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feliix · 4 years

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Perfect Score ↠ Han Jisung

↠ Jisung x Reader (feat. Felix)

↠ Genre: Fluff, Angst, Smut, Fake Dating!AU, Childhood Friends to Lovers

↠ Rating: M (18+)

↠ Word Count: 14.9k

↠ Summary: As you return home to work at your local coffee shop, you’re swarmed with couples coming in on lovey-dovey on dates. You’ve always hated the idea of love, but it’s Jisung’s mission to make you change your mind in just two weeks time.

↠ Warnings: idiots 2 lovers, mutual pining, unprotected sex, fingering, soft sex, language, light mentions of marking, mentions of bad past relationships

“That's disgusting.”

You grimace in the most subtle way as you watch the man across the shop press a gentle kiss on the cheek of the woman next to him. For some reason your shop is packed with couples this evening. Not that you’ve been counting, but they’re probably the 50th overly lovey-dovey pair that you’ve seen this just this shift alone.

To say ‘love’ isn’t really your thing isn’t too far from the truth. Every time you’ve been burned by someone in the past has only made your hope about love deteriorate. Relationships suck. Already been there, done that, and you don’t plan on doing it again.

You’ve always stuck by the same theory; relationships either lead to heartbreak or marriage. And even still, marriage may still end in heartbreak, so what’s the point?

“Stop being so dramatic,” Jisung laughs, pulling you out of your thoughts as he rounds the corner. He’s just in time to catch your snide remark, surely it won’t be the last one you’ll make tonight though. He had just run to the back to get you a fresh package of cups after using up all the stock in the front.

Tonight is busy to say the least. The sun has already set, and it’s the afternoon rush when everyone comes in for their second daily dose of caffeine. And it’s definitely necessary – especially on a day as hot and exhausting as this one. It’s the third day that its been over 100º in a row and the humidity is doing a real number to your hair.

“It’s not dramatic,” you sigh, leaning on the counter behind you as Jisung maneuvers around you, placing the cups on the shelf underneath. In your mind it absolutely isnt. Its a mystery why all these people need to publicly display their affection in a coffee shop anyway...

It’s just the two of you on the schedule tonight. Your boss has always been kind of an asshole, just leaving 2 kids in their early twenties to run the shop by themselves while he went off to do god knows what. There's always been an aching suspicion that he just goes to the bar across the street, since his car is still parked behind the shop but he’s always nowhere to be found. That’s okay though, it's better than him looming over your shoulder and criticizing your technique the whole shift.

“Yeah, whatever you say,” Jisung shakes his head.

In stark contrast to yourself, Han Jisung is quite the hopeless romantic. So much so that he tends to search for love in all the wrong places. Maybe a better way to describe it is that Jisung has a series of flings. He’s not shy to test the waters of any girl he comes across – and there are many, many waters that he’s tested. Lucky you gets to hear all about each one, being his friend and all.

But to your good friend’s demise, his ‘relationships’ never end up working out for very long. Theres always some kind of fatal flaw that’s a means to an end. Whether it was Jisung’s fault or the girls, it’s always confused you why he could never hold onto something longer than a couple months. Jisung is a great guy, it didn’t make sense.

So great that you have been best friends with him for as long as you could remember. It all started that time in pre-k, where you poured a shovel of sand on his head in the sandbox. Initially, it did make him cry, but he got over it eventually. Ever since, he’s been right by your side, sandy hair and all.

“How much longer,” your eyes roll back in your head, neglecting to look at the watch on your wrist in fear that your shift has a significant amount of time left. The night has been dragging on since you stepped foot in the door and heard the little jingle as it opened. You wouldn’t be surprised if you’d only made it through half your shift thus far.

“Just under an hour. Want to start the closing checklist so we can get outta here?” Jisung offers, reaching for the rag and sanitation bucket at the end of the counter.

Nodding your head, you follow his plan – beginning your mission to clean like a speed demon so you can leave no later than at 8 o’clock on the dot.

Luckily, closing tonight goes as smoothly as it possibly can. You and Jisung are ready to get out of there at 8 on the dot, thanks to your determination to mop like a mad woman and stock the front as fast as humanly possible.

The air outside feels crisper than usual. Maybe its because you’ve been locked up in a small room that smells like coffee beans for 10 hours, but you’ll never get enough of the night air.

“So what are we doing tonight?”Jisung asks, his fingers adjusting the headband that sits just above his forehead.

“I was planning on going home and getting some rest…” you trail off, avoiding eye contact with him. Jisung always goes out after your weekend shifts and never lets up on convincing you to tag along. So you can’t look at him, his eyes are much too convincing make contact with, and you are beyond exhausted from working a double today.

“Gah you’re so boring,” he teases, stopping in his tracks in the center of the parking lot to ruffle the hair on top of your head, “it was an early night we should do something.”

With a deep sigh, you stop as well, smoothing down your hair as a pout forms on your lips. The suggestive smirk settling across Jisung’s face is telling; he knows he’s about to get his way before you have the chance to turn him down or fish for another excuse. So you tilt your head, subtly rolling your eyes as you wait for him to explain what his big plans for tonight are.

“I’ll be at your house by 9.”

Accepting defeat, you shoot him a thumbs up before turning to get into your car. Asking any more questions would take away any time you had to wash up – and smelling like coffee beans any longer is going to drive you up a wall since it hasn't already.

It doesn’t take much time for you to rush home and get ready, and before you know it Jisung is there to pick you up. Only a few minutes late, but that’s just par for the course and right on time in Jisung terms.

The car ride to your destination feels like a blur with how exhausted you are. So when you end up at your favorite boba spot, you immediately perk up. Those tapioca pearls always manage to give you a second wind.

But when Jisung decides to take a seat at one of the round tables just outside the shop instead of getting back in the car you know somethings up. You were expecting to hop back in the passenger seat of his car, maybe listen to some music for a while and drive around to kill time.

Initially he doesn’t say much. His legs just bounce hyperactively while he fidgits with the straw of his drink. It’s almost like he’s waiting for you to speak up; his eyes staring down at the cup in front of him instead of sipping from it, lip caught between his teeth.

The energy is off. Not only did you expect to hang out and do something adventurous like Jisung normally would, but now you’re watching his cheeks grow red while avoiding conversation.

Awkward silence becoming too much to bear, you take matters into your own hands. “So how are things going with that girl?”

“Oh yeah,” he sighs, his fingertips drumming along the surface of the table, “she didn’t really work out.”

Unsurprised by his response, you just nod along. Its always to expect since he’s the pickiest person you’ve ever met. His last relationship ended because he thought the girl breathed too loudly. The girl before that had an annoying laugh, and then the one before that didn’t like cheesecake. There always seems to be a laundry list of deal-breakers tied along to each one of Jisung’s relationships, and that is something you’ll always expect.

“You’re probably better off.”

You don’t think much of the words before they leave your lips. Relationships are a ton of work, and you’ve never understood the point of to putting all your effort into something like that. There is a way to just be happy on your own, you know.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” his eyebrows furrowing in response, hands gripping his thighs in anticipation

“You know what I think,” you tilt your heat matter-of-factly, “relationships are kind of just a waste of time.”

“What is with you and all this ‘anti-love’ stuff anyway, Y/N?”

Now thats a response that you are not prepared for. The question catches you off guard, a boba bubble almost catching in your throat leaving you a coughing mess. Jisung chuckles at your discomfort, waiting patiently for you to get it all out and just answer his question, as uncomfortable as it is.

“I’ve wasted too much time with too many dead-beat guys to even think about love,” you sigh again, your coughing fit subsiding as you reach for your cup once again.

“Not every guy is a dead-beat.”

His words carry a harsh bite to them, almost as if he finds you’ve said offensive. It burns his ego a bit, assuming that you’re grouping him in with all the guys you’ve been with in the past. Which is strange, Jisung should know that he’s different. For one, you’ve never dated him before and two, if he was such a dead-beat you wouldn’t have kept him around for so long.

You aren’t able to talk to guys, or most people for that matter, in the same way that you talk to Jisung. He’s the one you rant about all the assholes to. He knows all the shit that you don’t tell anyone else, he’s like your own personal human diary. Secrets are always safe with him, it's not like he has anyone who would listen to the gossip even if he wanted to tell.

After a minute of silence his expression changes, Jisung’s eyes squinting at you in that ‘I have a crazy idea’ type of way. It’s a look that you haven’t seen very often, and you can’t say that you’ll ever get used to it.

“Okay then I’ll make you a deal,” he proposes, a glimmering look in his eye that made you somewhat nervous. You never know what you are getting with Jisung, but most of the time his ‘deals’ are on the crazier side.

“What is it?” You still ask although you’re a bit nervous to hear his answer. If his plan is to set you up with one of his delinquent friends or something–

“Be my girlfriend.”

Your eyes widen as the words fall from his tongue, confusion taking over your expression as a small chuckle slips past his lips. Instinctively your stomach tightens, the air around you now feeling a bit heaver each second time ticks on. He can't be serious…

“Your what?”

“Two weeks is all I’m asking for. Be my girlfriend for just two weeks, and I’ll show you that love isn’t as shitty as you think it is.”

“You’ve gotta be kidding me” you shake your head, a disbelieving smile stretching wide across your face.

“C’mon Y/N,” he challenges, “it’s two weeks of your life, what else do you have to do? I think it could be fun.”

The quirk of his eyebrow and quick squint of his eyes grabs your attention. He’s serious about this, scarily serious, and you aren’t quite sure how to react to that.

“What’s in it for you?” Your chin falls into your palm as you stare at him, waiting for his response.

“Well for one,” he starts, a sigh leaving his lips, “if it works then I won’t have to listen to you complain about how much relationships suck anymore.”

Just when you don't think you can roll your eyes any further into the back of your head, your own actions surprise you. If looks could kill, the one you’re giving him right now would surely take him out. He doesn’t pay much mind to it though, he’s used to your sass and just shrugs it off.

“This is an awful idea,” you glare at him as if it will change his mind. You’re certain this experiment of his would not change your own. Love sucked, and that was that.

“Two weeks,” his voice carries a taunting tone, his eyebrows wiggling to entice you into his plan. He isn’t going to give up on this easily, you know Jisung. And Jisung always gets his way.

“Fine,” you huff, “two weeks and that’s it. And if my mind isn’t changed you owe me 3 more of these,” you say, picking up your boba from the table and shaking it at eye-level for emphasis.

His bottom lip catches between his teeth, satisfied with your response. He isn’t exactly sure how he’ll manage to pull this off, but he’s definitely up for the challenge.

“We start tomorrow at 8, I’ll pick you up after work.”

Crossing your arms over the table, you bury your head in your arms. This is going to be the most interesting two weeks of your entire life.

“Wait, you're like dating dating the Han Jisung?” Felix’s jaw drops, excitement prevalent on his face as you spill about your night with Jisung.

Felix is the only person in your life that understood your hatred for relationships, other than Jisung of course. Not that he shares the hatred himself, he’s just heard enough about how much you despise being in one to know just how you felt. He’s only heard about it every day for the past several summers.

Felix is your best friend, other than Jisung of course. He’s also the only person in this world that you could bear to work with on a Saturday morning.

“That's the plan,” you sigh fiddling with the containers on the counter. It’s pretty slow for a Saturday morning, only a handful of customers have come in so far and it's already 11 am.

That’s the thing about working at a coffee shop – and it sucks when it's busy, and it sucks even more when it's slow. At least it isn't a terrible job, you at least have Jisung and Felix to keep you company and that's always worthwhile.

“And for the record,” you turn to look at Felix, a grin still evident on his face, “I don’t think this is gonna change my mind about the love stuff.”

“You know how Jisung is,” his eyebrow lifts, “so you never know. Maybe something could happen.”

If anyone was surprised that you were dating someone, fake relationship or not, it would be Felix. On top of that, you’re dating Han Jisung. As in, the same Jisung that ended a 3-month relationship last year because the girl ‘smelled too much like peaches’ and it was ‘too good to be true.’ And now that you’re the one stuck with him for the next 14 days, it is only a matter of time until he finds the deal-breaking trait that turns him away from you.

“Okay no, that's exactly why this is only two weeks. If I know Jisung, he’ll be over it before the 2 weeks even ends.”

“Whatever you say,” the pitch of his voice is raised teasingly. You can tell he doesn’t believe this will be just a ‘two-week thing’ by the funny little look on his face. You hate that look, and you hate how Felix always seems to be right.

Subsequently Felix sees a lot of things that you aren’t able to see for yourself. You’ve grown up with Jisung, grown accustomed to his unique mannerisms and behaviors without even noticing. Felix, on the other hand, has a different point of view.

He’s not in it like you are, so gets to see the way Jisung looks at you; the way he hangs on each and every word that leaves your mouth with a sparkle in his eye. He notices that Jisung longs to make you laugh. And he watches the toothy grin each that grows on your face each time a chuckle breaks through your lips. Felix notices every behavior that you see as nothing more than ‘friendly.’ But who is he to say? So, for now, the information remains tucked away and stored in his mind for a later date.

Your fingers drum on the clean marble countertop beside you, leaning against it as you wait for a customer to come in. All this time with nothing to do is really doing wonders for your imagination; thinking about what Jisung has planned for the two of you to do tonight. Nothing special, you hope, he really doesn’t need to go all out for this.

The lack of customers and silence that's fallen among the shop is just making it easier for your mind to wander off. It was beginning to make you sick how much you were thinking about Jisung and nothing has even happened yet. It's not like you have any reason to be nervous, but keeping all these thoughts trapped in your thick skull is starting to give you a headache

“He’s picking me up after work.” You blurt it out without thinking much about it. No one is here, you might as well lay it all out there for Felix to know since there's nothing better to do.

“He’s picking you up? Like you’re going on a date?”

“Shut upppp,” your eyes roll at his teasing nature, growing slightly embarrassed by how giddy the thought of this ‘date’ is making him, and you for that matter. It’s just Jisung. And you are just hanging out like you do every other night. There's nothing different about tonight and you’ll be able to prove that to yourself and Felix by the next time you see him.

The rest of you shift flies by – it always does when you work with Felix. Before you know it, the closing checklist is coming to an end, only a few steps left before you can finally get out of here. The clock had just turned to 7:55 pm, but Jisung still isn’t here. Not that you’re expecting him to be on time or anything, this is still the same Jisung you have always known.

What you aren’t familiar with is the nervous butterflies fluttering around in your tummy as the clock approaches 8 pm. What are you even nervous about? It isn’t a blind date, other than the fact that you have no idea what you’re doing. And it isn’t even a date. It’s Jisung for crying out loud.

Speaking of the devil, the chimes in the front of the shop ring as Jisung passes through the doorway. You don’t see who it is at first, your back turns to the door as you sweep behind the counter. The chimes ringing at this time of night do trigger your fight or flight instincts though, ready to turn to whoever is approaching and give them a dirty look for coming in this close to closing time.

But once you turn around and see Jisung standing in the doorway with a bouquet of sunflowers, your tension quickly subsides. You swear that you can feel your heart skip a beat, heat rising to your cheeks as you try your hardest to form a coherent sentence. It's okay that you aren’t able to, though, the surprised look on your face is enough for his smile to light up the room.

“I’m here to pick up the pretty girl with the espresso stain on her shirt,” he chuckles, his bottom lip catching between his teeth nervously.

Tonight he’s dressed a lot nicer than usual comfy attire; a nice shirt with a pair of dark jeans that hug his slim figure. His hair is a lot lighter too – a vast change from the midnight black strands that normally frame his face. He’s really going all out for this thing – and right now all that you’re wearing a pair of running shorts and a t-shirt with coffee stains down the front.

When you look to your right, Felix is just as stunned as you are. Frozen in his spot as his jaw practically sweeps the floor, he looks at you with wide eyes, his eyebrows raised as a smug expression crosses his face. For a second you contemplate asking him if he’s all set to finish the closing checklist on his own, but before you’re able to speak up he’s already shooing the two of you out the door.

With a goofy grin displayed across his face, Jisung hands you the bundle of flowers, tied together with a delicate white ribbon. You mumble a thank you, still stunned that he showed up here looking like that to take you out tonight. So he is the romantic type, note taken.

“You like nice,” you gulp nervously. It already feels like a date and you haven’t even left the parking lot yet. If this is how things are going to start you had an exciting 13 more days ahead of you...

“So do you,” he smirks, his eyes wandering down to the small brown stains littering your shirt. Eyes narrowing, you read the expression crossing his face – of course, he’s joking. “I brought you some fresh clothes to change into don’t worry.”

Relief rushes through your body as the words leave his lips, followed by a slight pull on your heart strings. Knowing he took the time to think about bringing you something else to wear so you didn’t have to sit in your coffee scented clothes all night made you feel warm in the strangest way. He’s thoughtful, and it's weirding you out – but in a good way.

“So, where are we even going?”

“You’ll see.”

A vague yet interesting, and very on-brand response from Jisung. He’s always been a fan of surprises – as long as he’s not on the receiving end.

The drive to your destination drags on forever. You aren’t quite sure how long you’ve been on your way; between your agile back seat changing of clothes, which you are surprisingly skilled at, and the anticipation coursing through your veins, you’ve lost track of time. All you know is that you’ve been driving along the backroads of your area for at least 15 minutes, and there is nothing around you to indicate that your destination is near.

“This is it.” The car pulls into a small dirt parking lot, dimly lit by some dingy street lights that aren’t doing a very good job at their primary function. It's pretty hard to see what’s around you, no matter how hard you squint and press your forehead to the window to get a better look.

“Where are we?” The question leaves your lips in a worried fashion. Trees surround the parking lot on all three-sides, while the road you've pulled in from occupies the fourth-side. You’re hesitant to get out of the car, but as Jisung rounds the front and opens the door for you, you’re on your way out. He motions for you to hold on as he pops the trunk – returning with a blanket and a reusable shopping bag filled with god knows what.

He still hasn’t given an answer to your question though, and you still aren’t quite sure where you are. If It was lighter out you assume it would be beautiful here, all the greenery dark and shadows hovering over you from the trees.

The bright light from his cell phone flashlight lights up the way, a path on your right

“Hell no,” your arms cross over your chest as you stand still in your place. He’s out of his mind if he thinks you’re going into the woods this late at night. You’ve seen enough horror films, stuff like this never ends well.

“C’mon, it’s not as bad as it looks,” Jisung laughs at your pouting manner, amusement filling his system as you glue your feet to the ground of the parking lot. His puppy dog eyes plead for you to follow him, a hand outreaching in your direction for the taking. You contemplate it for a moment, your eyes narrowing as you ponder the possible outcomes of the situation before you.

“Fine,” you huff as you take his hand in yours.

His hand feels different in yours this time. His long fingers lacing between your smaller ones in the perfect fit that you’ve neglected to notice before. You’ve held his hand before, platonically though. This time it’s platonic too though, right? It’s just a date. A platonic date between two friends. Two friends who are dating on a two week trial period. So yes, it is strictly platonic. Right?

The dirt path doesn’t drag on for too long, but the sounds of bugs ticking and twigs breaking beneath your feet is enough to startle you. Every scared and breathy gasp that leaves your mouth is followed by a small fit of laughter from Jisung. At least one of you is amused.

But the dirt path soon turns rocky, a clearing becoming more and more noticeable as Jisung’s flashlight brightens the way ahead of you. The rows of trees come to an end as the ground flattens, a giant slab of rock lying beneath your feet. Out ahead of you is completely dark, and until you approach the darkness you don’t notice that you’re just a few yards away from the edge of a cliff. A river lies below the edge, the sound of water rushing fills your ears and calms your nerves. It is quiet out here, peaceful and without distraction.

Jisung stands back as you admire the scenery around you – your own phone flashlight now out and panning around to look at the view. It’s beautiful out here, nothing to worry about but the sounds of the water and whatever Jisung is doing behind you…

You couldn’t have zoned out for more than 2 minutes, but once you turn back around to face him a picnic blanket lies on the ground before you. Snacks scatter the extent of the fabric, a few candles placed in the center

“You really went all out for this, huh?” A nervous laugh leaves your lips before you swallow harshly. Never in your life has a guy ever gone all out like this for you. A late-night picnic at a secret location, fixed with all of your favorite snacks and some candles for ambiance.

“Had to,” he smiles, “it’s our first date.”

You join him on the blanket, grabbing for a bag of popcorn as you sit down. Maybe relationships wouldn’t suck so much if all men treated you like this…

But it’s just Jisung. Jisung who already knows all your favorite things to eat. He’s just trying to be convincing – to prove to you that men take you on dates, do nice things. But stuff like this never lasts. Two weeks from now you’ll be going back to the same old Jisung and Y/N friendship that you’ve always had.

The conversation goes on as normal tonight, he doesn’t make any moves (as expected, it’s Jisung) and you enjoy the view and calm atmosphere with your fake but not so fake boyfriend. You stay out on the cliff for a few more hours before he takes you home. Jisung put a lot of effort into making tonight special, and you appreciate him for that. But even after all his effort, you know that real relationships aren’t like this.

Every guy you’ve dated would try to woo you over in the beginning too. They call it the honeymoon stage for a reason. Things are always great in the beginning, lavish gifts and dates, loving gestures. That kind of thing never lasts. Soon the effort runs out, the guy gets bored of putting the work in, and they end up sleeping with your freshman year roommate. Well, at least that's how it is for you.

The bundle of sunflowers Jisung gave to you earlier on in the night sits on the end table next to your bed. Each time you look at them all you can picture is the goofy grin he sported as he stood at the entrance of the coffee shop. It replays in your mind like a movie. How he dressed up all spiffy just to take you out. How he took you to a spot only he knew about, somewhere so off-site and serene that he knew you’d remain uninterrupted. You can’t help but wonder if he’s using the same old tricks on you that he does to other girls though. If he only knew about that place because he’s taken someone there before.

Not that it matters though, you aren’t his real girlfriend. You’re just on a trial period. But for some reason the thought that he might have brought another girl to the same spot before doesn’t sit well with you.

“Sooooo,” Felix teases, letting his chin fall into his palm as he leans on the counter before him, “how was your date with Y/N?”

Jisung chuckles at his nosiness, he’s sure you’ve already told Felix all about it. There are no secrets left between you two. Even sometimes Jisung felt like the odd man out when you’re all together.

“It was good.”

Jisung keeps his answer short, leaving the rest up to his imagination. He isn’t one to kiss and tell – or to not kiss and tell. Keeping his private life all to himself is something he takes pride in, things are just better that way.

“Just good?” Felix challenges, knowing there is much more that he’s leaving out. His eyes narrow as he waits for his response. You haven’t told him anything about last night, not even where you went after he picked you up. Things are radio silent on your end, which left Felix dying to know what actually happened on your ‘date that wasn't a real date.’

Jisung glances back at him, contemplating whether or not he should spill the beans. It would be kind of nice to have someone else to confide in. Especially since it's always you on the receiving end of his secrets; however, this may be the one secret that you don’t know of.

He chews on his bottom lip pensively, if anyone knows what’s on your mind, it would be Felix. Not that Jisung would ever want to pry, there's just no indication of how you feel about last night, or about him. Before Jisung can even open his mouth to speak, a knowing smirk is spread wide across Felix’s face. It’s that kind of look that makes him nervous – he knows something.

“You like her don’t you,” he muses, rubbing his hands together smooths as the words catch in the air. It’s out there now – and it’s obvious. Well, maybe not obvious, but it's clear as day to Felix – and that is more than enough to make Jisung worry.

“I don’t,” Jisung denies the other boy’s claim, his willpower too strong to give in.

“Oh yeah? So why do you self sabotage every one of your relationships then?”

The words catch Jisung off guard; his jaw clenching harshly as an annoyed breath is forced out of his nostrils. He wants to deny the claim once again, but he can’t bring himself to keep brushing off these feelings that have had a grip on him ever since he was young.

Felix is right too. He does sabotage each relationship that comes his way. Jisung goes out of his way to find something wrong with each girl he dates. He can never admit it to himself, but in the back of his mind, he knows that it's the fact that none of those girls are you. None of the girls he’s ever met could ever match up to all that you are. In his mind, you held the perfect score, and no one else had ever come close.

“It’s written all over your face every time you look at her you know.”

There's no way he’s that obvious... Did his feelings show that much whenever he was around you?

“What do you mean?” Jisung clarifies, the small once of hope bearing weight in his chest that Felix will follow up with a ‘just kidding’ or change the subject. Only the silence that falls on the room is enough of a response for Jisung to get the clue.

“Just please don’t tell her,” he avoids eye contact with the other boy, hand gripping harshly on the countertop as he stares down at the black and white checkered tile. “I just wanted to see if I could change her mind – about the love stuff, you know?”

The second you find out about Jisung’s feelings all bets would be off. There’s no way you’d let your little arrangement continue, not if either of you could end up hurt. And he knows you only agreed to this because there is nothing between you romantically, it was a deal between two friends. The second feelings get involved, everything gets all mushy and confusing, and Jisung can’t lose you.

Felix bears his weight on the counter behind him, leaning comfortably on the cool glass. “Believe me, I want her to be done with that ‘I hate love thing’ just as much as you do,” he sighs, looking around momentarily before he clears his throat. “Want me to be honest?”

“Please.”

“I think you might be the only one who can change her mind.”

Jisung’s heart skips a beat once the words leave Felix’s mouth. Blood rushes to his ears, pumping like a snare drum as he considers his thoughts. His stomach begins to twist as he considers it, almost confused about what Felix means, but not willing to accept it. You only agreed to fake-date him, you still hate love.

A comfortable silence fills the air, Felix watching him as his lips roll between his teeth, deep in thought. Change your mind. The words repeat in Jisungs head like a broken record. That’s what he’s trying to do, all for the right reasons of course. So that you don’t have to be so miserable about it anymore.

But behind those selfless reasons are several smaller, selfish ones. He gets to be with you as more than a friend now, and although it’s nothing more than some kind of test run, he can’t help but feel like this can be something more too. It’d be crazy to ignore the feeling he has deep in his chest, and maybe it's a sign not to.

“Like you think…” Jisung gulps, clearing his throat as the words stutter out of his mouth, “I could get her to fall for me?”

The lack of response that Felix gives is ominous, but the raise of his eyebrows and toothy grin forming on his face needs no words to tell.

If anyone is to change your mind, it’ll be Jisung.

That night Jisung took you to the drive-in movies. To be quite honest, you couldn’t really recall what was playing, some Pixar film with bugs as the main character if you could remember it correctly. You were far too distracted laughing with Jisung, watching as young kids played around on a grassy patch near his car. The giggles that left his lips each time the little girl waved to him were music to your ears. You never noticed how much he loved kids, how good he was with them.

The image of his hands clasped together as he fawned over the little girl, picking dandelions in the grass and racing to place them by your feet was burned into your memory. The boxy grin that graced his face all night long. The way his eyes squinted from his cheeks, pushing up as he smiled so big. The whispers of the word ‘cute’ each time her pigtails bounced while she toddled away.

Missing the movie doesn't disappoint you. If anything, the memories you've saved from tonight are more than enough.

The next night you were unable to go out, the shop was so busy that you were not able to leave until an hour and a half after your shift was supposed to end. Some punk kid dropped a cup of iced coffee on the floor on his way out and decided it would be best to leave it there without cleaning anything up or letting you know. Maybe if it hadn’t been so busy then you would have noticed the spill before it dried up and there were coffee stains stuck to the tile floors.

Naturally, you spent a good 15 minutes trying to mop up all the stickiness on the floor. But to your luck, Jisung is working with you that night. Once all the customers left the shop he hooked his phone up to the speakers, grabbed your hands, and danced you around the shop. Well, it was supposed to be dancing but it probably looked more like Jisung swinging your arms as you attempted to not trip over your own feet.

It makes up for not getting to go out though, and you’d take a night like that over a fancy dinner any chance you got.

It’s been 12 days since you became Jisung‘s girlfriend, and as the remaining days decreased, so did your hatred for love. Each night he planned something special. The real kicker was the texts that you get once he makes it home from dropping you off every night. A simple ‘I had a great time tonight’ was enough to make your heart swell and heat rise to your cheeks.

And as you notice your hatred for love and relationships leaving you, you notice another feeling enter your system. Or several feelings…

Things are getting just as sticky as the night when two frappuccinos splattered all over the shop floor, whipped cream and all. Spending time with Jisung like this is bringing some things to the surface you didn’t know were buried in the first place.

Every night that you spent with Jisung over the past 12 days allowed you to see him in a new light. You got to see him on a different level than just friends. You got to see what every girl that fawns over Jisung experiences.

Something about your friendship never let you jump past that barrier. You only see him as a dear friend of yours. Nothing more and nothing less. And now the issue is that...you aren’t sure how you’ll ever go back to see him as such.

You like Jisung as more than a friend, that's for sure. And you know because of that things will never be able to go back to the way they once were.

Maybe you're reading too much into it, but your gut is telling you that you aren't the only one feeling this way.

The feeling of butterflies that pound in your stomach each time you meet eyes with him has to be reciprocated. There is just no way you can be feeling this way and he isn’t.

This isn’t like the feelings you’ve caught for any guy before, this is something else. Every night when you go home you lay in bed, staring at your ceiling with a dumb grin on your face as you think about your time together, about him. About the way his black curly hair falls in front of his eyes each time he looks down and how his smile lights up every room he was in.

These things that you were so blind to before can’t escape your thoughts, and it makes you wonder how many times or things you’ve looked over that make you melt, just like you are right now.

But in just 2 days, this trial-boyfriend period will be over, and you’ll have to go back to being just friends. Each day, each hour, each minute that approaches feels heavier and heavier. Anxiety floods your system each time you think about things being over, or that this arrangement you have isn’t even real.

When you think about the growing feelings you have for him, you honestly can't imagine what your life will be like any other way. What it would be like going back to just hanging out here and there. And what it would be like

You can’t even fathom thinking about what it would be like hearing him talk about another girl again. It makes you sick thinking that there's going to be someone after you, because in just 5 days this will be all over, and you’ll go back to being the girl best friend, nothing more.

Maybe it’s just wishful thinking that Jisung has more feelings for you too. But the glimmer in his eyes as his bangs brush out of his eyes and they land on you tells a different story. When he looks at you it feels like you are the only two people on earth. He sees nothing else but you, and the way your eyes sparkle back at him.

Each day you spend with Jisung after that feels like a wrench tightening the screws of your heart. 14 days is just not enough.

“Earth to Y/N,” Felix says waving a hand in your face.

You must have zoned out, for god knows how long.

“Thinking about Jisung?”

“What?” you immediately straighten your posture and brush yourself off before responding, “N-no…I’m just thinking.”

“Right,” the sarcasm drips from his lips, not sparing you any time to save yourself as he turns away, beginning to wipe off the tables in the front.

For personal reasons, you’ve kept Felix out of the loop during this whole “fake-boyfriend Jisung” thing. It’s better if you keep your feelings to yourself until you figure them out. And although it feels really really strange not giving Felix the intel on what’s going on in your life, you know it’s for your own good.

Once you put what is in your head out into the world, you can’t take it back. And what if all these things that you’re feeling is just a part of the honeymoon-phase. If that even existed anyway… But if all these feelings for Jisung are due to him trying to woo you and change your mind, everything will just fade away as things return back to normal. And then you’ll be left loving him in silence while you watch him blow through relationships like a leaf blows through the wind.

Something in you tells you that this isn't the case, but the small shadow of doubt in the back of your mind keeps you from talking to your best friend about it anyway.

The thing is, you don't have to tell Felix for him to know. Every time Jisung picks you up from work to take you out you shine. Your smile spreads so wide he’s afraid your cheeks will tear. The nervous shake of your fingers as you grab for your belongings as you head out the door doesn’t go unnoticed in Felix’s eyes. He knows you too well to look over things like this, he just wanted to wait for you to say something first.

But now that you aren’t, Felix has decided to take matters into his own hands, asking you about it himself.

“Felix,” you start, waiting for his attention before you pull out a stool, sitting down and motioning for him to follow suit. Quickly he does, a questioning but knowing look evident on his face as the stool squeaks under him. “You know how this thing between Jisung and I is just an experiment or whatever?”

He nods in response, his hand quickly falling into his palm as he listens intently to your words.

“I think I messed up.” Your head is buried in your arms, laid over the tabletop in embarrassment.

“What do you mean?”

His question is more for clarification, he wants to hear you say it yourself. Felix knows that you’re gonna tell him that you’ve already caught feelings. He sees it coming from a mile away, you confirming it is just the icing on the cake.

“Don’t make me say it,” you whine, neglecting to pick your head up and look at him. You can feel the grin on his face. You know he's smirking at you right now, doing his best to hold back a laugh. Finally, you over the ‘I hate love and relationships suck’ thing.

“I have no clue what you’re talking about,” he sings, quite obviously teasing you while another deep sigh echoes from your chest. You manage to pick your head up, leaning onto your elbows with your chin caught between your palms as you face him.

“I like him.”

It comes out as a whisper, but Felix hears it loud and clear. If you didn’t know better, you’d assume that the smile on his face can't grow any larger, but it does. He jumps up from his chair in victory, doing a funny dance with his arms whooping in the air to celebrate. You’re confused as to why, but you’re too far in your own thoughts to pay it any mind; your head just sinks back into your arms as your forehead presses against the cold metal table beneath you.

“I knew it,” Felix smiles, his happy dance subsiding as he positions himself back down across from you. “I knew this fake dating thing was gonna work.

“Yeah well it really worked, because now I have feelings for a guy that’s never gonna reciprocate them for me.” Your tone is laced with sarcasm, a disappointing ring sounding off on each of your words. You’re too embarrassed to look at the boy sitting before you, worried that if you do all the emotions you’ve been holding onto for so long will spill over and stain your stone-cold image; one you’ve maintained for far too long.

But Felix is your best friend. The only one that you should be comfortable being vulnerable about your feelings for Jisung with; for some reason all you can’t bring yourself to be. Before you can get a grip on your emotions tears are streaming down your face and falling onto the cold metal surface under you in small puddles.

A sympathetic sigh leaves Felix’s lips as he tries to gain your attention, “Hey.”

Inhaling deeply, you face him – mascara strewn across your face in black streaks and eyes nearly bloodshot. You’ve held this in for far too long. Only a double would tire you out and exhaust you enough to cry on the clock. Thank god it’s a rainy day, no customers ever come in on rainy days.

Or at least, no customers usually come in on rainy days. It's not until you hear the bells on the front door ring that you’re wiping your eyes, whipping around to greet whoever was entering.

And then you see him, standing there as he shakes out his umbrella, a bouquet of sunflowers in his hand.

And he sees you; mascara running down your face and tears staining your cheeks. He’s early. Your stomach turns at the sight of him, emotions not stable enough to handle carry a normal conversation like

“Y/N,” his voice is quiet, worry dripping in his tone as your name leaves his lips. But you can’t face him right now, not like this.

Your feet move faster than you mind, standing up and rushing to the back to avoid him. Jisung doesn’t follow you, just stands there and watches you walk away, solemn and worried that he’s done something.

It’s not until Felix is rising from his seat and pacing over to him that he’s brought back to reality.

“Jisung...” he starts, hands coming up slowly to console him, “I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to be here right now.”

“Wh-what’s wrong?” His lip worries between his teeth, eyes glossy as he stares at the door you just closed behind you. He’s looking at it intently, mind flooding with worry, wishing so badly that the door will just fly open, and you’ll tell him what was going on. In the back of his mind, he knows that you won’t, at least not for now. Talking about emotions has never been your strong suit, and chances of that changing at this moment are at an all-time low.

Felix is unsure how to answer him, caught in between not wanting to lie and keeping your feelings private. He can’t speak for you; but he’s scared that saying nothing could just make this whole situation worse.

His mouth gapes as he searches for a response to his question, lips opening and closing while he hums to himself.

The umbrella hanging from Jisung’s hand drops with a crash, starling Felix as he jumps at the sudden sound. But before he is even able to speak, the bell to the front door is ringing again, and Jisung is walking away into the pouring rain.

The next day you wake up feeling numb. You’ve received several texts from Jisung the night before, none of which you have the energy to reply to or even look at for that matter.

The guilt riddling your body has become too much for you to handle. You left work last night without even saying goodbye to Felix. He’s a good enough friend and coworker to know that what you’re going through is more important than working the counter at an coffee shop.

After Jisung left, Felix came back and let you know; he almost had to break down the door to the backroom in order for you to let him in. He told you to go home, get some rest and that you’d talk tomorrow.

But after waking up the last thing you want to do is talk about Jisung, it hurts enough just thinking about him.

Every time you thought about how your arrangement was supposed to end in just a few days you felt sick. You have worked so hard to open up just to build your walls back up again. And now you’re back at square one.

When you agreed to be Jisung’s girlfriend you did not expect to fall for him like this. He’s Jisung for god’s sake. He’s your personal diary, he’s the one who knows all the shit that nobody else does. And he’s the only one that listens to all the dumb shit you have to say that no one else cares about.

Feelings ruin everything. Love sucks, and you knew this before you agreed. You agreed under the circumstances that Jisung could show you that relationships could be fun; not under the circumstances that he would make you fall in love with him,

And the more that you think about it, maybe you were always in love with him. Maybe you always had these feelings for him, but they were trapped in the tight bonds of friendship that your subconscious never let you out.

But none of that even mattered now. The deal had to be off, and you need to distance yourself from Jisung before you are hurt any worse. The longer this goes on the worse that you are going to feel when it's all over.

How are you supposed to go back to normal after this? Like is Jisung thinking that showing you how amazing relationships are, you won't fall for him or something? Or does his true plan consist of making you fall in love with him, just to string you along like every other girl he's dated?

You’re trapped in the never-ending spiraling thoughts, soiling your image of Jisung with each new theory that crosses your mind. None of them are good. All of them paint him as a player, as someone who just used you.

But the little thump in your heart when you notice the sunflowers placed on your bedside table wants your mind to change. Your heart wants you to believe that Jisung feels something too, that throughout this arrangement he has seen a different side to you too – that he’s fallen for you just like you have for him.

It's a knock at your door that guides you out of your thoughts. The repetitive tapping at your front door that drags you out of bed. And when you check your peephole and it's no one else, but your small blonde best friend standing on your doorstep that has relief rushing through your system.

The door cracks open, Felix standing there with an umbrella in his hand – even though it was nearly 100º with clear skies.

“Why are you still in your pajamas? It's noon.”

Suddenly, he pushes past you and invites himself into to your living room. Plopping down on your couch, Felix makes himself comfortable as he waits for you to join. You spin on your heels, an exhausted breath leaving your mouth as you pace over to him, plopping down on the next cushion over.

“Why the umbrella?” Your brow furrows as he hands it over. You take it though, still confused behind the meaning of the object that you're holding and where it came from.

“It’s Jisung’s.”

You nearly drop it as his name leaves his lips. The name causes your stomach to tighten, mouth-drying instantly as emotions well behind your eyes.

“Why?” Is all you can mutter out. Why was he giving it to you, why is he here, and why did he have it?

“You need to bring it back to him.” He says sternly, his eyes locked on you as he waits for you to look back at him. But you’re too focused on the umbrella placed gently in your hands, tracing your finger over every wire and the soft rubber handle.

“I can’t.” Your words come out in a whisper, breath light and airy as you sigh, sinking your body back into the couch cushions. Giving the umbrella back to Jisung will mean that you have to go see him. And if you see him, he’s going to want to talk to you about last night, then question you about why you haven’t been returning his texts. No. You will not be giving Jisung his umbrella back.

“Y/N,” your name leaves his mouth gently, a sigh following it before he reaches for you, rubbing your arm comfortingly before continuing, “I think you need to talk to him.”

“Felix you know I can’t do that.”

You’re serious in your words. Not that you don’t want to talk to Jisung. You most definitely want to – and if you could, you would. But you can’t. There are too many emotions involved. The wound is fresh and seeing him would be rubbing salt right into it.

“Y/N,” he sighs, this time more forceful, like he’s trying to get something across to you but it's going right over your head. “Talk to him. Please.”

“You know I’m going to end up hurt if I do.” Tears well in your eyes as the words croak from your throat. It's dry and scratchy, full of fear and anxiety.

“I think you’d be surprised,” he mumbles, his eyes instantly widening on realizing the words that just escaped. Eyes wide with confusion, you’re begging him to go on, but if he does then Jisung won’t be the only one in deep shit right now. It's not up to Felix to tell you what he knows this time.

“What do you mean I’ll be surprised?”

“I have to go,” he stands instantly, motioning to the umbrella, “and you need to bring this back.”

With a slight ruffle to your hair, Felix is giving you a supporting smile and waving goodbye. And you’re left alone once again – just you and Jisung’s blue umbrella.

It takes a lot of courage to get ready today. You make sure to take your sweet time rummaging through your closet, flipping through articles of clothing for the better half of an hour. At the end, you opt to go with a pair of sweatpants and an old t-shirt. There isn't enough energy in your body to put on anything else, and you know you’ll just want to curl back up in bed once you get home. Sweatpants are safe, and safe is just what you need.

No makeup today either. If things are anything like you’re expecting, your makeup will just end up ruined anyway. It's your better judgment to shower though, you’ve neglected to take one after work last night; opting to just bury yourself under your covers as soon as you got back. But today is a new day. And with a fresh shower and your comfiest pair of sweatpants, you are about as ready as you’ll ever be to get your heart broken into a billion pieces.

Umbrella in hand, you step out onto your front steps, relishing in your last few moments of ignorant bliss before making your way to Jisung’s. You immediately regret your wardrobe decision as the sun beats down on your frame, the humidity making you feel sticky and gross – your favorite pants are no match for this heat.

But you’re on your way to your destination anyway, the drive feeling longer and more drawn out than normal. Jisung didn’t live that far away from you, but the ride there still felt like an eternity with each theoretical scenario passing your mind.

Dragging your feet, you make your way to the front steps of his house. You’ve been here a million times, but today is different. From now on, every time you drive past this place all you’ll know is heartache.

You brush yourself off, taking a deep breath before bringing your hand up and pushing the doorbell. The sudden ringing sound startles you, even though you have every indication that it’s coming – you’re just too nervous and jumpy for your own good.

Footsteps approach the door, your stomach tightening more and more with the muffled pitter-patter of footsteps. You’re praying to God that it’s his mom, hoping that Jisung just so happens to be out – even though his car is in plain sight parked just a few meters away from you. Wishful thinking, you suppose.

When the door to his house opens, you struggle to maintain your composure. He’s dressed similarly to you; a pair of sweats and an old sports t-shirt that has definitely seen better days.

“Hi.”

His eyes are sunken in, dark circles dragging underneath his eyes and his lips pulled downwards. He looks like a sad puppy, his dark hair all scruffy and sticking up in each direction – probably from him running his hands through it so many times.

“I came to give you this,” you extend the umbrella out before you. He nods before taking hold of it, his hand far at the opposite end making sure not to keep his distance. The more you look at him, the more sorry you feel for dodging his texts. He looks like he hasn’t slept a wink, and you’re afraid it’s all because of you.

“Oh...uh, thanks,” he struggles to make eye contact with you, looking down at the object in his hand.

It’s awkward, uncomfortable, and you can’t seem to find the words to say to break this strange tension between the two of you. He’s acting weird, shifting his weight back and forth but not moving away to close the door. His mind is racing once again – contemplating whether or not to just invite you in or leave it at that.

But with every aching bone in his body, he musters up the courage to lift his head, looking you directly in the eyes. Their dark like his, definitely from the lack of sleep you had the night before. Your mouth is turned downward too; hands fiddling together to try and distract yourself.

“D-Do you wanna come in?” He stutters, stepping aside slowly as he gestures towards his house. He suddenly worries when you don’t respond right away, taking a second to contemplate if this is a good idea or not. Ripping off the band-aid is never easy, but it needs to be done.

“Sure,” is the word that you decide on – hoping that it doesn’t make you seem disinterested or too desperate to talk. Maybe he’s just being kind though. Maybe it’s an empty offer, something that you say when you’re trying to be nice, but subconsciously hope that they won’t take you up on it. Like when you offer to share your food with someone, but you’re really hungry. You do it to be nice, not because you actually want to split the delicious looking burger and fries on your plate.

He leads you inside and to his bedroom. It looks the same as always, but it feels different. It still smells like him though, the comforting woodsy scent of pine and mahogany that he always reaches for. But that comforting scent is anything but comfortable. You’re frozen in place, unsure if you should sit on his bed and make yourself at home, much like every other time in the past. For now you just stand in the doorframe, waiting for him to tell you to take a seat, just like any polite guest would. A guest. You have never felt like a guest in his home before, or around Jisung in general. But that imaginary wall between the two of you is standing tall and sturdy, and suddenly the two of you are reverted back to being strangers.

You watch as he toys with something on his desk, his fingers dancing from object to object and sifting through papers to look busy. The point of it – unknown to you but to him, he’s buying time. Trying to think of the first thing to say, what to ask, or if you even wanted to talk. Maybe you only agreed to come inside to be nice. Maybe you were too worried about hurting his feelings if you said no. But alas, here you are, standing awkwardly in his doorway as he shuffles around his room, his brain flooding with thoughts – but his mouth can not form them into audible words.

“I’m sorry for ignoring your texts.”

Your voice catches his attention, dropping whatever paper he’s looking at now and turning his gaze to you. You’re sunken into yourself, your chest thumping with anxiety as his eyes begin to wander your frame. Not in a ‘I’m checking you out’ manner though; more of a ‘you look so sad and I don’t know what to say to you right now’ kind of way.

It’s true though, he doesn’t know what to say – which is why he’s staring at you, hoping the right words would just pop up and he didn’t have to use any brain-power at all. He doesn’t want to say ‘it's okay,’ because it's not. You never ignore his texts, and that alone tells him enough about what's going on. You are upset at him.

“What did I do wrong, Y/N?”

His words sound accusatory but his tone is soft, gentle and full of worry. Eyes swollen and looking like they are about to fill to the brim with tears, his sight is focused on you; now not able to look away.

“I-I don’t know…”

Your answer is honest. You don’t know if his intentions are dirty. Yeah, that’s what you thought initially, but looking at him with such hurt written all over his face tells a different story.

Jisung is silent, unsure of what more he can do or say to make you talk to him. He can’t force you to open up, he never has and he never will – that’s always been his rule. Everything you’ve shared with him has been on your own terms and conditions. Jisung has always been here to be your listening ear, but he never prys.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

His voice is soft, eyes full of sympathy as he holds himself together. Those were the words he has been looking for. Now the ball is in your court and you’ll have to be the one leading the conversation. It’s just what he needed to figure this shit out.

“I-I don’t know.”

“Y/N,” he sighs as he drops himself down onto the mattress, “I shouldn’t have to say this for you to know it, but you know you can talk to me about anything, right?”

You do know that. You really, really do. But this time things are different. Is he expecting you to just come out and speak your truth like there won’t be consequences? No, he won’t push you to tell him anything you don’t want to. But the worry in his eyes and clammy hands are begging for you to just let it out so he can stop being in the dark.

You sigh out an ‘okay’ before sitting down beside him.

Rip the band-aid off Y/N. Quick and painless.

His eyes narrow, almost to a squint, staring right through you in hopes of reading your thoughts. Your expression is nothing but blank as you try your best to gain some sort of composure. Do you just speak up and spill your guts? The words replay in your mind over and over until your thoughts are beat down and misshapen.

You can picture his face when you say it; disgusted with a trace of disappointment and some confusion spread into the mix. Or maybe he’ll laugh at how pathetic you were, catching feelings for your fake boyfriend.

That’s it. There’s no way you can tell him. It would be much easier to just get up and leave. Tell him to pretend like none of this ever happened and that you needed some time to cool off. A few months maybe, or maybe you could just ghost him entirely.

“Y/N?”

The sound of his voice breaks you out of your toxic thoughts, and his chocolate brown eyes bring you back down to earth. You can’t just leave him in the dust. He’s looking at you like you’re the only thing that exists. Things will be okay, right?

“Sorry, sorry,” you exhale deeply as you calm your thoughts; shifting the nasty scenarios out and accepting that whatever happens after this conversation is your fate.

“Jisung, I-I guess I wasn’t expecting this boyfriend-girlfriend thing we’re doing to go like this.”

His brow quirks at your words, confusion riddling his expression as his eyes narrow. With a tilt of his head, he’s pushing you to continue, visibly riddled with your choice of words.

“Swear you’ll be honest when I ask you this?” You question him, your hand moving closer to his as you lean in slightly. He’s like a magnet, you can’t help yourself from moving closer; even though the proximity of the two of you is clouding your thoughts and you can feel your heart beginning to swell.

He nods in response to your question, his eyes full of concern as he waits for you to continue, “Why did you ask me to do this thing?”

He knows that a question like this was coming, only if he could have prepared for it. But he didn’t, so his throat is left dry and scratchy as his mouth opens, only to stutter a bit before closing it back up. No coherent thoughts or words are able to escape his lips, just nonsense mumbling that caught himself off guard.

With a deep breath, he closes his eyes, regaining his composure before he can face you again. He agreed to be honest, and if honesty is what you want, honesty is that you’ll get.

“I’m sorry.” That’s all that he can say.

Oh no. This is exactly what you were expecting before you came here. He’s gonna tell you that he didn’t mean to mess with your emotions, that he felt you catching feelings and got carried away. That he’s sorry that he ruined your friendship and played you like a violin all at once.

“Me too.”

You don’t know why you’re apologizing, but you are. It feels wrong. Absolutely utterly, and undoubtedly wrong. Apologizing for your own feelings is not something that you are okay with. Especially when he made you fall for him like this. Okay so maybe thinking that is giving him too much power, but who the hell takes you out on dates for nearly 2 weeks straight just to laugh about it later. How can he expect you to not catch feelings for him? With his deep voice and fluffy hair that always hangs in front of his eyes, that little giggle he has when he finds something amusing. Everything about him was attractive. And you’ve fallen for it all. Hard.

“Wait, why are you sorry?”

A scoff escapes your mouth unintentionally, but it’s well deserved. “For being the idiot to fall for a guy that was playing her, I guess.”

You can’t look at him any longer, so your eyes fall to your lap, staring at your chipped nail polish and dirty fingernails instead of reading whatever dumb expression he has now. But if you just took a second to look up, you’d notice the widening of his eyes, how his fingers are beginning to shake and his mouth gape.

“Wh-What?”

“Don’t make me say it again Jisung, I don’t feel like sounding stupid one more time.”

“No no I heard you, it's just,” his eyes slam shut, angry at himself that he let things get this far without keeping you in the loop.

You’ve been telling him that you hate love for years now. After hearing it so many times, he’d just given up on the thought of you. Maybe if he said something before you went through all those shitty guys things could have been different. But he’s let this go on for far too long, and now you’re the one that was paying the price.

“Y/N I have feelings for you.”

Your neck nearly breaks with how fast your head snaps up. He’s the one looking away now, his cheeks a bit rosy as he tries to hide himself. He isn’t doing a very good job though, his hair is only shadowing his eyes and you can clearly see the way he’s nervously chewing on his lip; a cute habit you have grown fond of these past couple of weeks.

If he didn’t look like he does right now, you’d assume he was messing around. But you know Jisung. You know his small little gestures and what they mean by now. You know when he’s being serious and when he’s telling a lie. He can look someone dead in the eye and lie to them, but when he tells the truth, he becomes shy and worried that he’s said the wrong thing.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” You ask softly, gently reaching for his hand. The subtle contact makes him flinch, reacting by pulling your hand away. But his eyes meet your sympathetic ones, sparkling just like they always do, and he knows what he wants.

Jisung’s hand reaches back for yours, lacing his fingers through yours before giving your hand a light squeeze. “You hate relationships,” he chuckles lightly, the mood of the room instantly shifting as the laughter leaves his lips.

“I hated the ones that weren’t with you,” you correct him, but your voice comes across as just a whisper. He’s close enough to hear though, a blushing grin forming on his face as you shyly look away. His heart flutters when he hears it, a million butterflies erupting in his tummy all at once.

“I hated the ones that weren’t with you too,” he coos, his eyes wide and sparkling as he looks at you with such adoration.

Time moves in slow motion as his hand meets your cheek, your eyes look deeply into his chocolate ones as he moves in closer. As your eyelids flutter shut his tongue runs across his bottom lip, wetting the surface before closing the distance between you. Finally.

And in that moment you’re at peace. Everything you thought you’ve ever hated, love, relationships, and maybe Jisung for a hot second, are the only things that you long for. The 14 days don’t have to be over, and your days no longer have to be counted. When you’re with Jisung you’re happy, you’re comfortable, and you're confident that he can give you what you have always deserved – but have never gotten.

His lips move against yours in slow, languid motions, his large hands holding you close like he’s holding on for dear life. But you won’t leave even if you want to, not now, not after all this.

Slowly, Jisung shifts his weight and you move in succession. He’s laying you down on his bed, gently climbing over you without breaking the kiss. Things are becoming more heated now, you can feel it as his hungry lips devour your own. Your chest heaves up to meet his, your back arching off the mattress as his hands begin to scour your body. The heat pooling in between your legs is growing, an aching sensation overwhelming your core as your own hands reach up to rake through his long, fluffy hair. And you can tell he wants you too, the thin fabric of his sweatpants doing little to conceal the growing erection pressing against your thigh.

You can’t help but let out a steep moan as his hips begin to grind into yours. Needy groans fall past his lips and onto yours as you roll your hips upwards to meet his small ruts.

In a leisurely motion, Jisung’s body is moving upwards, his knee finding a place between your legs as he brings himself up to a kneeling position. You chase his lips the entire way there, sitting up straight to be sure the contact doesn’t vanish, too consumed by your need for him to leave his lips.

And then his needy hands are running along the waistband of your sweats, fiddling with the tie before breaking your heated kiss. “Is this okay?” His words come out in a whisper, his eyes searching yours for any signs of doubt, but all he sees is lust.

“Yes,” you confirm, out of breath from making-out for so long without coming up for air. The lightheaded feeling taking over you goes unnoticed though, and quite frankly you’re too caught up in Jisung to care.

Quickly, he rids you of your pants, looking back up at you for confirmation about your underwear. With an affirmative nod he’s removing those too, leaving you completely bare from the waist down as he stands over you fully clothed.

But soon he’s ridding himself of his own clothing, his shirt being pulled at the nape of his neck as he discards it across the room. He’s leaning back down to you, hungry for the feeling of your lips. He misses it, even though it's been less than a minute since he’s last felt your smooth lips on his.

You won’t open your eyes to see, but with the shuffling movements and shaky connection between your mouths you can tell Jisung is stripping himself of any remaining clothing he has on. He’s needy, unable to wait any longer to get down to business, he’s already waited long enough.

You’re the one who breaks the kiss this time, too curious to see what he’s sporting down below for your own good. But you are not disappointed once you see it – he’s long and girthy; the pigment a shade or two darker from his skin tone than the rest of his body. Your thoughts are wandering, wondering what it's like to have him inside of you; dreaming about what he feels like. Arousal pools at your core, mouth salivating as your daydreams linger.

“Like what you see?” Jisung chuckles. You barely notice that you’ve been staring, eyes wide and focused on the hardened dick before you, which is probably a bit uncomfortable for him.

“Sorry!” You cringe at yourself lightly, covering your eyes in embarrassment in fear that you just ruined the mood you’ve worked too hard to create.

“Don’t apologise,” he smiles as he grabs your wrists, moving them away from your round eyes. Scrunching your nose in displeasure, you catch your lip in between your teeth, mentally face palming at how weird you’re being.

He couldn’t blame you though, it was taking everything in him not to gawk at you. It was the first time you’ve seen eachother naked. Bathing suits did little for your imagination, not that you had even thought about Jisung this way before.

But he eases your nerves by coming down face level with you, reaching for your shirt and pulling it up over your head. You look at him with wide eyes, taking in each part of him as he caresses your body gently. He’s in awe of you like this. So relieved that you’re finally his, that he has you like this.

Nimble fingers dance down your body, landing at your core as he runs one up your slit, collecting your arousal on his fingertip. An impressed smirk grows slowly on his face, “I can’t believe you’re this wet already,” he hums. “All for me.”

His eyes remain focused on your center, devouring it with his eyes as his hands hold steady on your thighs. You can’t help but grow slightly embarrassed, dripping with arousal so early on though he’s barely touched you. A lump forms in your throat causing you to swallow thickly – this doesn’t go unnoticed by Jisung.

A concerned expression crosses his face, brow furrowing as he moves his hands upward to settle on your waist. “Hey,” his voice is soft, gentle and full of worry, “everything okay?”

“Just nervous,” you answer, a fake smile showing on your face to try and combat your own emotions.

It is no secret that Jisung is a bit more experienced than you are in bed. He knows that, you know that, and that is enough to turn you into a nervous wreck. Leave it to your own thoughts to ruin the moment.

“We don’t have to…”

“No!” Your voice comes out a little too eager, a bit loud, shocking Jisung. His eyes widen in response, body jolting from the impact of your tone. “No,” you say more gently this time, “I want to.”

You did want to – you just have to get over your own nerves first. Lucily, Jisung didn’t mind and was willing to guide you through it.

With a reassuring smile plastered across his face, he laces his fingers through yours. As you lock eyes, you nod him onward, giving him the go-ahead to continue. He moves languidly, his fingers moving back down to trace your slit once more. The sensation makes you tense, the nerves tingling through your body making it difficult for you to calm down.

But with a reassuring squeeze of his hand to yours, you’re taking a deep breath. Closing your eyes as you lie your head backwards onto his pillowcase. The smell of him consumes you, relaxing you effectively as his fingers meet the entrance of your core.

Shivers run through your body as he dips one finger inside. Your arousal acts as a natural lube, letting his finger glide gracefully into you. You gasp at the sensation, eyes rolling back into your head as he begins caressing your walls. His finger moves swiftly in and out of your core, his other hand still locked with yours to guide you through.

With your body finally relaxing, Jisung is able to add another finger into the mix. The extra pressure makes you shudder for a moment, taking a little to adjust to the greater size inside of you. Thankfully the mild discomfort subsides, and he’s able to pump his fingers in and out once more.

He’s making sure to watch each of your expressions, growing harder and harder just from watching your face contort in bliss. With each of his movements you bite down harder onto your lip, focusing on him and him only.

“You’re doing so well,” he praises as his thumb rubs circles over your hand soothing you. You can feel your heart swell at his words, heat beginning to rise to your cheeks.

In one swift motion, Jisung begins to separate his fingers, stretching your walls as his digits move in scissor-like motions inside you. “Fuck,” you mumble, hips jutting forward in reaction.

A steep moan leaving your lips as he brings his fingers back together, just to extend them once more. Your body is quickly getting used to the pressure, begging for more as you roll your hips.

He can sense that you’re eager from your movements alone. With one final squeeze, his hand is leaving yours. The empty feeling in your palm is unpleasant. But once you open your eyes and notice he’s using it to palm himself, his fingers groping around his length and beginning to pump slowly, that empty feeling is replaced with something else.

Your mouth salivates with desire, hungry for the feeling of him inside of you. He’s aroused you enough, and you’re too eager to feel him for your own good.

“Jisung,” you moan, “fuck me please.”

His cock jumps in reaction to your words, his chest heaving as his breath catches in his throat. Never in his life did he expect to hear those words come out of your mouth – but he wouldn't mind hearing it again.

“Hmm?” He hums, knowing damn well what you said but being greedy enough to pretend that he didn’t. You whine in response, your legs shaking on the bed in a mini temper-tantrum.

“Please,” you drag out, “please fuck me.”

Your words are music to his ears. He removes his fingers from your dripping cunt, grabbing the backs of your knees to pull you closer to him and hike your legs up over his hips.

“Anything for you.”

Complying to your wish, he lines the tip of his cock up with your entrance. The feeling of his smooth head against your core is enough to make you moan, your head thrown back to expose the soft skin of your neck.

Jisung takes this as an opportunity to leave his own mark behind, leaning down to attach his lips to your skin. You gasp as his teeth graze your skin, his plump lips sucking harshly before his tongue is swiping over the area to soothe it.

But your eyes open once he’s beginning to pull away to look at you. His eyes are dark, full of lust mixed with adoration, a sigh of relief leaving his chest as he gazes down at you under him. There’s a lot going on in his head right now. Of all the emotions swirling around, the thing he’s most focused on is how lucky he is to have you.

And before you know it, he’s leaning down. Pressing a chaste kiss to your lips, making you smile. One more kiss is left on your forehead before he's pulling back, securing the position of your legs on his hips.

And then he’s realigning himself with your core, pushing past your entrance and slowly descending into the depths of your pussy. He’s moving slowly, taking his time as he thrusts into you. The delicious stretch is unfamiliar, but it's not uncomfortable – like you were made just for him. A simultaneous groan leaves your lips as he bottoms out, the tip of his cock pressing deep into you on a spot that’s gone untouched.

He hums a sigh of contempt before pulling back, only to rock his hips into you once again. Your velvety walls welcome him delightedly, soft whimpers leaving your lips once he bottoms out again.

“Y/N,” your name leaves his lips in a low grunt, the bones of his pelvis driving into your skin as he begins to pick up his pace. In reaction you clench down on him, orgasm beginning to loom overhead with each movement of his hips.

Desire fills your senses as you roll your hips over to meet his thrusts. His movements are slow and intentional, making sure to bottom out each time to watch you squirm over his dick. He loves how your jaw drops each time his tip presses against your g-spot, knowing just when he hits it each time.

Jisung’s teeth are barred, sweat gathering at his brow as his dark fluffy hair sticks to his face. He’s trying to hold himself back, the overwhelming urge to finish just in reach, but he doesn’t want to stop. So his hands roam your body to try and distract him, his palms caressing up the sides of your torso as your back bridges into him. The feeling of hot breath fans over your face with each sigh he lets out.

But the tightening knot in your stomach is threatening to snap with every movement of his hips. It's getting harder and harder to hold on with the power of his thrusts growing stronger.

“Jisung,” you whine, “so close” your hands find his back, fingernails dragging down his spine in attempts to ground yourself. Jisung’s face contorts as your nails pierce his skin, leaving lines of red scratches down the length of his posterior.

The stretch from his length and his rhythmic motions sends your senses into overdrive. Squeezing your eyes shut and grasping onto the sheets underneath you, you can taste the brink of your orgasm. Jisung is focused; his grip on your thighs strong and his face contorted with bliss. But all you can think about is how stupid you could have been if you had decided to just cut him out. What matters is that you’re here with him now, and the thought of that is enough to push you over the edge.

Your breath hitches in your throat, stomach twisting and turning as your pussy throbs repeatedly around his member. Emotions running high, three words almost slip past your lips, but with the small amount of strength you can muster up, you hold them back. Another time, some time that isn't so lust filled like this one.

Jisung’s thrusts are growing sloppy. His grip on your legs tightening as his lip is caught between his teeth. And with just a few quick thrusts, he’s coming undone inside of you. White, hot spurts of cum paint your walls, filling you up and making you feel so unbelievably full.

You’ve always felt close to Jisung – he knew everything about you and vice versa; but this time was different. The way his hands settled on your legs, bringing them down gently after finishing. How his eyes are becoming so soft as he looks at you, a lazy grin pulling at his lips. You’ve never felt closer to Jisung as you do in the moment. As his body collapses next to yours, pulling you in and holding you close as you recover from your highs, you’re completely at peace.

“Sorry I got carried away, I guess I should have asked if you’re on birth control still,” he laughs, burying his face into the crook of your neck.

“Don’t worry, I am,” you chuckle alongside him.

Your naked bodies tangle together, his leg weaving its way through yours to be as close to you as possible. He’s intoxicated by you, closing his eyes as he rests against your body in complete bliss. Now that he has you this close he never wants to let go; and neither do you.

“Can I tell you something?” His voice is soft, whisper like but still holding confidence; his tone never falters.

“Anything.”

“I love you, Y/N.”

Butterflies erupt in your tummy, your heart thudding in your chest as heat rises to your cheeks. He loves you. It's not that friendship kind of love anymore; it's the relationship kind. The same kind that makes your heart skip a beat and body riddle with every emotion in the book. The kind that keeps you up all night thinking about – but also helps you fall asleep, knowing he’ll be there in the morning.

And all of a sudden it seems so stupid that you were fighting those words back in the heat of the moment just a few minutes ago. He felt it too, you always knew that.

“I love you, Jisung.”

Being in love is a dumb concept. All guys suck, relationships are stupid and love is a social construct that you didn’t feel like conforming to. There was absolutely no one that you would waste your time on, until Jisung came around. What you had been looking for your entire life has always been right infront of your eyes – you were just too dumb to see it.

Maybe love is alright, after all.

↠ A/N this fic has been rewritten/reconcepted from my previous BTS fic Crush Culture.

#stray kids smut #han jisung smut #kdiner #kwritersworldnet #stayracha #kafenetwork #skz x reader #stray kids #stray kids x reader #stray kids fanfic #han jisung #jisung x reader #jisung smut #jisung fluff #stray kids fluff #stray kids angst #han jisung x reader #skz jisung fanfic #jisung fanfic

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criticallyacclaimedstranger · 3 years

Text

Fic: What We Don't Know Can't Hurt Us

Fandom: Triple Frontier

Pairing: Frankie Morales x Librarian!Reader (cishet female) meet-cute

Warnings: No warnings really, some language and mention of masturbation and sex. Reader doesn't like kids. Yearning. Frankie is a TOTAL DILF SWEETHEART. Sad ending.

Summary: Reader is a librarian who has to temp at the kids' section desk from time to time which is a pain because she doesn't like kids. And who is a regular if not a very hot, scruffy-looking dad with the very polite and mild-mannered daughter? Sparks fly but some things maybe aren't meant to be.

Words: 5,155

a/n: Just to be clear, this one doesn't end well. I just wanted to write something sad, I guess.

Oh, shit, there he is again. The Hot Dad.

You straighten a little in your chair and once again curse the fact that you’re working in the children’s section at the library: the only desk that isn’t adjustable. You prefer to do your service desk duties standing up, not only for ergonomic reasons but because you hate how patrons look down on you – literally – when you’re seated by the desk. Also, you tend to slouch and it’s not an attractive look. And at the kids’ section, you’re all supposed to work on the same level as the little tykes. And you’re not particularly keen on those.

You are, however, keen on hot dads. God knows you only get them once in a blue moon and if they show up, it’s usually in tow of a whole clan of children and a wife. But this dad has been in once before when you’ve had desk duty and you saw him stop at the shelf for picture books about divorce and pick out a few. You also heard him tell his little girl that she shouldn’t bring the books she chose to her mom’s. Divorcee, so fantasizing was even more allowed – although he probably had a girlfriend. Guys like that always do.

“You don’t want to lose them, sweetie,” he had explained patiently to his daughter. “You can keep them in your room at my place but if you take them to your mom’s there’s a risk you lose them and that means I have to pay for them. You see, we’re only borrowing these books, that’s what you do in a library.”

You had smiled an inwards smile when listening to him. There was nothing you loved more than parents who actually seemed to understand that all the material in the library was free at one simple condition: return it in time, in the same condition as you borrowed it. A lot of people did not seem to grasp this and made a huge deal when they failed to meet these conditions and were faced with late fees or even had to compensate for lost books. But when parents who knew how to use a library include their offspring, explain how it all works for them, well, that’s how you foster a new generation of good library patrons.

This dad did just that. And he was very careful with the books, prompting his daughter to be the same. Every book she pulled out of the stacks, he helped her put back in the right place. That’s practically marriage material right there and it was enough to make you weak at the knees, to be honest. After almost ten years working in a public library, you were disillusioned about people in general and their intelligence in particular. Sure, you liked your job enough to not cry in the mornings when you had to leave bed, and you did enjoy the work itself (mostly), but… having to deal with people was exhausting. Having to deal with little people even more so, and the worst was having to deal with adult people who had little people with them. Parents.

Hence your absolute obsession with Hot Dad who was soft-spoken, really good with his kid, understood to appreciate the library and its services, nodded his hello to you when passing by the desk, didn’t make a mess, clearly read to his kid regularly and encouraged her to read for herself. You just didn’t get to see people like that so often, and it triggered your interest. You allowed yourself to daydream about him.

Francisco Morales. You remember his name from his last visit, when he and the kid came up to the desk with their haul. You always encouraged patrons to use the self-service check-out (the less you had to do deal with them, the better), but for this guy you were more than willing to go the extra service mile, even with the kid staring at your every move from across the desk as you registered all the loans. You silently gave her plus points for not trying to “help” like some kids did, and for the quiet but clear Thank you she gave you without prompting from her father.

You’re busying yourself with the returns, loading them onto a cart, when you hear a soft, deep voice go Excuse me behind your back. You twirl around and see Morales, pulling his baseball cap off his head to reveal curls that would make any hair model cry of envy.

“Sorry to bother you,” he offers. Take me now, you think to yourself but instead, you give him your brightest customer service smile, the one you rarely give patrons.

“No worries, how can I help?”

“We’re looking for picture books about farm animals. You don’t happen to have those separated? I noticed you have some subject areas separated.” He gestures back towards the picture book stacks where his daughter is quietly perusing.

“We don’t, but I think we have some Julia Donaldsons available, let me come and have a look.”

You don’t always offer. With most patrons, you’d tell them to look under D for Donaldson and then smile sweetly and ask them if they’re okay to do it themselves. You can’t do everything for everyone, that way they’ll never learn. But for Francisco Morales and his well-behaved little girl, you’re absolutely willing to make an exception.

There are some Donaldsons that the girl, whose name you learn is Sofia, eagerly accepts when you present her with them.

“I love fawm animals,” she sighs happily as she browses the first one. “Do you?”

“Who doesn’t love animals?” You make the effort to small talk although communicating with kids usually makes you awkward.

“What’s youw favowite? Mine is bunny. And howses. And lambs.”

“Goats! I love goats, they’re so cute and sweet and playful.” You almost add something about goats being the devil’s favorite animal as well but manage to stop yourself in time.

“Is there something else you want to ask the librarian?” Morales asks his daughter. “If not, I’m sure she has a lot of work to do, and we shouldn’t keep her any longer.”

“I’m here to help,” you shrug and give him a little smile: not a polite, impersonal one that you’d give a patron, but a more intimate one. A flirty smile. “You just need to ask.”

The smile he gives you back is warm and grateful, and you realize that he doesn’t have different facial expressions for different people. He doesn’t work in customer service because if he did, he’d know the difference. Not that you ever thought he worked in retail or anything like that, well, maybe a hardware store, but no. He just doesn’t seem like the type. The way he moves his body suggests something a lot more physical.

Oh, you’d like to get physical with him, alright…

All the sucky library-themed pick-up lines flash through your head. Can I check you out as an overnight loan? Can I insert my private collection into your empty stacks? My reference desk or yours? Am I being too loud, well, you’ll just have to shush me with your lips. You’re like an overdue library book because you have fine written all over you.

Worst part is, if Hot Dad Morales tried any of these on you, you’d probably forgive him and go for it. Maybe. You’re really not that simple, but a girl can dream, right?

The kid thanks you and you return to the relative safety of the desk and the mundane task of alphabetizing returns. You need to calm the fuck down and act professional. Daydreaming is fine but you’re barely toeing the line.

God, you need to get laid. As if that’s something that one can remedy just by walking into a store and ordering a medium dick with a side of hands and tongue.

📚📚📚

The next time you see Francisco and Sofia Morales, you’re taking your lunch break in the small park outside the library. It’s a sunny day and you didn’t fancy sitting in the breakroom with your salad, listening to colleagues talking about who cares what. So you took your lunch box, fork, and water bottle, and went to sit on the park bench the furthest away from the swing set and sandbox. The weather is nice and you enjoy yourself and your break from the library’s chat service. You never know what you’re gonna get when you work the chat: a stupid question about opening hours which anyone could google the answer to, or something more complicated like requests for books with partial or no titles, rarities, or subject areas that you don’t know much about. That’s when you get to use your whole competence and really dig deep, think outside the box, solve problems. You love it but it’s challenging at times, and takes a lot of energy. Your outdoor break is welcome.

“Hi!”

You hadn’t noticed the girl walking up to you and the greeting startles you.

“Oh, hi.”

“We’we wetuwning the animal books,” Sofia informs you seriously. You have to smile.

“Good job. You want more of those or something else this time?”

“Mowe. Will you help me find some?”

“I’m not working the desk at the children’s section today but my colleague there will absolutely help you. Just ask her.”

Now you see Morales walking towards you from the swing set, carrying the large, flowery canvas tote that says “book bag” he always brings to the library.

“Hello,” he nods with that warm smile that he definitely gives everyone. “Sofia, don’t disturb the lady on her break. I’m sure she wants some peace and quiet before she has to go back to work.”

Jesus fucking Christ. How does this man just know shit like this?

“I’m sowwy,” Sofia immediately offers. “I wanted to say hello.”

“Don’t worry, it’s okay,” you allow, although technically, he’s not wrong. “I’m almost done. It was nice to see you. I hope you have a good visit to the library.”

“Thank you!” She skips along and Morales chuckles as he takes off his baseball cap and scratches his head, swipes his long locks out of his forehead, then puts the hat back on.

“You’re her favorite, you know,” he tells you. When you raise your eyebrow, not comprehending, he hurries to elaborate. “Of the librarians. She says you’re the best.”

“Thank you, but whatever for?” You know you do a good enough job at your usual position and that your regulars appreciate you, but you are also very aware of not being at your finest in the kids’ section.

“You have to ask her,” Morales grins as he looks out for his kid, who has returned to the swing set and is pumping her legs on the swing, brows knitted in concentration. “But she’s very taken with you. I think it’s because you’re very calm and focused with her.”

Calm and focused??? You almost laugh out loud. That’s everything you’re not when you’re at the kids’ desk.

“Thanks,” you manage, because you have to say something.

“She’s also really interested in your tattoos and I definitely think she wants to get her nose pierced now,” Morales goes on. “I told her that we don’t comment on people’s appearance, but just a heads up, she might ask you about those.”

Ah, the unpredictability of children.

“I appreciate it.” You really do. You don’t mind talking about your tattoos or the septum ring you have but if a kid suddenly asks about it, you’d rather be prepared.

“Anyway, sorry to intrude on your lunch.”

“No worries,” you reassure him. “You can… sit down for a while if you want to? I have ten minutes left.”

Your heart beats faster at your proposal. It’s not exactly appropriate but you just want to enjoy his company for a moment. And discreetly sniff him because he smells so fucking good, woodsy and smokey but with a hint of… vanilla? You’re terrible at recognizing smells but it reminds you of some aroma reeds you had a couple of years ago that smelled like a wood cabin with vanilla sugar spilled on the floor. You loved it but like everything you love, it was discontinued.

Morales looks over at his daughter before nodding, the book bag slipping down from his shoulder as he places it next to the bench.

“If you’re sure?”

“Wouldn’t offer if I wasn’t.”

He likes your straightforward answer, you can tell from how his eyes crinkle a little and how relaxed his body language is when he sits down.

“I’m Frankie, by the way,” he says, like he just remembered that introductions are a normal part of human interaction. He extends his right hand to you and as you accept it and tell him your name, you can’t help but marvel at how huge his hand is. Big, warm, slightly damp but not in a weird way.

“Nice to meet you, Frankie.” Frankie. Francisco Morales is Frankie. It suits him better than Francisco, to be honest.

“And that’s Sofia.” He points to the girl who seems content swinging by herself. You realize you’re expected to say something nice about her to the proud dad.

“She seems sweet.”

“Yeah, she’s awesome. And she loves coming to the library, it’s all she talks about when I have her.” He clears his throat and adds: “Her mother and I got divorced quite recently. I only get her five days every other week.”

“Sorry to hear that.” Shit, it’s divorce and custody talk from the start. You have no idea how to respond to that.

“That’s life,” he shrugs, “but I figured that going to the library every time I get her could be a good routine to ground her. And then we have books that we can read together for her entire stay.”

It’s definitely a good routine as far as you can tell.

“When I was between nine and thirteen years old, my dad would take me to the local library every Monday evening,” you tell him, smiling at the memory. “My dad never opened a book in his life but he patiently read the auto and tech magazines while I collected half the kids’ section with me. When I went to tell him that I was done, he always pretended to object to the amounts, but then he’d help me carry it all to the car.”

As you tell him this, you’re looking at him, no, staring at the patchy, grey-splashed beard he’s sporting. It’s the most fascinating thing you’ve ever seen. What’s the story there, why doesn’t it grow evenly? Is this a thing? You don’t have enough experience in the field of facial hair. Is it genetic? Is it always like this?

He keeps looking at his daughter as he listens to you with a small smile on his face, clearly enjoying your little anecdote.

“That’s lovely,” he says, turning his attention back to you when you’re finished. “Dads and daughters, huh?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

You pick up your phone to check the time. Shit. You have to return to the chat.

“I gotta go. Lunch break’s over.”

You collect your things and stand up, brushing off your skirt. Frankie stands up as well and picks up the book bag.

“I’ll see you in there?”

“I’m not a the desk today.”

“Oh.” He seems disappointed, his eyes flickering from you to the ground. “That’s too bad.”

“And the kids' section isn't my primary department.”

“The bad news just keep on coming, don't they,” he jokes as the two of you start to walk towards the entrance. Sofia jumps from the swing and comes running.

“She's not at the desk today, daddy,” she tells Frankie precociously.

“I know, mija. We'll have to ask someone else about the animal books, okay?”

Sofia doesn't seem too happy with this solution but nods. You take your leave before she has the opportunity to ask about your body modifications, and disappear through a door marked “Staff Only”.

📚📚📚

The following weeks you seem to see Frankie everywhere. You run into him at the supermarket and get drafted into advicing him on what cereal to buy for his kid. “Something healthy, but good so she'll actually eat it.” How the hell should I know? you want to scoff, but you're simping for him enough to help him choose something you'd never in a thousand years touch yourself. You see him in town one afternoon when you're running errands and he suggests you grab a coffee - holy hell, in your book that's a fucking date - but you decline as kindly as you can, citing a busy schedule when in fact you're mostly just scared out of your mind. The daydream is becoming a little too real and you're absolutely not ready for that, especially not because of the kid. If it wasn't for Sofia, you could have dared the leap, but dating a guy relatively fresh out of a marriage, and with a kid to boot? No, that's asking for trouble and you don't want trouble.

One afternoon at the kids' desk, you once again get to help Sofia find books, this time on sharks.

“She went from farm animals to sharks in one week,” Frankie confides in you when the girl is sitting quietly in a reading nook, carefully studying every page and occasionally widening her eyes at what you suspect is pictures of shark teeth. “It's sharks this and sharks that. She asks if there are sharks in every body of water she sees, from the pond in the park to the ditch outside my parents' house.”

“Have her watch Jaws and she will never want to think about sharks ever again,” you suggest, earning a laugh although the idea was probably a little bit on the morbid side.

“Maybe, but that would probably scar her for life. I actually want her to learn how to swim.”

“Then best not.”

You pick up a couple of books someone else left behind on a table and make a gesture that says I have to re-shelve these, come with and Frankie follows you to the right shelf.

“You know, she talks about you as her friend at the library.”

Now, some people would find that adorable but you don't. You're not friends with this kid, you're in a position where you could possibly influence her keenness to literature and literacy but you will always risk critique from her guardians. Being a children's librarian is like a hybrid between being in customer service, and being a teacher. You get to form young malleable minds but you are always subjected to criticism, even when you've done nothing wrong. Kids are patrons, like adults, and to have them see you as friends is only going to complicate things.

“That's nice,” you reply carefully, not really sure what else to say. It's so hard to talk to parents sometimes, one wrong words and you're basically Satan, you can't know because you don't have kids yourself, how dare you not worship the ground my offspring just vomited all over?

“You're definitely her favorite librarian.”

That you can take. You have a couple of adult patrons who come in regularly and prefer to get their reading recommendations from you. They always have time to discuss literature and they bring you a box of chocolates for Christmas.

“Well, she's easy to help. She always knows what she wants and she's polite. And quite easy to please,” you smile, meaning every word. You don't mention that the only time you like kids is when they're like Sofia is right now: reading quietly in a corner, handling the books with care.

“You're my favorite librarian as well,” Frankie adds, and now that sweet smile he's always wearing when you see him is shy. There's definitely a red tinge on his cheekbones as well and it makes you want to lean forward and kiss him on his goddamn mouth with that goddamn full lower lip that he sometimes sucks into his mouth or fucking licks...

“How many librarians do you know?” you ask and manage to sound easy-going, or at least you think so. The laugh Frankie produces is low and rolling and it makes your stomach coil in on itself. Fuck him and that deep voice he rode in on!

“Got me there. It's basically you and Mrs Wilkerson, the school librarian who scared the shit out of me when I was in elementary school. She made sure I didn't step foot in a library until, well, now.”

“Oh, I so wanted to be a librarian like that when I was a kid!” You grin at Frankie's horrified expression. “No, no, hear me out! I always had this idea that those librarians led these super rich, fulfilling lives as night-time vigilantes or that they were actually millionaires who spent their free time floating around in pools with fancy drinks in hand.”

“Were you... a normal child, besides these illusions?” Frankie teases you and before you can stop yourself, you're slapping his arm playfully. Like a girlfriend would. Or someone more intimate than a Favorite Librarian, at any rate.

“I'll have you know that the voices in my head are saying that we had a very normal and healthy childhood,” you reply with as much dignity as you can muster, while desperately wishing for the phone to ring or another patron to ask for your help. But no, the ones present seem to be managing on their own - except for one mom who seemed to have overheard your joke because she is now staring at you with hesitation in her eyes.

It's Sofia who comes to your rescue with her request of being taken to the bathroom. By the time she and Frankie are done there, your colleague has come to relieve you of your duties at the children's section.

📚📚📚

You knew of course that it was coming. You may not be that experienced in the terms of dating and relationships but you weren't stupid and you had some experience: Frankie was going to ask you out. It had to happen. Technically, it had already happened that afternoon in town when he asked you out for coffee. He maybe didn't see it as a date, but you certainly did.

It happened when you had just started your shift in the children's section and it was a fucking mess. A class of kindergarteners had just left and the teachers hadn't bothered to keep them in check, so there were not only books on every available surface, they were also put in the wrong way and in the wrong places. Your colleague who you were relieving stayed behind to help you, feeling too bad to leave it all to you.

That's when Daddy and Daughter Morales showed up. You weren't really happy about the existence of kids in the first place but made an effort for Sofia, who brought you a drawing she had made in preschool that day. It featured some figures in green, slightly reminiscent of animals and one human but you wouldn't be able to tell. Luckily, Frankie explained it to you.

“She's waited all day to give you this drawing of you with goats.”

“Wow,” you manage. “Thank you, Sofia, this was so kind of you.”

The girl is beaming with pride. “Will you put it on the wall?”

“Super probably!”

“I can see you're busy,” Frankie notes and ushers Sofia along. “We won't distract you. Come on, honey, let her do her job now and maybe you'll get to talk to her later.”

You nod your thanks and focus on cleaning up the entire department before you colleague leaves and Frankie and Sofia come to the desk to borrow this week' picks. Sofia seems uncharacteristically giddy.

“Do you want to come with us to the awbowetum?” she asks with a wide, expectant smile. Fuck shit ass hell.

“We're going on Saturday,” Frankie fills in, “and we were both hoping you'd want to join?”

Saturday. Thank goodness.

“Sorry, I work on Saturday,” you say, trying to sound rueful. It's true and you're relieved about not having to lie. “But thanks, it's sweet of you to ask.”

Sofia is clearly disappointed and so is Frankie, but he masks it better.

“Some other time, yeah?”

If it were only him, you'd tell him it wasn't a good idea. But you can't say that with the kid right in front of you. You may not like kids but that doesn't mean you want to scar them for life.

“Yeah, maybe.”

You loan them the books and as they leave, Sofia waves happily at you and Frankie shoots you one last smile that makes you press your thighs together in your seat.

Come Saturday, you're by your usual desk in the section for adult fiction and you almost fall off your chair when you see Frankie come up the stairs and straight up to the desk.

“Hi.” He's had a haircut and a shave and looks different. Still good, but very different. The dark locks of his hair are more tamed. The mustache is still there but you miss the patchy beard.

“Um, hi? Where's Sofia?”

“In the car, with a friend. We're going to the arboretum.”

“Right. I hope you have a good time, the arboretum's lovely.” You still don't understand what he's doing here and he seems to have some difficulty in telling you. Moving his weight from one foot to the other, he scratches his neck and looks down - why does he have to be so freaking cute? - before looking up at you.

“About that... I wanted to apologize. I wasn't sure it was a good idea to ask you to come with, but Sofia was so persistent. She likes you so much. I didn't mean to put you on the spot like that. I'm sorry.”

“That's alright,” you brush it off because there's not really anything else you can say. “Don't think about it, just go have a good day.”

“I also wanted to ask if you wanted to go grab a drink with me. Just me. Maybe next week when Sofia's at her mother's.”

Fuck, there it is. His hopeful face makes you hate yourself for the answer you have to give.

“I'm not sure that's such a good idea, Frankie,” you begin carefully. “I'm really flattered, but you're... recently divorced with a kid. That's a lot of baggage and things could get complicated. I don't want to get caught up in that.”

You've practiced this speech at home but it still breaks your fucking heart because Frankie is so good-looking, kind, funny, and sweet. You would've asked him out yourself already if it wasn't for the baggage. Fuck, you masturbate to the thought of him, for crying out loud! You imagine what it would be like to be with him, to make dinner together and watch movies and go to bed and wake up in each other's arms. You think about sex with him a lot. You make an effort with your appearance those days you know he'll show up at the library, you don't even mind the kids' section that much anymore because you get to talk to him.

You are fucking in love with him, or at least the idea of him because you don't know much about him, only that he used to be a pilot in the special forces but now he trains new pilots, he has best friends who are like uncles to Sofia (and who have been asking about this mystery librarian she always keeps talking about), he likes cooking and loves baking with his daughter, he hates working out but knows he should take better care of himself, hell, you even know what brand of milk he buys.

He's clearly disappointed but keeps a brave face, one that you can see right through because he wears his heart on his sleeve.

“I understand that,” he says quietly, mildly. “I'm sorry, I hope I didn't embarrass you.”

Jesus fucking Christ can this man not???

“No, don't worry. I'm sorry I couldn't give you the answer you wanted. It's just... not a good time.”

Shit. You shouldn't have said that. Now he might think it could be a better time later.

Frankie nods and smiles sadly. “Yeah, you're probably right.”

“I'm sorry.”

“Yeah, me too.”

He clears his throat and nods. “I better be going. You have a good weekend now.”

“You too.”

He shoots you one final smile before he turns around and leaves. As you watch him go down the stairs to the exit level, you just want to call his name, do your run through the airport and hurry after him, throw yourself into his arms, kiss him, Jesus, imagine that somewhere there's someone who'll get to kiss him some day, tell him that you made a huge mistake and you want to go out with him, you want to have drinks with him and dinner and breakfast and lunch for the rest of your lives because nothing would make you happier than making him happy. You want to be the reason his eyes crinkle and his cheek displays that little dimple that makes you lose your train of thought every time you see it.

But it's not for you. People with kids need to prioritize their kids and you know that you can't be anyone's number two. You don't want to get caught up in custody disputes, you don't want to be "your father's new slut", you don't want to be anyone's stepmom. You don't want to have to spend five days a week in the same house as a five-year-old. Being in a relationship is difficult enough as it is and if you can make choices that avoid some of the problems, you're going to make them, no matter how much it hurts.

And it hurts. A lot. But so much in life hurts and you've made it through before.

He must already be out the door, probably in the car. Does he say something about this to his daughter and friend? Is it a female friend? No, it must be one of his army buddies, probably one of the brothers.

You pull up Frankie's profile in the library database and see his phone number. You could call him anytime. Or send a text. Keep talking to him, flirting.

Shit. It's a bad idea.

A patron approaches the desk and you force yourself to look mild and service-minded.

“Hi, do you have Hate To Want You by someone called... Ray, I think?”

“Please hold a moment, I'll check.” You stifle the sigh that threatens to escape you and hope that the day will be busy so you won't have time to think about Francisco Morales again.

#my fic #triple frontier #francisco catfish morales #francisco frankie morales #frankie morales #frankie morales x you #frankie morales x reader

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refinedbuffoonery · 3 years

Text

Looking Through A Window (5)

macriley married undercover au

masterlist.

Admittedly, this is kind of a filler/transition chapter, but I have big plans for this story, and I’m really excited for y’all to read what happens next. Expect an update every weekend this month!

*****

The nightmare sinks its claws deeper as Mac tries to dislodge it. He knows it’s a dream, and Mac tosses and turns as he grapples for control of his mind.

The images in his mind persist. He's back in the Sandbox, but this time Bozer is with him, and Bozer's dying from a bullet wound before Mac can carry him to safety. Mac's had the dream a million times, and it always ends the same way.

I know you won’t let me die, Bozer says. But seconds later, his eyes turn glassy when his soul leaves his body.

Mac’s throat closes, cutting off his oxygen supply, and for a moment he thinks he’s going to follow Bozer into the afterlife.

It’s just a dream. He’s just lucid enough to remind himself of that. Wake up, Mac commands his body. Wake up. Wake up. Wake up. Wake up.

The nightmare won’t let him.

Suddenly a different set of claws grip Mac’s shoulders, and the voice ordering him to wake up isn’t his own. He tries to jerk away, but the claws dig in.

Not claws, Mac realizes. Hands. Slender ones, with long fingers. Nails biting into his skin through his worn t-shirt.

He knows those hands.

“Wake up,” Riley hisses, and it’s enough to finally yank Mac from his dream. Mac’s eyes snap open, automatically scanning his surroundings. The bedroom is pitch black, but Mac can just make out Riley kneeling above him, her tired face twisted in concern. Her hands are on Mac’s shoulders, but not pinning him to the bed like he first thought. Her touch is light, and her thumbs make gentle sweeps across his collarbones. Mac’s own hands find Riley’s forearms, but he doesn’t push her away, nor does she lay back down. “You okay?” she asks.

Mac tries to play it off. “Yeah, bad dream. That’s all.” It’s a bit of an exaggeration, considering that he’s drenched in sweat and the final and most disturbing seconds of the dream are lingering longer than the rest. He knows it’s not real, but Mac can’t quite shake the sick feeling.

Riley exhales, and Mac finds himself mirroring her breathing automatically. Sliding a hand down to her wrist, he presses two fingers into her skin, feeling the steady thrum of her pulse. It’s faster than he expects.

Almost as if in explanation, Riley says, “You scared the shit out of the dog, not to mention me.”

Mac winces, feeling guilty. “Sorry.”

“You don’t need to apologize.” Slowly, Riley releases him and lays back down, leaving plenty of space between them. Mac misses her touch the instant she lets go. “Want to talk about it?”

That throat-closing feeling returns as Mac contemplates what to tell her. Part of him wants to share, but a bigger part hesitates when the explanation dies on his tongue. “Not really,” he finally says.

“Okay.” Riley says, pausing. “You’re wide awake right now, aren’t you?”

This, at least, he can admit easily. “Yep.”

There’s another long pause, filled only with the soft sound of their exhales. Just when he’s about to tell Riley to stop worrying about him and go back to sleep, she says, “Come here.”

Mac stills. That weird tension still lingers between him and Riley, causing awkward silences and stilted conversations. So this…this is unexpected.

He shouldn't. He really shouldn't. But, her voice is soft and reassuring, and who is he to turn down a free opportunity to cuddle with the woman he loves? Even if it might be a mistake.

As soon as Mac scoots across the bed, Riley pulls him into her side, guiding his head to rest on her non-injured shoulder. Riley’s side of the bed isn’t nearly as warm as his, but her body is soft and Mac likes how they fit together. Mac can’t help but sigh in contentment as Riley lightly scratches his scalp, and he lets an arm settle over her waist. They’ve fallen asleep together plenty of times over the years, but she’s never held him. Not like this. His heart pounds at the intimacy of it all.

But as Mac slowly starts to relax, the pulse in his ear doesn’t slow like it should. Because it’s not his heartbeat he’s hearing.

It’s hers.

Does that mean…?

“So,” Riley says, breaking the silence. “It’s later.”

The realization feels like a slap to the face. That’s why her heart is beating so fast. Not because of their close proximity, but because it’s later and there’s still that unresolved thing hanging between them. Mac’s fleeting hope that Riley’s racing pulse meant something else is nothing more than a fantasy in his head.

Swallowing his disappointment, Mac starts, “Riley, I really am sorry—” She cuts him off.

“Stop. You don’t need to apologize again. I forgave you the first time.” Her fingers sweep behind his ear, making him shiver slightly. “It’s my turn.” Riley takes a deep breath. “I’m sorry for not listening to you. Like, really listening. Your concerns are legit, and I shouldn’t have brushed them aside and followed Matty blindly.”

Oh.

“I hate this situation just as much as you do, and I’m sorry if I made you feel otherwise.” Her voice catches slightly. “Also, I lied to you this morning, in the car. I knew I needed to apologize. I just didn’t know how to say it yet.”

Pointedly ignoring the intimacy of the gesture, Mac brushes his thumb over her ribs in a way he hopes is reassuring. “It’s okay.”

Riley tenses beneath him, and Mac freezes instantly. “It’s not, but thanks for saying that anyway,” she murmurs, relaxing again. Her fingers resume their path through his hair, catching on the occasional tangle.

Mac doesn’t know how to reassure her that it really is okay. So instead he confesses, “Sometimes I hate this job.”

She’s quiet for a few long seconds before responding. “Me too.”

It’s weird voicing it aloud. They’re all painfully aware of the downsides to the job, but rarely does anyone directly mention it. Maybe Riley is on a similar page as him after all.

Mac questions, “Are we doing the right thing? Playing along and letting innocent people get hurt just so we can take down the whole organization at once?” He needs to know her answer…needs confirmation that this whole op isn’t just one massive wrong choice.

“I think the good we do outweighs the bad,” Riley says after a few moments. “At least that’s what I tell myself so I can sleep at night.” She shifts, and for a brief, exhilarating moment, their hips press together before she pushes her knee uncomfortably into his thigh. Mac squirms, trying and failing to find a good position, ultimately taking a chance by slotting his leg between hers. Riley inhales sharply, but she doesn’t push him away. Mac tries not to read into it. Lying like this is intimate and intense and yet so easy. So right.

Mac pushes the heady feeling aside, ignoring the way it crackles in the background, threatening to consume him. They need to have this conversation, without distraction. Even welcome ones.

“Riley, we helped them kill people,” he says, and Riley’s hand stills in his hair.

“We can’t save everyone, Mac."

The thrumming in his body stops so quickly Riley might as well have dumped a bucket of ice water on him.

His heart cracks as she softly repeats, "We just can't." Like maybe she's breaking her own heart too by saying it.

He wants to kiss her chest—to press his lips to her heart in an attempt to soothe the ache there.

Mac understands all too well. It’s not the countless lives they have saved that stick with him, but the few they couldn’t. Zoe, the researcher who drowned in the Arctic to save her students. Jill, who fell victim to one of Murdoc’s murderous games. Charlie, who sacrificed himself so Mac wouldn’t have to choose between saving his friend and saving hundreds of innocent people. Lasky, the nuclear plant engineer who was just doing his job. Mac’s father. His aunt. Jack.

Riley clears her throat. "So, yeah. I think we are doing the right thing. It just sucks.”

Mac agrees, even though he can hardly admit it to himself. But there’s still one thing he doesn’t understand. “I don’t get how Matty seemed so okay with all of this,” he says.

“Come on, Mac. You know Matty hates this just as much as we do. She wouldn’t ask us to play along if she didn’t think it was necessary.” Riley’s fingers resume their steady, sweeping path through his hair, and Mac takes comfort in the gesture.

He sighs. “You sound like Jack.”

“I learned from the best. Don’t tell him I said that,” Riley warns, but Mac can hear the smile in her voice.

He tilts his face toward the ceiling, imagining Jack looking down at them from whatever afterlife he found himself in. “You hear that, old man? She admitted to learning something from you.”

Riley snorts, giving Mac’s hair a sharp tug. “Oh shut up.” She means it to be playful, but it sends a bolt of desire through his body.

It’s too much, with her hand in his hair and their bodies intertwined, and the intimacy may very well burn Mac alive. Every nerve in his body goes on high alert, and his grip on Riley’s rib cage tightens automatically.

“Sleep,” she murmurs, clearly mistaking the tension in his body as coming from somewhere—anywhere—else. Riley is one of the smartest, most perceptive people Mac knows, and yet she has no idea how he feels about her. Maybe that’s a good thing, he reasons. It’s easier that way. Less complicated.

Although full-on front-to-front cuddling isn’t not complicated.

It doesn't take long for the gentle pressure of Riley's fingers to win out, and Mac melts into her touch, letting his body grow heavy. Sleep beckons, and his eyelids flutter shut of their own accord as Riley wraps her free arm around his back, pulling him closer. Again, he thinks she feels like safety.

In his last moments of consciousness, Mac mumbles, “I like this,” before drifting back to sleep.

*****

For the first time, Riley is already out of bed when Mac wakes, and he’s positive it has something to do with the fact that he’s still on her side of the bed.

Cuddling with her was a mistake. Even if it led to the best sleep he’s had in a long time.

Burying his face in Riley’s pillow, Mac takes a deep breath. It smells like her. He hears the front door open and close, and then Riley’s muffled voice fills the apartment. Mac can’t quite pick up what she’s saying, but he thinks she’s on the phone rather than talking to Harley.

Suddenly getting up seems like a daunting task.

Not caring if it makes him a coward, Mac stays in bed, taking the opportunity to study the bedroom decor. This is day nine of the op, and before now Mac never bothered to appreciate the work someone put into setting up the safe house. It’s too modern and minimalist for his taste, but he has to admit it looks nice. The bedroom walls are a soft light gray, with a handful of paintings of different sizes and framed photos of him, Riley, and Harley scattered throughout. More of the photos Bozer took are in the hallway, but Mac’s never given those more than a cursory glance.

Across from the bed sits the single, expensive-looking dresser, with overstuffed drawers that don’t quite shut all the way. One of Riley’s drawers is completely open, and the t-shirt she wore to bed last night hangs haphazardly over the edge.

Mac’s eyes catch on the photo sitting on top of the dresser, beside the plant he keeps forgetting to water. It’s one of the wedding photos, and it’s the only photo Mac has really paid attention to, since he stares at it every day while getting dressed. The photo is of Riley and him slow dancing, and she’s looking at him like he hung the moon. And he’s looking at her the exact same way.

More than anything, Mac wishes it was real.

The bedroom door creaks open, and Mac cranes his neck to see Harley’s fluffy head peek through. She doesn’t enter. Instead, Harley watches him cautiously, almost like she wasn’t expecting him to be awake and is now unsure what to do.

Mac pats the mattress. “It’s okay. Come on.” When she doesn’t move, he adds, “I’m sorry I scared you last night.” His apology must be enough, because Harley jumps on the bed with him. She stands between his outstretched legs as Mac rakes his hands through her fur, scratching her butt the way she likes. “How about I get you a new toy to make up for it?” he asks. Tail wagging, Harley licks his face in approval, and Mac laughs. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

Riley raises her voice—she’s complaining about something, although Mac still can’t determine what—and both Mac and Harley turn their attention to the sound.

Harley looks back at him, and Mac starts to think that he wasn’t far off the other day when he noticed Harley playing protector. He smiles softly. “Go check on her.”

Harley jumps off the bed immediately, surprising Mac when she glances back at him on her way out the door.

Still smiling, Mac gets up to start his day.

By the time he emerges from the bedroom, Riley is playing fetch with Harley in the living room while she’s on the phone. Surprised the call has lasted this long, Mac raises his brow, silently asking who she’s talking to, and Riley holds up a finger. One second.

While he’s waiting, Mac wanders into the kitchen in search of breakfast.

Riley’s next throw ricochets off the wall, and the tennis ball hits Mac’s thigh. “What do you mean he’s not in the database?” she shrieks. “Bozer, practically every criminal in the world is in that database.”

Mac freezes midway through unwrapping a muffin.

Riley pinches her nose. “Then run the sketch through the DMV database. The guy who tailed me has to exist somewhere.”

He swallows. “Tailed?”

“Hang on, Boze. Mac just walked in.” Exasperated, Riley moves her phone away from her face. “I took Harley for a walk while you were still asleep, and some guy tailed me. Don’t worry, I lost him long before returning to the apartment.”

Mac bristles. Riley had been in danger, and he was asleep. Why didn’t she tell him where she was going? He tries not to think about all the bad things that could’ve happened. “You think this guy is part of the Patriots?”

Shrugging, Riley says, “That makes the most sense. But it’s hard to know for sure when we don’t have personnel records.”

That’s just one of many problems with this op—no official list of known members of the Patriots. Mac and Riley have no choice but to learn about people the old-fashioned way.

Pinning her phone between her cheek and her shoulder, Riley retrieves the tennis ball from under the couch, her voice muffled as she asks, “Got anything, Boze?” A few seconds later, she groans, but Mac can’t tell whether it’s because of Bozer’s answer or the amount of hair now stuck to the visibly soggy tennis ball in her hands. He makes a mental note to vacuum again. “Thanks for trying,” she says before hanging up.

Treading carefully, Mac asks, “Well?” He doesn’t need to be a genius to know that she’s still rattled, no matter how much she tries to downplay it.

“His name is Peter Morrison, and he has three speeding tickets. That’s it.” Still holding the tennis ball, Riley’s shoulders slump as she sits on the arm of the couch. Confused why she stopped playing, Harley stands between Riley’s legs and whines, nosing Riley’s hand in an attempt to get her to throw the ball again.

When Riley doesn’t oblige her, Mac asks, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?” Riley says, but her voice is tight and she bristles when he moves closer. He knows she’s lying—they’ve both been lying a lot recently—but what Mac doesn’t understand is why. He knows why he’s lying, but why does Riley still feel the need to hide how she’s feeling from him?

It’s like the intimacy of last night never happened.

Mac takes the wet, hairy tennis ball from her hands and throws it for Harley. “Do you want a hug or help kicking someone’s ass?” The question earns him a small smile, one that makes Mac’s heart flutter in his chest.

“I was thinking more along the lines of punching someone in the face, but I suppose we can kick them too,” she quips. Mac laughs, and the corners of Riley’s eyes crinkle as her smile widens.

“Sounds like a plan.” Harley brings the ball back and drops it at Mac’s feet. “Last throw,” he tells her, knowing full well it won’t be. Turning his attention back to Riley, he asks, “How’s your shoulder?”

Absent-mindedly, Riley’s fingers trace the outline of a bruise peeking out from beneath her tank top. “It hurts. You grabbed it in your sleep last night, and I almost screamed.”

Mac grimaces. “Sorry.” He wants to ask about last night and make sure they’re okay, but the words refuse to form. “I’m going to call Conrad and make him explain, okay?”

“Okay.” Riley nods. For a second, it seems like she wants to say something more, but she ultimately doesn’t. Honoring her implicit request for space, Mac briefly squeezes her arm as he walks away. The gesture is a promise: I’m here.

*****

“This is unacceptable,” Mac growls at Ethan, later that day. After giving Conrad an earful over the phone, apparently Mac made a big enough fuss to warrant a visit from the leader of the Patriots himself. They meet in public—neutral ground—at a park not unlike the one across the street from Mac and Riley’s apartment. It feels wrong to use the term safe house, since it’s not as safe as they thought.

“I’m sorry you feel that way, James,” Ethan placates. “It’s simply standard business procedure. I’m sure you researched us before formally offering your services.”

Mac barely stops himself from making a face. Oh they researched the Patriots, all right. “Of course we did.” He really should do a better job of holding his snark at bay, but Mac lets it tint his words anyway. “But we didn’t invade individual members’ privacy or threaten anyone’s personal safety.”

“My employee did not and would not have hurt your wife. She was never in danger, I can assure you.”

“And how was she supposed to know that?” He’s borderline yelling, but Mac is too pissed to care. The more Ethan tries to convince him the situation is okay, the more Mac wishes they were closer to the playground so he could strangle Ethan with the chain from the swings. He snarls, “Explain that to me.”

Ethan, it seems, is at a rare loss for words. Mac waits, forcing the other man to fill the silence. “I suppose she wouldn’t have,” Ethan finally admits, although he shows no sign of backing down.

Mac stands. “Don’t let this happen again.” He starts to walk away, content with having the last word, but Mac stops dead in his tracks when Ethan calls after him.

“If you won’t comply with the way we do things, then I guess we’ll just have to find someone else.”

Mac spins on his heel. “That’s bullshit,” he spits. “You need us. You won’t find anyone better, at least not that you can afford, and we both know it. Your organization is small potatoes right now, but with our support, the Patriots could join the big leagues. So it’s up to you to decide whether you’re content with throwing your money at a pipe dream or if you want to actually accomplish something.” Ethan is taller than him, but Mac manages to look down at him anyway—something he learned from Matty. “The choice is yours. Let me know when you’ve made it.”

Without waiting for a response, Mac shoves his hands in his pockets and walks away, praying he didn’t just ruin the whole op.

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@nikki-1607

@orange-cat-vet

@penny114

@redjedistarfighter

@sxrein

@tall-tanned-tattoo

@thecarrieonokay

@tom-hunter-summah

@whatsabex

#beth writes #looking through a window au #macriley #macgyver #macgyver fanfiction #angus macgyver #riley davis

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prinxlyart · 4 years

Note

I will say, I am hungry again and I have a few ask for your Willumity/Vinira headcannons. HOWEVER to be fair to you. This time I will restrain myself and simply ask for you to share any headcanons you want to share as of now!

You can ALWAYS ask for more Willumity.

A L W A Y S

But!! Since you’ve given me free reign to just play in this sandbox, that’s exactly what I’m gonna do

We all agree that Luz is hella ADHD. This girl will talk for HOURS about the shit she likes. If something grabs her attention, she wants to know everything about it. She doesn’t like being told to do things, but she loves being asked to do things. For example: if someone tells her she needs to do a thing her brain will immediately click into the “No” position and will refuse to budge. If someone asks her to do something, her brain clicks to “help? I can help? I can help with a thing for this person? Yes! I’ll help this person with this task because it will make them happy! Yes! I can help!” This is why acts of service resonate so strongly with her.

I don’t know what mental diversity looks like on the Boiling Isles considering how just. Horror-based everything is? But I’m 100% on that autistic Amity train. She has to do things a Certain Way or she’ll teeter on the edge of a meltdown. She refuses to touch/eat certain textures. She usually doesn’t know what the appropriate response/reaction is to a given conversation, especially with her socialite friends, which is why she just remains a cool mask of indifference. She’ll inspect every detail of anything that’s handed to her. She’s incredibly smart, but doesn’t always know how to convey what she knows and understands into words other people can understand. The only people allowed in her personal space are her siblings. Eventually that also stems to Luz and Willow, maybe more as she grows more comfortable with herself? But usually anyone getting in her space is overwhelming and alarming. Defo has a hard time regulating/processing her emotions.

I need to make an entire post dedicated to Augustus Porter because my boy deserves it, but I’ll toss some random things here. He has a signed poster from the head of the Illusionist Coven framed on his bedroom wall. He and his dad have bi-weekly after-dinner standup comedy sessions with each other (Perry has kept a secret journal of all of Gus’s best jokes he’s done over the years that he reads whenever he needs a pick-me-up).

Perry and Eda knew each other in school in passing. Their social circles overlapped but they were never hanging out in the same groups. When Gus is very little (like, maybe 3 or 4?), Perry takes him to the market to just wander around and they find Eda’s Human Collectibles Stand. She and Perry catch up, he introduces her to his son, and Eda (ever the saleswoman) pulls out some shiny human thing that Gus is immediately taken with. In between her and Perry catching up, Gus asks her a million questions about the thing he’s been given and then even more questions about other stuff at her stand. She actually finds it really fun to show off her human shit to someone so enthralled by it. She makes some stuff up here and there just to mess with him, but he’s too young to realize it’s a joke or not true, and takes everything at face value. We all know Eda likes to get a little theatrical with her sales pitches; she does the Salesperson act with everything Gus asks her about. She lets Gus take a couple items home just because he was such a riot and Perry insists he pay for something, but Eda just waves them off and tells him that this is just an investment in a lifelong customer. She had no idea how right she was because Gus defo became obsessed with human culture from that point on. He also picked up on Eda’s super theatrical sales pitches (because he thought it was funny and because he thought that’s just how you’re supposed to show human stuff to people) and began showing off his own “human collectibles museum” to his dad with the same theatrical voice. Perry plays along with this too (as a news anchor he’s got a great announcer voice) and ta-da! That’s how we get the boy we all know and love today. It’s 100% Eda’s fault, but Perry definitely encouraged it because it made his son so happy. That’s also why Gus doesn’t seem especially perturbed at meeting Eda for the first time in ep 3. Or for interjecting his new Human Knowledge in the moment she was patting Luz’s head. He’s used to having conversations with her about human junk whenever she has her stand up. Eda’s secretly relieved that one of Luz’s new friends is actually someone she kinda knows. It’s Perry’s kid, and Perry’s a good guy. His little squirt seems to be growing up to be pretty good too.

Eda scoffs at “nerdy” shit as if she hasn’t owned the Clawthorne Braincell her entire life. “She worked twice as hard” “-that just made me work harder than you!”. Eda’s extremely smart and extremely talented. She likely created the secret room of shortcuts entirely on her own. She probably studied in the school library constantly, but under the guise of causing mischief. And like. She probably did both. She was a potions track kid so she probably knew all the best ways to make stink bombs that she could leave hidden in the shelves. She hated school because she was so limited and stifled; she only wanted to learn magic and was told no at every turn. So when she learned magic on her own, yknow, without the guidance of a teacher, there’s bound to be some major fuck ups. Once she’s fine-tuned her mistakes though, she absolutely turns them into pranks. You say I’m not allowed to study multiple tracks, bumpikins?? Well how’s THIS!!! How’s THAT for focus??? (Half of her pranks were also just her showing off and desperately hoping to prove that she could learn any type of magic and couldn’t be constrained to just the one. Bump recognized this of course, but he had strict guidelines to follow and no Luz Noceda to call him out for it.)

Camila treasures her daughter more than life itself. I personally refuse to headcanon anything to do with her extended family or why she’s a single parent (too many variables and options that could be addressed in the show), but I do know that she loves Luz more than anything. It’s exhausting being a single mom, working as a nurse, and trying to be there for her ADHD daughter when the rest of the world doesn’t seem to want her. It hurts her so much to see her baby, the light of her life, her Luz, be brushed aside and written off as “the weirdo”, or bullied, or even outright hated by some people just because she’s a little different. She’s had to have some words with the school staff for how they treat her on occasion. Did you see that Principal’s death glare in the first ep?? He hates her. Camila’s there not just because she’s Luz’s parent, but also to act as a barrier between the principal and Luz. She would move Heaven and Earth for Luz, but it can be a lot when you’re the only adult around. I truly believe she wanted Luz to go to that camp to learn how to be friends with kids that didn’t already know her or her quirks. Even she sounded unsure of what they would do at that camp, but she had full faith that this would be Luz’s opportunity to make friends with other kids that could teach her to like....more mainstream stuff. So she could learn how to mimic their (hopefully, toned down) behaviors. She just wants her baby to be accepted by others.

This next one’s a doozy so hold on to your butts

Lilith is technically smart. And I mean that in a literal sense - she can read and understand the fundamentals of magic, the concepts and execution of complex spells, recite entire chapters of Boiling Isles history, you name it. Many adults in her youth called her gifted because of it. All she actually did was absorb the information and regurgitate it when asked. She thrived on the praise she received. What made her different from her sister is that she never wanted anything more than to do as she was told. Her biggest goal? Her dream job? Was to just be given orders by the Emperor. I’m sure there’s all sorts of flowery propaganda surrounding that, advertising how incredible it is to be in the Emperor’s Coven, what an honor it is to work alongside the witch that can speak to the Titan. But it’s literally just. Taking orders. And knowing you’re somehow better than everyone else because you’ve been selected to be among the elite. She never strived for anything more; she never wanted to do anything else but enforce the Emperor’s will because that was “the highest honor” a witch could have. As a result (or in conjunction rather) she lacks literally any amount of foresight. There’s only one braincell in the Clawthorne Family and her sister has it because this dumbass doesn’t think about anyone but herself. Instead of talking with Eda about what they should do when they were told there was only one spot left in the Emperor’s Coven, she walked away. Only thinking of how she could secure her victory. She didn’t ask Eda how she felt about the situation, she didn’t let Eda speak her mind about what her own desires were; Eda made it clear enough that she just wanted to be by Lilith’s side, she didn’t care what that meant. She just wanted to be with her big sister. Eda tried to reach out to her to discuss their cirumstances, but Lilith just walked away like the broody, self-centered teenager that she was and resolved to cheat her way to victory. When Eda knew this was her dream. Why would she think Eda would take away her dream???? She could’ve asked Eda to throw the duel? She could’ve asked her to fake the match? Or even fake sick? Or just not even shown up! If she didn’t show up it could’ve counted as a forfeit and Lilith would’ve earned the spot by default! But no, she had to ruin her sister’s entire life in an act of cowardice and dishonor because she’s so full of herself and didn’t read the fine print. She loves her sister, of course she does, but she’s so self-absorbed that she’s never seen Eda for who she actually is and wasted both of their lives as a result. And this is all just analysis of her character and that flashback, this isn’t even headcanons. I think if she has any amount of respect for her sister (she doesn’t), her redemption will have to go far far beyond an apology and taking on half the curse. When I say Lilith is a dumbass, this is specifically what I mean. She doesn’t think about how her actions will affect those around her. She was the Head of the Emperor’s Coven, literally one of the most powerful positions she could possibly be in on the Boiling Isles and still sacrificed Amity’s dignity and years of hard work just so she could be ensured that she could one-up her sister. She did this in front of everyone in attendance of that Witches Duel. She risked Amity’s credibility as a witch, as a Blight, and as a person just to fuel her own ego. It’s no wonder Amity was so upset; the witch she’s been idolizing her whole life didn’t think she had what it took to best a human that couldn’t do magic in a witches duel. That can fuck up your self esteem something fierce. And Lilith hardly seemed to give a shit!!!! She didn’t care that she just trashed Amity’s reputation in front of dozens of spectators!!!! I’m v bitter about Lilith as a character in case you couldn’t tell.

If I had to throw a headcanon in, I’ll toss one in that sterling and I have discussed: Lilith literally doesn’t know how to live her life as an independent adult. Sure, she knows how to like. Make herself some easy dinners? But that’s literally only because she used to make herself and Eda dinners when they were kids. Beyond that, she has no fucking idea. She can do the basic household chores any teenager knows how to do, but she’s lived in the Emperor’s Castle with the rest of the Coven since she joined. It’s kind of like living in a college dorm; food and a room is provided, there’s maybe a laundry service, she’s never had to pay taxes in her life (not that Eda does, but yknow). The only things she buys for herself (if she doesn’t make it herself) is her hair dye and books. When she first moves in to the Owl House, she has no idea how the household chores are done. She’s on House Cleaning Duty Eternally and the first......I’ll say year. Eda will wake her up by banging pots and pans over her head once every month and scream-singing about how it’s House Cleaning Day, pull out her lawn chairs and some lemonade, and she and Luz (and sometimes King) will just sit back and relax and watch the show that is Lilith trying to clean Hooty. Hooty does not like to cooperate with her (partially because Lilith is a special friend and partially because he knows how much joy it brings Eda and Luz to watch her struggle).

Oof I could go on but this is already one hell of a post huh? Sorry (not really) for dragging Lilith so hard; not a joke, tumblr made me split hers up into two bullet points because it couldn’t comprehend my ranting for so long in one bullet point. I do love sharing these with y’all though, they’re so much fun and I’m so glad you guys like my rambling. <3333

#prinxly inquiries #wam-hope #the owl house #toh headcanons #toh meta #luz noceda #amity blight #augustus porter #gus porter #perry porter #edalyn clawthorne #lilith clawthorne #camilia noceda #camila noceda #long post #lmao warning for y’all I defo drag Lilith through the mud in this one #finally an excuse to release all my pent up rage and explain why I think she’s such a dipshit

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artificialqueens · 3 years

Text

Gimme Love, 1/9 (Miz Cracker/Blair St Clair) - Grinder

AN: Welp! I started this back in March. It was supposed to be a oneshot and then I realised it was 200 odd pages. Whoops! Another songfic based on music by Joji. This one is Gimme Love, which some of you would probably know, it was circling TikTok for a while. Anyway, more song fics to come!! I hope y'all enjoy! Stay safe in these crazy times!

TW: Mental health, panic attacks

1993

"OK, so you got your apple juice, your finger sandwiches, and grapes. And most importantly, you got your best outfit on. Ready?"

No. I wasn't ready. They were going to eat me up. I knew just by how the 3 bitches off to the side stared and laughed. One of them was swinging from the bus stop pole. It sounded evil, but I hoped she would have fallen over.

"No." I clung to my Mother.

"Brianna." She uttered. She was tired, already having dealt with this before leaving the house. And it didn't help that Grandpa only laughed instead of helping out.

"No!" I said louder, squeezing my tiny fists into her shoulders.

"Look. Everything will be fine. The day will fly in, trust me. And I'll be right here when you get off the bus later." Mom continued.

She gave me a kiss on the forehead and shook me off.

As she smoothed her skirt down, I stamped my foot in a huff. For me, this was the second most ultimate betrayal that had ever happened to me. My Mom was making me go to school. How dare she.

"I love you, girl. Be good and have a great day." Mom said before walking away. My gaze followed, feeling the faucet in my eyes turn on. I was prone to cry baby behaviour around this age.

Now that my Mom was gone, it was all game for the bitches.

"Awww, the little baby needs her Mommy." One of them cooed in her fake voice. "Didn't you know the pre-school bus picks up two hours later?"

"Yeah!" Another decided to join in, "And I bet that's not even your real Mommy."

"She is too!" I clenched my tiny fists at my side. This was half true. I was an adopted child, but to me, Roberta was the best Mother I could have ever asked for. And no one had the right to question that.

"No, she's not! Your real Mommy didn't want you 'cause you're ugly!"

"Yeah, look at your hair. It looks like a fur ball."

"And your clothes are obviously hand me downs."

I stamped my feet again. "That's it! I'm giving you the finger!" I flipped them off. I picked it up from Mom, from the many time's drivers pissed her off. When she'd warn me never to do that, I knew it had some sort of power to it.

But it did nothing. The girls just laughed even more. I had no defences; therefore, I was left helpless.

The bus pulled up, and I was last to get in. The girls warned almost everybody to watch out for the "girl with the weird hair".

I moved down the middle of the bus, my head moving from side to side, hoping to find a seat.

Everybody with a free seat either put their bags on the chairs or put their feet up. I wanted to snap, demanding that they let me sit. But the fear inside rendered me silent.

I was nearing the back, where the 3 girls sat. They smirked upon seeing my face, relishing in the fact I was on the verge of tears. All I wanted was to turn back, get off the bus and lock myself in my house.

But as if someone above heard my innermost thoughts, that's when I heard it.

"Do you need a seat?"

I looked towards the voice. And I froze. There she was, an absolute angel. She looked like a Disney Princess with her bright blonde hair and blue eyes.

I hesitated for a moment. But the bus began to move. So I sat down next to her.

"Hi," I said.

"Hey." Her eyes were observing me, looking me up and down. And I felt even more stunned. "You have funny hair."

"My Mommy says I have lovely hair," I replied in defence.

"I didn't mean it in a bad way. I just never seen hair like that." The girl replied.

My hair wasn't even bad. I just had a massive head of untamed brown curls. Nothing out of the ordinary.

Then again, I had never seen anyone with hair like hers. She looked like she had gone to a salon beforehand. "Your hair looks golden."

"Thank you." She smiled. "I'm Blair. My favourite colour is yellow, and I wanna be a singer when I grow up. How about you?"

"I'm Brianna. My favourite colour is pink. And...I wanna be a politician someday."

"What's a pola...polatichon?" Blair asked.

"A politician." I corrected her. "I don't know what they do. They just shout a lot. And that's what I want to do."

Blair had no idea what I was talking about, but she laughed anyway. And that made my heart skip a beat.

I felt something pelt the back of my head. I grabbed it, looking at the small rolled up bit of my paper in my hand. It was wet. I had just been spitballed for the first time.

Blair looked over her shoulder, and I did the same. It was the three bitches from the bus stop. They weren't even hiding their giggles.

"Not nice." Blair stuck her tongue out at them. Then, turning back around in her seat, she put her hand on mine. "Don't worry about them. I'm your friend, Brianna."

"Really?" My eyes brightened.

"Of course!"

As much as that statement had made my heart soar, how it made me feel like there was nothing to be afraid of…

It was the biggest lie I heard that day.

As soon as I got off the bus at the end of the day, I waved to Blair, unaware that she would be sitting with the 3 bitches the next day.

And then it went on for years, being that ugly girl with weird hair. And it didn't help that I needed glasses later in life.

But I wasn't completely alone. So let me tell you about Jujubee.

2020

"Hey, asshole! I'm pulling in there!"

Jujubee was hanging out the driver side window, flicking the indicator aggressively.

"Juju, can you just...not do that?" I asked, my eyes glued to my phone as I checked how many people had seen my Instagram story. It was a picture of the two of us, showing off our outfits that had been gifted from Alexander McQueen.

"And let that asshole steal my spot? Absolutely not." Jujubee protested. She flipped the guy off, only to receive the same gesture back at her. She wasn't prone to behaving like this. I usually found it absolutely hilarious how loud she could be.

Now, you're probably wondering - two well-dressed ladies in their Alexander McQueen outfits should be seated in the back of a limo, sipping champagne.

I wasn't a fan of limos. They only drew attention.

And with Jujubee hurling dog abuse at the other drivers, I was sure the attention would be on us.

But we made it to the event without any trouble.

Jujubee was hilarious, intentionally and unintentionally. I learned that all the way back on my second day of school. When it was clear to me that I wouldn't be friends with anyone else, I ventured off on my own, exploring the playground and looking for bugs. But, instead, I found her sitting alone in the sandbox.

"Leave me alone. I'm trying to dig to the centre of the Earth." She had said, blowing her shiny black hair out of her face.

I knew she would only reach the bottom of the pit, so I laughed, and I helped her dig. We had been inseparable since.

We grew up together, all the way through elementary, high school and college. And through those years, we had one thing in common - we were the weird ones. The kids who everyone bullied.

Ugh, I hated that word; bullied. It made me feel pathetic and helpless. Jujubee and I, however? We were far from pathetic and helpless. After all, how would we even be where we were if that was the case?

OK, maybe I was pathetic and helpless growing up. No, I was. I had just accepted all the name-calling, the shoving, the damage. Jujubee, on the other hand, would fight against it all.

But back to the current situation. We were now sitting at a table with the other project workers. Everyone was having a great time, and the event hadn't even really begun yet. They passed jokes around, talked about trials and tribulations, and I laughed along.

But I may as well have been alone as I was stuck in my own thoughts. How it was even possible, we were all gathered here for this moment.

I looked at Jujubee, sitting next to me, and felt an overwhelming need to hug the shit out of her. If it weren't for her being so encouraging, then maybe this wouldn't have happened.

"What's up?" She caught me staring.

I lowered my head for a moment, breathing a laugh out through my nostrils. I didn't want to get sappy with her, even though she deserved my gratitude. My best friend, my ride-or-die bitch. Lifting my head again, I smirked. "Nothing. I'm just glad you're on this team." I raised my glass to her before sipping the bubbling champagne.

"Proud of you bitch." Jujubee reaching over and squeezed my free hand.

I was proud of me too. Because, despite all of the shit I dealt with in school, here I was, the manager and director of this whole operation.

All of the hard work paid off - years of trials and tribulations, so many arguments and disagreements. We finally did it. We found a gateway to another world, a parallel universe, a portal in the middle of the space just waiting to be explored.

Of course, people doubted me. They said things like, "Well, it is a dream, all right." How could anyone blame them?

But here we were.

The speaker, Michelle, called me up onto the stage to receive a certificate, all encased in a glass frame. I exchanged air kisses with her and graciously took the award. Jujubee cheered me on as I stood up there, letting people take pictures.

And then came the obligatory speech.

I couldn't lie; I hated public speaking. It was always something I struggled with. But, I never backed down from one. I just liked to keep them short and sweet.

"Long story short, I had dreams, and I worked towards them. So, here I am, an example of the walking embodiment of success. And I thank each and every one of you, ladies and gentlemen. Have a great night."

Short and sweet. The crowd applauded.

Yes, I was told in the past that I'm arrogant, but I disagreed. I'd say confident. And there was nothing wrong with confidence. After all, there has been a stigma around that word. Doesn't it come from a sense of insecurity, the need to tear successful people down because you're afraid to strive towards your goals?

I deserved to feel this successful, for all those times I was laughed at and ridiculed. I look down on all those assholes and let them know that I made it.

I posed for pictures as I held my award, knowing they would be everywhere the next day; in the papers, magazines, the Internet.

This wasn't the first award I had received. I had a shelf full back home, along with all of my past badges. They reminded me that, once upon a time, I was just any other office worker with her yellow badge. And now here I was, the director of the project with my black badge working closely with the government.

I got off the stage and moved back to my chair. Jujubee rolled her eyes, but her smile remained.

"Where's the after-party?" I asked as the audience shifted their attention from me.

Sometimes I never understood how she put up with me. "Don't worry. I got us covered."

She wasn't lying. A few hours later, we were in the apartment of some other rich somebody. Music was bouncing off the walls, the speakers apparently on full blast.

The main lights were out, replaced with multicoloured LEDs dancing around the place. It was as if we were in our own private club.

Jujubee and I were in the crowd dancing, but because I was absolutely wasted, I lost her many times.

No need to panic, however. Jujubee wasn't a drinker. So she'd find me. She always did.

I really did feel sorry that she had to deal with all of my shenanigans.

"Juju, where the fuck are you??" I roared, not that it would do much. Midsummer Madness by 88RISING was blaring now. Starting to stress out now.

I grabbed a champagne flute as a waiter walked by.

"Brianna, I love the dress." A woman leaned over and shouted in my ear. I had met her before at another event, a fashion reporter if I remembered correctly.

"Thanks. It's Versaci."

As I said earlier, it was fucking Alexander McQueen. I was faded.

Somehow I ended up in the bathroom, throwing up all the alcohol I had consumed into the toilet. After I finished, I washed my mouth out, looked at my reflection and said, "Baby, you're a star."

And somehow, I made it back downstairs. I was searching for Jujubee but found someone else instead. And it was fucking Ed Sheeran.

"I love your new song." I lied.

"Which one?"

"The new one." I smiled. "Hey, Ed. You wanna be the first person to go through the portal?" I wrapped an arm around him.

He looked absolutely taken aback. "Of fucking course. My manager will be in touch."

I really hoped he was joking. Why the fuck had I even suggested it?

I felt a hand on my shoulder. It was Jujubee. My nerves settled, and I leaned closer to her. "Let's go outside."

I had no recollection of making it out to the balcony. The only thing I remembered happening before then was rambling to many strangers about how much I adored Jujubee.

A few other party attendees were outside too. I wanted to tell them how I didn't deserve Jujubee and that she was an angel. But she quickly steered me away.

I looked out over the city, a happy smile on my face.

"Are you having fun, baby girl?" Jujubee asked, using her favourite pet name for me. She sparked up a cigarette. I wanted to ask her for one, having gone from chain smoker to social smoker in recent years. But I was too distracted by the view.

"Yeah. I can feel it, Juju." I replied, looking at my hands. It was almost like I could actually feel it. The euphoric feeling of success running in my veins. "Good things are coming."

"Oh, I feel it too." Jujubee blew out the smoke and followed my gaze. "You know what? Your Grandpa was a great guy. And I know that he's proud of you."

My smile dropped. And I was silent.

I preferred to avoid speaking about things like this. Emotions weren't something I liked to deal with - another difference between Jujubee and me.

Just the year prior, we both went to see Midsommar. During the scene where the main character is having a breakdown on the ground surrounded by the Hargan woman screaming along with her, Jujubee was captivated. She looked almost like she wanted to scream along with them. And as she squeezed my hand and leaned over to me, she said, "I need someone to do that with me." I replied with a quiet, "Can't relate."

I'm not insensitive. I just feared emotions for two reasons.

1. They could be weaponised against me. And as much as I tried not to let the online hate get to me, I knew that if it ever became personal, then it would hit difficult.

2. The most important reason of all; a childhood full of breakdowns and too many emotions.

Jujubee nudged me. "You wanna go?"

I didn't want to. But I said, "Yeah. I'm...so drunk right now," and turned away from the city view.

"Can I be that annoying whore and ask if I can stay at your place?" Jujubee asked, taking my hand.

She didn't even need a reason. "Yes, you can."

We waded our way through the crowd, made for the door and left. And before I knew it, we were back at my place, lying in my bed. I loaned her a t-shirt to sleep in. I wanted to sleep in my Alexander McQueen. But Jujubee wouldn't let me.

We both lay there, facing the ceiling. I could already feel the oncoming suffering. Usually, I loved moments like these, when time became fluid, when I didn't have to worry about how I had even gotten home.

But my head was pounding, and the loud ringing in my ears was the cause. If I was bad now, I'd be dead by morning.

I could feel Jujubee's eyes on me, and I looked back at her. She was smiling, her brown eyes glimmering. "Almost there, girl."

Despite the pain I was in, I smiled back. I knew this whole thing, the thingy, the portal; it wasn't just my dream. It was hers too.

Fuck, I was hammered.

"Almost there," was all I could manage to say.

Jujubee turned on her side and treated me to some cuddly spooning. "OK, go to sleep, loser."

It was straining on my neck, but I kept my head turned, letting my eyes linger for a moment longer. God, I fucking loved that bitch. Nothing was ever going to come between us, and that made me the happiest.

I turned over, my back relaxing against her torso. Then, before giving in to my exhaustion, I checked my phone. The bright light made me squint at first. And the alcohol in my system didn't help matters.

I checked how many people had seen my story now. The number was blurry. So I aimlessly swiped notifications away.

But I stopped at one message in particular.

Blair: Hey Brianna! Long time no speak. I just wanted to say I saw pictures from your thing tonight. Congrats, girl! Look, I know you're probably super busy, but I'd love to have a catch up with you sometime.

"..." My eyes were wide. Now that was a name I hadn't heard in a long time.

1995

"Do you see Cassiopeia yet?" Juju whined.

I was trying my hardest to find it in the telescope. But the stars were all in clutters; there were so many. "No. I think I see the big dipper, though."

"Really? Let me have a turn!" Juju begged.

I pulled away from the telescope, allowing Juju her turn. Usually, I would have refused, only letting her use the scope after finding what I was looking for.

I really hadn't found the big dipper, but Juju bought it. "Wooooow. That's so cool."

"I know, right?" I smirked.

The backdoor opened, and Grandpa came out in his winter jacket, pj's and his signature slippers. "How many have you girls found now?"

He was carrying two mugs of hot chocolate with whipped cream. I cheered excitedly because Grandpa's hot chocolate was the best, and I'd fight anyone who tried to tell me otherwise.

"We found the big dipper. But that's it." Juju replied, sounding very much let down.

"Don't lose hope," Grandpa gave us our hot chocolate, "some are harder to find than others. I bet there are a lot more constellations out there that haven't even been discovered yet."

I sipped the hot drink, and I could feel it already warming me up. I was so tempted to take my gloves off and let the mug warm them up. But we promised my Mom we would stay wrapped up. "Do you think we could discover one?"

Grandpa took a seat on one of the old deck chairs. "Brianna, you can do anything you set your mind to. Anything is possible."

"One day, I wanna get into a rocket ship and fly away," I said, looking up at the night sky, imagining the scene in my head.

"Hey, Mr Caldwell, are there other people like us? Just looking up at the sky?" Juju asked, taking a sip of her hot chocolate.

"That's an interesting question. I'd say yes, what with how nice the sky is tonight," Grandpa let his gaze trail up, the stars reflecting in his eyes, "But did you know, somewhere far, far away, there are two little girls who are exactly like you. They look the same, they talk the same and even have your names. And they are doing exactly what you're doing right now."

My brows knit in confusion, "what do you mean 'far far away?"

Grandpa looked down again, seeing how intrigued Juju and I was. "Let's just call it the other world. It's basically like our world, but...certain things are different. Like," he paused to think, "maybe cats bark and dogs meow. Or, maybe the sky is pink and not blue. Maybe you girls are actually older, and I'm the young one."

"Do horseys fly in the other world?" Juju asked with much optimism.

"Probably. I don't see why not." Grandpa shrugged.

I glanced up at the sky as if I would somehow just see it. Another world where life was somewhat better.

"Would my Mommy and Daddy have given me up in the other world?" I asked quietly.

Grandpa was silent. His lips were pursed, forming a tight line like there were words on the tip of his tongue that he knew he shouldn't say.

Juju hugged me from the side. I wanted to hug her back but didn't want to cry.

Her hold made me feel safe, so I offered her a half-smile.

Since my first day at school, when those cretins had tried to tell me Roberta wasn't my real Mom, it stuck with me. Yeah, I knew deep down those girls didn't know shit, and Roberta was the best Mother in the world, but I was only human.

As much as I loved my Mom, Grandpa and other family members, I just wanted to feel acceptance from my biological parents.

"Brianna, honey, whoever your family is in the other world, I'm sure they love you from the bottom of their hearts. Just like we do." Grandpa said. He extended his arms out, offering me a hug.

I didn't want it. But I knew I needed it.

That night, we didn't find any constellations. Not that it mattered. After my Grandpa went back inside, Juju and I were set on finding the other world instead.

And this interest went on for nearly a whole year.

It sounded dumb, but we would play games where we were our 'other world selves'. Juju lived in a house full of cats, and they were 'cutest cats in the whole country. So cute they won every pageant!'

And I lived in a huge mansion with my Mom, Grandpa, and my biological parents.

We collectively agreed that our other world selves were the prettiest girls in school, and we had tons of friends. We were so cool, we didn't even have to go to school.

Of course, this started a minor argument between us. Juju would always say, "how can we be the prettiest girls at school if we don't have to go to school??"

"Shut up, Juju! Anything is possible in the other world!"

"Yeah, but it doesn't make sense!"

All of it was so ridiculous. But we loved every minute of it.

I'll never forget the time we built a fort in the woods at the back of my house, and Juju stood under the archway and shouted. "I'm the queen of 'Other World'. Beware ye bastards who enter our domain!"

Then she got upset because she said a bad word and thought she had betrayed her parents.

A few minutes later, I fucked up.

"I, Brianna Caldwell, am the Queen of 'Other World'. I sit on this throne along with my best friend, Blair St Clair!"

Juju was even more upset now.

"Why is she your best friend?? I'm your best friend!" She began to cry.

"Jujubee, it's only pretend." I tried to reason with her.

"No, Brie-Brie. You're always talking about Blair! I know you would rather be best friends with her than me!"

"That's not true!"

"It is!" She wept. "She'll never be your friend, Brie-Brie. She doesn't even like you."

"Take that back!"

"No!"

My anger was bubbling beyond the boiling point. So I shoved her over. "Go away. Now!"

Juju ran off crying.

My teeth were grit, my fists clenched. For about 5 minutes, I stormed around the fort, screaming in anger and kicking the ground.

Mom was freaked out. She knew it was me screaming, so she came running. When she found me, she shouted at me for scaring the absolute fuck out of her.

This only pissed me off more. It took her 5 minutes to get me to chill out.

When I finally explained what happened, she told me it was OK and that we'd be friends again the next day.

It didn't help my mood, so she took me to the mall. It was a rare occasion for us to visit the place. We weren't the richest, what with Mom struggling to keep a job. She wasn't a lousy worker; someone else would just come along who was much more experienced. And without another parental figure to help out, it just meant not much money was being brought into the house.

But Mom decided we'd go to the toy store, and I'd find two dolls, one for me and one for Juju. I made sure they looked exactly like us. Well, considering the nice clothes and great hair, they were our other-selves.

And leaving the building, I was perched on Mom's shoulders, eating the biggest ice cream cone I had ever gotten, when I looked over at the jewellery shop. Two women were leaving the store, holding hands. They leaned in close to each other and kissed.

I just...stared as they smiled at each other, mesmerised by the adoration they so clearly shared.

"Mommy?"

"Yes, Brianna, baby?"

"Why are those two ladies kissing?"

Mom cast a quick glance to where I was looking. "Oh. OK, first of all, don't stare. It's rude. But yeah, they're just two ladies in love with each other. That's all."

I looked away, just as she told me to do. "They're in love? I thought only boys and girls could be in love."

"I guess they're still telling you that in school, huh?" Mom quipped. "Well, I'll tell you this, but keep it on the down-low 'cause I don't want no parents coming and knocking on my door saying you're putting ideas into their kids' heads." She laughed. "The truth is; boys can fall in love with boys, and girls can fall in love with girls. You fall in love with whoever your heart tells you to, Brianna."

I nodded. "Uh, huh. OK, I understand." But then, it hit me. "Fuck."

"Brianna." Mom warned. She knew I was prone to sometimes spurting a few cuss words. But she only had herself to blame.

"Sorry, Mommy." And as we left the mall, my brain couldn't stop thinking about what had popped into my head.

Maybe, just maybe, I was in love with Blair.

My mind was taking me back to years prior, still in my first year of elementary school. It was coming up to Valentine's Day, and we all had to make a card for someone in the class. Bit of a weird activity for a bunch of kids who were more concerned if they were getting bikes for Christmas or not.

And I slaved over my card, making it yellow instead of the traditional pink colour, and drawing daisies all over it.

The message read, "You really deserve this. You're welcome." I've always been a poetic genius.

And instead of giving it to any of the boys, I insisted it went to Blair.

I had vague memories of that day. I only remembered her confused face as I handed it over.

I never received a card in return.

Of course, the other kids picked on me for it. But Juju had my back.

"You're all just jealous 'cause Brie-Brie's card is unique!" I remember her shouting.

But of course, they weren't jealous. This concept was foreign to them - a girl gifting another girl with a Valentine's Day gift. But then again, they just didn't know any better.

#rpdr fanfiction #s10 #miz cracker #jujubee #blair st clair #blair x cracker #fluff #coming of age #hurt/comfort #lesbian au #gimme love #grinder #concrit welcome #tw panic attacks #tw mental health issues

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fluxedbuds · 4 years

Note

hey, I have trouble explaining this, but story-based minecraft series as a medium have a really different feel than anything else, and are incredibly fascinating in their use of a sandbox game as a setting and delivery system for a story that often has VERY little to do with the base game. you dig?

Well, anon, I dug you so hard that I made a short essay!

Oh, absolutely! Arguably it’s one of the more limiting sandbox games- there’s only so much you can do without making custom mods and models, and even then there’s a style you have to stick to. Story Mode tries to go beyond some of those limits with, uh, face animation, and it’s awful and everyone hates it! The character animation in general honestly breaks the limits too, and it looks Weird. Having these blocky limbs suddenly curve is jarring and looks unnatural. So you’re left with a game where you can’t make different faces, you can’t have much detail on your models or builds, it’s really like legos. It doesn’t sound ideal for storytelling at all.

And I think, that’s what makes it so damn good when a story works! The limitations force creativity, and leave enough gaps for a fanbase to fill in themselves, without feeling like it’s a plothole or missing information. It’s a game-base where making things more realistic looks bad, like with MCSM’s bendy limbs. Having a character just suddenly snap into a sitting position is going to feel more natural than having a normal transition animation.

Other stories, even stories made in other sandbox games instead of an independent medium, are going to feel wildly different because they have different sets of limitations. Garry’s Mod, for example, seems like a shit sandbox for telling a story, because there’s not enough limitations. You can just make a Miku the size of godzilla in half a minute, like, what the fuck story could you tell thats better than just doing That for an hour and laughing your ass off

I think thats part of what makes Story Mode fall flat, too- they don’t get creative enough. They stay too much in the world of the base game, when the base game is quite literally just an empty world to shape. It’s like a stage, and it’d be a real shit play if they just kept referencing the fact that theres curtains and lights, yknow? It’s fun if you sprinkle in little winks to the audience about it being on a stage, maybe even add in a few nods to it for comedy, but if the only things you’re working with are directly derived from the stage itself, it’s gonna be weird and boring!

#im so mad at MCSM's wasted potential #ive thought about this a lot before tho tbh

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teffyjeffy · 5 years

Text

(Most of) JoJo’s Bizzare Adventure: Stardust Crusaders but almost everybody are kids having fun at recess.

Want a random JoJo post out of nowhere? No? Okay well here you go anyway!

A lot of the time when I was watching JJBA I felt like I was watching a very dramatic retelling of what was actually two kids playfighting.

“My guy punches super fast!” “Oh yeah? Well my guy can stop Time!” “Oh yeah?! Well, mine can too! I just discovered it!” “WELL MINE CAN DROP A ROADROLLER ON YOU” “THATS CHEATING”

Anyway, the idea started to snowball, so please enjoy my masterpost of (most of) JJBA Part 3 where the Stardust Crusaders are a group of 9 year old rascals who met up one day during recess. This is just for fun ^_^ also these are all copied and pasted from discord so the structure is a little jumbled. Enjoy!

Oh, and Spoilers are ahead.

“I can punch super fast!”

“Well I can use cameras and TVs as crystal balls, but I need to break them!”

“Mine can shoot flames, ooo ooo and-and I can control them at will!”

“Mine has a sword that can stab anything”

“MINE HAS AN ATTACK THAT IS UNBLOCKABLE AND ITS AREA EFFECT IS THE WHOLE PLAYGROUND-“

“No Kakyoin that’s not how we play. Youre not allowed to have an invincible attack”

Kakyoin’s introduction:

“I have an invincible attack”

“That’s not how it works Kakyoin but you’re cool, so you can keep playing with us”

The insect stand “Tower of Gray” was when the group was bothered by a fly on the school bus and they got a little too rowdy in their attempts to kill it, which pissed off the elderly bus driver. Thus the kids agreed that he was responsible for bringing the fly onto the bus in the first place. They got detention.

Jean Polnareff’s introduction:

“I have a sword that can pierce through anything!”

“Okay Jean, you can play with us, but you have to promise to stop pushing Avdol into the wood chips, he doesn’t like it.”

The stowaway girl is actually a 5 year old girl who wants to play with them and they hate it at first but they eventually warm up to her. The monkey with a ship stand was actually a retelling of the groups trip to the town’s public swimming pool. The boat was just an inflatable tube and the monkey was a chipmunk. And the original boat that blew up? That was the group’s original inflatable tube that got popped because the 5 year old wouldn’t stop gnawing at it

Later, the kids SOMEHOW convinced their parents to let them stay in the same hotel while the parents all hate business trips to go to. They “promised” not to pillow fight, then everyone except for Jean went to go get snacks while Jean went to explore the new room. Unbeknownst to them, the previous guests of the room accidentally left their daughter’s doll behind. Jean HATES dolls. He accidentally stumbled upon Child’s Play when he was surfing channels way too late at night without his parents knowing. Fear turns into aggression and someone from the hotel staff goes to check on him. He finds Jean and realizes it’s the same kid who shot him with a water gun earlier. Jean is kicked out and the parents have to pick their kids up. Jotaro and everyone else weren’t happy.

Rubber Soul is actually just that one bratty kid who thinks it’s sooooooooo funny to mimic other people while also making fun of the person they’re mimicking. It makes them feel “powerful.” Jotaro encounters Rubber Soul when the latter is mocking Kakyoin one day, while Jotaro is playing with the 5 year old; he then chases Rubber Soul all around the playground, and when he finally gets him, he busts his teeth in. They were only baby teeth though, they grew right back, which saved Jotaro from a brutal punishment. He was still forced to go without dessert for a month. He didn’t complain though because his mother was dealing with the flu at the time. He would give all his desserts to Kakyoin, which his how Jotaro discovered Kakyoin’s creepy habit of juggling maraschino cherries in his mouth.

J. Geil was somebody who used to play games with Jean’s sister. When she found out he sucked at party cake and teased him for having “Two left hands”, J pushes her into the mud and never plays with her again. Jean has held a grudge ever since.

Hol Horse is Geil’s “New friend” which pisses off Jean. Hol Horse, being a member of the wrong crowd, beats up Avdol and J. Geil just goes along with it. Jean is all “Avdol why are you even here, you had nothing to do with this!” And Kakyoin’s like “Should we call 911?” And Jean responds “Not yet, I need to beat up these guys first!” And Kakyoin calls 911 anyway.

The Mirror stand is just J. Geil going “Made you look” and punching your shoulder.

And Hol Horse’s stand is just a nerf gun. The reason it hurts is because he likes to get right up in your face before firing it. It’s ineffective if you’re too far away from him, because the dart bullet loses momentum and hits the ground harmlessly.

Jean eventually gets back at J. Geil by chasing him into the middle of a group of kids, then pointing up at nothing, shouting “Made you look,” and poking J. Geil in the eyes, which causes him to cry like a baby. And later, Jean is like “Oh yeah, I totally stabbed him with my sword!” when Jotaro asks him what happened.

Then Hol horse runs away because he realized J. Geil was a total loser.

The Empress stand was just Joseph’s retelling of his parents taking him to the doctor’s office so they could deal with a wart on his arm. He hated how boring the actual process was, so he pretended that he bested the wart in a game of wits and tore it asunder. Jotaro was grossed out.

(Btw in this AU Joseph is only a grade older than Jotaro, instead of being his grandpappy)

Wheel of Fortune is just the result of a very nasty game of tag with a brat who wouldn’t leave the group alone.

Enya is the crazy cat lady at the end of the street whose house the kids were forced to pass one day when they missed the school bus.

Steely Dan is the snobby “Cool Kid” of the playground, and a sore loser when the kids don’t play the way he wants them to. So Jotaro gives him a black eye.

The Sun is a kid who likes to fry ants with a magnifying glass. But Joseph likes bugs, and seeing this made him cry. So Jotaro, Kakyoin and Avdol plot to destroy the magnifying glass, which they thought was really funny. But at that point, the magnifying glass had to be returned to the science lab, so the kid was spared.

Or, in another interpretation:

“Hey guys, I wanna play! My guy’s power is that he’s literally the sun!!! ”

Joseph: “Wow, that’s pretty powerful-“

J,K,&A: “YOUR POWER IS STUPID, GET LOST”

Death Thirteen was the result of the kids being forced to deal with a baby who was throwing a tantrum while they all waited to get on the giant slide at the County Fair. Kakyoin was especially pissed.

I have nothing for the Judgement stand.

I don’t have anything for High Priestess either.

And Iggy is still a dog, but I’m getting rid of his tendency to fart because I just HATE IT

N’Doul isn’t blind, he wears glasses and can’t see shit without them. And he has a water pistol. And he hoards the playground’s sandbox.

Oingo and Boingo are a 6 year old and his 1 year old brother and they’re just the cutest little demon spawns.

Anubis is a dog that snatched Jean’s toy sword in its mouth, and the sword’s power to transfer souls was just Jean fearing that the dog had rabies. Jotaro rolled his eyes but convinced Joseph to help him buy a new toy sword to shut Jean up.

Mariah... I dunno man, I didn’t really care for her arc and it definitely doesn’t fit the “kids playground” scenario I’m going for.

ALESSI IS WRITTEN OUT COMPLETELY. HE IS NOT ALLOWED ON THE PLAYGROUND.

The D’Arby brothers are known for being the cheaters of the playground. So Jotaro scares the eldest brother in a game of Go Fish, and it messes D’Arby up so much that it triggers his Asthma and he he has an Asthma attack.

Pet Shop went down as the day when Iggy had a fight with a seagull and got pecked the ever loving SHIT out of. Jotaro tells the story at every Christmas party.

The younger D’Arby battle happened on a day when he and Jotaro were playing video games together. They accused each other of cheating, which resulted in Jotaro insulting him for liking dolls before pummeling him and consequently getting kicked out of the house. Joseph gave him a high five though, so it was worth it.

Vanilla Ice was the toddler who didn’t bother to move out of the way if you got in his path while he was driving his toy mini jeep. But if you asked Jean or Avdol, they’ll tell you that the toddler deliberately puts people in his path to run them over. And the occasional dog.

And finally, DIO.

DIO was a kid who got transferred to Jotaro’s school after being expelled because the principal of DIO’s previous school couldn’t get him to leave two of the students alone, by the names of Johnathan and Erina. He was pen pals with Johnathan, but that was the only connection DIO bothered to maintain.

Jotaro thought DIO didn’t even deserve the title of “School Bully.” He thought DIO was just a weird freaking kid. Despite that, most of the kids were scared of him, Jotaro’s friends included.

DIO loved to utilize the classic “Time Out!” whenever he played with the kids, and if they didn’t abide to the time out, they got a knuckle sandwich.

Jotaro was the first kid in a long time to just say “Nope.”

That’s when he learned that DIO was a kid who liked to screech like a banshee when things didn’t go his way. As well as throw a whole bunch of pencils (seemingly from out of nowhere) at any person that he upset with.

The road roller in this AU is the closest thing to a lethal heavy weapon that you can get on the playground: a frickin BIKE.

And DIO is like “TIME OUT SO I CAN SLAM THIS BIKE ON YOU” And Jotaro goes “Nope, your time out is cancelled because you’re a freak and also you tried to bite Joseph which was just gross, anyway-“ and he punched DIO in the leg, pushed him to the ground, and kicked woodchips in his face.

They both got expelled.

A few years later, on his way to middle school, Jotaro bumps into a kid named Josuke...

<============ TO BE CONTINUED

BONUS JJBA BATTLE TENDENCY

The Pillar Men are a reflection of the infamous day when three highschool bullies showed up to the playground. One of them beat a kid named Ceasar in a Rock Paper Scissors match; in responce, Joseph (who at the time was only 4) went apeshit. He kicked the first highschooler off of the carousel at the County Fair. Then he located the second highschooler, tied up his shoelaces, then lit them with a match. Finally, during the school’s annual science fair, he tracked down the third highschooler, who had just finished rigging a student’s baking soda volcano to blow up in his face. Joseph threw a bunch of rocks that he found outside at the highschooler, and then proceeded to lock him up in the school’s astral observatory. The first two highschoolers fled town after that, but rumor has it that the third one is still stuck in the abandoned observatory.

#jjba #jojo part 3 #stardust crusaders #au #jotaro #dio #kakyoin #avdol #joseph joestar #iggy

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fallen029 · 7 years

Text

Parenthood. Beach Retreat.1

"You're a baby, Pike. That's how come you have to sit in Mommy's lap."

"Nate," Mira sighed. "Leave your brother alone."

It was true enough. Pike, at all of three years old, was being a baby. Nate was sure even he would have to admit that. The thing was though that Pike just didn't like change. Or being new places. And, as it was, he was going to a very new place.

They were riding a train which, usually wasn't that big of deal. They'd just go to another town to have lunch or shopping or something and be back home before nightfall. That wasn't the case that day as they'd taken not only luggage with them, but also all his aunts and uncles. Ever and Elfman and Lisanna and Bickslow. Even Freed was somewhere on the train.

Not sitting with them though. They were off in other parts of the train. He could see Elfman and Evergreen, only a few rows over, but Bickslow and Lisanna were nowhere to be found. He saw them and Freed board though.

Oh. And his cousin Mace was with them. He was sitting with them. Across from him, in fact, with his brother Nate. Pike was sitting in his mother's lap, snuggled up to her. Another huge cause of his anxiety was probably his father, who was next to him, white knuckled and looking queasy. He was never good at riding on the train, but the one they were on that day seemed to be rather long and watching the man was not putting Pike at ease.

At all.

Then, of course, there was the fact that he didn't know where his poor doggy was. They'd taken him with them, but when they got there, they had to put him in a cage which, for the record, the dog had not liked. Pike and Nate hadn't liked it much either. Or Mace. It wasn't fair. Their doggy was just as much a part as the family as any of them. How could they shove him in a crate and just forget about him?

Huh?

Pretty easily for Nate.

Err, rather, Laxus had explained to the boy that there was nothing they could do, it was protocol, and yes, fine, Natsu's stupid cat got to ride on the train, but what could Laxus do? Their dog didn't talk. He was just an animal.

Which Pike didn't like. Though Nate seemed to find a difference between Carla, Happy, and Lily from their doggy, he did not see one at all. So what? They had wings and possessed human characteristics. What difference did it make? Their doggy was their best friend! How could they ditch him?

"It's true," Nathan argued with Mira. "He's being a baby. And it's not-"

"Nathan," Laxus growled though he didn't open his eyes or move from his slouched position. "Leave your brother alone. And don't argue with your- Oh jeez."

Nathan and Mace both snickered as the slayer shifted, moaning loudly. Mirajane though just reached over with the hand that wasn't snuggling Pike to rub the man's arm.

"You okay, dragon?"

Grunt.

"I know you wanted to use your Lightning Body, but it was just too long a distance. I didn't want you to get stuck somewhere or use up all your magic or-"

"Demon," he groaned. "Just shut up."

"You're not nice," Nathan complained from his seat across from them. "Don't be mean."

"Nate, just let him be," Mira hummed as Pike nuzzled his head against her chest. "We'll only be on this train for a bit longer. Then you boys will get to see just how great this vacation will be."

Pike wasn't so sure. They'd never gone on such a big trip before with everyone. And though Mira kept insisting it was a vacation, he was concerned that they'd packed so much. Not to mention the last straggler that had come along.

"You don't look too well, boy," Makarov remarked as he happened to pass the aisle then, coming from the bathroom no doubt. "Don't tell me you need me to sit here and hold your hand?"

"Screw off, Gramps," Laxus growled though Nate, Mace, and Pike all wanted the man to come sit with them. He could probably fit between the older two boys, on their side of things, but with a snicker and a look from Mirajane, the elderly man went on.

He was just lucky that he was allowed to come with them on the vacation, really. Laxus had been stark against it at first, but somehow, he'd weaseled his way in. It wasn't every day that the old man got a free trip down to a beach house to spend some great time with his great-grandsons.

Not to mention all those bikini-clad women…

Hehehe.

After the man walked off, Pike whine some more before closing his eyes and praying for sleep. That's all he wanted then. To go to sleep. And he did.

The next time he awoke it was to Mirajane setting him down.

"Can you walk?" he heard her ask as his eyes, still heavy with sleep, struggled to open. "Mommy's gotta carry something else."

When he forced his eyelids opened finally he found that they were no longer on the train. Instead, they were at the station everyone gathered around then. He could hear Bickslow snickering loudly and teasing Aunt Ever as she hissed in return though most of her words were directed at Elfman as she complained about having to carry one of her bags.

There was a far more important noise though that took the three-year-old's attention.

"Hi!" He was animated then as he ran the short distance from Mirajane (she had her arms full of luggage and wasn't able to grab him) and over to where his father was, their prized dog with him. On a leash though which he knew the doggy hated, but what could be done? "Hi!"

"Pike," Laxus grumbled. "You don't run from your mother."

Nate was there with him too, petting the dog. He had his little backpack of some of his stuff on his back. Mace did as well. At the sight of his brother, Nate moved to hand off a much smaller backpack that was on the ground next to him.

"Here, Pike," he said. "You gotta carry your own stuff. Else you get a spankin'."

"What?" Mira was over there then and glared at Laxus. "Did you tell them that?"

"I… Demon, shush. We gotta go. Is everyone- Damn it, Bickslow. Leave Ever alone and get your shit. We're leaving."

"Watch your mouth, dragon," Mira said, giving him a look before looking down at the boys. To Pike, she said, "Mommy has to help carry stuff. Can you carry your little bag, baby? And hold onto Master's hand?"

Huh! Gramps! How had he forgot about the man? When he took to looking around he found him standing with Lisanna and rushed over to him to do just that. Daddy seemed like he was taking care of the doggy, after all.

"Hello, boy," Makarov greeted as the little boy slipped a hand into his. "You have a good rest?"

Meh. He'd had better. Not to mention, though he'd gotten a boost from seeing his doggy, he was starting wind back down. He was sleepy.

After explaining this to Gramps in his broken English, the old man let him ride up on his shoulders to save him from walking so much. Laxus scolded him when he saw it, said that Gramps was too old to carry him around, but Makarov only waved the younger man off.

Pike really liked his grandfather. He was very funny. And it made Nate so jealous to see him on the man's shoulders. It was great.

"Wow," Bickslow remarked when, after walking for what felt like ever, they arrived at the place. "This is great. How do you know this guy again, Ever?"

"Yes," Freed remarked as they all came to a stop in front of the beach home. "What sort of person just offers up such a place like this for free?"

"Someone who owed me a favor," she remarked as she sat what was in her arms down before bounding up the stairs, digging her key out of her pocket to let them in. "That's all."

"Favor, huh?" Lisanna, who was standing with her boyfriend, elbowed him. "What sorta favor would spark something like this? Hmm?"

"That is what I'm wondering."

Elfman frowned at them. "What are you implying?"

"Not that this isn't fun," Laxus grumbled, "but I gotta take a leak."

That was the only thing that the little boys understood and it made them all giggle. Mirajane only frowned at her husband though.

"Behave," she said as, after dropping what she was carrying, she moved to go take Pike off his grandfather's shoulders. "All of you. We have another week and a half together. Don't start fighting now."

Pike was most interested in all the sand that was everywhere. He'd played in sandboxes before, but this was his first time at a beach. On the walk there he'd seen the ocean and, man, it looked so big. And scary. Nerve-wracking.

Not for Nate though. He and Mace were far more concerned with the house as, just from the front of it, it was impressive. It had a huge front deck and looked bigger than either of the boys'. Considering Nate lived in a tiny apartment with his parents, brother, and dog while Mace lived in a tiny home with his father and mother (an old one at that which was previously owned by Mirajane, that had been practically ancient even then), the house was a mansion as far as they were concerned. It even had a second floor!

"Come on then," Ever sighed as she got the door open. "Let's- Hey! Don't you all run me over!"

Laxus was though, gonna run over all of them if he had to. He needed to get to a bathroom and fast.

"He's silly, huh?" Mirajane giggled to Pike who just watched in shock.

In his rush Laxus had dropped the dog's leash and, overjoyed by this, the doggy took to running in right behind all the others.

"Wow!" When he got in there, Nathan ran right through the front room to an open, connecting one. The entire back wall was glass, giving them the perfect view of the ocean beyond. "Look! Mommy!"

"I see," she giggled as he left his face pressed against the glass, Mace rushing to do the same. Ever had to grin too as Elfman got left lugging all the baggage the others had dropped outside into the house.

"So," Bickslow asked as he took to looking around, his wooden babies following Lisanna as she went to look around the place. "What's the room situation?"

"Elf and I get the biggest one," Ever said. "We already talked about that. You all remember that."

Her saying that stemmed mainly from the fact that they all knew if Laxus claimed pre-eminence, they would all give it to him and Mirajane. No matter how old they got, he'd always be the top in the Thunder Legion's hearts.

"Yeah," they heard a grumble from the slayer down the hall where he no doubt was coming out of the bathroom. Mirajane was the one that was forcing him to go along with that. "We know."

"Then you guys get to fight over the other bedrooms," she said. "Remember? Just make sure you leave one for Master."

"What?" Makarov glanced over at her with a frown. "You think that I can't fight for my own place?"

"There's a bedroom next to that bathroom I just got outta, Gramps," Laxus said as he came back into the room, looking much more relieved. Then again, he kind was. "You can have that bedroom. You said there were four bedrooms right, Ever? Then a den with a pullout couch Bickslow and Lisanna can share-"

"I do not understand," Bickslow growled, "how come me and Lissy automatically get-"

"Because you two are low on to the totem pole," Laxus grumbled. "You think you'd be used to it."

"Yeah, but Freed's only by himself," he argued. "So how come he don't-"

"Because I am me," Freed told him simply with a glare. "And you are you. Surely you have grasped that by now."

"And the boys can sleep in the living room. We bought them sleeping bags," Mirajane finished with a sigh. "Or in bed with their parents."

"I wanna sleep with Bickslow!" Mace was running back to them then, holding his arms above his head as he jumped at the seith.

"Me? You choose me? Huh?" Bickslow caught the five year old easily, lifting the giggling boy into his arms. Lisanna was finished inspecting the downstairs then and came back with the man's dolls who took to circling around him in excitement.

"Can we go to the beach now?" Nate was still in the other room, face muffled as he pressed it against the glass. "Mommy?"

"Not yet, Nate," Laxus answered. "We gotta get settled. Then I'll take you down to the water, huh?"

"And we have to go to the store," Ever said as, when Elfman finally got all the stuff in the house, she just pointed upwards, as if gesturing to the second floor.

"What?" the muscular man asked.

"What do you mean what? Take everyone's stuff upstairs," she said. "Other than Master's. He's down here."

Growling, Elfman said, "I ain't no lackey, woman! I-"

"We can help," his son, Mace, offered as Bickslow dropped him gently on the ground. Helping sounded great. To Nathan too, though that was more because he thought if they hurried things along, he could get to doing what he wanted.

"Store?" Bickslow complained with a frown. "Why do we gotta go to a store?"

"To get groceries, Bicks," Lisanna sighed. "And hey, the den's this way, so let's take our stuff in there, huh?"

"Maybe I don't wanna."

"Bickslow."

"Make me go to the store," he grumbled. "What do I look like? Huh?"

As they headed off down a hall, Mira only looked to Laxus. "Help Elf."

"Help him what?" He'd taken to glaring at the dog who was sniffing around the room, as if daring him to lift a leg. If he did, he'd be kicked right out and have to fend for himself out on the beach.

"Take the bags to the rooms, Lax. I mean it. Go."

"What are you going to do then?"

"Mmmm." She was still holding Pike and only snuggled the boy a bit. "Go pick out a bed for us."

It took a bit to get things all settled. It was decided that the women and Freed would head out to the store with the children to get snacks and food for the next few days. Nate didn't wanna go, but when he heard that Mira and his cousin were, well, it wasn't like he was going to get stuck with stinky Laxus.

Pike wasn't nearly as happy about it. He wanted to take a nap! A real one. And he was so whiny that Mirajane ended up just leaving him behind with the guys so he could get one.

"When we get back," she sighed as she laid him down in the room she and Laxus had picked out, "we're gonna go to the beach though. So rest up, huh?"

After that frightful journey on the train, the dog needed a nap too and easily snuggled up with him in the bed, which, with the other boy gone off with his mother, left Laxus with a free few hours there.

"Too bad," he grumbled to Bickslow as they settled out in the living room, Elfman milling around and the Master locked away in his room, "we don't have any beer yet."

"You can have a smoke if you want," the seith offered as he pulled his pack from his back pocket.

"Don't smoke that in here, nimrod," Laxus grumbled.

"Why not?"

"This ain't our place, yeah? Ever's friend is being nice enough to let us stay here. Don't-"

"You sure have turned into an adult, boss."

"It's called being matured."

"Whatever you want to call being no fun is up to you." Bickslow still lit up. "Besides, look at the coffee table. Cigarette tray right there. Shocked you can't smell it, boss, with your super nose."

"It is dragon senses, you moron."

"Same," he remarked, "thing.

"Is," came the remark, "not."

Blowing his smoke up, Bickslow only asked, "You want one?"

Snort. "I don't smoke girly little cigarettes, dipshit. I smoke like a man."

"You on about those disgusting cigars again?"

"I ain't on about nothin'."

"You sure sound like-"

"Hey!" And Elfman was in there. "Men smoke cigars. Laxus is right!"

"Hell yeah I am," the slayer grumbled. "Not that I needed your help in winnin'."

"Winning?" Bickslow laughed. "We wasn't arguing, boss. See? You turn everything into something. Something that you can go on about."

"I don't go on about things!"

The couch had an L-shape to it and, with Bickslow and Laxus sitting on the horizontal side of it, Elfman sat the other, knowing that they wouldn't want him too near them.

"Anyone checked on Master?" he asked Laxus who only shook his head.

"Says that he has to use the lacrima to get in touch with the guild," Laxus said with a shrug. "He left Erza in charge, you know."

"Yeah," Bickslow mumble. "Was a big driving force behind me wanting to go ahead and come with you guys."

"Then I'm sure he'll lay down for a bit," the man's grandson said with a shrug. "Gramps won't admit it, but he's probably too old to have come all this way. I didn't wanna bring him, but with both me and Mira gone to begin with, well… He just needs to be close to us."

"I," they heard someone say then from another room, "do not. And I resent the accusation."

"Great," Laxus grumbled as he heard his grandfather come into the room. "Today he chooses to put his hearing aid in. Just dandy."

"Dandy?" Bickslow mulled it over. "That's my new go to word."

"It don't sound too manly," Elfman grumbled.

"Sure it does. It's dandy!"

"Stop," Laxus groaned as Makarov, upon entering the living room, just went to take a seat in one of the recliners. "Seriously, don't even start."

"Dandy."

"Bickslow-"

"Dandy," his babies cried as they took to flying around the world. "Dandy."

Ugh. And Laxus thought he'd gotten rid of his annoyances.

They returned, of course, all of them. His sisters-in-law, wife, nephew, and, of course, Nathan.

"Where's Pike?"

"He's nappin'," Laxus said as the boy came to him the second he got back to the house, climbing right up onto the couch to stare at his father. "So you let him sleep until it's time to go down to the beach."

"I wanna go now," Nathan insisted, staring at him. "Please?"

"Soon." He only patted him on the head. "Go help your mother and aunts put stuff away, huh? And have them bring me a beer. Mira! You hear that? Did you buy beer? Have someone bring me one!"

Lisanna, never one for putting groceries away (or laundry for that matter; her and Bickslow's place was just a mess), came into the living room before he'd even finished his sentence, one in hand.

She only went to plop down in Bickslow's lap, handing it off to him. Laxus looked on enviously.

He and Mira had never gotten that. That precious time without brats. Clearly, Bickslow and Lisanna were benefiting from it.

"You don't have to yell, Lax," Mira called back. "Freed's bringing you one."

He'd need more than one, but…it was a start.

"Mommy!" Nate still ran back into the kitchen, nearly running into Freed on the way. "If I wake up Pike, can we go to the beach now?"

"Let us put this stuff up, Nate," she sighed, not even glancing at him. "Then we can. I promise, by the time we go back home, you'll be sick of the beach."

"Not me," he insisted as Mace, who was trying diligently to help put stuff away though he was getting more in the way than anything, giggled. "I wanna stay forever."

Yeah, well, Pike, who'd woken up in the bedroom upstairs to find only the dog and unfamiliar surroundings, sure didn't. His cries were heard easily.

"I got him, demon," Laxus grumbled at the sound. Then he added, "Come on, boys. You guys come and I can get you into your trunks, huh?"

"Okay," Mace giggled, rushing to head up the stairs. Nate though wasn't having it.

"I'm not a baby! I can do it myself!"

"Just come on," Laxus grumbled as he bounded after them.

Sheesh. The first day was only halfway over and already he was counting down the ones until he could go home.

That's what he got for going on that stupid family vacation with the others though. If by vacation they meant hell and family they meant people he couldn't stand other than the demon and his boys (sometimes), then yes. It was turning out to be a splendid one.

"Don't be grumpy, dragon," Mira called after him. "Just because you got motion sick and all embarrassed over it."

"I was not either of those things!"

"Sure."

"I wasn't."

He wasn't. So there.

Oh, and the demon was officially off the list. Just him and his boys.

"Were too," Nate snickered as they met at the top of the stairs.

Pike. Laxus liked Pike. The others were just all detriments anyways.

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