuck, sorry-”

“Keep tugging on them,” Matthew groans against you, the vibrations sending a chill up your spine. His fingers were digging into your thighs, undoubtedly leaving a mark to worry about later, but you didn’t care. Matthew was eating your pussy like it was his last fucking meal, growing harder from the way you were moaning his name. You were close, your hips lifting off the bed and Matthew’s hands against your stomach to keep you right where you were. The only sounds echoing through that house were the ones from your orgasm, washing over you while Matthew finally pulled away. His finger swiped your core, sucking your cum off his finger, “Fucking delicious…”

You could feel the heat on your cheeks, holding your arm over your face from Matthew’s praise. He let out a light laugh, pulling your arm down and pressing a kiss to your forehead, “Don’t be insecure, when you’re with me you don’t have to be.”

You didn’t have a second to process his words, the way say with me like this was something meant to last more than a night, because Matthew’s lips were back on yours. Your hand snuck between you, palming him through his sweats and swallowing the groan with your lips, “I want to try something.”

Matthew’s brows raised, letting you push him onto his back without a fight. You’d never been the most confident in the bedroom, and you really never tried anything that wasn’t missionary, but something about Matthew’s praise had your head held high. You grind your hips against him, a smug smile on Matthew’s face, “You’ve never been on top before?”

You shook your head no, biting your lip and waiting for why have you had the most boring sex life imaginable laugh that should have followed. It never came, instead Matthew’s hands gripped your hips and lifted you up so he could kick off his sweats and boxers. His hand fell, searching through his bedside table for a condom, tearing it open with his teeth and rolling it onto his cock. He tapped your clit with the head, his thumb that was still gripping you was rubbing softly against your skin, “Whenever you’re ready babe.”

Matthew watched you sink yourself onto him slowly, biting his lip to stop himself from cumming too soon because this was hotter than anything he could have imagined. All of those fantasies included finding out you were secretly dirty as hell, but finding out you weren’t and the trust you seemed to give Matthew because he’d never done you wrong was even sexier. Matthew’s hands guided your hips slowly, his head thrown back from the pleasure, “Am I doing good?”

“You’re doing fucking wonderful baby,” Matthew groans, grabbing a fistful of your ass. You moan, falling forward and kissing Matthew’s jaw lightly. He threw his arm around your back, fucking up into you at faster pace, “I want you cum again, c’mon.”

“Matty, I-” You whimper, a protest that you didn’t think you had another one in you until your pussy clenched around him. Your legs were shaking, Matthew stopping himself before he got too rough with you. You caught your breath for a second, Matthew pushing your hair away from your face so he could kiss you. His kisses were gentle, a stark contrast from the fact that his cock was still buried inside of you. You tried to move, grind your hips against his to get him off like he’d just done to you, but your hips bucked from the sensitivity.

“Slow down babe,” Matthew hums, his large hand rubbing your back gently, “We’ll get there.”

Getting there wasn’t hard at all. Not after Matthew had you on your back so he could keep fucking you. You looked beautiful, moaning his own name below him like you’d never said anyone’s name like that. Matthew’s head was tucked into your neck, the sounds of his skin slapping against yours filling the room until he finally came with a loud groan.

When you finally came down from the after sex high, a realization washed over you. You’d had sex with your best friend’s brother. The same brother you’d spend years of your life with. Matthew walked into his bathroom, grabbing you a warm washcloth and a clean shirt from his closet. He got back into his room, glancing at the way you were looking around his room with his sheets over your chest unsure of whether or not you should leave. Matthew leans down, pressing a kiss to your lips, “I want you to stay.”

“You don’t have to let me-” You start to protest, a weird feeling in your chest you couldn’t quite describe. You were a relationship type, hook ups weren’t your playing field and you knew Matthew lived by them. You never forgot it either, the way he slugged back a beer and looked Brady and yourself dead in the eyes and told you he swore he wasn’t built to last more than a night. Matthew chuckles, cleaning you up and throwing his shirt over your frame. He laid down next to you, pulling you against his chest and kissing your shoulder.

“I want you to stay here,” Matthew assures you, smiling wide when you tucked yourself into his side.

Hey Matty?

Yeah?

Don’t tell Brady about this.

Secret’s safe with me Y/N.

[httpnxtt]

Wallpaper - Reid x Reader

A/N: Hello Lovelies! I attempted some pure fluff this time to show my love to my bby, @spencer-reid-in-a-pool​ ! I wanted to shower her with love and this was the only way I could think how, so I hope you enjoy! Shoutout to @imagining-in-the-margins​ for the adorable prompt! You’re amazing and ily! 

Also shout out to my amazing beta buddies, @sunlight-moonrise​ , @clean-bands-dirty-stories​ , and @definitelynotkatesblog​ !

Spencer Reid x Reader

Category: FLUFFY FLUFF

Warnings: None!

Word Count: 4.2k

Masterlist

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In the world of darkness that surrounds our lives, it’s important to find the light in the world. Luckily for me, our paperwork days meant being sat across from my best friend, Spencer Reid. The man whose smile lit the entire room, who could drop everything in an instant for someone he loves; who makes my days brighter at the simplest, “Hi.” The curly-haired genius spends his days surrounded by the worst humans in existence, using his brain to help the world before helping himself. With his IQ of 187, his mind works a million miles a minute, but sometimes he still needs help. That’s where my job comes in. 

I joined the BAU a year ago, and was instantly drawn to the resident genius. He was timid when I first met him, as if scared the world would break him with everything it decided to throw at the sweet man. Slowly, I captured the heart of our resident genius, who was now my best friend. Over the course of the years, he became my favorite person. On cases, I would make sure he took time to drink water and rest when possible, bringing him snacks when his brain was wrapped in his geological profile. I made it my mission to teach the genius to love himself as much as he loves others. 

Paperwork days were when I really got to see his bright smile and soft laughter. It became a running joke between us. Whenever Spencer would get up to grab us coffee from the kitchen, I would steal his phone to change the wallpaper to something silly. Every time he would check his phone for updates, he would see a new silly picture and grace me with a shining smile and chuckle. Even for these split moments in time, I knew I had distracted him from the morbid things littering our desks. His smile lit up the bullpen, leaving butterflies fluttering around in my stomach, my own smile gracing my lips. He would always shake his head before changing it back, already knowing he would find a new wallpaper later that day. Luckily for me, today was a long, dragging paperday which means I had plenty of time to meet my Spencer-Smile quota for the day. 

First thing this morning, I got my hands on his cell. Pre-coffee brain, the only thing I could think of was the most ridiculous picture of our own Derek Morgan. The image was one Penelope graced me with, a photo he attached when shamelessly flirting with her during our downtime. As quickly as I could, I set the lockscreen and gently placed the device back on his desk, almost in the right spot although I’m sure Spencer would notice it had been moved. I sit back in my chair, slowly starting to spin as I see Spencer make his way back to our desks, two mugs in hand as his glasses begin to slide down the bridge of his nose. I shoot up to wrap my hands around the steaming mug, the warmth like a warm hug. I pull the mug up to my face, smelling the delicious scent of coffee created perfectly to my specifications. Sometimes boy genius’ memory has its perks. Settling back at my desk, I sort through the mound of files for the day in anticipation. 

Looking up from my own cases, I look across to Spencer who has his face buried in a file, his finger trailing down the pages taking my mind into places it shouldn’t go. After an hour he still hasn’t seen his wallpaper, plastering a frown on my face. I pull out my own device, immediately texting a gif of Stitch saying hi to “Pretty Boy”, hearing his phone ding almost immediately. Looking across to Spencer, he almost spits out his coffee seeing the ever flirtatious Derek Morgan gracing his screen. The reaction sent me into a whirlwind of laughter, my head thrown back, almost cackling at the poor man. 

As I calm down, wiping the tears from under my eyes, I see Spencer looking at me with his signature smile, making my heart flutter. 

“That was a good one, Y/N. You really got me this time.” He chuckles, looking at this screen again before looking back at me. “Might have been your best one yet,” he says as he works to change it back. The poor technophobe had to learn because of me how to change his wallpaper since he realized I wouldn’t stop anytime soon. He’s still a tad slow but watching him try to work through it makes my heart happy as I return to my own files. 

As I try to work through my own files, an IM from the tech queen herself pings my computer. 

P.Garcia: “Changed Boy Wonder’s wallpaper again? When are you going to tell him?! Your puppy eyes give you away, darling. You can’t lie to me.”

Y/N: “Darling Penelope, I would never lie to you. Alas, you continue shipping something that will never sail..” I reply to her, hoping she gets the gist.

Although Spencer lives in my thoughts rent free, that’s where he’ll stay. As much as I wanted him in my arms instead, it simply wasn’t going to happen. I close my messages before trying to actually get some work done. I’d rather not stay late yet again due to my tendency to be a bit scatterbrained. 

***

Coffee break number two rolls around and I already have the perfect picture planned. Reid scurries into the kitchen desperate for more coffee and I rush to his desk. Pulling out his phone, I send an image to it before saving it. It is one of my all time favorites. A movie night Spencer and I shared. I convinced him to let me pamper him under the reasoning of some well deserved self-care. Surprisingly, the man went along with my antics, although fighting me on this gem. The image is a sneaky one that Reid doesn’t even know exists. During our self-care night, I tried to take pictures of him looking as cute as ever, but he kept blocking me. Luckily, Spencer fell asleep before his mask came off leaving the perfect opportunity to snap the evidence. There is Spencer in all his glory, curled up on my couch in the light blue robe I saved for him that was covered in little clouds, a purple face-mask clinging to his cheeks, trying to avoid his eyebrows.To top it all off, he wore a bright pink headband to push his hair back decorated with bunny ears. The picture shows the soft side of our boy, a side I wished he would show more. 

Throwing his phone back on his pile of files, I sit back at my desk, nonchalantly sipping my now cold coffee. Seeing Reid shuffle back to his desk, I wait for him to pick up his phone with my mug resting against my mouth. Spencer readjusts his frames as he settles in his chair, looking me in the eyes before looking at his phone. Instead of his normal chuckle, a pout graces his plush lips. Although his lips are normally a favorite of mine to stare at, the pout twists my gut. 

“I thought you didn’t get any pictures of me that night,” he mumbles, giving me puppy eyes that could give mine a run for their money. 

Despite my pride in the picture, his tone makes me feel just a little guilty. “I’m sorry, Spence, I thought you were so cute when you were napping. I didn’t want to make you upset.” I pout, the butterflies disintegrating as the moments pass. Rummaging through my drawer, I find my sack of trail mix and toss it to the dark-eyed man. “Here, take my trail mix, I know it’s your favorite,” I offer, a small smile painted on my face. Spencer’s eyes land on me, lips turning up once more into the smile that never fails to take my breath away. 

“I appreciate it, but I can’t take it. I know it’s basically the only thing you eat on your lunch break.” His call out causes heat to rise into my face. 

I stay insistent though. “I want you to have it. I don’t like making you sad.” I shoot back, giving him my infamous puppy eyes. Even Aaron Hotchner falls for them, there is no way the doctor could resist. 

“Okay,” he starts, automatically having me rush across to his desk to give him the snack. “On one condition,” He finishes, making my face fall once more. Spencer never lets people just give him a present, he always does more for others. “Since you’re giving me your snack, you come with me to get a proper lunch since you need food and I could use the hour away from these files.” He smiles at me, already munching on the trail mix so I have no choice but to agree. 

“Deal. BUT, I want pancakes if we’re going,” I reason with him, plopping back in my chair. 

“IHOP it is.” He chuckles, the sound resonating in my brain as we both hurry through our respective files. 

***

At coffee break number three, Reid stands from his desk, scrunching his nose to fix his glasses as he reaches across to snatch my mug from my desk. Hiding my face in the file until he walks away, I turn to see him shaking his head, knowing I’m about to change his wallpaper yet again. 

Once I see him turn the corner, I stretch over to grab his phone he conveniently left square in the middle of his desk, giving the man yet another excuse to talk to her. Flipping through the camera roll, I hear a chuckle from the desk a few feet away. Looking over, I find the one and only, Derek Morgan shaking his head at me. 

“What’s so funny, Thunder? Sad the attention isn’t on you anymore?” I tease him while trying to find the perfect picture. 

“I just find the pining that goes on between two supposedly brilliant people entertaining.” He chuckles as my jaw drops, turning to him. “Come on, Princess. You don’t think we don’t all know you and Pretty Boy fancy each other, do you? It’s obvious to everyone except the boy himself.”

I shake my head. “He’d never see me that way, Morgan. This is just for shits and giggles.” I breathe out, settling on an image of our feet in front of the TV screen, mismatched socks adorning our feet while “Beauty and the Beast” plays in the background. He sports a neon pink sock along with a navy blue sock covered in planets, while my feet claimed one sock covered in different moon phases, the other covered in little alien creatures. Placing his phone on his desk, I settle back at my own, shooting Morgan a closing, “You’re just seeing things, Morgan.” before burying myself back in the file at hand. 

Moments later, my mug is sat directly in front of me before Reid sits at his own desk. Automatically picking up his phone to check, my tummy flutters at the smile he releases while staring at the screen for a moment before looking at me. Making eye contact, I notice a slight pink tint to his cheeks, before he looks back at the image.

“This might be my favorite one yet,” he murmurs, adjusting his glasses without looking away from the screen. I feel my cheeks heat up, getting warmer by the second, but I cannot tear my eyes from the man who holds my heart without even knowing it. 

***

“Hey Y/N. Ready for lunch?” Spencer asks, tearing my eyes from the IMs Garcia floods me with daily. 

“Ready when you are!” I reply, jumping at the opportunity to get away from the files scattered on my desk. You’d think serial killers would take a day off sometimes. Shuffling to my feet, I grab my keys from my desk and grab Spencer’s hand, dragging him to the elevator with me.

“Seems like it’s more ready when Y/N is.” He chuckles, straightening his glasses once he comes to a stop in front of the silver doors. As we step in, Garcia frantically waves at us, before sprinting into the bullpen as the doors close.

“Well, you’re in luck, Pretty Boy. You get me as your personal chauffeur to lunch.” I beam at him as he goes bug-eyed.

“Lucky? In your death trap, Y/N?” He chuckles, putting a flabbergasted look on my face.

“Hey!” I yell at him, playfully elbowing him in the ribs. “My car has lasted 15 long years I’ll have you know, and she runs as smooth as ever,” I shoot back, immediately leaving him behind when the doors open. “Maybe I’ll just go get pancakes without you then.” It’s playful when I lock all the car doors except for mine, and he knows it.

That doesn’t stop him from playing along. “Okay, okay, I’m sorry Y/N! Will you ever forgive my poor soul?” he jokes, holding both his hands over his heart as he begs for forgiveness. Unlocking the doors, I giggle at his antics before heading to the restaurant. 

***

“Y’all ready to order, or do you need a few more minutes?” The server returns to the table with our coffees, along with an apple juice for my inner child. 

“Yes ma’am. Can I get the plain pancakes with eggs, as well as a side of bacon and sausage?” Spencer asks while gathering both our menus for her. “Of course, sugar. What about you darlin’?” she turns to me as Spencer dumps almost the entire sugar container into his mug. 

“I’ll just have the chocolate chip pancake, please!” I smile at her as I steal what’s left of the sugar from the man across from me. 

“No problem, that’ll be right out for y’all.” She smiles at us before heading off to the kitchen. 

“Did you know chocolate chips were invented by Ruth Wakefield because she decided to chop up a chocolate bar and add it to her cookie batter?” Spencer looks to me as he starts with factoids. “And white chocolate isn’t even truly chocolate! White chocolate is made with a blend of sugar, cocoa butter, milk products, vanilla, and a fatty substance called lecithin. Not that it’s a surprise, considering it doesn’t even taste like chocolate. Probably because it doesn't contain chocolate solids.” he rambles as I stare at him with stars in my eyes. “However, dark chocolate is loaded with organic compounds that are biologically active and function as antioxidants. These include polyphenols, flavanols and catechins, among others. Dark chocolate also has a list of different benefits proven from consumption.” He finishes, taking a sip of his coffee as I continue staring at the man.

“What ever would I do without you, Boy Wonder?” I say, seeing Spencer’s face heat up at my remark as he hides behind his mug. 

“M-me?” He asks, as if he couldn’t believe it. He shakes his head in disbelief before I could respond, showering me with many more factoids while waiting for our food rather than accept my compliment.

“Alright, here’s your food darlin’. Let me know if there’s anything else I could do for y’all.” The server tells us, shooting us a smile before moving onto another table. Spencer takes his time cutting up his food, dousing his plate in more syrup than pancake. Meanwhile, I dig into my pancakes as if it’s the last thing I will ever eat. 

Halfway through my own pancakes, I look up to see Spencer looking directly at me with a look I couldn’t quite distinguish. 

“Why are you staring at me?” I ask him, almost seeming to pull him from a trance before responding. 

“Oh. Uh, you have chocolate on your face.” He tells me, seeing my face flush at the information. I grab my napkin and quickly wipe my lips making sure not to miss a spot. Little did I know, there wasn’t a single speck on my face. 

“Is it gone?” I ask him, hoping not to embarrass myself further. 

“Oh, yeah it’s gone.” he smiles, returning his focus onto his own plate. 

Going back to eating, I keep sneaking pieces of the bacon off Spencer’s plate, causing him to smile each time. 

“Hey Spence. I have a question for you.” I tell him, shoving a piece of bacon in my mouth. 

“And what would that be, Y/N?” He asks me, sipping his coffee. 

“Why is it every time we come here you order sausage and bacon, if you never touch the bacon?” I ask him, looking at him with a puzzled expression. 

“Would you like my honest answer?” He pushes back, as if I would want anything else from him. I nod with a mouth full of pancakes, earning a smile while he responds. “Because I know you’ll always steal the bacon from my plate but will never actually order it yourself.” He smiles at me, returning to his own food leaving me speechless and even more red.

Finishing up our plates, Spencer takes initiative to organize all of the empty dishes so our server has less work. Giggling at his antics, I pull out my phone to check the time, seeing we still have plenty of time before our break is over. 

“Are we getting milkshakes?” he asks me, sipping the last of his coffee before adding the mug to his carefully organized dish-pile. 

“Of course we’re getting milkshakes, what kind of question is that, Spencer?” I look at him, almost appalled he would assume we weren’t. “We each have a sweet tooth I’ve ever seen matched by anyone else, why would you ever assume I would say no to a milkshake?”

“I wasn’t sure if we had the time, I didn’t want to make us late.” He explains, shaking his head yet again at my child-like antics. 

When the server returns, we both order the largest mint-chip shakes they had before returning to our usual banter in waiting. Not long after, the server returned with a single shake. 

“I’m so sorry sugar, apparently we only had enough ingredients for one mint-chip. Can I get y’all something else?” The server asks us, feeling bad she couldn’t fulfill our order. 

“You take the mint-chip, Spence. I’ll order something else.” I push the shake toward him as he blocks it from getting to him. 

“It’s okay, Y/N. I’m not worried about it.” He replies, fighting me over a milkshake. 

“Spence-” I begin to argue before he abruptly cuts me off. 

“Would you like to share the shake with me, Y/N?” he asks me, looking me directly in the eye. I froze for a moment, taken aback at the offer from the germaphobe in front of me.

“If that’s okay with you, Spence. Then, sure!” I respond, checking if it was okay with him. 

“I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t okay, Y/N.” He shoots back, chuckling at me before asking the server for two straws. The man in front of me steals more and more of my heart with every passing moment.

***

Going up the elevator to the BAU was a constant battle between us. Spencer secretly gave the server his card so I wouldn’t even have a chance to fight him on paying. 

“You gave me your trail mix, Y/N! That’s the whole reason I asked you to get lunch in the first place! Why would I let you pay when I extended the invitation?” He shoots at me as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. Shooting him a look of discontent, we both sit back at our desks, feeling 2 pairs of eyes staring at us from a few desks over. 

“Don’t look now, but I think Tweedledee and Tweedledum are staring at us.” I lean over to whisper. Reid tries his best to look up at them, nonchalant as possible. Despite the boy being a genius, he is anything but sly, looking just in time to see Derek and Penelope snap their heads to whatever was on his desk. Giving them a smile, Reid picks up his own file to return to his own tasks for the day. However, the task only lasted so long before the genius needed yet another cup of coffee for the day. Heading off to the kitchen, I quickly grab the phone he left on his desk on his break, trying to plan the perfect image. 

Before I could get far, I was abruptly stopped in my tracks. Staring at the homescreen on his phone, I couldn’t understand how I hadn’t noticed this before. Had this been in front of my face the entire time? Staring at the screen, I see myself and Spencer from our weekly movie nights. I had all of our silly photos, yet I had never seen this one. I see myself, puffed out cheeks with my eyes crossed, pulling at my ears to make myself look like a monkey, but my eyes can only look at Spencer. He hadn’t made his silly face. Instead, the man before me is staring directly at me, the sweetest smile across his lips. His little nose scrunch in full effect, his beautiful hazel eyes creased in the corner from his smile. That smile that could melt my heart in two seconds flat. Staring at the screen for what felt like centuries, I refocus on my surroundings when I hear his soft voice behind me. 

“Wow, Y/N. Getting a little slow with the changes now, are we?” He laughs, before noticing the look on my face. Stopping dead in his tracks, he looks at me confused more than ever. Not being able to form words, I raise my hand to show him the wallpaper, the perfect image of us. His eyes go wide, his mug almost slipping through his fingers.

“Y/N, I-” He starts. 

“Spence… Where did this picture come from?” I ask him, looking back at the screen before me. “I’ve never seen this one before,” I whisper, before Spencer puts his hands over mine, the mug now living on his desk. 

“I, uh. I took this one before making a face, I just couldn’t resist.” He whispers, pulling my chin up gently between his two fingers, looking me dead in the eye. “Y/N…” He starts, glancing down before gazing back at me with the same look I saw at the restaurant. “I couldn’t resist because I wanted to keep a physical copy of one of the happiest moments of my life. And I care about you... More than care about you! You make my days so much brighter when you’re around. You’re the only person to ever know me, the real me. And I..” he trails off, working his confidence up to finish his thought. “I love you, Y/N. And that picture was saved, locked away on my phone so I could be reminded how much you mean to me, and how much you care on some of my darkest days. I love you, Y/N. It’s the only thing I have locked away because it’s the moment I knew I was in love with you.” He finishes, breathing out as he waits for me to react. Stunned into silence, I stand there looking at the man, seeing his face turn to panic. “It’s okay if you do-” He starts, stunned when he is cut off by his plush lips being covered by my own. He slides his hand onto my cheek, holding my face as he returns the affection. 

Pulling away, I look him dead in the eye, I pull out of his embrace to my own desk, grabbing my phone. Returning to his side, I unlock my phone to show him my own hidden homescreen, a grin spreading on my cheeks from the flood of emotion. From our self-care night, it is quite possibly my favorite image of the man. He was in his robe, bunny headband and mask, but he was trying to block the images from being taken. His hand was raised in an attempt, but I could hear the laughter radiate from the image, the smile making my heart swoon at every glance. Looking between me and the image, Spencer’s jaw drops at my own revelation, before pulling me into a bone-crushing hug. Burying my face in his neck, I murmur my own “I love you.” Before a whistle from the peanut gallery beside us breaks it up. 

Shooting a look to Penelope, I see she has the biggest smile plastered on her own face, her rosy cheeks probably stinging from the sheer joy painted on. Morgan sitting beside her lounges back in his own chair, shooting a wink our way. 

Returning to our respective seats, I can’t help but steal glances at the man beside me. When he catches me, I can’t help but giggle.

“Hey Spence. How long was I oblivious to your homescreen?” I ask him, curious as to how much of a dumbass I truly was. Seeing his cheeks flush pink, he turns to me with guilt in his eyes, 

“Y/N.. as much as I would love to take the credit, I don’t know where the wallpaper came from. I can barely change it back after you mess with it.” He confesses, a shy smile on his face. Laughing at his technophobe ways, it finally registers that he didn’t actually set the wallpaper. 

“Wait, then who changed it?” I ask him, before hearing stilettos and boots scurrying down the hall, laughter trailing behind them. Looking back at my boy, those eyes stole all my words away, and that smile… the smile I had seen so many times before but never knew the intention, the smile I fell in love with, I knew he would forever be my always.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Taglist: @spencer-reid-in-a-pool​  @redbullchick​  @samanddeanstolethetardis221b​   @reidetic​ @gretaamyk​ @sunlight-moonrise​ @prettyricky187​ @rileysann​ @itslatinamagia​ @timey-wimey-lovi​  @pinkdiamond1016​

[gingeralepdf]

Walk On By - Part 1

shoutout to @harrylefleur​ for this^ amazing edit!! thanks again for letting me use it, it’s perfect!!

A/N: hello!! i’ve been slowly cooking up this 70s dealer!harry au (also known as shroomrry) fic ever since the first italy pics surfaced. i had a lot of fun writing this, so i hope you have fun reading it! another massive thank you to brailey @daydreamsofh​ for yelling about shroomrry with me since the very first rough draft. your encouragement and support means so much to me!! ily <3

****DISCLAIMER/WARNING: This fic includes scenes in which characters purchase and consume recreational drugs (psilocybin mushrooms) as well as purchase and consume alcohol. If any of this makes you uncomfortable, please do not feel pressured to read or interact with this fic. And do not consume if you are underage.****

You’re simply buying magic mushrooms from Harry. However, if you keep running into each other, is it going to stay that simple?

word count: ~5k

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**August 30th, 1977, Inglewood, California**

The evening sun beats down on you as soon as you step off the bus. You walk away from the door before reaching for the sunglasses hanging from the collar of your shirt and slip them onto your face before wiping the small beads of sweat from your brow.

“Stuffiest bus ride of my life.” Your roommate and partner in crime, Jenny, walks over to your side. She leans her head back and groans toward the sky, as if to broadcast her misery to anyone that will listen.

“Really? I thought it was a five star experience,” you reply flatly.

Jenny scoffs and looks at you in disgust before shoving your shoulder. “What bus were you on then?”

Your laughs quickly turn into blissful sighs of relief when a breeze picks up. A brief intermission from the heat and residual stickiness on your skin from the crowded bus ride.

“You’ve still got the tickets and the money, right?” Jenny asks.

“Yep.” You pat your purse. “You’ve still got that guy’s license plate number, right?”

Jenny reaches into her pocket and pulls out a folded piece of paper, “Yep.”

**********************************

The sign outside of the Forum looms over your heads as you enter the parking lot. The large black letters on the sign simply read ‘FLEETWOOD MAC. NIGHT TWO. SOLD OUT’. Even more gigantic is the Forum itself. You’ve been to a couple of shows at this venue before today, but you still can’t get over just how massive it is. It makes you feel so small even when you’re standing one hundred feet away from it.

Your mind begins to buzz with excitement and anticipation knowing that you’ll soon be inside seeing possibly one of the most in-demand shows of the year. It’s incredibly lucky that you were able to score these tickets anyway. Having a job at a radio station definitely has its perks.

You’re pulled out of your thoughts by Jenny’s nudging elbow. She holds the paper that has the numbers and letters of a license plate number scrawled on it in front of both of you.

“He drives a blue Pontiac Tempest. He said he was gonna try to park in the third row,” she says.

Both of you look at the paper for a minute, trying to commit the number to memory before setting out to comb the parking lot in search of this mystery man.

With all the other people milling around and gathering in the line outside of the venue, you wonder how many of these people are on a similar mission as you and your friend.

You turn to Jenny, “Do you know what this Harry guy looks like?”

“Uh,” Jenny draws out before pulling her gaze from the line of cars beside her. “My cousin Kathryn said he’s white,” she begins listing things off on her fingers, “has brown hair, has a lot of tattoos, and he’s British,” she looks at you and wiggles her eyebrows.

Jenny laughs when you roll your eyes, “Oh my god I know he’s British. You’ve been going on and on about how he sounded on the phone.” You walk a few more paces before asking, “How does she know him again?”

“They work together at the record store. You probably would have already met him if you weren’t so pretentious about where you buy your records.”

You switch from scanning over license plates to squinting at Jenny, “I’m not pretentious, the owner of that place is just an asshole.”

“You say that about nearly every record store owner.”

“Only the ones that are fifty year old men who constantly degrade female customers’ music tastes.”

Jenny sighs. “Yeah, you’re right. Most of them are assholes.”

“Hey, maybe with your business degree you can be the first record store owner that’s not an asshole.”

She smiles at you and taps her temple with her index finger. “That’s not a bad idea.” Her eyes flit over your shoulder. She stops abruptly and grabs your arm, “Oh-- hey, I think that’s him right there.”

You turn to follow her gaze. Immediately you spot the blue car. You both take another look at the note in Jenny’s hand. Sure enough, the license plate on the car in front of you is a perfect match.

So this is Harry. He has his head down and his eyebrows are furrowed in concentration just beneath the frames of his yellow sunglasses. There’s a pencil behind his right ear and his left elbow is resting on the door frame, sticking out of his rolled down window, while his fingers are mindlessly fiddling with his neat mustache. On that same arm, you see scattered tattoos that begin at his wrist and run all the way up into the sleeve of his green and white striped t-shirt. You weren’t sure what you had been expecting of this man, but you can’t help but be struck by how handsome he is. The low hanging sun is casting golden light through his back window, shining through the ends of his brown tousled hair.

The pressure of a hand on your back pushing you forward causes you to whip around.

“Could you go talk to him?” Jenny asks softly.

You give her a ‘what are you talking about?’ look, “You’ve already spoken to him on the phone, Jen, he doesn’t know me.”

“I mentioned you,” she pleads. “Ugh I know I talked to him on the phone but now that I see him in person I’m too nervous.”

You take another look at Harry and look back to Jenny. “Okay, come on.”

As you get closer to his car with Jenny trailing behind you, you begin to hear the music blasting from his radio. Hearing the chorus of “Dancing Queen” somehow makes this situation a touch less intimidating.

You take your sunglasses off your face and hang them from the collar of your shirt. You  clear your throat once you feel like you’re close enough, hoping this would catch his attention. When he doesn’t move, you open your mouth only to realize that you have no idea what you want to say.

“Um,” you hesitantly mumble to yourself as you reach up and knock on the top frame of his window.

He slightly jumps and pulls his arm into the car in response. He mutters a ‘fucks sake’ before quickly turning his head to you, his eyebrows now creased in aggravation.

You jerk your hand back to your side. You’re not sure if it’s the pressure of having to do the talking or his intense stare, but you suddenly can't seem to string a full sentence together.

“Hi. Sorry. I, er--, we... um. We were supposed to--”

Harry looks past you to glance at Jenny and his face softens. He reaches over to turn the radio down before pointing his finger between the two of you, “Kathryn’s friends?”

“Yes,” you sigh in relief.

He nods, brushes a few stray hairs from his forehead and tilts his head toward the passenger seat. “Yeah, come on in.”

Hearing his soft British accent is a lot more endearing than Jenny’s annoying impressions of what he sounded like on the phone.

Jenny follows you around to the passenger side door and you pull on the handle.

When it doesn’t open, you reach through the window for the lock. You freeze when Harry’s hand meets yours. You lower your head slightly to look through the window and see him leaned over, still staring at your hands that are both grabbing the lever. He looks up at you and slightly shakes his head.

“Sorry,” he mumbles as he pulls his hand away and reaches to lean the passenger seat forward.

You open the door and gesture for Jenny to climb in first. After you get in and close the door behind you, you plop down in the back seat next to Jenny, who’s sitting behind Harry. You do your best to hold back a hiss when the heat from the light blue leather seats burns through your trousers and the back of your thin t-shirt.

The car smells fresh and is very tidy aside from a few crushed gum packages on the floorboard. Two little tree air fresheners hang from his rearview mirror, swaying in the slight breeze. You peep down to his dashboard and smile.

“I like your stickers,” you blurt out, pointing to the smiley face sticker and the strawberry sticker above the volume and tuning dials on his radio. Mostly, you’re trying to make amends for startling him a second ago, but you’re also trying to dispel some of your nerves that are still fluttering around in your stomach. The mental image of him peeling stickers from a sheet and putting them on there himself seems to be helping a little bit.

“Thanks.” He cracks a smile over his shoulder. You catch a glimpse of a dimple indenting his cheek. You visibly relax your shoulders upon seeing a change in his demeanor. “Would you mind reminding me of your names?” He asks, taking a glance at his rearview mirror.

You both introduce yourselves.

“So it was you that I spoke with on the phone last week?” he asks, turning in his seat and looking at Jenny.

“Yeah, that was me,” she grins.

“Right,” he huffs. “So I know what you’re both really here for but,” he trails off as he reaches into his lap and holds up a folded newspaper, displaying the daily crossword puzzle. “Are either of you any good at these?” He shakes his head, “I’ve got like... three left and it’s driving me crazy.”

Jenny hums as she takes the paper from Harry’s hand and holds it up between you. Coincidentally, Jenny happens to be very good at these puzzles, often taking this same section out of the paper every day.

She puts her finger up to the page and begins counting the boxes in one of the columns. “Fourteen down is ‘questionnaire’.”

As you skim over the page, you catch an error that could be hanging him up. “And seven across is misspelled. ‘Memento’ should start with M- E- instead of M- O-.”

Both of you look back up at Harry and Jenny hands the paper back.

In the same motion he takes the paper from Jenny and takes the pencil from behind his ear. He sets the paper on his center console and brings his bottom lip between his teeth as he erases and fills in the boxes on the puzzle.

You and Jenny exchange a private laugh. If anyone had asked the both of you to predict how this interaction was going to go, this would not be part of it.

“Well. Thanks. It probably would have taken me forever to get those.” He tosses the paper and pencil on the floorboard in front of the passenger seat and uses his finger to push his sunglasses back up the bridge of his nose. “Now, do you have cash with you?”

The shift in his tone catches you off guard, the friendly lilt in his voice being replaced by one more quiet and flat.

Jenny looks over at you.

“Oh yeah, sorry.” You pull four ten dollar bills from your purse and hand them to Harry.

He fans them out before folding them twice and putting them in his pocket. He opens his console. There’s some shuffling before he closes it again and carefully passes you two small envelopes. “Should be one gram in each of those.”

You lean forward in an attempt to shield your actions from people who may be passing by. Carefully, you break the tape seals across the front of the envelopes with your thumb and take a peek inside. Satisfied with the amount of shriveled mushrooms you see, you reseal the envelopes and stuff them into your purse.

“You’ve both taken these before, right?” Harry asks.

“Yeah, a few times before this,” Jenny says.

“Nice. So you know they usually take about half an hour to start working and you’re probably in for about four to six hours of effects and all that?”

“Yeah,” you and Jenny say in unison.

“Okay, I just-- I always want to make sure, you know?” Harry scratches his chin and looks to the side in thought. “Did you drive here?”

You shake your head. “No, we took the bus. And Alice, our friend, is gonna pick us up after the concert.”

He nods, “Okay, good.” He lowers his voice. “The last thing I’ll say is I’ve seen quite a few cops around so… if I were you I’d duck into a bathroom or something to take those.” He slightly raises his hands, “But obviously all of that’s up to the both of you so…” he trails off and shrugs. “Ultimately I hope you both have fun.” He looks at you with a sincerity that puts you at ease. It makes you feel a lot better that he seems to genuinely care about both of you being safe and having an enjoyable experience. You can’t say the same for other dealers you’ve come in contact with.

“We’ll just see what happens I guess,” you shrug back.

“I think we should head in now.” Jenny says, craning her head past Harry to look at the line of people. She pats the back of his seat. “Thanks so much, we really appreciate it.”

“Sure, was great to meet you both.”

“Was good to meet you. Are you going to the show as well?” you ask while reaching forward for the door handle.

He instantly perks up. “I am. Managed to get a ticket. It’s in the nosebleeds but…”

“I had nosebleeds when Queen was here a few months ago and it was still a fantastic show,” you reassure him. You climb out and hold the door for Jenny. “I’m sure you’ll have a great time. Take care!”

You close the door and wave goodbye.

You and Jenny link arms as you’re walking toward the venue, and extra spring in your steps after jumping that hurdle.

She whispers, “I told you he was British.”

“Jen.” You roll your eyes and elbow her side.

You look over at your friend who’s now covering her mouth with her hand, poorly concealing her laughter. You steal a glance over your shoulder. The last thing you see before you turn back around is Harry staring directly back at you.

**********************************

Jenny walks in front of you, weaving through the groups of people as you both search for a water fountain to wash the earthy taste of the mushrooms from your mouths.

You both join the line behind the fountain closest to the main entrance. When Jenny leans down to take a drink, you spot a familiar green and white striped shirt amongst the crowd of people streaming in. Harry is strolling by, heading toward the arena entrance.

He glances in your direction and does a double take. He instantly grins and raises his eyebrows at you, giving you a thumbs up before mouthing ‘have fun’ and disappearing around the corner.

Your cheeks warm and your stomach flutters.

After you’ve had a drink from the fountain, you and Jenny make your way into the expansive arena and join the crowd of people in general admission.

About half way through the opening act, just as you’re about to ask Jenny if she feels anything happening yet, you see her looking at you fervently and everything around you starts to feel dream-like. The spotlights on the stage begin to look like halos, making it impossible for you to turn away. You start to feel as if the music you’re hearing is coming from your own body. The drum beat bursting through your chest and every note from the guitars coming from the tips of your fingers and the ends of your hair.

The euphoria of being surrounded by love and joy takes over you, making you laugh and dance and sing until the music comes to an end.

**********************************

You’re sitting on the sidewalk outside of the Forum, legs crossed in front of you with your elbows resting on your knees and your head resting in your hands. The concrete  has finally cooled off after the heat of the day. You’re hunched over, currently transfixed by a trail of ants marching along the smooth surface in front of you.

“It’s like you can hear all their little footsteps,” you say, your eyes open wide in awe.

Jenny, who’s sitting across from you in a similar position, giggles in response to your observation before gasping. “I hear them too.”

Both of you snort and break out into unrestrained laughter. It’s never felt so good to have the sound of laughter ringing through your ears.

After a moment, you start to hear the sound of something else. It sounds like your name is being called, but it’s not coming from Jenny. You hear your name again, closer now. It sounds as if it’s echoing from the enormous wall of the Forum right next to you. Your eyebrows pull together in confusion and curiosity as you slowly turn your head to look over your shoulder.

You’re immediately filled with excitement upon seeing the friendly face walking toward you.

“Harry!” you exclaim, waving wildly.

A smile spreads across his face and you swear little sparkles appear next to his dimples.

You can’t take your eyes off of him as he makes his way over to stand next to you and Jenny. You have to crane your head back to see his face from your position on the ground.

“Hey, you alright?” he eyes both of you curiously.

You simply nod in response.

“What are you guys still doing here?”

Jenny sighs as if this is the twentieth time he’s asked, “We’re waiting for Alice.”

“Well,” he trails off while scratching the back of his head, “you probably don’t know this, but the concert ended about two hours ago.”

For whatever reason, this sends you and Jenny into a fit of howling laughter.

Jenny suddenly stops and looks at you wide eyed. “Hey, lets just take the bus home.”

You gasp and grab Jenny’s shoulder, marveling at her great idea. “The bus! Let's take the bus!”

You rise up to your knees with a newfound surge of energy and Jenny follows.

“No no no no no,” Harry surges forward and presses one of his hands on your shoulder and the other on Jenny’s, urging both of you to sit down.

He sinks to the ground along with you, propping himself on one knee. “Do you have Alice’s number with you? I can try giving her a call?”

It takes you a minute to realize that he’s speaking to you. “Yeah I have my address book in my purse--,” you look down to your side and freeze at the sight of the zipper on your bag. Your stomach drops. You definitely do not want to put your hands anywhere near the jagged edges of the zipper that are suddenly taking on the shape of menacing teeth.

You barely hear Harry let out a breathy laugh. You look up to him and he points to your bag. “Need some help?”

“I….. uh…..” You’re not completely sure what to focus on or how to put your thoughts into words.

Before you can ask for help, he slowly reaches out and takes your bag between his fingers, bringing it away from its resting place on your hip. “S’ this alright?” he asks softly.

“Yeah.”

He slowly unzips the bag and you grimace at the unsettling noise. Once it’s been opened all the way, he slightly tilts it toward you and asks, “Can I look inside? Or do you wanna do it?”

You flinch away and shake your head profusely, raising your hand up as a barrier between you and the bag. “No, you do it.”

He looks down, reaches his hand into your purse and starts carefully poking through it.

Your shoulders relax as you turn your focus to his hair. It seems to be much curlier and fluffier than before. It looks… inviting, like a soft blanket that you want to curl up into. It seems to have its own gravitational pull. You lean forward, bury your nose in it and take a deep breath in. The smell of apples and some cologne you don’t recognize and the scent of his sweat swirl together in an exhilarating way.

Harry slowly lifts his head up and eyes you suspiciously over the frames of his sunglasses that have slid down the bridge of his nose. Now that you’re sitting here eye to eye with him, you notice every single detail of his face that you hadn’t been privy to before. Every eyelash, the crease between his eyebrows and the way one of them is slightly raised. The deep set dimple in his cheek due to the smirk pulling up on one side of his mouth. The thin green irises of his eyes.

The more you look into them, the bigger they get, and the more you’re able to see your own reflection in his pupils. You tilt your head and smile as they keep growing in size. Just as they're getting to a comical level, making him look more like a cartoon character, you notice a blush creep onto his cheeks.

He folds his lips into his mouth, blinks rapidly, and shakes his head before returning to his search through your purse.

Harry finally pulls out your yellow leather address book. The white daisies printed on the cover seem to dance and twirl in place when he holds the book up and opens it.

Your purse is returned to its previous position on your hip before he looks at you again. He points his thumb over his shoulder at the payphone a few feet from you. “I’m gonna go call Alice. You guys just stay right here, alright?”

When he starts to get up to his feet, you blurt out, “I have dimes you can use.”

The corners of his mouth turn up and he waves you off, “That’s alright, I’ve got some.”

You watch as he walks over to the payphone. You watch as he digs into the pocket of his jeans and pulls out a handful of coins in his palm. He inserts a dime into the coin slot and cradles the phone between his shoulder and ear. You watch his every move until the stripes on his shirt begin to ripple as if they’re made of water. This plus the flickering light above the phone becomes too much for you to handle.

You lay on your back with your hands folded across your stomach and begin to take in the stars in the sky, which are somehow less overwhelming than a simple striped t-shirt.

You’re not sure how long you stay like this. You feel like you’re so close to the stars in the night sky that you could reach out to touch one, or maybe even cradle one in your hands to feel its warmth. The sound of Jenny sitting next to you humming some tune you don’t quite recognize only adds to the peacefulness you’re feeling.

A bright light suddenly overwhelms your vision and you look over to your left to see a pair of headlights coming toward you. You hoist yourself up from the ground and bring your arm up to shield your eyes from the blinding light.

The car screeches to a halt at the curb. The first thing you see after the driver’s side door opens is a head of curly hair that can only belong to your friend Alice.

“Holy shit you guys. I’m so so so sorry.” She rushes over to where you and Jenny are sitting. Only half of the words she’s saying are even registering in your mind. “I ended up falling asleep and then there was a car wreck on the freeway and traffic was backed up for miles and-” She stops in her tracks once she’s standing in front of you and snorts out a laugh. “Oh my god you guys are so fucking high.”

Her laughter is interrupted by Harry. “Are you Alice?”

“Yeah, who are you?” she replies with a slight edge to her voice.

“Sorry. I-- I’m Harry. I... uh… I gave them the…”

“Oh you’re Harry. Well. Thanks so much for sticking around with them but I can take it from here.” She shakes hands with Harry before extending a hand to Jenny, helping her stand up and walking her to the car.

Meanwhile, you slowly make your way to your feet and walk over to Harry. He grunts when you clumsily wrap your arms around him in a hug.

“Thank you Harry. You’re a very nice person,” you mumble into the fabric of his shirt.

“You’re… You’re welcome.” The vibration of his chest when he chuckles travels all the way down to your toes. You also pick up the thrumming of his heart beating wildly against your ear. His hand lightly rubs your back.

You soon hear Alice’s voice behind you saying your name. The feeling of her lightly tugging on your t-shirt coaxes you away from Harry and into her arms.

Before you know it, you’re settled into the backseat of Alice’s car next to Jenny and Alice is shifting to drive.

As you slowly pull away from the curb, you steal a glance over your shoulder to see Harry standing on the curb. He has one hand on his hip and the other is scratching his jaw as he watches your car move away. His figure is getting smaller and smaller as you leave the venue. Just before you turn the corner, you see him step over to the payphone again.

**September 1st, 1977, Los Angeles, California**

You take a long sip of your coffee as you carefully place the needle on your record player. After a few seconds of rustling and popping, the first kickdrums of The Five Stairsteps’ “O-o-h Child” fill your living room, followed by a chorus of trumpets.

Jenny left for work early in the morning and you have a day off, so you’re relishing in the freedom of having the house to yourself.

You walk through the doorway into the kitchen where your fried egg is sizzling on the stove. With your free hand, you take a plate from the cabinet and set it on the counter before grabbing a spatula, turning the burner off, and carefully lifting the egg out of the pan onto your plate. You pluck the piece of toast from your toaster and turn to set your plate on the table along with your coffee mug. The only thing missing is the newspaper, which is most likely still sitting at the end of your driveway from the morning delivery.

You pad through the hallway to the front door, turn the lock, and swing it open. As soon as the early fall air hits you, however, you come to a halt and let out a shocked gasp.

An equally startled Harry is standing on your front doorstep with one hand behind his back and the other hovering over your doorbell. All of your systems stall for a moment, as if you’re trying to connect whatever dots you can to make this scene make sense in your brain. You can feel heat quickly spreading all over your face each second you both stand there in silence, which you both break at the same time.

“What are you--?”

“Sorry I--”

You press your lips together and wait for him to continue.

“I’m sorry. I, um,” he clears his throat before dropping his hand by his side, “I should have called ahead of time.”

“What-- uh,” you stop to rephrase your question since What are you doing here? sounds a little more blunt than you’re wanting to be. “What brings you here?”

“I just thought I would stop by on my way to work.” He pulls his hand from behind his back, revealing the yellow and white cover of your address book in his hand. “Wanted to return this to you.”

He must have picked up on your confusion as you take the book from his hand and run your thumb over the cover.

“I’m sorry. I accidentally left it on top of the payphone after the concert. Didn’t realize until you had already driven off. But your address and everything is written in the front so… thankfully it wasn’t hard to figure out how to get it back to you.” He gestures to the book before jamming his hands in his pockets.

“Oh,” you draw out as the realization dawns on you. In the process of debriefing your trip with Jenny and Alice, you thought that Harry had given your address book back to you, concluding that it must have been somewhere in your house. You figured it would turn up someplace unexpected, and technically you turned out to be right. You laugh to yourself, “I thought I lost it somewhere in my house or something. I-- Thank you.”

You spare a glance at him for long enough to catch the tight grin on his face, causing his dimples to indent on his cheeks.

As you’re taking in his loose fitting white shirt and ripped jeans, you’re quickly becoming aware of the fact that you’re only dressed in cotton shorts and your old UCLA t-shirt you had slept in. If this whole interaction had been timed better you at least could have run to your bedroom to throw on pants or a sweater before answering the door. You reflexively cross your arms in front of you.

“So you had a good time, I hope?” Harry’s question interrupts your thoughts.

“Oh, yeah. Alice just brought me and Jenny back here and we sat around listening to music and talking. Then we pretty much spent all day yesterday sleeping so.” You shrug.

“Did your bag give you any more trouble?” he squints, pausing around the word ‘bag’ and giving you a sly smirk.

You scoff and shift your weight to lean against the doorframe. “No, it did not,” you mutter defensively toward the ground.

He breathes a laugh through his nose and you urge yourself to steer the subject of conversation slightly away from the specifics of your high state the other night.

“Also, thanks so much for staying there with us. I mean, who knows what we could have gotten into.”

“Oh, it was no problem. I’ve done some pretty stupid stuff while on shrooms, even when I’m supervised so…” he trails off into a chuckle.

You smile at his confession, somehow you can’t imagine this level-headed man doing anything stupid.

He continues. “Just wanted to make sure you were okay.” After a brief pause he adds, “You and Jenny.”

Your eyes snap up after he corrects himself.

He looks down at your doormat, scratching his chin. His cheeks tinge a light shade of pink.

“Well thank you. And thank you for coming to return this,” you say through a deep sigh, raising the book in your hand.

“Of course.” He looks over his shoulder at his car parked on the curb before turning back to you. “Well, I better get going. Was good to see you.” He nods before turning toward the street.

“Yeah, see you around.”

“Take care!” he calls over his shoulder, throwing a peace sign in the air.

Once he’s walked away, you retreat into your hallway and close the door. Your house is now quiet since the record you were playing has reached its end. There’s nothing to mask the sound of your heart beating out of your chest. You stare at the door for a moment, replaying the conversation in your head.

“See you around?” you mock yourself. “Where are you going to see him around?” You rest your forehead against the door and let out a deep sigh that gradually turns into a groan.

Harry’s car rumbles to a start outside. You don’t want to release the tension in your shoulders until you’re certain he’s driven away.

A thump on the other side of the door makes you jolt back. Your eyebrows furrow in confusion when you look through the peephole and see Harry climbing into his car and shutting the door.

You reach down to the door knob and open the door halfway, barely poking your head out. You can’t seem to find the source of the noise until you look down and see the newspaper rolled up in a rubber band sitting on your welcome mat.

You glance back at Harry just in time for him to flash a smile, give you a wave, and take off down the street.

*************************************************

thank you so much for reading!!

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-> PART TWO <-

[honeyblockm]

why do i have to post "analysis". is it not simply enough to beam my thoughts into everyone's brains.

ummmmmm okay so the sapnap/technoblade parallels show up when you look at how they approach loyalty and bonds, I guess. Like the whole "those who treat me with kindness i will repay tenfold / those that treat me with injustice i will repay a thousandfold" thing. Uh. sorry my analyses read very stream of consciousness because i can't hold onto structure for the life of me.

also shoutout to twt dsmptranscripts ily + you're everything to me + if i bring up a quote or even reference an event there's a 60-70% chance i checked w the transcripts

venn diagram hold onnnn venn diagram! i guess i'll go through each of these points and elaborate (and by elaborate i mean A LOT haha this got so much longer than I expected it to be) under the read more

OKAY let's fucking go!!!!

my special little guy - exactly what it says taller than sapnap - by a LOT. sapnap is a short king (canon, dxd whispered it into my ear as i slept) and techno is Big. kills pets/kills orphans - these two things are on the exact same level in terms of severity

strong emphasis on personal loyalty

okay going to be serious this time but i wouldn't say either of them lack principles or something because that's just blatantly untrue it's just that sap and techno both come across as people who will prioritize their bonds over principles. well techno doesn't because of the whole anarchist thing but he does. uh.

like like like techno's actions showed this trait in more recent lore with the prison break stream withhhh ranboo, who he's made evident his care for and also ranboo is his friend. from the start of the arc, techno's breaking into the prison because ranboo is in it. sorry rivalsduo but i don't think c!techno gives a shit about dream he's been sitting on the blueprints and making plans but literally the day after ranboo gets arrested he's like guys we need to get into pandora right now immediately. and during the break in/breakout he's clear that he's not leaving w/out ranboo and then theres everything w/ ranboo dying and finding michael. because the other thing techno holds tight to is his word, in this case dream's favor, but while we've yet to see what he'll do when his relationships come into conflict with his promises, the prison break is a case where they both aligned in trajectory (break someone out of the prison) but to me it showed his friendship with ranboo taking priority over the favor.

but i want to talk about bedrock bros.

okay sapnap time! I think he's a lot moreeeee clearly defined by his loyalty to the people he cares about like siding with dream and george

[hyuckles-chuckles]

the breakfast club (m.list)

march 21st 2020, you walk into the library, looking at the three students who were in here for the same reason you were — detention. you move to the other side of the empty venue, your friend joining you. the vice principal walks in, followed by another student, before he gave you all punishments for the next few hours.

this day was already bullshit. and the upcoming weeks were going to be even worse than you imagined.

𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐡 𝟐𝟏𝐬𝐭

to say na jaemin was your school’s heartthrob was an understatement. he was constantly seen flirting with a new person practically every week. this week he had his eyes on you, and despite you saying no the first time he was prepared to do anything to make you his. and just when he almost had his lips on yours, a teacher had to walk by and catch you both in the dark corridor.

now, it wasn’t jaemin’s first time for a saturday detention, but it was yours…and it kind of scared you as to what would happen in the library. hopefully other students would also receive detention that week. you just didn’t want to be alone in a room with jaemin ever again.

𝐝𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐥𝐨𝐠

march 21st to march 28th ; inappropriate relations on school property

— read here

𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐡 𝟐𝟖𝐭𝐡

the sweetest guy you had ever met was probably lee jeno. despite his quarterback title on your high school’s football team — basically giving him the power to own the entire school, he never used it for his own benefit. you would have never expected the boy with the puppy-like features who happened to play the guitar in the music room during his free time to ever scream at anyone.

but when you heard the rumours of him having a screaming match with the coach of the football team, you saw him in a different, darker light. the coach had given him detention for the incident and suspended him from everything related to football until he apologised. looks like jeno won’t be attending practise anytime soon.

𝐝𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢��𝐧 𝐥𝐨𝐠

march 21st ; disrespectful towards a teacher

— read here

𝐚𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐥 𝟒𝐭𝐡

the smartest person in your class? huang renjun, no doubt about it. always at the top of your class and always at the top of every bully’s pick-on list. whether they were pushing him around or just forcing him to do stuff for them, he was always picked on. you would never have expected for him to be in the library for detention and not studying.

but that all of that changed when a teacher patrolling the halls of the school caught him distributing test answers to a lee haechan who was also caught with a lit cigarette. the test answers would’ve been two weeks of detention, but the smoking was another issue. since the vice principle wouldn’t believe renjun that he wasn’t smoking and therefore lying about the situation, he gave renjun an extra detention.

𝐝𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐥𝐨𝐠

march 21st to april 4th ; distributing test answers

march 21st to april 4th ; suspected smoking

— read here

𝐚𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐥 𝟏𝟏𝐭𝐡

liu yangyang! one of your most favourite people at high school. you had been best friends ever since you lent him a pencil in math class — one that was never returned you might add. he was much like you, one of the good kids, he was a little bit weird but he never got into trouble…that was until he got detention the same week you had.

why? oh, because he punched na jaemin in the face for almost kissing you. you had no idea (other than the fact he was protecting you) why he would risk his squeaky-clean record just to go to detention with you. but at least you had someone to keep you company.

𝐝𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐥𝐨𝐠

march 21st to march 28th ; fighting on school property

— read here

𝐚𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐥 𝟏𝟖𝐭𝐡

oh, where can you start with lee haechan? you never really knew him, and thank god for that. with the reputation he’s built for himself during your high school career, you wouldn’t even want to look his way.

what did he do this time to earn detention? he saw it as something little, just a little smoking on school property and a little bit of almost cheating. he’s done worse in his opinion. from fighting students to disrespecting teachers to doing…non-educational things in dark hallways and bathroom stalls. what was a little smoking going to do?

𝐝𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐥𝐨𝐠

march 14th to march 28th ; bullying

march 21st to march 28th ; suspected cheating

march 21st to april 11th ; smoking on school property

— read here

𝐚𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐥 𝟐𝟒𝐭𝐡

after a few weeks of saturday detention, you’re finally free…but not from the boys you had met and acquainted with whilst in detention.

you kind of wished that they stayed in detention forever.

— read here

pairing ; nct 00 line x fem!reader na jaemin, lee jeno, huang renjun, liu yangyang, lee haechan

genre ; fluff, angst (in some chapters), high school!au, the breakfast club!au · word count ; n/a · rating ; 13 — 16 · warning(s) ; specific in each part

inspiration ; the breakfast club (1984) i see people really liking this concept saying ‘ooh it’s my fav movie’ and whatnot. i just want to infrm y’all that it’s not directly based on the movie, just the concept of saturday detention, the kind of basing on the characters and a mean vice principle. i don’t want anyone to think that this will be exactly like the movie, okay

status ; coming soon!

last updated ; n/a

a/n ; i’m very excited for this so i hope you all anticipate this series as much as i have. i won’t be starting this right now, but everything’s planned and ready for when i do so! + shoutout to @junguws​ for editing those jaemin pics ily

© hyuckles-chuckles, 2020. please don’t copy or repost without permission.

[thesedangers]

ao3 year in review 2021 !

thank you to both @nvr-lft and @chevalric for the tags, ily both and can't wait to see what happens this year!

stories posted: 12 (all hrpf)

!!!!!!!!! i still can't believe that i wrote /twelve stories/ and posted them all online for real people to read with their real eyeballs. i haven't written fic or even participated in fandom in earnest for a few years, and getting back into a community (especially filled with so many lovely people for REAL) was a huge highlight of my 2021. i hadn't even been lurking on twitter for a few days before i had the idea for keep a little fire, and after posting chapter 1 (after much hand-wringing and nervousness) the response was SO LOVELY. i have met so many wonderful people through hrpf and i just. i fucking love u all don't make me cry

word count: 193,758

do not speak to me of the million words in my drafts

(but oh my GOD i haven't written this much in so long, i'm mired in edits for Real Life Fiction Writing and it felt (still feels) so damn good to stretch my writing muscles and actually allow people to read it!! feedback means the world to me and being able to get some this year just has been so good)

most kudos: must-see landmarks !! this fic reminds me of being on vacation and is also the first of many kev/carter stories that started and still continue to rattle around in my head. this was the first Longer "real life" story i attempted to write (that didn't live in an alternate universe), and it was so fun to do a little fluffy getting-together story with a lil bit of smut. writing this one gave me the confidence to write third eye, which was a huge leap for me and a big undertaking in general.

longest story: it's still not done yet but keep a little fire!! we have two more chapters to go before the "prologue" to the volantes universe is complete, and i still love the story with everything inside of me. it's almost like a safe space where i feel comfortable and calm writing, i feel like i understand the characters and the plot pretty intrinsically. i've talked about it a little on twitter before, but i started writing kalf before i started the process of getting diagnosed with adhd, and i definitely dumped a lot of those feelings onto kalf travis. allowing him to work through those thoughts and feelings helped me a /lot/, and i love kalf for that (and a lot of other reasons!).

shortest story: i actually didn't know what this one would be without checking, because i've written a couple really short stories this year. (another thing i'm proud of!! i tend to want to write long ass fiction and learning how to pack emotion and exposition into 2-3k has been SUPER fun and i'm looking forward to doing more of that this year.) BUT the winner for shortest story is running from/towards, which i wrote in an hour and a half right after nolan got traded to vgk. it still hurts tbh

personal favorites: i've already talked about why kalf is special to me personally, but another one that i fucking love is my other wip (smudge boy/obscurent fic/unnicknamed au/etc). i started out last year despising worldbuilding and the work that goes into it, and i ended the year more excited about worldbuilding than i've ever been. writing kalf, obscurent fic, and both fics in the lifeline universe (another one that i am so proud of, and for the very first challenge i ever participated in!) helped me learn to love the process of worldbuilding and creating new rules or magic systems. this gave me the push to begin completely revamping the world that my original novel's set in, something that i didn't even know needed to happen until i started writing rpf and creating AUs. i just have a lot of feelings about this

also shoutout to halloween fic because i'm still proud of making it sufficiently weird/creepy/unsettling/unresolved !

2022 goals/expectations/etc: finish kalf! finish obscurent fic! maybe even start/post the kalf sequel (?) or at least figure out what i'm doing with it. FINISH AND POST PIRATE FIC! continue to write smaller/shorter stories, learning how to make things satisfying and interesting while using Less Words. i would love to finish a collaborative fic as I am not the best at sharing creative control; tessel and i have some fun stuff cooking and i would love to push myself to finish something like that! writing is good but writing with friends is DOUBLE GOOD

one of my biggest goals is to learn how to balance writing rpf with writing my original stuff; this year was definitely rpf heavy and i need to... not necessarily hold back from rpf, but carve out time for other writing as well. sometimes i feel guilty about spending so much time on rpf when i have *other* things to do also, so breaking out of that mindset is definitely a 2022 goal.

all in all i just want to keep writing! i also want to keep reading what everyone else writes, because we have a damn fucking good group of people in fandom and i love seeing what your absolutely gigantic brains create <3

i don't follow many people on here yet so if you're seeing this and haven't done it yet, do it and tag me so i can see!!

[mistaeq]

Akira Otoishi: General Fluff HCs and Hilarious Shenanigans

TW // none

I want to dedicate this work to @golden-narcissus , my cutest Akira simp and the person who inspires me about loving new characters everyday !! don't ever change Tea ily <3 // also... shoutout to all the akira simps out there ^_^

Akira Otoishi General Fluff Headcanons and Hilarious Shenanigans

WORD COUNT: 1.3k

If you're a stand user, you probably met because Red Hot Chili Pepper accidentally scared you by randomly appearing in front of you from a near payphone.

Akira apologized, and when he realized you could see Chili Pepper, he immediately got interested in you and in your abilities.

If you're not a stand user, you probably met in a music shop, and you both reached for the last cd left of your favourite artist.

Akira was about to get upset, before noticing those beautiful eyes of yours begging him to let you take it. He couldn't say no, but he earned a pleasant conversation about your music tastes, in exchange.

He's the kind of musician who likes bragging about his skills. He'll straight up show you the most difficult thing he can do, just to play it cool afterwards and say it's just easy stuff, for him.

He panics when you play his game and ask him to show you something more difficult, then. So adorable.

Akira uses Red Hot Chili Pepper to charge your phone in the fastest way ever. He just likes to see you smile when your phone battery seems to be dead and he saves the situation.

If you're lucky enough to get to see him out of his habitat, in a domestic environment, get ready to messy bun Akira! He loves his long, purple hair, but also loves not to find his own hair everywhere, above all in his food.

Always make sure you fill him of little nothings, such as little sleepy kisses, a morning hug, a daily smile and flying "I love you"'s.

He's probably a romantic guy, he does his best. If you enter his room while he's practising, he'll improvise a little song - it might be either sweet or stupid - for you, right there and then. He has a different idea everytime. Great artist.

If you happen to get interested in his guitar, Akira will be more than happy to teach you how to use that. A good excuse to keep you close.

You'll sit on his lap, while his hands on yours will guide you on how to play his guitar. You're the only one allowed to touch it besides him.

Akira will kiss your cheek and neck several times, while teaching you how to play the guitar. You always end up forgetting about the instrument and smooching. After five lessons, you hadn't learnt anything.

If you happen to fight, expect him to follow you around the house singing you a personal adaptation of the song "Ice Cold Rita" from Flushed Away. He's a playful man. And he loves cartoons.

"🎵Ice cold y/n ~ never did I meet a ~ girl/boy who's half's so cruel ~ I offered them a jewel ~ but they left me stuck ~ ignored me all the time ~ what a shoddy thing to do to Akira... to me! ~ Akira ~ Otoishi ~ from Morioh ~🎵"

Until you don't kiss him or talk to him, he'll keep singing it. You two can't stay angry at each other for too much time, he needs affection, and that's why he'll follow you around singing that song.

He likes watching something with you, before sleeping. You let Akira choose what to watch, because he's hilarious. "So... y/n... can we watch The Aristocats?" He knows Romeo's song by heart.

Akira will fall asleep first, if you watch something together. Take care of him and bring him in your bed to make sure he can sleep properly. Then, cuddle up in his arms. He loves waking up to his arms holding you.

Being his stand the representation of his soul, sometimes his lightning pigeon will want to cuddle with you. Unfortunately, Akira can't let it, or it would unwillingly shock you.

Like it or not, you're good friends with the Duwang Gang, and he'll deal with it. If you happen to go out together, he'll want to at least hold hands with you to not to feel alone.

Just keep him at a safety distance from Josuke and his best pal. Akira's willing to sincerely change, but he's done what he's done, and they aren't honestly willing to forget what happened to Keicho. Not now, at least. They'll accept him just for you, but don't get them close to each other. How to blame them.

Akira is not jealous, or at least not in a scary/obsessive way. But he has a strong jealousy towards other musicians. He'll make sure you still think he's the best.

He enjoys it a lot when you leave sweet kisses on his eye scar.

BONUS SCENE

"No."

"Please?" he puppy eyed you from under the blanket, munching on the popcorn you had prepared. "Just another time, come on..."

"Aki... it's the fourth time we watch One Hundred and One Dalmatians, this week." you said, getting on the couch with him. "Something different?" he pouted, and looked away. It was like dealing with a baby.

You smiled. He was a special man. Akira looked so tough in other people's eyes, probably because of his past. Little did other people know that in reality he was a pouty mess who liked to tease you with dumb and funny songs and watch an embarrassing amount of cartoons. You would have managed to make your friends understand how much was he trying to improve himself.

Your hands caressed his wavy and curly purple hair. He had washed it today, and you could feel it and smell it, a pleasant lavender scented shampoo. "I promise, we'll watch One Hundred and One Dalmatians next time, don't pout at me..." you caressed his cheek. "What about we don't watch anything instead? We're distracted by a cartoon every night, what if we cuddle and smooch a bit this time?"

"Smooch?" Akira repeated, looking at you as you wrapped your loving arms around his torso and nuzzled against his chest. His hands held you tight, he lowered his head to kiss you on your forehead. "Maybe the cartoons can really wait, huh..." the boy lay completely on the couch, as you climbed on him, and kissed him sweetly.

"I love you. I love you..." you giggled, kissing his lip, his cheek and his jaw. Akira smiled, but stared at the ceiling.

"This is good..." he caressed your back. "You might be the only one."

"Don't say it, Akira... Don't." you begged, holding him tighter.

"It's just the truth... I've done a lot of stupid shit... I only have you, in Morioh Cho." you huffed, and sat on his lap, him still laying down. You caressed his cheeks.

"There's nothing wrong with you, Aki. You're just improving yourself." your hand squished his soft skin. "You're pretty, you're smart, you're cute..." you raised an eyebrow. "You have a nice booty..." he giggled. Music for your ears.

"A nice booty won't make your friends accept me, y/n..." you leaned down and kissed him before he could say something more.

"Akira Otoishi." you played with a lock of his hair you loved so much. "You don't have to change for my friends. You have to change for yourself. And you're doing great, baby. You feel me?" he just nodded. "Good." You rested your forehead on his, gazing at the smile that was now appearing on his mouth. "Very good."

You kissed his cheeks once more, inhaling his delicate, perfect scent. You could tell he was stressed and tired, poor thing. As you held his hand to kiss it, a thought came to your mind, an idea to make him smile. Maybe he could be happier, like that. "So... Akira, love... wanna watch One Hundred and One Dalmatians?"

[joe-mazzello-archive]

Wait For It

Rating: PG-13

Word Count: 7.1k (lol this was supposed to be a quick one)

Warnings: a bunch of people being super insecure, angst again (sorry gang), some sexy thoughts but no actual smut, cheating

A/N: sooooo i’ve been up in my hamilton feels as of late so this fic is the result of that. shoutout to my favorite bridge troll @brianmays-hair​ for the original prompt that inspired this plus letting me bounce ideas off of her when my brain can only form partial thoughts, ily babe. also, shoutout to my first gwil-centric fic! of course joe makes an appearance because i’m the worst. eventually i’ll write a fic that joe is not in lol. also, y’all may not like yourself in this one. sorry :(

(also i know everyone uses this gif, so sue me)

I look into your eyes and the sky’s the limit.

Joe had just…always been there. He was the friend who never strayed no matter how far apart you were. When your lives seemed determined to pull you in different directions, you didn’t let it. The two of you could go an entire year on separate sides of the country, but once reunited it was like you were never apart. You understood each other in a way that was hard to define. Your connection ran deep, deeper than any other connection you’d ever had with another person.

Falling in love with Joe Mazzello was hard.

It was hard because you didn’t want to. You didn’t want to complicate things or ruin the connection you had. Every urge to kiss him or hold his hand or pull him into your bed just frustrated you. How could your heart betray you like that? It set you up for failure. Every romantic prospect was subconsciously compared to Joe. They weren’t as funny as him, weren’t as charming as him, didn’t understand you as well as he did. It wasn’t fair to you or to Joe or to all of the people who tried to win you over. 

Every fantasy you had of Joe waking up one day and realizing you were the one for him was met with anger and frustration at yourself. His golden eyes, those eyes that held so much happiness and adoration inside of them, haunted you, slipping into your dreams at night, your thoughts during the day. You mentally punished yourself for feeling jealous of the girls that came and went from his life. He was your friend, but he wasn’t yours. And he never would be. You knew that. But your heart had other ideas.

And then came Gwilym.

You’d heard all about him from Joe, his excited texts about his newfound friendships with his castmates regaling story after story about the tall man. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t intrigued by Joe’s new friends, it had been awhile since you’d witnessed Joe have such deep connections with people that he had only known for a few months.

You were Joe’s “date” to a Bohemian Rhapsody screening in LA; his way of trying to make up for the months he spent away from you. You had been dragged to a hotel suite before the event, an apparent pre-party that the cast and production team would all be in attendance for. Ben was polite and reserved in his introduction, revealing he had looked forward to finally meeting his competition for the title of Joe’s Best Friend. You were unfazed, however; you knew that title would always belong to you.

Rami wrapped you up a big hug, insisting there would be less time between your next reunion. He promised a catch-up lunch date in the future, once things slowed down for him. You knew things would never slow down for such a powerhouse talent like Rami, but you appreciated the gesture. Lucy was a delight, greeting you like an old friend and grilling you for embarrassing stories about Joe she could hold over his head. You could see yourself finding a lifelong friend in the bubbly blonde.

And then Joe’s hand was on your shoulder, leading you to a familiar gentleman who towered above you, who’s piercing blue eyes gazed at you with a warmth that you hadn’t felt in ages.

Falling in love with Gwilym Lee was easy.

It was almost scary how easy it was. Everything about him brought you joy. His laugh, the way he’d stroke his own beard in thought, his ability to be a serious gentleman one second and a huge goofball the next. He let you ramble about whatever and listened intently with a huge smile on his face. He made you feel safe and completely seen; with one look, he communicated that yes, he saw you and he liked what he saw. Maybe even loved it.

There were times where you’d be in his arms and held you like you were going to disappear. Those were the nights you spent showering in him in affection. You wanted him to feel safe, feel seen, just like he always made you feel. You would touch him, caress him, take care of him, make him feel good, all while making sure he knew without a doubt that you weren’t going anywhere.

Gwil made you the happiest you’d been in a long time. You were able to love someone freely; no more punishing yourself. No more overthinking or doubting or hating. Because you realized one day that yes, you loved Joe Mazzello and you always would. But you were in love with Gwilym Lee.

It had been six months since your first meeting when the two of you sat on your couch in your apartment, him holding your hand in both of his, timidly stroking the soft skin with his thumb. His nervous demeanor had you worried for what felt like the first time since he came into your life. Had he seen through your confident facade? Had he realized that you were too much for him? Too loud, too intense? Loved him too hard, too fast?

“I know it’s only been half a year,” he admitted timidly. “But, I just...I feel like this is...this is real.” Your worried frown faded to a soft smile as he finally looked up from the floor, meeting your gaze. You could see everything he was feeling in his eyes. Anxiety, worry, yes. But also so much love. And all of a sudden, you knew exactly what he wanted to ask you. 

“And I want to nurture that,” he continued. “I want this to grow. And I understand if you think it’s too soon or even a ridiculous request--”

“Gwil, just ask me already.”

He took a big breath and squeezed your hand before speaking again.

“What do you think about coming to London? As in, moving to London. With me.”

You didn’t hesitate for a second. You didn’t have to. You knew the answer as soon as you figured out what the question was.

“Yes.”

His furrowed brow and distressed gaze melted away in relief and were replaced with watery eyes and that bright smile you knew and loved. He kissed you like he had just won the lottery, gripping you tight against him and pouring every emotion into the kiss. You kissed him back just as fiercely, the two of you communicating entirely by tasting each other.

When you pulled back for a moment to breathe, you didn’t go far, keeping your forehead pressed against his. His ocean blue eyes, those eyes that held so much promise and love inside of them, comforted you, ensuring you that you had found him, you’d found your person.

I’m down for the count and I’m drownin’ in ‘em.

◈◈◈

Love doesn't discriminate between the sinners and the saints, it takes and it takes and it takes.

It wasn’t love at first sight for Gwil. No, he was in love with you long before he met you. The stories Joe had told him about his best friend back home painted a picture of this extraordinary person with a big heart and a love to laugh. Gwil didn’t understand how he could be so attached to a person he hadn’t even laid eyes on yet.

He was embarrassed at how often he combed through your Instagram, scrolling through every picture of your bright smile, wanting nothing more than to be the one to cause it. He was so tempted to hit the follow button but worried it would be weird. Did you even know who he was? Had Joe told you about him? Or did you live in blissful ignorance of the man who pined after you from afar?

Gwil had come to terms with the fact that he’d probably never meet you. You lived back in LA, working as an interior designer. Your paths would never cross and Gwil accepted that. He assumed his oddly strong feelings towards you would fade over time. Once the shoot was done and Joe wasn’t around as much, the stories would stop. Gwil would move on.

And then suddenly you were standing right next to Joe, smack in front of Gwil, beaming up at him with that familiar smile, your hand outstretched.

“You must be Gwilym!”

You did know who he was. He wasn’t sure if that was worse.

You didn’t know how unfair he’d been to you. He had crafted this vision of you in his head comprised of anecdotes from Joe and the little bit of information he could discern from your social media. You were this perfect person in his mind that no one could ever live up to.

And then you surpassed that person in every way.

You were so beautiful. Gwil didn’t understand how you could be even more otherworldly in person. Your smile lit up his entire world, your eyes were an abyss he loved to get lost in. You floated through the world with an elegance Gwil thought only possible in dreams. And when he finally had you under him, your smooth skin beneath his fingertips, he was convinced you were an angel, an ethereal being sent from beyond. Gwilym Lee was in love with your body.

You were so smart. The ideas you had, the questions you asked, the challenges you threw at him always had Gwil so impressed with your intellect. You had the ability to think of things long before Gwil thought of them. You would spout out words of wisdom as though you had centuries of experience and knowledge. You could derive phrases that pulled at his heartstrings or sent the blood in his head down south. Gwil would watch you as you burrowed into the corner chair you’d claimed as your own during your first visit to his flat in London, clad in his own sweater, either reading from your stack of books or scribbling away in your own. Gwilym Lee was in love with your mind.

You were so loving. You cared deeply about your friends and family, going out of your way to make sure everyone in your life was taken care of. Your heart was so vast and had room for so many people that at first Gwil was worried he was misunderstanding the situation. Was the affection he received from you the same you gave to everyone else? Was he the only one to hold you like this or was he not alone? You had so much love to give, Gwil almost thought himself selfish for wanting you to himself. But you and your infinite wisdom and your big heart saw right through Gwil’s insecurities. You whispered words of tenderness into his ear, things he didn’t even know he needed to hear, and his doubts were sated once again. Gwil didn’t understand how he got so lucky, to be in your orbit, and to have your love shone upon him like the brightest star in the sky. You made Gwil love more freely, helped him tear down walls he had put up in his younger years when he had been used and abused and treated like nothing. How one person could come into his life and make it better in every single possible way, he would never comprehend. Gwilym Lee was in love with your heart.

Gwil realized these things only a few months after meeting you face to face. He was almost...ashamed at how hard and fast he fell for you. To him, his intense infatuation seemed almost childish, immature. It was too soon. There were too many things standing in the way, too much distance between you two. He was foolish, setting himself up for heartache. You had made it seem so easy, loving freely and fiercely, and Gwil had followed suit. But he knew from experience that it wasn’t realistic long-term. That intense love would burn out, becoming a black hole that would suck away the light from his entire world. You were too beautiful, too smart, too loving. It was too good to be true that Gwil would get to keep you. There were so many people out in the world that you deserved more, that deserved you more, and one day you would wake up and realize that. It wouldn’t be your fault, he would never hold it against you.

And he knew how it would happen. He knew who it would happen with. Gwil was doomed from the start, really. He would never be able to compete with what you had with Joe. The bonds you two shared ran deep, built upon years and years of being each other’s person to run back to, shoulder to cry on, friend to share a laugh with.

Gwil hated that he felt like he had to compete with Joe. He loved Joe and he loved you and he loved that the two of you loved each other. But he felt like he was running out of time. Especially being so far away from you most of the time. When a majority of your interactions took place over Facetime and text, and Gwil had to watch as you went out to lunch with Joe or went hiking with Joe or explored new bookstores with Joe, Gwil’s gut instinct was that his time with you was almost up.

So in a desperate attempt to save what he assumed was a doomed relationship, Gwil held your hands and asked you to move to London with him.

And you said yes. Without even blinking. And with a huge smile on your face.

The relief Gwil felt was unbelievable. He wasn’t crazy. He wasn’t in too deep. He was on equal ground. With that one word and your unwavering gaze, every insecurity Gwil had ever felt about you and your relationship vanished into thin air. You -- beautiful, smart, and loving you -- wanted to uproot your life and move to a different country to be with him.

How did he get so lucky?

It’s the thought that rang through his head every single day after that conversation. He thought it while he helped you with job and visa logistics. He thought it while he helped you set up listings for selling your apartment furniture. He thought it while you fell asleep with your head on his shoulder on the flight back to London. And he thought it while you whined out his name in bed the first night in your now shared flat.

That thought morphed and molded itself in Gwil’s head. He was lucky. He had somehow won the lottery on significant others and had gotten you. He couldn’t wrap his mind around it some days. Thoughts about what he had done to deserve you slowly turned into thoughts about whether or not he even deserved you in the first place. Had he accidentally tricked you? Plucked you out of a world you should have been in and forced you into one he selfishly wanted?

Suddenly it had been another six months. If you were miserable you seemed to hide it well, which Gwil could appreciate. He found himself wanting to ask you if you were happy, but he was afraid of the answer. He knew you would never lie to him. You never had before.

On days where he was home and you were working, he would sit in his office and mull it all over. He felt guilty that he constantly played mental gymnastics with himself, especially when you were always there for him to listen and love. Every other time he had an issue and he had gone to you about it, you listened with an open heart and a soft smile on your face. You didn’t even have to say much to fix the problem, you were magic in that way.

One late afternoon he found himself in his office once again, fidgeting with a small velvet box, passing it back and forth between his trembling hands. He had impulse-bought the ring months ago, when a walk downtown to buy your birthday present had inadvertently led him to a jeweler. He had told himself that the second he was one hundred percent certain everything between you two wasn’t an elaborate joke or fantasy, he’d pull out the box and get down on one knee. But Gwil’s constant plaguing thoughts made him feel like that day would never come. Who was he to ask you to be with him forever?

So when you appeared in the doorway with a bag from his favorite takeaway place, intent on surprising him with being home from work early, Gwil could feel nothing but sheer panic. And that panic increased tenfold when your eyes fell to the velvet box in his lap.

He watched, paralyzed with fear as your own eyes grew large, your jaw dropping open slightly when your words trailed off. It was not the reaction he would have ever wanted. Clearly you were scared, thrown off by even the concept of marrying him.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, and Gwil could feel his heart shatter into thousands of pieces.

But then you threw your hand over your eyes, and Gwil thought he was going insane because were you smiling?

“I promise I didn’t see anything!”

Absolutely bewildered, Gwil stood to his full height and crossed the room, gently pulling your hand away from your face.

“Let’s say you did see something,” he said, his voice small. “Is that something...something that would make you happy?” Gwil wasn’t sure if his heart could take another drop on the emotional roller coaster, but it was better he found out now than let that question slowly pick him apart.

And then you brought his hand to your lips, placing the softest of kisses to his knuckles. Your eyes began to water as you looked at him like no one had before.

“It would make me the happiest person on the entire planet.”

Your magic cured him once again. One sentence and the relief flooded Gwil’s veins. He then slowly got to his knee, never letting go of your hand the entire time. With a shaky voice, he spoke your name.

“Will you marry me?”

Time seemed to stop for Gwil, but you didn’t hesitate for a second. You didn’t have to. You knew the answer as soon as you had laid eyes on that little box.

“Yes.”

The two of you shared a watery laugh as he slid the ring on your finger. You held each other as you cried and kissed and kissed and cried. Gwil had never been happier in his entire life. You wanted him. Forever.

And when the tears stopped and the two of you finally sat down to eat the nearly forgotten takeaway, you pulled out your phone and announced that you had to call Joe. Because he had to be the first to know.

An hour before, that would have given Gwil a twinge of worry. Worry that even though you had a ring on your finger, Joe was still more important than him.

But that worry didn’t come. And that worry never came again. You had chosen him, and for the first time, Gwil knew, without a doubt, that that would never change.

If there's a reason I'm by her side when so many have tried, then I'm willing to wait for it.

◈◈◈

I don't know how to say no to this, but this situation is helpless.

You hadn’t thought twice when Joe invited you out to LA for a weekend to hang out. You hadn’t seen him in person since before moving to London, and you were both itching for a reunion that wasn’t held via Facetime or Zoom.

Gwil had almost insisted on it. He’d be away on a shoot for a few weeks and he hated the idea of you being by yourself the entire time. He could also tell you were a bit overwhelmed with wedding planning. You needed a break. And you both knew that even though Joe would be in the wedding as a groomsman, you probably wouldn’t get to spend too much time with him at the event itself considering you’d have to try and make time for the over two hundred guests that would be in attendance.

As you settled into your plane seat, a thought occurred to you that had you concerned about your trip for the first time. It was true that as your relationship with Gwil had blossomed, your friendship with Joe had faded a bit. You weren’t sure if it was subconscious or completely by accident. Throwing yourself head first into your budding romance with Gwil had offered a break from the constant pain of having fallen for Joe. So had you unintentionally pulled away from Joe, channeling all of your energy into what was a new and exciting distraction? Possibly.

But truly, it was the distance. You’d been in London for almost a full year, and between your schedule and his, you hadn’t seen each other since before the move. Time between text conversations and Facetime calls grew and grew. 

You’d been separated for long periods of time before and yet things had never changed. And even now, you still considered him your best friend. But there was that little bit of fear that things would be different this time. You wouldn’t be able to just pick right up where you left off.

But your fears were put to rest as soon as he wrapped his arms around you again. It was like the past year hadn’t even happened. Your Joe was in front of you, in the flesh, and everything felt right again. You joked and laughed and sang the entire drive from the airport to his house. You spent the evening catching each other up on everything the other had missed. You told him about work and new friends and places you’d seen and English slang you’d picked up. He filled you in on his latest projects, told you stories about mutual friends you hadn’t seen in ages, and as always, had you laughing until your sides hurt.

It wasn’t until you were settled in his guest room bed later that night that you realized he hadn’t once asked about Gwil or the wedding.

You spent the next day being paraded around LA by Joe, the two of you hitting all of the cheesy tourist spots that you hadn’t been to in years before eventually heading to the beach. As the pair of you stretched out on towels in the sand while soaking up the sun, you remembered the thought you had the night before.

So you took it upon yourself to introduce the topic.

“Oh, Gwil sends his love, by the way,” you casually said, as if you had just thought of it. Joe offered a small smile and nodded, his only acknowledgement of your statement before jumping to his feet.

“Let’s go in the water!”

You were temporarily distracted by an intense water war with Joe once the two of you made it chest-deep into the ocean. Joe then launched into an elaborate tale about going to the beaches on the east coast growing up, making you laugh with an imitation of his brother, whom you hadn’t seen in ages but had recently RSVPed yes to your nuptials.

“I’m excited to see him again at the wedding,” you revealed, testing your developing theory about Joe once again. “I can’t even remember the last time I saw him.”

“Yeah,” was all Joe said before diving under the water and grabbing at your ankle, earning a squeal from you.

Another attempt foiled. You were pretty sure he was avoiding the topic outright.

You didn’t understand why. Gwil was one of his closest friends. You knew the two chatted frequently, probably more frequently than you and him. For a brief moment you entertained the idea that Joe was actually more upset by you living so far away than he had let on previously. You remembered being surprised at Joe’s reaction to you moving to London. You had invited him out for lunch one day to break the news, and while he claimed he was going to miss you something fierce, he was happy for you. At least that was what you had left that lunch feeling.

Maybe Joe was an even better actor than you realized.

You had to get some answers out of him. It started to get bizarre, the lengths he would go to in order to avoid talking about Gwil or the wedding. And although you had had an incredibly fun and relaxing weekend with your old friend, one that you had desperately needed, by Sunday night a weird tension had set in. Joe definitely knew you were on to him; you could tell by how little effort he started putting into trying to change the subject.

So you decided you had had enough. If he wasn’t going to be outright with you, you needed to confront him. You had disappeared into the guest room after Joe had cooked the two of you dinner with the excuse that you wanted to make sure your bag was packed for your early flight home the next morning. Sure, there was some truth to that, but you also needed the time to compose your thoughts before challenging Joe.

You walked warily back into the living room where Joe had pulled up some Netflix movie and had it paused while he tapped away at his phone, clearly waiting for you.

“Can I ask you something?” you hesitantly questioned as you took a seat next to Joe.

“Anything,” he replied as his attention left his phone and turned to you, a confident smile on his face.

“Why haven’t you asked about Gwil or the wedding?”

You could practically see the blood drain from Joe’s face. His smile was exchanged for a look of what seemed almost like...fear. After a few seconds of silence indicating that he wasn’t going to answer you right away, you continued.

“Every time I mention Gwil or the wedding, you find some excuse to change the subject or use something to distract me. Don’t think I haven’t noticed. I know you too well,” you explained with a soft smile, attempting to lighten the mood, an endeavour you quickly realized was fruitless. Joe was staring intently at his lap, and you could hear the gears turning in his head. Joe always had a tendency to think really loudly.

“Joe?”

“I thought I was over it,” he suddenly spit out. You furrowed your brows. When he didn’t continue, you spoke up again.

“Over what? Me moving away?”

“I thought I was over you,” he admitted, finally looking up at you with those golden eyes you’ve always known. Those eyes that had once haunted you, slipping into your dreams at night, your thoughts during the day. Those eyes that you hadn’t worried about in over a year.

You were stunned to silence.

“I...lost my chance with you,” he continued. “It sounds so fucking cliche but I didn’t realize what I had until it was gone. It took you moving to London for me to realize that I’ve been in love with you for a long, long time.”

It was like every emotion you could possibly feel overtook your body in one fell swoop. How were you supposed to process something like that? You were shocked, confused, and a little bit sad, but most of all, you were fucking livid.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” you practically shouted as you jumped to your feet, earning a startled wince from Joe. “I pined after you for years. I had it so bad for you for so long. And now? When I’ve finally gotten over you....and I’m happy with someone else...you have the fucking nerve to drop that on me?” You were frantic, thoughts running wild, your heart pounding. You marched into the kitchen, needing some space to collect yourself. You could feel tears pricking your eyes as you sat at Joe’s kitchen island.

“You pined after me?” Joe’s quiet voice sounded from the doorway. You frustratedly swiped at the drops running down your cheeks before turning to look at Joe. 

“I always loved you, you asshole,” you revealed before burying your face in your hands. How could he do this to you? You were months away from getting married, to one of his closest friends no less, and he chose now to confess that he was in love with you.

At least you had gotten the answer to your original question.

“I’m such an idiot,” you heard Joe whisper. “I could have had you all this time.”

After a few moments, you felt two tentative arms wrap around you from behind. Joe laid his head against your back.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured against the fabric of your t-shirt. “Please don’t cry.”

You were so angry with him. So angry at the situation. But he was still Joe. And part of you still loved him, even though that love had changed over the past year or so. So you turned into his embrace, wrapping your arms around him. You lost track of how long the two of you stayed there, holding each other while time ticked away.

Eventually Joe pulled back for a moment before cradling your face in his hands. His thumbs wiped away the last of your tears as the two of you gazed at each other.

And then Joe was kissing you.

It was brief, almost as if he had done it accidentally. A flash of fear shone in his eyes and you knew you probably mirrored him. But then he was kissing you again.

And you were kissing him back.

For years you had wondered what it would be like to kiss Joe Mazzello. And now, there you were, his lips as soft as you thought they’d be. He tasted like wine and pasta sauce and something else that was uniquely Joe. His hands on your face kept you close to him as his mouth moved against yours. 

He pulled back to take a breath, his hands sliding down to your hips, his forehead pressed against yours. You needed to push him away. You needed to stop this.

“You can say no to this. Just tell me to stop.”

You didn’t.

That night you lived out a fantasy that you had used to have for years but hadn’t thought about in ages. That night you explored Joe’s body as he explored yours, touching, tasting, feeling. No words were exchanged, the only sounds that rang out through Joe’s bedroom were soft whimpers and grunts of pleasure.

When you left the bed to use the restroom, the tears came back. You had been stupid, acting on selfish impulses. Acting on a lingering curiosity. Taking advantage of a situation you had been presented with.

Joe let you cry in his bathroom, and you mentally thanked him for knowing not to bother you.

When you finally emerged, Joe appeared to be asleep. You didn’t stop to find out for sure. Instead you moved across the hall into the guest room. You held a pillow to your chest and tearfully wished you had never come to LA.

You didn’t get much sleep. You were up at least an hour before you had to be, getting dressed and cooking the two of you a quick breakfast. When Joe finally appeared in the kitchen, he silently picked at his plate of eggs and bacon. No words were spoken. Nothing needed to be said. That was the thing about knowing someone so well.

The drive to the airport was soundtracked by a playlist of rock medleys that normally both you and Joe would sing along to. But no songs were sung on that trip.

After helping you pull your suitcase out of the back of your car, Joe stood there awkwardly wringing his hands together. You didn’t blame him for not knowing what was appropriate. You didn’t know where the boundaries laid anymore either.

So you threw him a bone, pulling him into a tight embrace, one that he immediately reciprocated. For some reason, even though you’d be seeing him again in a few months, it felt like a forever goodbye. Like it was the last time you would ever hold each other.

“I will always love you,” you whispered as you buried your face in his shoulder. “But I’m in love with Gwil.” It was true. And you hated that you needed to say it out loud.

You felt him nod into your hair. He understood.

You left him with a peck on the cheek, and got on your plane. And you spent the ten hour flight mentally preparing to banish the entire weekend from your memory. Gwil could never find out.

And he never did.

Nobody needs to know.

◈◈◈

I remember that night, I just might regret that night for the rest of my days.

Joe stood between Ben and Gwil’s brother, clad in a gray suit with a colorful pocket square. He watched as you floated down the aisle looking the most beautiful he’d ever seen you, a stunning vision accoutred in white.

But the most gorgeous thing about you wasn’t your dress or your hair or your makeup, as perfect as it all was. No, the thing that stood out to Joe was the look of pure elation that you wore as you made your way between the rows of chairs. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen you so sublimely happy.

And it pained him. Because it was a subtle reminder that he’d never be the one to make you that happy.

Joe stole a glance at Gwil, and he had the exact same gaze upon his face. Joe felt a twinge of guilt in his gut. He should be happy. He should be satisfied. Two of the most important people in his life had found love with each other. That was something to celebrate. So Joe hated that he felt nothing but sadness. It was selfish and unfair to the both of you.

But the thing Joe hated the most was that this whole thing was all his fault.

He remembered the day he introduced you to Gwil like it was yesterday. What was supposed to be a night out with you after being separated for so long turned into Joe playing third wheel as he watched you and Gwil bond. The connection was instantaneous.

It didn’t bother Joe at all at first. In fact, he was ecstatic. He patted himself on the back whenever he could, taking complete credit for your budding romance. You seemed lighter, as if Gwil had taken the weight of the world off your shoulders. And Joe trusted the both of you not to break each others’ hearts; he knew you were amazing people, and he believed you deserved each other.

It was only a month before Joe started to notice the drift. You texted him less, you didn’t have as much free time to hang out. Things you used to do with him you now did with Gwil. Joe tried not to let it get to him. He had never been bothered by relationships you had been in previously. But there was something about this time around that irked him.

At first he assumed it was because it was Gwil. Two of his friends had essentially ganged up on him, opting to spend more time with each other than with him. But that wasn’t it.

Then he thought it was because you went to London a lot. It seemed like every time Joe tried to make plans with you he was met with a “I’ll actually be in London that week.” But that wasn’t it.

For a fleeting moment he thought it was a worry that the two of you were moving too quickly. A fear that the pair of you would have an ugly break up and Joe would be caught in the middle of it. But that wasn’t it.

It took almost six months of you and Gwil together for him to realize that he was head over heels in love with you.

How could he have been so stupid? You had been right there in front of him for years and years and it took you getting into a serious relationship for him to wake up. He had wasted so much time.

Gwil was one of his best friends in the entire world. But you had been his best friend longer. He needed to tell you. He couldn’t lie to you.

As soon as Joe had made the decision, you were asking him to grab lunch with you. He spent the hours leading up to it pacing in his apartment, working through a speech in his head.

His plan was foiled when you sat across from him in the ramen shop and announced you were moving to London. You were elated as you told him the story of Gwil nervously asking you. Joe put his acting skills to the test as he sat in that booth for an hour and pretended to be happy for you. Pretended that he was okay when truly he was dying inside.

The last shred of hope Joe could hold on to was that he’d be able to get over you easier. The distance would ease his pain. Maybe he’d meet someone, someone who would somehow be even more beautiful and smarter and more loving than you. He didn’t think that person existed, but he had to hold out hope.

He threw himself into work, trying to distract himself with jobs, filling the time between those jobs by writing, something you always helped him with. You had been his muse, a revelation that frustrated Joe as he struggled with the worst case of writer’s block he’d ever had.

He understood that your lives had been pulled in different directions, but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt when the periods between conversations and phone calls got longer and longer as time went on. He missed you. Setting all of his romantic feelings aside, he simply missed his best friend.

He was curled up in front of the TV watching some dumb video Ben had sent him when your name flashed across his phone screen. He couldn’t have been more relieved to see your face. You greeted him with a huge grin and an excited air about you.

And then you revealed the true intention of your call with a flash of a diamond ring on your finger.

Gwil’s face appeared a few moments later, asking Joe to be one of his groomsmen. Of course Joe agreed, he’d do anything for Gwil. Even be a groomsman in his wedding to the woman he loved.

He told himself that he’d be over you by the time the wedding came. He had to be. He just had to.

He didn’t know what came over him when he asked you to come visit him for a weekend. He just missed you. He missed you like crazy and he needed you. He needed his best friend, his person.

The days leading up to your arrival were spent stress-cleaning his entire apartment. He was terrified things would be weird. Why couldn’t everything just be like it was before? Before he ever introduced you to Gwilym. If he hadn’t brought you to the screening that night would you and him ever met? Would Joe have at some point realized his feelings while you were still available? Was there an alternate universe where you and him Facetimed Gwil to show off the ring on your finger?

Then Joe blinked and you were in his arms once more. He held you tight, never wanting to let you go. He focused on making sure that the weekend was chock-full of activities, wanting to enjoy the little time he had left with you. Joe was no idiot, he was never going to get a chance to spend a weekend just the two of you ever again.

But why did you have to keep bringing up Gwil and the wedding? He was getting worse and worse at avoiding the subject. He knew you were on to him. There were only so many times he could change conversation topics abruptly before you would notice. You were no idiot either.

And then you sat on his couch on that last night and asked him point blank. He knew he couldn’t lie to you anymore. He wasn’t strong enough.

He hadn’t seen you that angry in years. The last time you’d yelled at him like that was when he spilled coffee on a brand new rug you’d splurged on for your apartment. But this problem couldn’t be fixed with an apology cake and a surprise trip to Restoration Hardware on Joe’s dime.

And then Joe blinked once more and you were in his bed, bare and writhing underneath him. He knew as it was happening that you hadn’t suddenly changed your mind. He didn’t get to call you his. There was still a ring on your finger when your hand gripped Joe’s bicep. He simply enjoyed the moment as much as he could. His heart was breaking as you both rode out waves of pleasure, a desperate exchange of affection that shouldn’t have ever happened. Once again, it was all his fault. He shouldn’t have kissed you. And he shouldn’t have made it your responsibility to put an end to it.

That fateful weekend didn’t happen. Not as far as you and Joe were concerned. You wordlessly agreed to never speak about it ever again. He knew you never told Gwil. If you had, none of you would have been standing in a beautiful field somewhere in Wales, all dressed up and celebrating the union of two of Joe’s favorite people in the world.

While Joe watched the pair of you share your first dance, he sipped at his flute of champagne and remembered what you whispered to him at the airport, words that would forever haunt him.

I will always love you, but I’m in love with Gwil.

He wondered if anyone would ever notice that the two of you didn’t talk to each other anymore, outside of group settings. If anyone did, they didn’t ask. Maybe they all knew. Maybe all of them had figured out Joe’s feelings for you before he ever had. And maybe Joe wasn’t as good of an actor as he realized.

And I know she’ll be happy as his bride. And I know I will never be satisfied.

◈◈◈

Perm Taglist: @queenlover05​ @mrhoemazzello​ @johndeaconshands​ @madamsledge​ @sadhwstudent​ @stardust-galaxies​ (let me know if i missed you)

[solarune]

so this is love

pairing: na jaemin x fem!reader, (implied) lee jeno x na jaemin

genre: cinderella au, sort of but not really a greek mythology au (the fairy godmother is based off of both the character in the movie/fairytale as well as calypso), fluff, angst

warnings: very vague allusions to abuse (family treats jaemin horribly like in the fairytale, that’s it), unrequited love, uh angst lol

word count: 12,978

summary: as the years go by and you watch jaemin grow up, you begin to forget what your job as his fairy godmother really is: to help him find true happiness.

a/n: this is my first time ever writing a fic this long and i’m honestly very proud of myself. i didn’t think it would be as long as it is but here we are. shoutout to my girl kelly @mingyoongles​ for editing this monstrosity for me ily. this took me so long so i really hope you enjoy it!

You feel a tear slip down your cheek as you fade from view, Jaehyun’s eyes opening just as you vanish from your spot in front of him—along with your spot in his memories. You hear a woman call out his name, feeling your heart pang in your chest when you see the wide smile that instantly appears on his face at the sight of her. She takes his hand in hers and they continue to walk down the busy street, their figures disappearing amongst the crowd in a second.

You hear Jaehyun’s laughter clear as day. The sound makes you smile but causes your heart to break at the same moment. Another person that you’re destined to help and fall in love with but not destined to be loved by in return. You rub at the tattoo of a dolphin on your wrist, wondering again why the Fates had made you a descendent of Calypso and thereby cursed to be unloved forever. 

The world around you becomes blurry as you’re transported somewhere else, only having a few moments to take a deep, shuddering breath in an attempt to calm down before you materialize in a large bedroom. You see women gathered around a bed and a man kneeling at the head of the bed, clutching what must be his wife’s hand. Your eyes move to his wife just as she opens her mouth and an ear-piercing scream is the first thing that welcomes you to your new assignment.

The first time you meet Jaemin is when he’s exiting the womb.

“One last push, miss, you’re almost there,” a midwife encourages the woman as she grabs a blanket from another midwife beside her, the mother groaning in response as she goes through the last few grueling minutes of labor.

You watch as the child is welcomed into the world, thick hair already sitting atop its head as it cries loudly and flails its arms around. Nurses bustle around the mother as they attempt to clean her up, but the mother only has eyes for her child, immediately reaching her arms out as the midwife walks up to her. She places the child into her arms and the father rushes to her side, the two of them staring down at their beautiful baby. Her hair is matted to her forehead, skin pale, and breathing still shallow from the amount of strain she put in, but her eyes seemed to hold all of the love in the world. “Hello Jaemin,” she whispers as she kisses her baby’s head, her eyes closing as she holds him tighter to her.

The first time you formally meet Jaemin, he’s 4 years old.

Jaemin’s laugh can be heard echoing through the garden as he chases a butterfly around, a wide smile on his face as he clenches and unclenches his chubby hands into fists. You’re seated up on the branches of a tree in the farthest corner of the garden, your legs swinging as a breeze ruffles your blue robe. Jaemin’s parents had left to go out into the town a few minutes ago and had left him under the care of one of their maids. Usually you would never take it upon yourself to babysit him, but something in you told you to keep a close eye on him, and you had learned to trust your gut in the 4 years that you’ve been here.

Never before had you been assigned as someone’s fairy godmother and been forced to watch them grow up. You had always come into their lives at the time that they most needed it, your job being to help them find true happiness. But Jaemin was just born when you had come into his life, so what was there for him to truly need? So for 4 years you kept yourself hidden, watching his mother and father raise him in the estate that you’ve now come to call home (not like they knew though). You had been there during his first steps, his first words, his first snowfall, his first everything—you had been there for it all, invisible but always close at hand.

You’re drawn out of your thoughts by a dull thump, looking down at Jaemin and smiling when you see him playing with the ball that his father had given to him just last week. He’s throwing the ball around as he animatedly talks to his imaginary friend, Joonyoung, encouraging him to catch the ball as he throws it higher and higher. Jaemin runs closer to the tree that you’re perched on and you can’t help but laugh at how excited he is. That is, until he throws the ball far too high and it ends up getting stuck between the branches right below your feet. You watch the panic flit across his face as he gazes up at the tall tree in front of him, his whole body spinning around as he searches for anyone to help him retrieve his ball. Slowly, the young boy turns back around to gaze sadly at the ball, his lower lip quivering at the fact that there was nothing he could do. 

You feel your heart ache as you watch the first few tears roll down his cheeks and you can’t resist standing up on the branch to help him. You pull your wand out to get rid of the invisibility spell and help you float down to the ground, your feet touching the grass as you think, I’m gonna have to introduce myself eventually. Jaemin watches you with wide eyes as you land in front of him, not even taking notice of his ball as he goes from staring at your face to your blue robe to the white wand in your hand.

“Hello,” you greet him softly, a wide smile on your face as you hold out the ball to him. “Is this yours?” Jaemin nods, slowly taking the ball from your hands as he continues to stare at you in awe. “My name is (Y/N). What’s yours?”

“Jaemin,” he whispers shyly, his ears turning red as he fidgets with his toy.

“Well Jaemin, you should be more careful with your toys,” you gently reprimand him, walking forward to spin him around and urge him back to where he was playing before. “You don’t want to lose them, do you?” The boy walks forward without question but turns around when he doesn’t hear you following him. When he looks back, his eyebrows furrow because you’re nowhere to be found. He glances around the garden, even looking up at the branches of the tree for good measure, but Jaemin can’t seem to find the nice lady that gave him his ball back.

“Jaemin, it’s time to come inside! Your mother and father are home!” one of the maids calls from inside. You watch from your spot against the tree as he runs back inside the estate, shouting excitedly for his parents while the ball lies forgotten in the middle of the garden.

The next time you meet Jaemin, he’s 7. And this time, he realizes you aren’t just a dream.

After the fateful first encounter, Jaemin had convinced himself that it hadn’t actually happened.

Fairy godmothers aren’t real and he definitely knows that magic doesn’t exist, so whoever that woman in the blue robe was was just a figment of his imagination. So his life continues as normal; his parents continue to dote on him the way that loving parents do, he makes friends with the other kids in the town, picks up gardening as a hobby and starts doing it with his mother, and he creates his own little hideout in the tree in the farthest corner of the garden (the same spot that you were sitting in 3 years ago, unbeknownst to him).

Every Saturday, Jaemin and his mother go out into the town’s square to walk through the market. And today, much to Jaemin’s excitement, is Saturday. The sky is bright blue, the birds are chirping, and Jaemin takes a deep breath as he steps out of the estate holding his mother’s hand. You take a deep breath at the same time as him, savoring the sweet smell of the first day of spring. The sun feels delightfully warm on your skin and your magic feels stronger, your senses heightened due to the spring equinox, allowing you to detect even the slightest shift in the magic flowing through the earth. During every solstice and every equinox, your magic is at its peak and you can’t help but be excited every time it happens. You’re not particularly sure why this happens, nobody had ever explained it to you, but it just felt good to know just how connected you are with the earth below you.

You trail behind Jaemin and his mother as they walk to the market, the boy animatedly telling his mother about the squirrel that sat next to him yesterday in the garden. He’s waving his arms every which way, his eyes sparkling while the smile never leaves his face, and in that moment, you can see the uncanny resemblance between mother and son as she smiles down at him.

As his mother looks through a stall’s vegetables, a group of kids calls out to Jaemin, asking him to play with them. The boy turns to his mother, barely opening his mouth before she urges him forward with a, “Go play with your friends, darling. Just don’t be home too late.” He parts from her with a tight hug, a wide smile on his face as he runs towards his friends, the group of boys getting lost in the bustling crowd as you simply stand and watch. You decide to leave Jaemin be for now, allowing yourself some alone time as you wander the streets and browse through the various things that people are selling.

When the sun is at its highest point in the sky, the day finds you in the town square, sitting on the edge of a fountain as you bite into an apple. You tilt your face upwards as you chew, closing your eyes to let all of the sounds and smells wash over you. The beginnings of drowsiness begin to creep up on your body, but when you hear the loud voices of a group of boys, your ears perk up, eyes opening to see what all the commotion is about.

“I can’t believe Jaemin would really just leave us like that, we were in the middle of a game!” a dark-haired boy, whose name you think is Hyunjin, exclaims.

The 3 other boys with him shrug their shoulders, one of them saying, “Maybe his mother wanted him home early. 

You jump up from your seat on the fountain, the apple in your hand falling to the ground as you pull out your wand from your sleeve. Jaemin always came back home by going through the town square because he loved to stop by the bakery to get something sweet to eat. You hadn’t sensed him near you or seen him walk by and you feel your stomach tighten at your worry. Trusting your gut, you wave your wand to transport yourself to wherever Jaemin is.

Leaves crunch underneath your feet when you materialize, the air around you a bit cooler due to the shade that was provided by the forest that you suddenly find yourself in. You can sense Jaemin near you and follow your gut once more, stumbling upon a small clearing and seeing him sitting on a tree stump in the middle. A small, white daisy is pinched between his thumb and forefinger, the boy subconsciously twirling it as he looks around him. Feeling a sense of déjà vu, you rid yourself of the invisibility spell and slowly walk towards the boy, a soft smile appearing on your face when his head whips towards you and the two of you make eye contact.

At your appearance, Jaemin’s eyes widen and you can practically hear the gears turning in his head. You can’t help but smile wider at his expression, stopping halfway between the edge of the clearing and where Jaemin is seated. “Hello, Jaemin,” you greet him. “Are you lost?”

Jaemin’s mouth opens and closes for a few seconds, the boy at a loss for words as he stares at you with a mix of shock and wariness. “I-It’s you,” he whispers hoarsely. He clears his throat and continues, “You were the woman in the tree. From before.”

You nod at his words with your hands clasped loosely in front of you, the breeze ruffling your robe around your ankles. “I’m not just a dream like you told yourself,” you chuckle, taking a few steps closer when you see his body relax, though you notice a flush creeping up his neck from your words. “I’m-“

“My fairy godmother.” You look at Jaemin in surprise, the boy flushing an even darker red when he realizes that he interrupted you. You continue walking towards him as he continues talking. “Sorry. But that’s who you are, right? (Y/N), my fairy godmother? My mother would always tell me stories about them when I was younger, but I never really believed her. You’re really real?”

“As real as the trees around us,” you respond, patting the tree stump that he’s sitting on to emphasize your point. “I’ve been watching over you ever since you were born.” Albeit a bit unwillingly, you think to yourself, but he doesn’t have to know that. He scoots over and you sit beside him, looking up at him with a small smile. Whatever it takes to get Jaemin to trust you, right? You are the one responsible for helping him find true happiness after all. You take the white flower from his hand and place it in his hair, and you’re reminded of when Taeyong would do that to you. You spent every day in that florist’s shop, and every day he would place a flower in your hair and your cheeks would turn as red as a tomato, just like Jaemin’s are doing right now. Your chest tightens as you remember Taeyong, but you shake the memories away in favor of staying in the moment. You can’t afford to get distracted right now. 

Jaemin continues to stare at you in awe and you can feel your cheeks heat up a bit at all of the attention. “So,” you say after clearing your throat, wanting to keep the conversation going to fill up the awkward silence. “How about we get out of here, hm?”

Jaemin is only 10 years old when his mother dies.

Standing invisible next to the boy as he holds her hand, you can’t help but shed a few tears for the woman who has strangely come to feel like family to you. She was the spot of sunshine in Jaemin’s life; he would greet her with a bone-crushing hug and sloppy kiss when she came home and would hold her hand every chance he got. His mother meant absolutely everything to him, and you would feel your heart swell at how happy the two would look together. And now their time together, as short as it was in the grand scheme of things, is coming to an end.

You place a hand on Jaemin’s shoulder, the boy barely acknowledging the invisible touch that he knows is from you as your thumb rubs circles into the fabric of his shirt in an attempt to soothe him. You can practically hear his heart break when his mother gives him a weak smile, the sorrow in her eyes telling you that she knows that she only has a few moments left with her son. Her hand shakes as she reaches out to place something in his hand. There’s a flash of gold and then it’s gone, Jaemin’s mother curling his fingers over the object as tears slide down both of their cheeks.

“We’ll meet again soon, I promise,” she rasps out, wiping away her son’s tears as he looks on with a pained expression. “But until that day comes, just know that I will always be with you. And should you need a reminder, you can always open that.”

Jaemin looks down at his hand and opens it, his breath catching in his throat when he sees his mother’s gold locket in his hand—the same locket that his father had given to her for their first wedding anniversary. With her encouragement, he opens it to reveal a piece of paper with the words I love you in her handwriting. 

That same night, Jaemin’s mother dies and the note in the locket has an additional line: I miss you.

At the age of 12, Jaemin’s father tells his son that he’s met someone.

“Is she nice?” is definitely not what he or you expect Jaemin’s initial reaction to be. But then again, he is his wife’s son. Jaemin knew that one day, his father would move on and so would he, and so he accepted the fact that their small family would grow again some day. 

His father tells him that she’s a widow with 2 sons, both of them the same age as him. She had married into nobility but when her husband died of a heart attack, she suddenly stopped receiving financial support from her family. Jaemin feels his heart sink at that; family is family, no matter what. Who could be so cruel as to cut off their loved ones completely like that? Unlike Jaemin, you’re a bit wary of this stranger and her 2 children who are suddenly coming into Jaemin’s life, having felt more and more protective of him as the years went by and especially after his mother died. But for his benefit, you decide to remain positive; after all, he had been raised as an only child for so long, so it would be good for him to finally have company in the large estate.

Days turn into weeks which turn into months, and one year later, you find yourself watching Jaemin lug the last of his stepmother’s trunks into the foyer. You try to keep a scowl off your face as he does so, your distaste in the new members of his family already having been discussed with him previously. You had tried to tell him that they aren’t who they say they are, that you had seen her sons stealing in the marketplace while she turns a blind eye, had seen his stepmother flirting with the widowed butcher for some extra meat, and had seen those boys ruining his mother’s flower garden in the front yard by running through it. But he didn’t listen, always coming up with excuses for them: “You must have been mistaken, the marketplace is always busy so it could’ve been anyone!”, “Perhaps she was just being nice, did you even hear their conversation?”, “The soil needed to be turned anyways, so if anything, they helped!”

The last excuse had surprised you, probably even himself as well, because you had seen a flash of hurt cross Jaemin’s face when you mentioned the flowers. Gardening was something he only ever did with his mother, always offering to carry the bags of soil or the heaviest flower pots. The two would work tirelessly to create the most beautiful plots, their clothes soaked-through with sweat and Jaemin’s entire body covered in dirt by the time they were done.You had hoped that he would get back into it after a while, but after seeing him burst into tears whenever he tried, you suppose it’s better that he stopped.

He looks over at Donghyuck and Renjun (his new brothers, he reminds himself) lounging around in the living room, brushing it off when he sees them throwing a ball back and forth—they were probably tired from all of the packing and the journey to their new house. Meanwhile, you’re narrowing your eyes at the two boys because something is telling you that their exhaustion is just an act.

“That’s the last of them, stepmother,” Jaemin says cheerily as he turns to the woman in question. She gets up from where she was sitting on the grand staircase, warm smile on her face as she approaches him. Your eyes follow her figure as you sit on the railing of the stairs, legs swinging in tandem with the swish of her hips.

“Thank you very much for your help, Jaemin,” she says while pulling him into a one-armed hug, the other preoccupied with holding her rather mean-looking cat. “We’re all very tired from the move, as you can imagine. Even poor Woong-ie is exhausted.” She holds up the cat in front of Jaemin’s face and he reaches out to pet him, but jumps back when the feline hisses and tries to scratch him.

“I don’t think he likes me very much,” Jaemin says sheepishly, glancing at the cat once more and shocked to find it glaring at him. You shoot daggers at the animal, smirking when you see its fur beginning to stand; even though it can’t see you, it can still sense you.

Just then, Jaemin’s father comes down from upstairs, announcing, “Your mother and I are going out tonight so that you boys can get to know one another without the adults around.” He smiles at his son, ruffling his hair as his new wife links arms with him. “We won’t be home late. Be good.”

“Always,” Jaemin replies after giggling and pushing his father’s hand away. He closes the door behind his parents before entering the living room. “So what do you guys want to do first?”

“Jaemin, Renjun and I are very tired,” Donghyuck sighs as he catches the ball that his brother throws to him without even looking, you rolling your eyes at how dramatic the boy sounds. “Would you mind taking our things up to our rooms? We can get to know one another after. 

“Of course!” Jaemin exclaims, and you could tell that he was mentally berating himself for asking his brothers to play when he already knew how tired they were (though he didn’t actually know, much to your disdain).

He picks up two of the trunks and begins his trek up the stairs, eyes widening and head shaking back and forth frantically when you materialize. The trunks float out of his hands and up the stairs and Jaemin has to stop himself from squeaking, scrambling up the stairs and grabbing them before his brothers could see. “(Y/N), have you gone mad?” he hisses at you as he takes the stairs two at a time. “What if they suddenly come out and see you?” 

With a sigh, you slip your wand back into your sleeve, quietly lowering the remaining suitcases back on to the ground before he could notice. “Jaemin, you’re tired too,” you chastise him as you follow him to their bedrooms. “You already carried all of their things into the house, I don’t see why they can’t take their things up to their rooms.”

Jaemin waves off your grumbling, bounding down the stairs to grab another two trunks. “I need the exercise anyways,” he says with a wide smile. “I haven’t been getting as much since I stopped gardening.”

Your shoulders sag when he says that, eyes following him wordlessly as he continues. He lugs the six trunks to their respective rooms after denying your help, and you wonder just how much stuff they own as he makes his way down the stairs once the last one was placed in Renjun’s room. He stands in front of the stairs with his hands on his hips, panting from the effort as he looks around at the finally empty foyer. With a satisfied sigh, he makes his way back towards the living room, almost tripping over Woong in the process, only to find his brothers gone and the front door ajar.

Another year passes, and Jaemin faces nothing but open doors and empty rooms; nothing has changed. Jaemin is still kind as ever to his stepmother and siblings, blissfully unaware at the fact that he’s constantly being taken advantage of. His father doesn’t take notice of these things because he spends almost all of his time at work now to make ends meet for his 2 new sons, wanting nothing more than to eat dinner and go to bed when he comes home. But then all of a sudden, everything changes.

At the age of 14, Jaemin’s father dies. And you are the only person that Jaemin has left.

At the sound of the first bell chime, you appear in Jaemin’s room perched on the windowsill, the sun warm on your back. At the third bell chime, you sigh because you know you’re going to have to force him out of bed again. At the final seventh bell chime, you wave your hand and the blankets are ripped off of him, the boy groaning the second his body is exposed to the chilly morning air. You watch in amusement as he blindly fumbles around for the blanket, huffing out a laugh when he sits up to glare at you with his hair sticking up in different directions. “Can’t you just let me sleep in for once? It’s been 5 years, I deserve at least 10 more minutes.” He squints against the morning sunlight, hands coming up and running through his hair in an attempt to flatten it down.

The way his hair is sticking up and his tired grumbling remind you of Jaehyun and how difficult it was to get him up in the mornings, but you quickly push those memories down. Jaehyun was the past, you have to focus on Jaemin now. No use in thinking about what could’ve been with him; what could’ve been with any of them had you not been cursed. “Excuse me, I seem to recall that you are the one that asked me to wake you up every day if you weren’t up by the seventh bell,” you retort, flicking your wrist so that the blanket is thrown in his face. “I’m just doing what you told me to.” 

“Yeah well, maybe the reason I’m not truly happy yet is because I have to wake up so early,” Jaemin jokes, his natural good mood already starting to appear. “Let me wash up and then I’ll get started.”

You nod at that, leaving his room in the tower quietly to allow him to get ready for the day. At this early in the morning, you knew that no one else would be awake so you take the time to walk through the deteriorating estate. With a wave of your wand, the windows, curtains, and carpet in the corridor are cleaned, the remaining bits of lingering magic leaving a soapy scent in the air. You try not to interfere with Jaemin’s chores too much, per his request, but sometimes you just can’t help yourself. You stop in front of a large portrait of his father and sigh, your mind wandering back to the early days of Jaemin’s father’s death.

You remember how absolutely heartbroken he was to go through the death of his other parent, knowing that although he still had a family, his true family was gone. But just as always, he pushed through. He did everything he could to help around the house, and as money continuously got tight, more and more of the staff left until it was just Jaemin. And you knew the truth; you knew that his stepmother and step-brothers were just squirreling it away for themselves, only providing the bare minimum to put food on the table and to buy new clothes. You knew the truth and you told him, but Jaemin refused to let that stop him because if he did, who would do all of the work that needed to get done? So for the past 5 years, Jaemin has essentially been a servant for his family, cooking and cleaning and taking care of the animals in his family’s huge estate because there’s no one else. And you have hated every minute of it.

“(Y/N), what did I tell you about doing my chores for me,” Jaemin chastises you, stopping to stare at the portrait of his father next to you with a smile on his face. 

“It was just the corridor this time, I didn’t do anything else,” you huff as you cross your arms, your heart jumping in your chest when you look up to see Jaemin smiling down at you. Out of all of the people you’ve been sent to help, Jaemin is definitely your favorite. With a heart of gold, bright smile, and sparkling eyes, it’s hard not to fall in love with him. 

For the rest of the day, you follow Jaemin around as he does his various tasks around the house, talking to him and keeping him company while you watch. You don’t even bother to try to help him secretly because you know he’ll just end up catching you anyways (he somehow always knows, and part of you wonders if he’s able to detect magic). A drop of sweat slides down the side of his face as he scatters food along the ground for the chickens and you walk over with a towel to wipe it away. He smiles at you gratefully and you falter, the towel lingering against his face as you stare up at him. He’s certainly not the same quiet little 4 year old that got his ball stuck in a tree, you think to yourself as you appreciate the angles of his face, face flushing as the two of you continue to stare at each other. Jaemin opens his mouth to say something and you can feel yourself leaning closer to him, but the moment is interrupted by the ringing of 3 bells. 

“Jaemin!” 3 voices yell simultaneously, and you sigh as Jaemin rushes inside, scrambling to balance the 3 trays in his hands to bring to his family for their morning tea.

“Open in the name of the King!” a gruff voice yells from outside following 3 loud knocks. Your back straightens as Jaemin scrambles to get up from where he was sat on the floor, rag and bucket of soapy water abandoned as he opens the door. He reveals a man dressed in uniform, various medals decorating his chest as he exclaims, “An urgent message from His Imperial Majesty!” He pulls out an envelope from inside his jacket and hands it to Jaemin, bowing deeply while the boy stutters out his thanks, and Jaemin watches as he scurries back into his carriage, presumably to deliver more letters.

You stand on your toes to try to peer at the letter from behind him, calves straining as you struggle you get higher. You don’t notice the way you’re leaning on him and holding on to his arm for a better look until your eyes flick up and are staring directly into his. You almost choke at the close proximity and immediately take a small step back, tucking your hair behind your ear as you keep your eyes on the envelope in his hands. The curse, you remind yourself. Remember the curse. But it’s no use; you love him, there’s no denying that. “W-What does it say?” you stutter, a frown appearing on your face when Jaemin suddenly turns and begins to make his way upstairs. “Where are you going?”

He stops on the stairs to smile at you, waiting for you to catch up as he runs his thumb over the ink on the envelope. “You know that stepmother will have my head on a plate if I dared to open this before her.” He shakes his head at you before continuing up the stairs, the strumming of a guitar becoming clearer as you walked. “Besides, I think it’s time for their music lesson to have a break, don’t you think?” You laugh at that, Renjun’s incorrect guitar chords and Donghyuck’s unstable vocals making the both of you wince as you get closer to the study. 

At the sound of Jaemin’s knock, Donghyuck stops singing and you hear the bang of piano keys before his mother lets out a sharp, “Yes?”

Jaemin opens the door slowly, face sheepish as his gaze meets the smug ones of his siblings. “I’m sorry to interrupt-“

“Then you shouldn’t have in the first place,” Donghyuck sneers, he and Renjun laughing to themselves as their mother shushes them with a smile on her face.

“B-But this letter just arrived from the palace,” Jaemin stutters out, and you swear that you could hear his heart racing in his chest from Donghyuck’s teasing. Your hands tighten into fists at your side but you urge yourself to calm down, knowing that there’s unfortunately nothing you can do.

“From the palace?” Renjun repeats, him and his brother rushing over to rip the letter from Jaemin’s hands. “Give it to me!” He and his brother fight over who gets to open the envelope, their mother grabbing it from the both of them before they could ruin it.

“Boys, calm yourselves,” she scolds them softly, the both of them rolling their eyes before urging her to read it. “There’s to be a ball,” she gasps, looking up at her sons with wide eyes. 

“A ball?” they repeat, equally as shocked.

“In honor of Her Highness, the princess,” their mother continues.

“The princess?” the boys repeat once again. You’re starting to wonder if this family has more than 3 collective brain cells, 2 of which belong to their mother.

“And,” she finishes, pausing for what you guess is dramatic effect. “By royal command, every eligible gentleman is to attend.”

“That’s us!” Renjun exclaims, grasping his brother’s shoulder tightly as he looks at him excitedly.

“And I am much more than eligible,” Donghyuck smirks, a hand coming up to run through his hair to sweep it back.

“That means I can go too!” Jaemin gasps as he steps forward to glance at the letter. He steps back when his family looks up at him, and you take a protective stance in front of him, invisibly glaring at his step-siblings as they laugh at him. “Why are you laughing? I’m still part of the family. And besides, it said ‘by royal command, every eligible gentleman is to attend’. I have to go!”

“Just imagine you dancing with the princess?” Renjun guffaws, he and his brother falling over each other from how hard they were laughing. “Oh, I would be honored, Your Highness! And might I say that my dish rag goes very well with your dress!” The two of them dance in a circle to mock Jaemin even more, Jaemin’s shoulders sagging at their words.

“The dirt underneath the princess’s shoes is worth more than the dirt on your face,” Donghyuck sneers, letting out a laugh when Jaemin subconsciously rubs at his cheek. “Face it, Jaemin, you’re just going to embarrass us.”

“Boys, that’s enough,” their mother finally says, effectively quieting them. “Now I see no reason for Jaemin to not attend the ball as well.” Jaemin’s eyes, as well as yours, widen at her words; where had this sudden change of heart come from? “That is,” she says, turning her eyes directly on him and raising an eyebrow. “If you get your chores done. And of course, if you’re able to find something suitable to wear.”

Jaemin reveals his outfit to you with a flourish, grinning from ear to ear as he holds it in front of his body and admires himself in the mirror. “It was my father’s,” Jaemin says softly. “He outgrew it and knew that I would grow into it. Beautiful, isn’t it?”

You will admit, it is quite beautiful. The jacket and vest are a deep red color with gold trimming and gold vines around the wrist and upper chest area. There are gold buttons on each side of the opening, and the back is longer than the front. The pants had a similar design with the vines running down the side of the legs. But you just couldn’t get over the number of ruffles and dangly bits around every single edge of clothing possible. “It is beautiful,” you agree. “But perhaps a bit… Outdated.”

He chuckles softly at that, looking down at the floor before looking back up at you. “The ruffles and things are a bit much, aren’t they?” he asks, wrinkling his nose in response to you wrinkling your own and nodding. “Well that’s no matter. I’ve actually been planning out how I want to fix this up for a few years now.” He crouches down and begins searching for something at the bottom of his wardrobe, his voice muffled as he continues, “I drew it out in the back of an old design book that mother had… If only I could find it…” Just before Jaemin can begin his search in the very back of his closet, the shrill shriek of his stepmother’s voice calling for him makes him jump. He lets out a sigh as he stands up, squeezing his eyes shut as you brush the dust out of his hair. He smiles at you gratefully and then runs towards the door, casting one more glance back at you and his father’s suit before running down the stairs.

“He’s never going to be able to fix this if that wench keeps calling him down for useless chores,” you mutter to yourself, rubbing the fabric of the sleeve between your thumb and forefinger as you get lost in thought. You know that Jaemin’s stepmother has every intention of keeping him busy until the ball, but maybe…

Your posture straightens when Donghyuck’s voice floats up from downstairs, complaining about his black trousers having a stain on them and “how am I supposed to marry the princess with a stain on my trousers, mother?” The gears in your brain begin to turn when Renjun’s voice immediately follows with a “I’ve had this shirt for nearly two years now, I have nothing new to wear!” After a slam and a thud, you’re bounding down the tower stairs so fast that it feels as if the winds of Zephyr himself were carrying you down. Lying on the floor of the foyer is a pile of clothes deemed unworthy by Renjun and Donghyuck’s standards but considered a luxury in Jaemin’s eyes. You pick out the pants with the stain and Renjun’s “old” shirt, rifling through the pile for anything else that could be of use. You hear a door open behind you and immediately turn around, the breath that you had unknowingly been holding exiting your mouth in a soft sigh when you see that it’s just Woong. The feline regards you with narrowed eyes and lets out a hiss at your presence, scurrying out of the room when you narrow your eyes in response.

“Evil cat,” you mumble, gaze still following him as he enters a different room in the house. You gather your things and make your way back up to Jaemin’s room, careful to turn yourself invisible this time in case any of his family was walking around. Once you’re back in his room, you lay out the pants on his bed and place the jacket and shirt beside it. You pull out your wand from your sleeve and get to work, the tip glowing a bright orange as you drag it along the edges of the jacket to remove the fringe and ruffles. It changes to a bright blue color when you move to the dirty clothes and tap your wand on the stains, watching with a satisfied smile as they disappear. You get rid of the design on the buttons of the jacket and vest so that they’re a plain gold and get Jaemin’s nicest pair of shoes from his closet to place them on the floor. With a wave of your hand, the outfit is hung up against the door of the wardrobe and hidden away, waiting to be revealed once Jaemin comes back.

You fall asleep on Jaemin’s bed while waiting for him to finish his chores, your dreams filled with the people that you’ve fallen in love with while helping them find their true happiness. You dream about Jaehyun and his bride-to-be, Sooyoung and her husband in her newly opened bakery, Taeyong and the first time he sets eyes on his lover in his flower shop. Your memories swirl around you in a haze of heartbreak and reluctance, the anger that you feel towards the gods only temporary because you know that no matter what you do, nothing will convince them to lift the curse of Calypso. Jaemin materializes in front of you and you reach out to him, your fingers just brushing against his when he disappears, only to reappear a few feet away from you, smiling at a figure next to him. You can’t make out any features but even in your dream state, you know what this means. His true happiness will reveal itself to him soon.

Your eyes flutter open just as Jaemin’s bedroom door opens, his shoulders slumped as he drags his feet towards the window. “You’re back,” you croak, voice thick with sleep. Jaemin merely hums in response, gaze refusing to leave the night sky above him. You feel sad as you look at him, the feelings from your dream still lingering, but you can feel something else; his own sadness as he looks up at the stars. “What are you doing? Shouldn’t you be getting ready for the ball?”

Jaemin turns around to reveal his sad smile to you, fingers drumming against the wooden window frame as he shakes his head at you. “My chores took a lot longer than I thought,” he shrugs, and you can tell that he’s trying his best to not look too upset. “Stepmother, Hyuck, and Renjun will be leaving soon and I don’t have enough time to fix father’s suit.”

“About that…” you trail off as you suppress the smile threatening to appear on your face. You wave your wand to open his wardrobe door, revealing to him his outfit of the night. “Ta-da!”

“(Y/N), you… You did this for me?” Jaemin asks in awe, one hand coming up to touch the jacket but withdrawing a second later, as if the clothing would disappear if he were to touch it.

“No, I actually made this for me to wear,” you tease him as you get up from the bed. “Of course I did it for you, silly. Now hurry up and put it on, the carriage will be here soon.”

You and Jaemin run down the grand staircase just as his family is beginning to head out the door, Jaemin’s shouts of “Wait! Wait for me!” stopping them in their tracks. Renjun’s and Donghyuck’s jaws drop as he runs up to them, his hands smoothing over the jacket as he beams at them. “Isn’t it stunning? Do you like it?” At his words, his stepbrothers immediately begin to protest to their mother, and you can’t help but smirk at them invisibly from behind Jaemin.

“Boys, that’s enough,” their mother scolds them, stepping forward towards Jaemin while her sons pout from behind her. “The pants suit you well, Jaemin. Don’t you agree, Hyuckie?” She turns to raise an eyebrow at him as she pinches at the fabric, and you feel yourself stiffen at her question.

“I guess,” Donghyuck replies with dismissive wave, eyes widening when he sees what his mother wants him to see. “Wait, those are my pants! Take them off!” He runs forward and grabs at the waist of Jaemin’s pants, tugging on the fabric harshly while demanding that he take them off.

“And that shirt, that’s my shirt!” Renjun shrieks, running forward to rip Jaemin’s jacket off to get at his shirt.

Jaemin’s protests are drowned out by their shrieks, their hands fluttering around him as they pinch and pull at his outfit until all that’s left is shreds of clothing, his father’s jacket lying torn at his feet. Your eyes don’t know where to look as they flick from Jaemin to his step-brothers to his stepmother. You see Jaemin’s resolve cracking with each hand they lay on him, the irritation and power radiating off of Donghyuck and Renjun as they tear their brother down, and the satisfaction and smugness in the form of a smirk and raised eyebrows on Jaemin’s stepmother. All of this is happening and you can’t do anything but watch, forced to keep yourself hidden from his family rather than stepping in to protect the boy you’ve come to love.

“Boys, boys!” their mother yells, her voice making all of you freeze in place and immediately getting her sons to stop and return to her side. “That’s quite enough. Let’s go, the carriage is waiting.” The three of them make their way towards the front door looking very satisfied with themselves, and all you and Jaemin can do is watch as they get farther away. “Goodnight,” she says with a smile before shutting the door with a dull thud. And that’s when it all comes crashing down.

You turn to Jaemin with wide eyes, your hands shaking with rage when you see him beginning to tremble. “Jaemin,” you say, unsure of what you could possibly say to make him feel better in this situation. He lets out a pained sob and you feel your heart break at just how sad he sounds. “Jaemin, I-” 

Before you can get any closer, he runs. And you let him run past you, allowing him a few moments to himself before beginning your search. You let the sound of his cries guide you to him, gaze softening when you see him at the tree in the corner of the garden. His head is buried in his arms as he sobs on a stone bench, and you’re able to make out a faint “It’s not fair,” as you approach him. You sit on the bench beside his head, your hand coming up to stroke his hair as he continues to cry. “It’s not fair, (Y/N), it just isn’t fair,” he cries, his emotions so strong that they cause your own tears to form. “I’ve tried so hard for so long to believe. Believe that you could help me, believe that I could help myself. But maybe this is just how it’s going to be. Maybe this is where I’m meant to be.”

As he continues to cry beside you, an aura of magic begins to glow around the two of you. It becomes brighter and brighter and the raw power that it exudes becomes stronger and stronger, and you know that your time with Jaemin is coming to an end soon. “Don’t be ridiculous,” you chide. “Everyone deserves to be happy, especially you.” You push his hair away from his face and coax him to look up at you, wiping at his tear-stained cheeks as you smile down at him. “It’s time, Jaemin. It’s time for you to find your true happiness.” You pull him with you as you stand up, giving him your widest smile as you try to hide just how bittersweet this really is for you. “You’re going to Princess Chaeyoung’s ball tonight, I’m making sure of it.”

“But how?” he sniffles, hands squeezing yours as his eyes water once more. “Father’s suit is ruined and I have no way of getting to the palace.”

“Have you forgotten who I am?” you tease as you reveal your wand to him. “Your stepmother may have had a few tricks up her sleeve, but I have a magic wand up mine.” Your heart skips a beat when Jaemin beams at you, hands balling into fists in excitement. “Now close your eyes and count to 20.”

As Jaemin begins counting, the tattered clothes on his body begin to shimmer and transform. The tree behind him uproots itself and bends and twists into the shape of a carriage while 7 chickens are summoned from the barn, 6 to be turned into horses while the last is turned into a coachmen. You look down and see a golden glow around your entire body as the magic does its work, and you can’t help but grimace at the sight. All of this power flowing through your veins and for what? The gods will allow you to use your magic to help people find true happiness but they have forbidden you from using it to find your own. You’ve tried fighting back against your destiny, against this curse, for so long, but they are always watching. 

“Open your eyes,” you say to him when he finishes counting. Behind you sits his horse-drawn carriage, its proud coachmen standing beside it. And in front of you stands the boy you’ve fallen in love with, looking handsome as ever and one step closer to getting his happy ending. You smile softly as he looks at his new outfit, the dark blue velvet of his jacket making the silver detailing stand out nicely. “I kept the original design of your father’s jacket, just made a few changes,” you explain. “I think blue suits you better.” 

With a wave of your wand, you produce a mirror for Jaemin to look at himself in, moving so that you can stand behind him as he analyzes your work. He first fiddles with the jacket, his fingers running over the vines at his chest and the ones running down his sleeves. He then turns every which way to look at the black trousers you’ve created, the silver vines once again running down the sides. Jaemin makes eye contact with you through the mirror and beams brightly at you. “You’ve truly outdone yourself,” he compliments you, spinning around and opening his arms to pull you into a bone-crushing hug. “Thank you, (Y/N), this really means a lot to me.” 

He pulls away from you to stare into your eyes, his own sparkling as he continues to smile down at you. You clear your throat and take a step back from him, willing your heart to stop beating so fast as you explain, “The spell will only last until midnight-”

“That long? Oh, that’s more than enough time,” Jaemin interrupts you out of excitement.

You give him a pointed look, which quiets him down, and continue. “So make sure you’re home by then. I’ll be more specific: at the first stroke of midnight, the spell will begin to wear off. If you are still at the ball by the twelfth stroke, you will be stuck at the palace in your tattered clothes. Make sure you’re home before then.”

Jaemin nods along with your words with wide eyes, walking with you as you lead him to the carriage. “I’ll be home by midnight, I promise.”

You nod and open the door for him, watching as he looks at the lush interior and then back at you, excitement dancing in his eyes. “Go,” you urge him softly. “You have a ball to get to.” 

You close the door behind him and watch as the carriage gets smaller and smaller, your stomach feeling like it’s going to turn itself inside out the farther it gets from you—the farther Jaemin gets from you. Before the rational part of your brain can stop you, you wave your wand, and suddenly you’re sitting next to the coachmen. Invisible to all, even Jaemin, you close your eyes as the wind whips your hair back, mentally preparing yourself for the heartbreak that you know will eventually come.

Jaemin is very careful as he walks around the castle towards the grand ballroom, the only sound he hears being the music and muffled chatter from the party getting louder the closer he gets. You’ve never been in a castle yourself so the both of you are taking your time as you walk up the staircase, your eyes wide as you try to take everything in. From the plush carpet underneath your feet to the marble columns on either side of you to the molding and artwork on the ceiling above you, you had never seen anything like it before.

The two of you enter the ballroom, invisible to everyone (but you more so) because their eyes were drawn to Princess Chaeyoung at the front of the room who was greeting every gentleman of every family that has come to seek her hand in marriage. A few steps behind her is her brother, Prince Jeno, and behind him sits their parents, the king and queen. Jeno looks rather bored from what you can tell from the expression on his face, and you can’t help but chuckle when you see him stifle a yawn. The prince’s eyes wander around the room as his sister continues to greet their guests, landing on something that piques his interest and causes his eyebrows to furrow. You follow his gaze and your eyes land on Jaemin, who’s wandering around the edge of the room and peering at the long velvet curtains and the windows that they cover. 

After the princess is done greeting all of her guests, 2 of whom were unfortunately Jaemin’s step-brothers (the both of you had to suppress a grimace at just how hard they tried to impress her in those 10 seconds they had her attention), the king requests a waltz. You hear suppressed groans when all of the young boys around you see that Princess Chaeyoung is dancing with her father for the first dance, and you struggle to not bump into anyone as they all scramble to find a dancing partner. From the corner of your eye, you can see Jaemin also doing the same but he ends up getting pushed in the process, and you begin to rush over to help him when you realize that he doesn’t even know you’re there. And besides, someone had already beat you to it.

Your eyes follow the hand that’s offered to Jaemin, and you feel your heart sink a bit when they’re met with Jeno’s smiling face. Jaemin takes it with a smile, and you watch as the two boys continue to stare at each other. “Hello,” Jeno greets him, and that’s when Jaemin realizes that his hand is still in his, causing him to take a step back as he lets go and bump into the balcony doors behind him as he tries to stutter out a response. “My name is Jeno.”

“Y-Your Majesty,” Jaemin responds, bowing lowly which causes Jeno’s mouth to open and close in surprise, resembling a fish. “Th-Thank you for the help.”

“Oh, you don’t need to call me that,” Jeno says as he rubs at the back of his neck, face flushing red from embarrassment. “Just Jeno is fine.” The two stare at the floor as they stand in front of each other, both of their faces red as the awkward silence stretches over them. “Do you… want to go outside for a bit?”

Jaemin nods quickly. Anything to get out of this busy crowd. Jeno shuffles behind him and opens the balcony doors, the two of them taking deep breaths of fresh air the second they step outside. You seat yourself on the railing as they stare out into the distance, Jaemin’s eyes sparkling as he gazes out at the town below him. His head turns in your direction and you freeze when his eyes land on you—or well, through you, looking at his family’s estate.

“Beautiful,” he whispers, tearing his eyes away from you to look back out at the view right in front of him, the lights down below making his face glow a dull orange.

Yeah, you think to yourself softly. You are.

Jaemin and Jeno continue to enjoy the view and each other’s company in silence, glad to be away from the bustling crowd and all of the boys vying for the princess’s attention. You block out their conversation as Jaemin asks Jeno about life in the palace and Jeno asks Jaemin about life outside of the palace. With each smile that appears on Jaemin’s face and each laugh that Jeno lets out, your heart sinks further and further. You get up from your spot on the rail and drift down into the palace gardens, no longer in the mood to be at the ball. 

You know what’s coming.

“Jaemin?” you call out, approaching him from behind. He slowly turns to face you, his mother’s locket clenched in his hands. “Are you okay?”

“This was the best night of my life,” he says softly, a fond smile on his face as he looks up at the star-filled night sky. He had just watched his carriage turn back into the tree in the corner of the garden that it originally was, and he can’t help but feel like there’s magic all around him still. “I’m more than okay. But I guess not everything is meant to go as planned.”

“What happened?” you ask, steeling yourself for anything. What could have gone wrong tonight?

He walks forward and shows you the locket, his mother’s face smiling up at you as you look down. There wasn’t a scratch on it. But something felt...wrong. “The note from my mother,” he explains, answering your unasked question. “It’s gone. I stopped outside the palace before leaving and I opened it, just to talk to her for a second, but the knights were catching up to me so I had to run and-” Jaemin pauses, laughing at the confusion on your face. He forgot that you weren’t with him at the ball tonight. “I’ll explain it later. But I guess the wind must have blown it away.”

“W-We can go to the palace and look for it, I’m sure it’s still near wherever you opened the locket,” you reassure him frantically, trying to calm your own rising panic because you know how much that locket and note mean to Jaemin. “We can-”

“It’s okay,” he cuts you off with a hand on your shoulder, soft smile still on his face. “I don’t need a note to keep her close. I know that she’s always with me.” You feel your lower lip wobble at his words, tears brimming in your eyes as you think back to the 10 year old boy who could barely step outside without crying. With a sniffle, you wrap your arms around his middle and shove your face into his chest, your tears soaking his white shirt. He pulls you back and his eyes look over you frantically, trying to figure out why you’re suddenly crying. “(Y/N), what’s wrong?”

After a few deep breaths and a few seconds to clear your throat, you finally look up at him with watery eyes. “I have been watching over you since the moment you were born, Na Jaemin. I heard your first cry, watched your first steps, heard your first word. I held you close when your mother died, wiped your tears when your father died, and stayed by your side every day. You’ve been through and have grown so much and yet somehow, you’re still the same little boy with a heart of gold that I first met. And I am so so proud of you. It’s truly an honor to know you.” You close your mouth before you can continue, knowing that if you do, you would say the three words you’ve been hiding for so long—the three words that could ruin everything.

“(Y/N),” he breathes out, his own eyes watering from just how moved he is by your words. “Wh-What’s gotten into you, why are you saying all of this? You’ve never-”

His words are cut off when he hears the faint crunch of gravel in the distance, letting him know that his family is coming home. The two of you rush back into the house and up the stairs, the loud voices of his stepmother and step-siblings drifting all the way up to his bedroom where Jaemin lays with a smile on his face. He made a new friend tonight and his best friend just told him she’s proud of him. Life is good.

It’s the next day and Jaemin couldn’t be happier. The two of you are currently in the music room and you’re watching Jaemin sweep while his brothers fool around on the other side of the room, waiting for their mother to come home and start their lesson. You’re perched on top of the grand piano, legs swinging, and you keep shooting funny faces at Jaemin while he does his chores, smiling when you see him try his best to stifle his laughter. 

“I wonder who that boy was,” Renjun speculates to Hyuck as they sprawl out on the chairs in the corner of the room. “That one with the blue jacket that Prince Jeno went up to during the waltz. I heard everyone around me saying that they had never seen him before.”

You feel your stomach drop at Renjun’s words, doing your best to mask your fear but keep the shock on your face as you look over at Jaemin. His back is turned to all of you but you can tell from his slow movements that he’s listening to their conversation now.

“Mother said the same thing too,” Hyuck responds as he picks the dirt out of his nails. “Maybe the prince went out to look for a suitor for the princess but they ended up becoming friends. Apparently, they stayed out on the balcony the whole night, just talking. I even heard the king say that he’s never seen Prince Jeno that friendly with a stranger before.”

Suddenly, his stepmother bursts into the room, causing all four of you to freeze and look at her. “The king,” she gasps, waving Jaemin over and handing him her coat as she tries to control her breathing. “The king has issued a proclamation. Prince Jeno is looking for the boy from last night, the one in the blue jacket. He wants this boy to train alongside him as a knight and the king is willing to appoint him as the prince’s groom of the bedchamber. The Duke has been searching the whole kingdom all night and will be arriving here soon.”

Her sons slump in their seats at her words, not understanding why she’s so worked up about this. “If the prince is looking for that boy, then why should we care? We’re not him,” Hyuck whines.

She takes a few steps forward and points at them. “Nobody knows who this boy is. The only clue that they have is a note that was found lying at the bottom of the stairs where the boy was last seen.” She lets out a sigh of frustration when she’s met with nothing but silence from them. “This means that the boy will get to live in the palace and has the possibility of marrying Princess Chaeyoung since he will already be acquainted with the royal family.”

At that, the two boys shoot out of their seats and run out of the room, only to quickly rush back in and throw piles of clothes at Jaemin. They shout demand after demand at him, telling him to wash their clothes and shine their shoes, but they’re only met with silence and a dreamy look on his face. During their mother’s explanation, you had watched as the wheels in Jaemin’s head began to turn and he understood exactly what this could mean for him; a life in the palace, a life with his new friend, a life away from his cruel family. Here is the chance he’s been waiting for, ready for him to take it.

“Mother, something’s wrong with Jaemin,” Renjun snickers, pointing at the glazed over look in his eyes to her.

“Pay attention, stupid,” Hyuck says loudly as he snaps in front of Jaemin’s face. “The Duke is going to be here soon and we need to get ready.”

Jaemin snaps out of his reverie with a shake of his head, dropping the clothes in his hands to smooth over his own clothes on his body. “Yes, we need to get ready,” he mumbles to himself, much to the confusion of the rest of his family. “We have to look nice for the Duke.” He begins to hum the waltz from last night as he walks out of the room, and you don’t miss the narrowing of his stepmother’s eyes before you exit as well.

You begin to follow him up to his room when he suddenly stops before going up the stairs, causing you to almost run face-first into his chest. “Would you mind making me a cup of tea while I get ready?” he asks you. “I just… I feel too excited right now so I need something to calm me down.”

You laugh at his explanation and nod, watching him as he makes his way to his tower before leaving your line of sight. Just as you’re about to enter the kitchen, you see his stepmother making her way up the stairs, and you feel the hair on the back of your neck stand up. You grab the jar of tea leaves from the shelf and begin to boil some water, mulling over what she could possibly be up to this time. Suddenly, you hear Jaemin let out a distressed cry which makes you jump, and you take the kettle off the fire before running up to his room.

“Jaemin!” you shout as you bound up the stairs, breathing hard as you run. “What’s wrong?” You turn the handle but find yourself unable to, so you begin to pound on the door. “Jaemin, let me in!”

“Stepmother!” he cries out, and you can hear as well as feel him shaking the door handle in the hopes that it will somehow break and unlock. “She locked me in here! She knows, (Y/N), she somehow knows that I was the boy with Jeno last night. She’s not going to let me leave. Please, (Y/N), use your wand and get me out of here.”

You begin patting down your robe and you feel a chill run through your spine when you don’t feel your wand hidden amongst the fabric. You take it off and shake it out, thinking it’ll just fall to the floor, but you hear nothing. “Jaemin,” you say quietly, but you know that he can still hear you. “I can’t find my wand.” The both of you are silent at your confession, neither knowing what to do but not wanting to discourage the other. “I-It’s fine,” you reassure him. “I’ll just go find it, it has to be somewhere in the house.” Without waiting for a response, you run back down the stairs as you try to remember the last place you put it. 

Running as fast as you can without missing anything, you check the foyer, the staircase, and the kitchen but come up empty. The last place you can think of is the music room and you pray to every single god you know that it’s there. And funnily enough, they answered your prayers. Except unfortunately, you’re still cursed because the wand is in Woong’s mouth. He’s sat at his owner’s feet, who’s asleep on one of the armchairs in the corner of the room, and is gnawing at your wand hard enough to cause sparks to fly out. 

“Good kitty,” you say to him calmly as you slowly approach him. You reach your hands out towards the cat and push down a wave of irritation when the cat scoots away from you. “It’s okay, I just want what’s in your mouth.” And it’s like Woong can understand you because he bites down on it and growls lowly, glaring at you through narrowed eyes. You take a step closer and bite back a groan when he gets up and runs away from you. 

It’s going to take ages to chase that damn cat around, you grumble to yourself in your head. You’re just about to go after him when you spot it: a key about to fall out of Jaemin’s stepmother’s pocket. You wave your hand in front of her sleeping face, making sure that she can’t see you and hoping that she won’t wake up from any movement, before walking closer to her. Slowly, you reach out and slide the key out from underneath her hand, almost jumping out of your skin when you hear a knock from the front door. His stepmother jumps out of her seat and you scramble to get out of her way, her dress fluttering around your ankles as she frantically fixes herself before opening the door. You quickly run back to the tower as you hear her greet the Duke and introduce her sons to him, praying that you make it in time.

You’re out of breath by the time you’re at the top of the stairs, and you’re just about to call out to Jaemin when your words die in your throat as your eyes are once again met with the demon cat. Your wand is still between his teeth and he growls at you, as if threatening to use your own wand against you. Annoyed and tired from running around, you pull back your lips and hiss at him, stunned when he lets out a yowl that causes him to drop your wand before running down the stairs. With shaking hands, you unlock the door while picking up your wand at the same time, urgently saying, “Go, Jaemin, quickly! Before he leaves!”

Jaemin whips past you and bounds down the stairs, not even bothering to check if you’re following him because he knows that you will. You can hear his family saying their goodbyes to the Duke and wishing him well, so with a wave of your wand, you give Jaemin a little push, one that puts him in the sights of the Duke at the very last second.

“Wait, Your Grace!” Jaemin exclaims from the top of the grand staircase as he waves his hands at him. “I’d like to try, if you’ll let me!”

Jaemin’s family’s eyes widen at his sudden appearance, his stepmother patting her now-empty pocket on her dress as all of them stutter out excuses as to why Jaemin shouldn’t have a chance to prove himself. Their protests fall on deaf ears though as the Duke walks forward and gestures for Jaemin to take a seat. He hands him a pen and paper and says, “This note has 2 lines of writing on it. The first says I love you, what does the second one say?”

You feel your heart clench when Jaemin lets out a soft chuckle and writes down the words he wrote all those years ago: I miss you.

You and Jaemin collapse on to his bed, the both of you tired out from packing up all of Jaemin’s things and moving them to the palace. You look around at the room and then turn your head to look at him, a fond smile appearing when you see his wide eyes staring up at the ceiling above him. His room was big, as big as his stepmother’s bedroom at his old home, and you know that it’s going to take a while for him to get used to this kind of lifestyle. Your stare lingers a little too long and you’re forced to meet his gaze when he turns to look at you with a wide smile.

“True happiness looks good on you,” you tease him, though both of you know that you really mean it. There’s no one that you’ve met that deserves to live the rest of his days in happiness more than Jaemin. 

Jaemin sits up and lets out a content sigh, looking around the room once more before turning back to you. “Jeno should be here soon. Do you think it’s a good idea to tell him about you?” he asks and your breath catches in your throat at his words. He takes your silence as shock and continues, “Because I think we should get you your own room. Not that I don’t like sharing a room with you! But also I think it’ll be hard keeping you a secret because I’ll always be around people and it’ll be a bit strange if they see me talking to no one.”

You get up from his bed and stand in front of him, placing your hands on your shoulders as you look down at him with sad eyes. “I don’t need my own room-”

“Oh good, because I actually do like sharing a room with you, and I feel like this big one will make me feel lonely. Maybe-”

“Jaemin,” you cut him off. “I’m not staying here. My job is done, you don’t need me anymore.”

“What are you talking about?” Jaemin asks, not understanding what you’re saying. Don’t need you anymore? You’re his best friend, of course he needs you; he’ll always need you. “You’re my best friend! We just moved into the palace, you can’t leave!”

“I helped you find true happiness,” you explain as you take a step back and draw your hands away from him. “It’s time for us to go our separate ways.”

He grabs your wrist to prevent you from moving back, his gaze fierce as he stands up. You’ve never noticed before but he towers over you now; he really has grown up. “No,” he protests. “You can’t leave. If you do, then I won’t be truly happy. You’ve been a part of my life for 19 years, (Y/N), and you expect me to accept the fact that just because my life is better now then that means I can never see you again?”

“Please,” you plead weakly, lightly tugging at your arm in an attempt to get him to let go. “Please don’t make this harder than it has to be-”

“Don’t make it hard at all then,” Jaemin argues, his brow furrowed as he looks down at you. Tears begin to form in his eyes and he wipes them away angrily. Why are you so insistent on leaving him? “Just stay.”

You hear thunder rumbling in the distance, and a quick glance at the window behind Jaemin shows you that it’s still a beautiful day outside. The gods are calling you. “I’m sorry, Jaemin,” you apologize, forcefully separating yourself from him with a watery smile. “I wish there was another way, but there’s nothing I can do.” You draw your wand out from your sleeve and raise it up with a shaky hand to point it at him. “It’s going to be alright,” you reassure him. “You’re not going to remember me anyways.”

His eyes widen and they flicker from your wand back to your face. “(Y/N)...” he trails off breathily. There are tears running down your face but your gaze is hard. Jaemin knows that there’s nothing he can do.

You want to tell him, to say those 3 little words so badly. But you can’t ruin this more than you already have. You weren’t even supposed to tell him that you’re leaving in the first place. “I’m proud of you, Jaemin, and I wish you the best. It was an honor to be by your side all these years, and you will always be my best friend.” 

With a wave of your wand, a mist covers his whole body, and when he opens his eyes, he finds himself standing beside his bed. What was he doing again? Standing invisibile in front of him, you watch him look around in confusion and you can’t help but reach out a hand towards him, letting it hover over his arm. You really will miss him.

The door opens and you both look up to see Jeno standing there, concern in his gaze when he sees his friend’s confused expression. “Jaemin? Are you okay?”

Their eyes meet and Jaemin smiles widely at him, exiting the room and closing the door behind him as he reassures Jeno, “I’m fine, just had a moment of déjà vu.” 

The room around you fades until there’s nothing left but a white mist floating around you. You wipe away the last of your tears as you wonder where you are. Usually you would already be meeting your new assignment by now. A glowing orb drifts down and lands in front of you, its light pulsing as it radiates warmth. “The gods have decided to be merciful,” a voice says, it’s tone soothing and low, and you wonder if it’s coming from the ball of light. “The curse shall end with you. You’ve done well, child, and it is time for you to move on.”

The orb begins to grow brighter and brighter, causing you to shield your eyes. Your ears begin to pop, as if pressure is building, and is that a faint ringing you hear? Black spots begin to dance in front of your vision and you feel yourself becoming lightheaded. What’s happening? What or who even was that? Your heart begins to race from panic and you reach out blindly as your knees give out beneath you. “Move on”? Am I becoming mortal? You open your mouth to call out to Jaemin for help, only a whispered yell leaving your lips when you remember. No… I’m dying. You remember that he’s not there, that he doesn’t even know who you are now. And that, you think, is a fate worse than death. You close your eyes. And then… nothingness.

[lgcrp]

GREETINGS, LGC SUPERSTARS!

we are officially ONE ! to celebrate the occasion we come bearing gifts !!! everyone who is in the roleplay as of today will receive freebie points as follows:

ACTOR / MUSICAL ACTOR MUSES : +20 ACTING ; +6 NOTORIETY

BAND MUSES : +20 PRIMARY INSTRUMENT ; +6 NOTORIETY

ENTERTAINER MUSES : +10 HOSTING / MCING ; +10 VARIETY ; +6 NOTORIETY

MODEL MUSES : +20 MODELING ; +6 NOTORIETY

PRODUCER MUSES : +10 COMP ( MUSIC ) ; +10 COMP ( LYRICS ) ; +6 NOTORIETY

ALL OTHERS : +20 PERFORMING ; +6 NOTORIETY

if you’re confused about what your muse has received, you can also check out the spreadsheet here. please let us know if there are any errors ! and also, you can link directly to this post or the linked spreadsheet as proof of points in your own spreadsheets !

below the cut we have messages from each of our admod staff !!! thank you all again for a wonderful first year ! we love you !!!

from admin l (el):

her message will come in the next post !!!

from admin * (kristin):

“wow! one year! funny how time passes so fast, huh? so much has happened in this past year: i graduated college, landed my first full-time job—not to forget the whole pandemic, too. but lgc’s always been the constant throughout these big changes in my life, and i’ve never been more grateful. i think i speak for a lot of people when i say that roleplaying, like any other hobby, is less about the actual roleplaying and more about the community—i mean, don’t get me wrong, i love my characters and the development i’ve had with them since their creation, but there’s just something about lgc that’s the reason i’m excited to log onto this terrible website everyday: and it’s you guys. i’ve been in the krp community since 2012, and it’s sad to see that it’s devolved into having more downs than ups throughout the years. i can’t remember that last time i stayed in a roleplay for more than a month or two, nor the last time i’ve created online friendships and connections as strong as i have here. i’ve been a member longer than i’ve been an admod, so believe me when i say: so whether you’ve just joined us or you’ve been here since the beginning, thank you. thank you so much for fostering such a welcoming and fun environment for everyone here. thank you to always bring such love and creativity to the dash, and thank you for constantly inspiring me. thank you for the excitement and the commitment, and thank you for understanding when i spend more than two months replying to a thread (lol). thank you for giving me and the rest of the admod your trust to ensure that our atmosphere’s only further expanded upon, not erased, and thank you for all the suggestions on how to make lgc a better place. it’s important to remember that lgc wouldn’t be what it is today without our members, so this anniversary is as much of achievement for us as it is for y’all. we have so much in store for this group—we promise, we’re not going anywhere!—and i personally want to honor the torch leo and ori have passed onto me as the new graphics admin. expect bigger and better things, lgc. it’s only the beginning!”

from admin g (grace):

"how has it already been one year since we’ve opened??? it feels like just yesterday when the three of us decided that we wanted to go through with opening up a new roleplay. i’ve admined many roleplays in the past, but usually, that initial lull of getting apps or the disinterest that ends up plaguing many roleplays in the early months has always left me disenchanted at the whole thing that i give up even before the six month mark so to hit such a milestone is really something remarkable for me. needless to say, it’s also just been amazing for me to be working with such a dream team who really fill in the areas in which i lack. however, at the end of the day, we also wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for all of you members. without you, lgc simply wouldn’t exist. thank you for helping this place thrive. thank you for always being excited about the events that we plan. thank you for being so willing to share your thoughts and ideas ( we’ve had so many wonderful events come to life because of our members’ suggestions and we’re always excited to receive more of those that we can incorporate ). from the moment we started brainstorming about this place, our vision has been for lgc to be an interactive community that would be shaped by its members and less by us as admins. we hope you’re able to see that vision come to life, and we know that we might be lacking still, but we hope to continue to refine our systems so that we can allow for more of that. finally, thank you all for loving my muses as well and for being so willing to plot with them. i know i’ve also been personally overwhelmed lately that i haven’t been able to plot with everyone, but i hope one day that my muses will get to meet all of yours. thank you again to all of you ( and also to all of those who have passed through lgc in this last year! ). love you all!”

from mod a ( cloud ):

one year already?? i’ve been in this rp for almost half of that and a lot has changed in those months! from joining the rp around march to becoming a mod, i have to say that it has been a pretty crazy journey! during my time in lgc, the one thing that always impresses me time and time again is the community that has been created and developed during the past twelve months. from a mun standpoint, it warms my heart knowing that the community is so welcoming towards each other. every time a new ( or returning ) muse is being brought to this lovely community, i love seeing how engaging and friendly the members are. not only that but there are also the posts that i see on the dash and while it can be a lot to go through sometimes, it’s reassuring knowing that people are willing to take the time to participate in these events and develop their muses! to me, these elements are what makes lgc what it is today and i hope that this continues in the future as well! i know that there are a lot of people i want to thank for but at the end of the day, there are two groups that i want to give my shoutouts to. the first is the admod team because they have entrusted me with this role and even though it’s only been a few weeks since i was appointed as a mod, i can attest to the amount of passion and hard work the whole team has with making sure that everyone has the best experience possible! i know that we can’t be a perfect rp, but we really do appreciate all of the feedback that has been given to us since that is what motivates us to become better. and ofc my second shoutout is to all of the members ( both past and present )! thank you for the support and effort you have given to the admod team! whether it’s posting on the dash to reading your reactions to the events, we appreciate all of that! i hope that this rp continues to prosper for many more years and once again, HAPPY ONE YEAR, LGC! 🎉

from admin c ( marie ):

“one year. it might not seem like a lot to some of you guys but when we created this project we didn’t even expect to last until christmas and that’s if we even got enough members to open. even though we’ve always planned for the long haul we didn’t think we’d be writing a first anniversary message in 2020. what a year, right? so many events happened both within our small community and in the outside world. i won’t lie, legacy requires a lot of work, organization and dedication. but we’re proud when we see you guys participate in everything with so much enthusiasm. i wanted to write a long and touching message but i can’t really find the proper words right now so i’ll just leave it as simple as possible. thank you for trusting us, for investing time and energy in your wonderful character, for choosing us and sticking around, for sending suggestions on events you’d like to see, for being respectful of us and the other members too. we could work our hardest and none of this would be possible without you guys interacting with it and being excited about it. thank you for being patient and understanding with us, and for taking minutes of your time each week to read all of the new events because we truly don’t give you any rest i’ll admit that LMAO. we’ve always wanted for lgc to be a peaceful, fun and stimulating writing environment for everyone and we hope we were able to be that for some of you. we’re still lacking and by no means perfect but we’ve always tried our best and will keep doing so for as long as you guys are on board with us ( or until we get a life maybe idk hghgjfdk ). i don’t know what the future holds but no matter what, i can say i’m proud of this project and how it turned out, not only with the admod team ( past and present ) but with every single person who helped build this place by just becoming a part of our community. i love you all and look forward to see your muses grow in the upcoming year!”

from mod y ( lissa ):

“thank you for putting your faith in us. words can never describe how much we appreciate you guys. ily all. thank you for putting your faith in us. words can never describe how much we appreciate you guys. ily all. thank you for putting your faith in us. words can never describe how much we appreciate you guys. ily all. thank you for putting your faith in us. words can never describe how much we appreciate you guys. ily all. thank you for putting your faith in us. words can never describe how much we appreciate you guys. ily all. thank you for putting your faith in us. words can never describe how much we appreciate you guys. ily all. thank you for putting your faith in us. words can never describe how much we appreciate you guys. ily all. thank you for putting your faith in us. words can never describe how much we appreciate you guys. ily all. thank you for putting your faith in us. words can never describe how much we appreciate you guys. ily all. thank you for putting your faith in us. words can never describe how much we appreciate you guys. ily all. thank you for putting your faith in us. words can never describe how much we appreciate you guys. ily all. thank you for putting your faith in us. words can never describe how much we appreciate you guys. ily all. thank you for putting your faith in us. words can never describe how much we appreciate you guys. ily all. thank you for putting your faith in us. words can never describe how much we appreciate you guys. ily all. thank you for putting your faith in us. words can never describe how much we appreciate you guys. ily all.“

[fivesevenseveneight]

Second Chances: Part 3

First Chapter | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Word Count: 1215

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Characters: Deceit (referred to as Dee) and an OC named Alastor

Pairings: Deceit x OC, eventual anxceitmus

Warnings: toxic relationship, swearing

A/n: I am so excited to share this chapter! Honestly, it’s my favorite so far. (Deceit is one of my favorite characters, so that’s probably why.) Also! Deceit (Dee) is nonbinary in this au because I’m the writer and I can do what I want. Also, I included an OC in this one because I love all the canon characters and I didn’t want to make any of them unsympathetic. Okay, I’ll stop talking and let you read now. But first!: as always, please let me know if you want to be added to or removed from the taglist or if there’s anything else I need to put in the warnings. And another shoutout to @iosonnounpanne for being my beta reader. Ily ❤️

Dee knew that love wasn’t real. At least, not the kind of love that was soft and sappy and all butterflies and rainbows. Love couldn’t be like that all the time. That’s what everyone said, wasn’t it?

Just because you’re soulmates doesn’t mean everything is always going to be perfect. Love doesn’t look like it does in the movies. Fighting is normal. You’re just being paranoid.

Dee didn’t have a lot of friends (or any friends, the voice in the back of their mind would chime in) to ask advice from when things weren’t going well with their soulmate. But that was fine. Dee had Alastor and they didn’t need anyone else. Besides, they were used to being on their own. Dee has never gotten along well with their parents, and hadn’t spoken to them since they turned eighteen and moved out. Making friends in school had been difficult, and it wasn’t helped by the large birthmark covering half of their face that had quickly gotten them labeled as the school freak. But Alastor had never seen them that way. He was kind and patient and charming and sweet… at least, he was when they’d first met. And he still was. Of course. Obviously. He was the only person who really loved Dee, so he had to be. Right?

But oh, he was so wonderful when they’d first met. He was beautiful and perfect and reckless in all the best ways. That day was the first and only time Dee had ever felt those glittering sunbursts of pure love that they’d been chasing ever since.

The two of them had met in a coffeeshop on a rainy Sunday. (Yes, Dee knew how clichéd that was. But around their soulmate, life had really felt like something out of a fluffy fanfiction.) Dee was sitting at one of the tables—you know, the really high ones, with chairs that seem about as tall as you? Well, most people probably didn’t think they were that tall. But most people weren’t as short as Dee. They were studying for an exam (they were 22 at the time, and had just started law school) and had papers and books strewn about the table. Dee was so lost in thought that they almost didn’t notice the sharp thud of one of their textbooks hitting the floor. Dee muttered and cursed under their breath, then hopped off the chair to retrieve the wayward textbook. But they forgot to take into account the height of the chair, and the fact that it had been raining all day, resulting in much less friction on the floor than Dee had been expecting… In short, Dee ended up on the ground with a sharp pain in their right hip. Dee groaned and cursed some more (not under their breath this time).

“Are you okay?”

It took a moment for Dee to realize that a stranger was talking to them.

“Do I fucking look okay?” Dee snapped.

The stranger didn’t reply, just offered out a hand. Dee took it, albeit reluctantly, and the stranger pulled Dee up. It was only when Dee was fully reoriented that they noticed the stranger staring at Dee’s hand, still in theirs, with a look of shock and awe on their face.

“What is it? What’s wrong?”

The stranger didn’t answer. Instead, they turned over Dee’s right hand so it was facing palm-up, and turned up their own right hand the same way. On both of their palms was the image of a slithering yellow snake. The two of them stood there for a moment, too shocked to say anything, until the stranger (who was no longer a stranger and never would be again) broke the silence.

“It’s you.” Dee’s soulmate had a wide, goofy grin on their face. It was so stupid and ridiculous, and Dee fell in love with it instantly. Right then, Dee knew that this was the person they wanted to spend forever with.

“Yeah, I guess so.”

The two of them exchanged names, phone numbers, and preferred pronouns (Alastor is such a pretty name, Dee thought). Then Alastor bent down and picked up Dee’s book, still on the floor.

“Can I buy you a coffee?” he asked.

Dee laughed breathlessly. “Yes. Yes, you can.”

The two of them spent the rest of the day together, just talking and laughing. Dee never wanted it to end. That day was so perfect and magnificent, in a way that no day ever had been or ever would be again.

But not every day could be that perfect. Real life didn’t work like that. Dee told themself that over and over again, as many times as it took for them to forget or just not care so much when things with Alastor were not good. But sometimes… sometimes things weren’t just “not good”. Sometimes things were bad. Really bad. Sometimes, when Dee was being really honest with themself—and they usually weren’t—they let themself wonder if there had been a mistake. If the universe had screwed up and matched the wrong two people. But they always silenced that thought as quickly as it arrived. Of course not. Of course there hadn’t been a mistake. They were soulmates, plain and simple.

Fighting is normal. You’re just being paranoid.

You’re just being paranoid.

He’s just tired. He’s had a bad day. He needs some alone time. He still loves you.

You’re just being paranoid.

Dee and Alastor didn’t fight all the time. That’s not to say that they never disagreed or got angry with each other—they did, quite often actually. But Dee had learned to hold their tongue in most instances. It was easier just to stay quiet and let him win. He always won fights anyways, in the times that Dee was too angry and fed up to keep quiet. Besides, Dee really hated fighting. It made them sad and angry, of course—but also scared. Scared of the way Alastor’s voice got loud and sharp, of how he moved just a little too quickly, and of how he seemed to tower over Dee, making them feel much smaller than they usually did, and far more vulnerable than they were comfortable with. During fights, Alastor didn’t feel so much like a soulmate anymore. Instead, he felt like a stranger again. But not the nice stranger Dee had met in the coffeeshop, the one who swept them off their feet and turned their whole world upside down. No, during fights he felt cold and angry, like someone Dee never would have wanted to meet.

But he wasn’t. He wasn’t a stranger, and Dee had met him—they’d fallen in love with him. Alastor was their soulmate. That bond didn’t just disappear. They were bound together forever. That’s how it worked. It was fate, or destiny, or something like that.

Just because their love was written in the stars or whatever, it didn’t mean that it was always going to be perfect. But that’s what love was, wasn’t it? Sticking it out, through the good and the bad? Dee could deal with the near-constant fighting, even if it made them sad and angry and very, very scared. Because, in the end, Alastor was still their soulmate, still the sweet, charming man they’d met in that coffeeshop…

Right?

(Taglist: @sociallyanxious-1)

[whorphydice]

The stars too they tell of spring returning- Orphydice Hadestown Fix it Fic no-one asked for

Well y’all I’m BACK With content no-one wanted. This time, 10 pages of angst filled fix it fic. Woo. 

And of course theres a baby. Why not.

Shoutout to @bakedbeans-orpheus and @hollywoodx4 who have heard my angst for DAYS about this fic and this verse. Ily guys. @hollywoodx4 deserves a ton of the credit for putting the image of the “finale with this verse” in my head. This is for you two who deal with me. 

Here goes nothing on the angst train

It’s a sad song

“Will it be okay.. Will it live, Hades?” Stone faced and teary eyed, she is unwavering as she asks. Looking him dead in the face, unblinking. “Persephone did she ever-”

“I don’t know, girl.” He shakes his head, eyes blinking from paperwork to her face and for yet another time in the months they knew each other doubt scattered across his features. “Noone has ever been born in Hadestown.”

Feelings. Emotions. Something she thought she would forget in Hadestown. Yet suddenly a wave of something like grief and fierce unyielding love washed through her. “Can I send her up with Persephone, at the end of winter, can she take her to Orpheus-”

“I don’t know, Eurydice. I don’t know.” Not knowing was a weakness, one he did not like to show. Yet this girl, she deserved the truth. And that truth was unknown. “Take care of yourself, stay off the line. We’ll go from there.” 

It’s a sad tale

Fall came and so did Persephone, who could tell things were wrong in the air. They were going to try, he was going to wait. And when he greeted her off the train with his usual kiss and a tight squeeze of her hands, she expected the worst.

“Hades what is it, what’s wrong.” 

“It’s the girl. You.. you need to see her.” He said briefly, linking his arm with hers and walking her through the town. He needed her to see his improved conditions. Changes he made for her. For them 

The workers had time off and reasonable shifts. Camaraderie on the lines. Other work, rather than just the line and the wall. Things were improving in Hadestown. 

 Improving for all but one. 

Hades stopped them infront of a small building, with a single flight up stairs up the front. “Go up. She’ll be excited to see you.

It’s a tragedy.

“Oh, honey.” Her stomach dropped the second she busted into the apartment, her bag all but dropping to her feet.

Eurydice was there, of course. Sitting in the bed, back to the wall. And like a song bird, she sang. The softest voice singing a melody of love- the very melody that brought the world back into tune. 

“Spring came for us down here too- Her name’s Ophelia.” Eurydice said, no need for prompting. “She looks like him, don’t you think?” In truth, no. Persephone could see nothing but Eurydice in the baby, from Dark hair to her nose. “She’s sleepin’ but she’s got the prettiest hazel eyes.” She cooed, not even looking at the goddess.  “And you’re gonna take her to him, if you can.”

“I- what? How old is she, darlin, I couldn’t take this little baby from her mama.” Persephone kneeled at the bedside, running a hand over Eurydice’s short hair. 

“She has to go, He’ll love her. He’ll love her more than anything. And she deserves better than this. She deserves springtimes and ice cream and her father.” She finally snapped her head up, eyes ringed with puffy red skin. Tears. How many had she shed over this little girl.  “She’s two weeks old. Ashame, really. I thought I could wait until you got down here to have her. She has her own agenda, it seemed.”

Ophelia was spring time. This happy, smiley little girl who the workers loved. Who brought Eurydice’s singing to town. She would tell persephone later, about how they banded together for her. How they took over her work for her, and helped her when she was too weak to move. 

“I didn’t think she’d make it, Seph. I felt her moving and kicking in there and I was sure.. I was so sure” Her voice broke in her throat as more tears pooled in her eyes. “Living things don’t survive in Hadestown. But here she is. An anomaly I guess.”

Anomaly. Just like her mother. And her father. 

“He’s going to love her.”

“And you don’t?” It wasn’t a question. It was just a fact. She could love her enough, Persephone believed that.

“I love her too much to keep her from him.”

It’s a sad song

“She can go, can’t she?”

“Ophelia? Yes. Most likely.” It was an unforeseen situation. But he owned everything in hadestown- and Ophelia he did not.  He sighed and looked away from her, unable to face the disappointment. “Eurydice, no. Not yet. I’m trying. I’m looking for a loophole. I can’t stomach it.”

She cut him off with a kiss, and a gentle hand on his cheek. “I’ll leave you to it, then.”

He wasn’t a monster, he wanted to scream to the world. To Eurydice. To Orpheus, who saved his marriage and ended his own. 

She’s coming, poet. Give her time.

But we sing it, anyway.

The only sound at that train station were sobs. Hopeless, never ending sobs from a young woman on her knees, too weak to stand. 

“Tell her how much I love her.” She begged Persephone, as the only thing she had left to go on for was taken from her. “And him. Tell him I love him and I forgive him and that she is the most important thing to me.” It was barely coherent as it stumbled out of her mouth through gasping sobs. 

She was shaking the last time she kissed her daughter’s head, prying the baby’s fingers from around the strap of her overalls. “I love you more than spring, sunshine.” Eurydice swore, letting out another gasping sob as Ophelia reached for her, little lip quaking. She was an empathetic baby, much like her dad. She felt everything her mother did. “Give your daddy a kiss for me, yeah?” 

The train whistle blew impatiently as Persephone looked between Eurydice and the train, Ophelia becoming fussy in her arms. 

“Are you absolutely sure this is what you want?” The heartbreak ripped through everyone in the vicinity, and Persephone couldn’t help but doubt if this was the best thing for everyone involved. Eurydice, especially. 

“Please, take her. Take her.” Eurydice whimpered, wiping at her eyes. “Take her and tell her how much I will always love her.” It was harder than selling her soul and leaving Orpheus.  It was harder than anything she had ever done and would ever do again. 

Persephone offered the most sympathetic smile she could as she boarded the train, the baby in her arms whimpering loudly. “I know, honey, I know.”

Hermes locked eyes with her the second she boarded, and something caught in his throat as she locked eyes with him. “Yeah brother, it’s what you think.”

As she took the seat by the window, Ophelia banged her tiny fists against the glass. “Ma?” She asked softly, before breaking out into crocodile tears. “Ma.”

“I know darlin, your mama wants you too.”

The sight of Eurydice on her knees sobbing as the train pulled away, workers gathering to help her up, is one that will haunt Persephone forever.

The sound of screams as Eurydice said goodbye to her daughter, knowing she would never see her again, will stay with Persephone every day of her life. 

On a sunny day there was a railroad car and a lady stepping off a train

Noone was ready that day, when Persephone’s train rolled up. Dozens of people flocked to see her, to give thanks. But when the door opened, the world stood still. The crowd went silent. 

Silence, as Persephone approached the boy. The boy who hadn’t sang in months. Who’s permanent smile was replaced with something like indifference. 

“Lady Persephone, I didn’t know you had a-”

“Shh, Poet.” And in a moment, the world shifted again. The crowd remained silent, with eyes only on the poet and green clad woman in the center. Without finishing her though, she deposited the whimpering baby in his arms, pressing a hand to his face. 

“Her name is Ophelia, and her mama forgives you.” 

If he hadn’t held something so precious, he would have collapsed. He vaguely remembers his heart racing and the feeling like someone was holding him under water. 

“I...she..Eurydice?” He squeaked, arms shaking as he finally looked at the baby. Dark hair, chubby little cheeks, the sweetest little face. If Eurydice was the world in his arms, Ophelia was the universe. 

“Not yet, poet. He’s tryin’” She assured, pulling her hand from his face. “She’s a fighter, that one. She’ll come home to you.”

She couldn’t tell him, that Eurydice made her peace with never seeing her daughter again. 

Every body looked, and everybody saw that spring had come again

Orpheus sang for the first time that night. The six month old wrapped against his chest in one of Persephone’s summer scarves. He picked up a guitar and sang of love. Love for a girl far away, and love for a much smaller girl nestled safely in the crook of his arm. 

Orpheus loved easily, and Ophelia was easy to love. It took effort, to learn how to care for a baby so quickly. But with lessons from Persephone, he was doing his best. And that was what he owed Ophelia and Eurydice both. 

That first night, when he held her in his arms and paced infront of the window, a sky full of stars the only source of light. 

In his free hand was a picture, the only one he had, the only one of value. 

“Her name is Eurydice, and she loves you endlessly. And I promise, I’m not gonna fail you, i’m not gonna let you down, like I did her.”

With a love song

“She hasn’t spoken in months.” Hades told her, the second she came home that winter. “I don’t know if she has a voice anymore.”

Her singing was missed in the mines. Her joy that Ophelia brought the workers. The hope she inspired. Without Ophelia Eurydice gave up.

Eurydice had no reason to hold on to herself anymore, as far as she was concerned. 

“How is the boy? And Ophelia?” He inquired, linking arms with her yet again, as he had done a year prior. 

What he wasn’t expecting were the sounds of sobs, held back in her throat.

“He’s trying so hard, Hades. But she wasn’t ready to leave Eurydice. He’s trying so hard but winter’s coming- they aren’t going to survive a winter like this.” It was horribly poetic. Eurydice sending her daughter for a better life, only to be reunited a year later in death. 

“DO we tell her?” 

“There’s nothing she can do.”

With a love song

Hades was enraged, to say the least. 

Somewhere between a desk destroyed and papers tossed into a furnace, he found himself on the ground, palms in his eyes.

Orpheus saved the world. Brought his love back to him. And he couldn’t even do the same for him. 

It had been months since Persephone returned. Over half a year since Eurydice gave up her daughter, hope, and the will to fight. 

Days since Hermes sent the message. Orpheus was dying. He’d need a ticket. 

Somewhere between papers in the furnace and getting off of the ground, he had her called in. 

He called the girl to his destroyed office, where flames ate the papers she signed many months ago.

“You’re free to leave.”

She didn’t speak, simply looked up. And for the first time since ophelia was taken topside, he saw something in the girl spark. 

“The contract..it’s burned. Gone. Invalidated, actually. Ophelia wasn’t on the contract. She’s an extenuating circumstance. You’re free to go, if you want.” He paused. “But you need to know something.”

She knew it was too good to be true, and the way she shook in her spot revealed that. “Know what?” Her throat screamed, it was like razors sliding over the delicate folds controlling her voice. 

“The boy. He isn’t doing well. Neither is Ophelia, i’m afraid. You can go be with them, be a source of comfort if you wish. Or you can wait here, for them to arrive on the train.”

Eurydice can’t remember feeling pain when her knees met the marble, and the blood drained from her skin. “They’re dying?” She croaked out, hand grasping over her heart. 

“They’re...unwell. The weather is cruel to them. And Ophelia is just so young.. The odds are not favoring them.” There was no use in lying to her. Not now. 

“But they could make it?” She asked quietly, hope in her heart for the last time.

“They could. Should I send for a train?” It was a peace offering. A train and freedom, to get home. 

Eurydice nodded, scrambling to her feet frantically. “Mr. Hades.. Thank you. Thank you so much. For everything.” She was practically out the door when he spoke again. 

“Get to the station. And Eurydice?” She turned to face the man speaking. “Since your contact was invalid, here is back pay for all the months you worked on my line. You’re going to need it.”

With a love song

The train ride was longer than she remembered. Alone on a train out of hell gives one a lot of time to wallow. 

She thought of Orpheus, with his million watt smile and gift for words.

She thought of Ophelia, who wouldn’t know who she was.

She thought of how she would lose them both, but was acting as the comfort Orpheus deserved.

She thought of him. 

With a tale of love from long ago

The train station was empty, as one would expect for winter. 

Empty except for a man in a silver suit, with a blanket over his arm and a solemn smile on his face. 

“Girl, come on lets get out of the cold.”

He half carried her home. Months of abuse of her own body- not caring for it, not eating, not sleeping- made standing hard and walking near impossible. She leaned heavily on him for support, the winter storm around them making things somehow worse.

She decided now, to voice her fear. “How bad is it, Hermes?”

When he remained steadfast and silent, she knew better than to press on. “He’ll be happy to see you.”

He brought her home. To the house she didn’t expect Orpheus to have. He unlocked the door for her, kissing her temple before stepping away. 

“He waited for you. For this moment.”

It’s a sad song.

She limped through the house, a draft from somewhere chilling to her bones. She caught a glimpse of her reflection- she looked more like bones and paper skin than herself nowadays. Eurydice wondered to herself, what Orpheus would think, when she heard the wheezy breathing in the back room.

With apprehension, she approached the door, swallowing to lubricate her brittle throat before trying. “Orpheus?” She called out, before she limped into the room and locked eyes with him.

But we keep singing even so.

“Eurydice?” The frame under the blankets whispered out, before the sound of crying filled the room. “Eurydice...god no...I’m so sorry Eurydice.” Orpheus was lanky before. But now? Now he was broken. Thin face, lost shine in his eyes. If she hadn’t known to look for it, she never would have seen the impossibly little bundle of blankets on his chest, far too small to house the fifteen month old baby she imagined in her dreams. 

“Orpheus, it’s me… why...why are you sorry?” Eurydice climbed into the bed, taking his face in her hands frantically. 

“You’re here. That means I’m dead doesn’t it? I failed you again. I took her to protect her, you wanted me to protect her, and I failed. I failed and i’m dead and she must be dead and-”

She grabbed his hand, and placed his palm against the center of his chest. “Orpheus, honey, i’m here. I’m alive and i’m here. He let me go- it’s not important right now. What matters is i’m right here, and you’re alive.” 

Unable to wait anymore she leaned down to kiss him, the contact of his lips igniting a fire in her that had long since gone out. “I’m here, and you aren’t leaving me. I just got back, you don’t get to go yet.” Eurydice pulled his upper body into her lap, and stroked his hair, draping Hermes’ blanket over him. “We’re going to be okay.”

It’s an old song

He cried into her thigh, words of love and endless apology. Of hopeful future and the life they would share. Before long she was beside him, head on his chest listening to the steady, albeit weak heart beat.

Alive. Alive. Alive. 

They could have forever, now, so long as they made it through this winter. She was sure of it. 

Her sweet, sweet husband. And their daughter. Ophelia. 

“I know she won’t remember but Orpheus can I-” He was too far sleeping, his arms wound around her so she couldn’t disappear. 

She decided for herself, to take the little blanket wrapped bundle from his chest.

And we’re gonna sing it again and again

It was like her heart restarted in that moment, when this tiny, whimpering little girl looked at her. The whimpering, she knew, was a sign of obvious pain in her daughter, and she knew then that she’d go to hadestown and back to end her pain for her.

For a moment it felt like forever and yet no time at all had passed since she held her. She wasn’t terribly bigger, which was concerning enough. 

It was like the world fell back into tune for Eurydice alone, when she got to look at this baby she would fight the world for. “Hey sunshine, I know you don’t know who I am, but i love you more than springtime.” She cooed, holding her against her chest. Ophelia’s fingers curled around the strap of her shirt, like they had so many times when she was a new infant still. Muscle memory, she supposed. 

“I’m afraid I don’t have anything in there to feed you this time. I’m sorry i’m not-” Hours topside and she already felt this rush of failure. Her baby, asking for something she couldn't give anymore. 

It was a moment she’ll never forget of course, when Ophelia relaxed with her head against her heart. When her baby stopped her whimpering because she had her mother. 

When her daughter, with what little strength she had, smiled at her and just breathes out “mama” into her skin. 

Of course, Orpheus would never let her forget.

It’s a long journey out of hadestown and it’s a long journey out of the dark. Eurydice knew though, in those moments, that they could make any journey together. The three of them.