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hellishjoel · 4 months ago

Text

ungodly and unprofessional

5.6k / pairing: linecook!frankie x waitress f!reader

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summary: who said anything about falling in love? you're just co-workers. warnings/information: MA 18+ (minors DNI), smoking, descriptions of food and drink, reader is described to have hair (not descriptive of what color/length/etc.) and wears a waitress uniform, explicit smut, consensual somnophilia, swearing, pet names, allusions to bad parenting/parental abuse, descriptions of a parent abusing drugs and alcohol (please heed these warnings and do not read if you are concerned these may be triggers), lastly not beta'd (lmk if you're interested!) A/N: five or six months later, who really knows. believe it or not, I was never not working on this or thinking about it for all of those months... which is crazy. I completely wing these chapters which is probably why it takes so long but you guys don't mind, right? enjoy these cuties falling deeper <3 I almost forgot - shoutout to BistroHuddy on TikTok because one of their segments inspired something in here (but no spoilers!)

“To love someone is firstly to confess: I'm prepared to be devastated by you.” Billy-Ray Belcourt.

You have this silly poetry book someone gave you as a birthday present or holiday gift exchange a few years ago. You’ve never picked it up until now. You’re shocked to say all of these cheesy love quotes and poems make you think of one very specific person: a guy with dark curls, a scruffy beard, amber eyes, and the perfect smile. Francisco.

Falling for a man like Frankie feels like growing up— a sign of maturing compared to the ghosts of terrible boyfriend's past.

Come to find out, it’s easier to go for the wrong guys, easier on your heart in a way — you don’t feel like you are actually losing anything.

That’s why you would bet on losing dogs. Invest your emotions and need for romance in those who don’t reciprocate. The ones who despise commitment or lack emotional availability leave you in a state of disappointment.

Better that than full-blown heartache. Better than ripping yourself open at the seams for another, only to be the one to sew yourself back up again. But not better than winning.

The letter Frankie’s father sent him weeks ago had been burned into your brain. Every single word, each break of a new paragraph, lines of apologies, and convincing stories of ‘the good times’ they used to have.

Frankie appeared to be just as wary about the letter as you were, neither of you so easily trusting. Frankie didn’t trust his father, but you did trust Frankie—end of story.

You’ve never known Frankie to be so tightly closed about something that bothers him. He was the type of man who wears his heart on his sleeve, an open book.

Aside from allowing you to read the letter, you two have barely spoken about it. And not due to your lack of trying.

There wasn’t a need for you to bring clarity to the situation, it wasn’t up to you to encourage Frankie to allow his father back into his life. But there was still a lot of emotional trauma that he carried that he didn’t have to bear alone. You just wanted him to know that you support him in whatever avenue he decides is best.

To forgive or to forget.

Frankie releases a sigh from his parted lips, squeezing his eyes closed tighter as your alarm chimes from your phone on the bedside table. He hates the fucking morning shift.

The air is sticky and thick, and the fan on his bedroom ceiling is doing little to help. Late August is still taking its toll on Texas and its residents, but he’s reminded that this time last year, he sunk down on his knees in the back kitchen and tasted you on his tongue for the first time. Can’t believe it’s been a year since then. Plus all the events that have transpired since.

There’s no label between you two other than the fact you are exclusive— putting your focus on each other and not seeing other people. It was good, better than nothing with you.

His eyelashes finally flutter open, seeing you shift in the dark to turn off the alarm, only to dig your face deep into your pillow. He thinks you’re fucking adorable.

Frankie is by no means a morning person, but waking up beside you has changed his perspective. Your hair is a scattered mess, the ponytail having fallen loose in the tosses and turns of last night. The sunlight peaking through the blinds highlights the slope of your nose and Cupid’s bow. Arms tucked into your front, leg hiked up like a ballerina.

His mind starts to swirl at the conversation you shared recently, that you wanted to try something… new. To be surprised. To be taken by him in your sleep.

He was shocked to hear you say it, all shy and meek - it’s not a side of you he sees often. But it’s the vulnerability talking, advocating the trust you share together.

“I want to wake up with you inside me.”

Frankie had to blink a few times, his large hand cradling your jaw as you spoke in whispers between the sheets. “You— I didn’t know you’d be into that sort of thing.”

“We don’t have to if it’s not your thing. But there’s something about you moving me where you want me to be, being completely under your control, even a little helpless,” you pause, uncertain if your words would scare him off.

The exact opposite. Frankie was intrigued.

“The thrill of trying not to wake you up.” He continues, watching your glowing smile return, indicating that Frankie understands why this would feel good to you.

“My natural reaction, trusting you, knowing that you’ll be careful, knowing that you’re using me— it’s hot, Frankie. You have my consent, I wanna try.”

Frankie’s stomach churns with excitement, butterflies spreading through his abdomen and up to his chest, his heart thunking eagerly.

He was slow and methodical, not wanting you to stir from your sleepy state. Nipping at his lower lip, teeth piercing the skin, he works up the courage to touch you. A rough and calloused hand travels up your side, pushing up your sleep tee and watching goosebumps line the tips of his fingers.

Frankie presses slow kisses to the top of your shoulder, feeling his cock swell against the plump of your ass in all of the excitement. He whispers your name, soft and raspy with the morning hour. Other than a small twitch of your nose, you’re out cold.

“Shh, s’okay angel, m’gonna make you feel good.” The desire stirs in his stomach, urging him to please you in your sleep just like you asked.

With two crooked fingers, he curls them around the band of your panties and slowly drags them down your soft thighs. You let out a slow sigh between your parted lips, Frankie pausing to watch as you settle once more.

Slipping two skilled fingers between your legs, he slowly massages up and down your folds. He’s surprised to already feel the slick between your legs, a low groan of approval leaving the depths of his throat.

There’s a shift, your hips squirming for more of his touch. You’re so perfectly pliant for him, causing the embers low in his belly to grow with anticipation, the blood rushing to his cock as it hardens against the curve of your ass.

“Good girl,” he remarks as you let out a little whimper upon the pads of Frankie’s fingers finding your swollen clit. “Even asleep, you’re nice and wet for me, princess.”

Goddammit, he thinks, how does she have this much of an effect while perfectly asleep? He can’t stand the feeling of not touching her, the carnal need to take her was strong like a magnet, forcing their bodies together.

One yank and he was out of his briefs, chewing on his lower lip in concentration. He needed to move you, to perfectly fit in the nook of your body, you’d have to be good and yield to him.

Frankie hikes up your leg and fills in the spaces between your bodies, stroking over himself as he slowly lines his leaking tip along your entrance. Just as he notches his tip inside, a quiet and sleepy gasp leaves your perfect pillowy lips.

“Right there, baby, you just stay right there for me,” Frankie growls against your ear, his hips flush with yours as he slowly lets inch by inch of him be swallowed by your warm cunt.

After that, there wasn’t a lot of nicety to him. The level of control he carried was lost. He just wanted to take and take, feel and fuck. He wants to use you like his own personal toy; do whatever he pleases with no resistance. You were his to devour.

He’s still inside you, but he’s gotten this far, and you’re still out. Even in sleep, you’re pulsing around his cock, so fucking tight around him that it steals the air from his lungs. There’s a hint of discomfort in your face, a quiet gasp held within your expression.

“Fuck,” he grunts, the hand he holds firmly on your hip now moving under your sleep tee.

You were so fucking accessible to him, so beautiful, so peaceful being fucked raw.

He rolls your nipple between his thumb and index finger, getting the reaction he’s been waiting for all morning. A sweet, slow moan tumbles loose from your throat, your hips reeling back to grind against Frankie’s lap.

He’s somewhat pleased he knows you this well, knows what gets you worked up and gushing. The fact that even in your sleep, you have this reaction towards him makes the fire burning inside his abdomen grow. Maybe a deep part of him gets off on knowing you so well.

Frankie lets out a sigh at his own thoughts, lightly nipping the skin of your exposed shoulder as he slowly rolls his hips back and glides in again, feeling the drag of your tight pussy keeping him lubed up and warm.

If he weren’t so desperate to fuck you, he’d love to just sit inside you like this all goddamn day. It would probably give him the same comfort as the first cup of coffee.

He gives your breast one more firm squeeze before returning the attention back to your clit, all desperate and tingling with each eager circle he gives you.

“So fucking perfect,” he whispers against your ear, his hips continuing at a steady pace until he simply needs more. He hikes up your leg once again to allow himself more movement, smirking as your ass smacks against the front of his hips with each thrust that now jostles your body.

You’ll surely wake any moment, shocked and sleepy and startled at his cock so deep inside your perfectly spent cunt.

You whimper each time he fills you, your face digging into the pillow as you moan against the cover. Frankie’s efforts grow needy and demanding, fisting your hair out of his way as he sucks marks into your neck; teeth and tongue massaging the skin before leaving a bruise in its wake.

A sweet little sob exits your parted lips, Frankie groaning at the pretty little noises you make.

“Take me so well, princess. You want me to keep fuckin’ you, huh?” He snarls against your neck, smirking as you hiss at the sensations you’re feeling all throughout your body.

Suddenly, your eyes flutter open. They absorb the settings around you and it all clicks. A long, desperate moan crawls from the depths of your throat, your movements sluggish but your hand eventually clasps onto Frankie’s forearm, his fingers still swirling around your clit.

“Ohmy— Frankie, fuck,” you gasp as you feel the full force of his cock drilling deep inside your pussy. Your voice is still thick with sleep, eyes cloudy with lust, and skin-prickling sensations that you had never felt before; a million emotions, but the standout being desperation to come undone like this with a man you trust.

“This what you wanted, angel? Wake up with my cock stuffed between your legs?” Frankie smirks as he presses his lips against your cheek, jaw dropping against your own as you ride out the high together.

You cry out something wrecked, a garble of syllables as your spine arches against his front. You weren’t given the pleasure of feeling the orgasm build and build; you woke up at its high heat.

In an instant, your skin was clammy, hair sticking to your skin as desperate pants filled the room, along with broken moans of Frankie’s name.

It’s exactly what you wanted, maybe better. Yes, way better.

You’re so tight, literally clinging to every single inch he gives you as your slick drenches his cock. Your nails dig into his tan skin, feeling the muscles and tendons work to play with your clit.

A whimper leaves you as the warmth in your stomach boils over, turning your head over your shoulder to catch a glimpse of his face. His eyes are dark, cast over with lust as he stole you in your sleep. In an instant, he meets you with a messy kiss, your bodies and the bed still jolting with each rough thrust he gives you.

“Please,” you moan against his lips, nodding your head as you look into his eyes. “Come inside me, I wanna feel it, please, give it to me, Frankie,” your words turn into a whine as he begins to fuck you harder, deeper, his tip tickling your cervix as you damn near blackout from the pleasure.

The pleasure inside of you finally reaches the surface. The feeling was like a wave breaching over your rocky shores, washing over you both in pleasure as your cunt spasms around his thick cock.

Frankie spoils your clit as his hips snap against your ass, one, two, three more times before the feeling of you overcomes him. He braces you tightly in his arms, panting against your shoulder, eyes clenching closed as he lets out broken grunts of release. He paints your insides with his spend, both of you relaxing in one another’s hold as you slowly descend from heaven.

“Jesus Christ,” Frankie breathes, shaking his head with a tilted smirk. “You don’t know what you do to me.” He remarks as you look over your shoulder in a haze.

You whimper as you pull him in closer, fingers weaving into the curls at the back of his head and encouraging him to meet your parted lips.

The words are at the tip of your tongue, and you can feel them spread heat throughout your body. You can hear both of your hearts beating, thundering against the human flesh, and signaling the feeling of being alive.

Frankie waits for the words. The feeling of anticipation has been lingering for quite some time. Your touch of nervousness was welcome, expected even. A moment in time when your heart feels exposed but also overwhelmingly full. Only hoping that the other person feels the same way, yet uncertain of how they will respond. A game of chicken of who will say it first and who will have to respond. The leap of faith one will be forced to make and the right words the other will have to find.

Both roles are downright frightening.

You’re risking everything, the biggest gamble one can make without physical currency.

But he sees the panic behind your eyes, the nervewracking feeling of saying the sacred words to someone, maybe even for the first time. And he knows that they will be worth it to hear.

“I know,” he whispers against your lips, shaking his head in a way that tells you he knows what you’re thinking. “I know.”

You don’t attend church, so you have one question: why the fuck is God sending people to get brunch after Sunday’s service? Why is that their beck and call?

Every Sunday morning, like clockwork, a flock of people flood the diner with their church clothes and a hankering for waffles and Frankie’s house lumberjack skillet (you wanna know what’s in it, don’t you?)

Frankie’s Secret Ingredients:

Potatoes: 1/4 lb (about 4-5 small potatoes)

Olive Oil: 1/2 tablespoon

Breakfast Sausage Links: 3 oz (about 4 links)

Onion: 1/8 of a whole onion, chopped

Red Pepper: 1/4 of a whole red pepper, chopped

Jalapenos: 1/2 jalapeno, sliced (omit if person looks too old to handle)

Butter: 1 tablespoon

Hickory Maple Seasoning: 1/2 teaspoon

Eggs: 2 large eggs

Milk: 1 tablespoon

Cheddar Cheese: 2 tablespoons, shredded

Anyway, Tommy’s Diner is slammed by mid-morning, and you’re working up a sweat. You’re wiping at your neck and forehead every few minutes, and the sun filtering through the windows does little justice to cool your skin. Tina called out sick, which is code for hungover from Saturday. It’s overwhelming. Your brain feels like the scrambled eggs you just plated for that family of four.

“Enjoy,” you whisper a little breathlessly, tucking your notepad into the front of your apron, rubbing at your temple with the heel of your hand as you walk past the rest of your tables.

By the time you lift your head, you see a large potbelly man who is waving an arm up above his head, fingers already snapping incessantly. He looked like a chubby rat, with a large dark-haired mustache and a shirt that didn’t fully cover the beer gut he was sporting.

“Uhm, hello? Miss, can we get some service over here?”

Jesus fucking Christ. Your jaw tightens a few notches, pushing your hair out of your face and wrapping around to their table. You remember them; you took their table’s order a bit ago now - shit, did you forget their plates? No, you didn’t.

Stopping at the head of their table, you smile politely at the large family.

“Hi, can I get you something while you wait?”

The man scoffs and snaps, “Uh, yeah, our food.”

Taking a deep breath wasn’t enough; you were a ticking time bomb. “Sir, do you see how many people are in the diner? We’re at capacity with a line out the door. I understand you’ve been waiting, but our kitchen is backed up and-”

“Bull-honkey-bullcrap, little miss,” the man raises his voice, spitting violently with each syllable, “This is ridiculous! We’ve been sittin’ here for nearly an hour. How hard is it to make some eggs and Mickey Mouse pancakes, huh? You just that stupid? What the hell is goin’ on back there? Are you people completely incompetent, or are you just ignorin’ us?”

Worse things have been said to your face, but you’re at your breaking point. You can feel your face flush with warmth radiating throughout your body. Now, the entire diner is staring at you from all the commotion. Your lungs feel tight, a headache casting heavy behind your face. Tears line your eyes, but you don’t dare let them fall.

“Again, I’m really sorry, but like I said, the kitchen is backed up.” But apologizing isn’t enough. This guy just wanted someone to take his punches.

“Don’t even try to apologize. I don’t wanna hear your pathetic excuses. How hard is it to cook some damn eggs? This place is a joke. You must be the worst server I’ve ever dealt with. ‘Nd I swear, if I wanted this kind of useless service, I’d go to a fast food joint. Is this how you treat payin’ customers, or ya’ll just this lazy? Do your job, or I’ll make sure everyone knows how worthless you and this diner is.”

You clutch the empty coffee pot tightly, biting your tongue. Turning swiftly, you head straight for the back swinging door. You don't intend to contribute to the chaos or the bustling mess in the kitchen, but here, in the safety of the back section, you allow a few stray tears to escape.

Shoulder blades hitting the cold brick, you wish to blend into the wall. It feels like the air’s been knocked out of you, your chest heavy and tight. Every sound around you blurs as the man’s harsh words replay in your mind, louder and louder each time. Your hands shake just enough to want to hide them behind your back, feeling afraid to have eyes on you in such a vulnerable state. Exposed. You’ve absorbed the anger meant for something or someone else, so now, it sticks to you, something you can’t wash away.

Your name echoes once, twice.

“Hey,” A calm amongst the rushing waves - it’s Frankie. You blink him into focus, bleary tears slowly fading away. His red bandana is tied tight around his forehead to catch the sweat from his forehead and hair. His face is laced with concern. He wipes his hands off on his apron, gently capturing your face as he shields you from the rest of the kitchen.

And just like that, life returns to your body. You can feel the tips of your fingers, previously tingling, wiping under your eyes as you hiccup through your breaths. Frankie knows this high-traffic area will only make your anxiety worse.

“It’s okay, take a deep breath and tell me what happen.”

The eyes of the kitchen staff are slowly starting to turn to you, asking if you’re alright and why you’re upset. Shaking your head dismissively, you blink away your tears and look down at the grubby floor that probably hasn’t been mopped since the invention of flip phones.

“I’m fine. This customer just got pissed and yelled at me. He was upset that his food was running behind, and I tried to explain that the kitchen was backed up.” You part your lips to continue, but the jaw drops of the kitchen staff signal shock by your words.

They all start honking in unison like a flock of geese.

“He what?”

“Which fuckin’ table?”

“You okay, sweetheart? Fuck them.”

Frankie's back straightens stiff, having previously been craning to see your face, now strict with annoyance.

“Is that him?” Frankie asks as he walks to the window between the kitchen and the back counter, narrowing his eyes on the rat man and his family.

“Frankie, please don't,” you huff, already refilling your pots of coffee and hoping to just forget the whole thing ever happened. "It's okay, it happens."

But it’s not okay. Because this guy made you cry, and what the hell was it for? Some scrambled eggs and bacon on delay?

The rest of the line cooks have abandoned their food to gawk at the asshole who thinks he can get away with yelling at one of their own like that.

Frankie tightens his bandana and peels off his gloves, slapping them down in the trash.

His boots thunder across the linoleum, catching the attention of many of the patrons on his way to the booth by the window where the rat man has continued to reside angrily. Even worse, he chuckles at the sight of Frankie.

“Take a load of this guy," the rat man appears to mutter to his wife who looks between them both with startled eyes. "Okay, okay, just bring back the pretty waitress. I’ll tell her I’m sorry.” He sneers, shaking his head.

“No, you’re done with her. You’re dealin’ with me now.” Frankie snags an empty chair from a nearby table, turns it around, and straddles the seat as he gets in the burly man's face.

“I just feel terrible that we’re not meeting the quality of service you expected. So what exactly is the problem?” Frankie asks with a hint of venom lining his words.

“Well- we’ve been waitin’ here for half an hour and-”

“Right, and what did the pretty waitress say?”

The man scoffs lightly, feeling embarrassed with all the eyes on him not once but twice now. “Well, she said the kitchen was backed up.”

“That’s right, that’s right, well, I’m the fuckin’ kitchen. You wanna yell at someone? Well, I thought I’d give you the chance to yell at me since, hey, I'm in charge of the kitchen today. Please, tell me your honest review.”

The rat man stares blankly, looking from left to right in surprise, but his family all gawks at Frankie.

Frankie waits, eyes unblinking, face hardened as the man sputters up something weak in response.

“This is ungodly and unprofessional,” he gargles, shifting uncomfortably in his seat.

“You’re absolutely right!” Frankie says, smacking the table with his closed fist before pointing at the rat man, the tip of his finger inches from his face. “I am unprofessional, but that’s because I don’t have the great customer service skills of our waitresses. That’s her job,” Frankie juts a thumb backward towards the kitchen in your direction. “So now, instead of cookin’ you and your ugly wife and kids some food, I gotta come out here and knock some sense into ya since you seemed to have lost your manners. So you gonna let her do her job so I can get back to mine?”

You can only watch from the window in shock, hand over mouth, unblinking eyes - but it’s like a car crash you can’t look away from. The man is shocked into an embarrassed silence.

“We’ll just… we’ll wait. There’s-uh-there’s a lotta people here.”

Frankie sighs and smiles with fake relief. He stands from the chair, looking around the quiet restaurant.

“Anybody else have somethin' they wanna say?”

They all seem too scared of Frankie to complain again to the psycho chef. Chants of ‘Everything’s great!’ or “Thank you!” echo through the dining room.

You smile warmly, forcing yourself to turn away from the scene and clean up your teary makeup in the bathroom. But all you can think about is Frankie. Francisco. Stupid Catfish. Stepping in like that to protect you, to make that jerk take accountability. It makes your heart flutter knowing how much he cares. And you feel the same way.

It’s about time you tell him.

Knuckles wrap against the bathroom door, and an echo of, “You okay?” follows.

He comes in without a response, somewhat relieved to find you adjusting your hair and wiping at the smeary makeup. Your eyes soften at the sight of him, watching in the reflection. He looks disheveled and annoyed, shaking his head as he starts ranting about rat man.

“I don’t get how people like that- the God-loving church people- come in here and act like they weren’t just told at a sermon to love thy neighbor or whatever bullshit.”

He continues, but all you do is stare.

A part of you thinks he defends others due to his childhood. No one picks on the people Frankie cares about. That letter riled him up, maybe more than either of you had realized. He’s thinking about those times of the past, the innocent hurt by the deviant.

“You didn’t deserve that, I’m sorry, he’s a fucking dick. You don’t have to take his food out, I’ll do it. Honey,” he breathes, hand resting on your shoulder as he gently turns you around to face him. “Are you mad at me? I know you told me not to go out there, but no one makes you cry if I can help it, y’know? I don’t want him to think he can get away with that.”

Once Frankie starts ranting, it’s really hard to get him to stop.

“Frankie,” you breathe out, resting your hand over the one he holds on your shoulder.

“I mean, does he really think that it’s smart to be rude to the staff? I’ll spit in his food, and it will feel really good because he’ll have no idea.”

“Frankie,”

“You’re a good fucking waitress! Doesn’t he see the entire breakfast bar and all the booths filled with guests? The line out the door wasn’t an indication of how busy it is? Get a fuckin’ brain, I mean-”

In an instant, you tilt your chin up, catching his gaze just long enough to see the shift in his eyes before your lips meet. Your hands slide around his neck, fingers weaving into the soft curls at the nape, gently tugging him down toward you. The kiss begins with an urgency, part playful, part to silence his words, but mostly, it's to thank him in a way that words never could.

Frankie’s initial surprise fades quickly as he melts into you, his breath hitching for a moment. His hands travel to your waist, sliding around until they lock just above your hips, anchoring you to him. He presses closer, his touch firm yet tender, and slows the kiss, savoring the warmth of your lips. You feel the way his body relaxes, how he leans in, letting the world around you both fall away as he holds you, close and unmoving, like he’s never letting go.

It takes every ounce of courage in your body to pull away, your lips lingering against his for a heartbeat longer than necessary, as if tethered by an invisible force. Slowly, you break the kiss, your breath shaky, heart racing. His forehead rests against yours for a moment, his eyes still half-closed, unaware of the words hanging on the edge of your lips.

You gently pull back just enough to meet his gaze, your fingers still laced in his hair, trembling slightly. His eyes search yours, soft and expectant, filled with something unspoken but unmistakable.

With a deep inhale, you let the words slip out, vulnerable and raw, barely louder than a whisper, but heavy with meaning.

“I love you.”

The world stands still as the words hang in the air, your heart pounding as you wait for the weight of what you’ve just said to settle between you.

And then he smiles like an idiot. And you’re joining him.

“Did you say what I think you said? Did you say that you love me?" His voice is soft, teasing, as he presses his forehead against yours, capturing your lips with a few playful, quick kisses between his words. “Come on, say it again.”

You feel your heart flutter, overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment. Frankie’s eyes twinkle with amusement. “I heard you say it. Now you can’t take it back,” he adds with a grin, pulling you tighter, his arms leaving no space between you.

You giggle, your hands pushing lightly against his shoulders, though he doesn’t budge. “Stop, that was really hard,” you huff, breathless, as though the words had stolen all the air from your lungs.

Frankie just shakes his head, his smile fading into something softer, more real, as the weight of the moment catches up with him. “I’ve thought about better places or times to tell you this, I wanted to wait until you were ready,” he whispers, his voice hushed with disbelief, eyes locking onto yours, “but I love you more than you’ll ever know. More than you’ll ever understand or dream. I love you.”

His thumb traces the curve of your cheekbone, a gentle, affectionate touch that sends shivers down your spine. The intensity in his gaze mirrors your own, both of you lost in this shared vulnerability, your hearts speaking in unison.

“I love you, too,” you breathe, the words falling effortlessly this time, as if they’ve always been waiting for this moment.

So, yeah. You sort of love your co-worker Francisco Morales.

The sun is blinding—orange and yellow streams of light as it is forced to set along the horizon. It’s slow but noticeable, sinking into the land beyond what you can see.

The sun goes down in Texas once again.

Frankie raises his cigarette, its glowing tip mirroring the fiery hues of the sunset.

His neighborhood is tranquil, lined with single-story homes and tree-bordered streets where autumn's touch is just around the corner. Children ride bikes, joggers and dog walkers pass by, and new parents push their baby strollers—a picturesque scene that feels meticulously arranged yet somehow distant. Frankie, too, feels out of place here.

"You got pretty worked up today—more than usual," you say softly.

Frankie lets out a dry chuckle, cigarette between his lips as he leans back on his elbows, squinting at the fading sun. "Yeah, maybe. You think I’m off right now?" He tilts his head, genuinely curious, as if searching for what’s changed.

You shrug, glancing at him with a fond smile. "I think that letter from your dad has you more rattled than you realize. I found it in your sock drawer this morning."

Frankie’s gaze drops to his lap, a flicker of shame crossing his face.

"I thought you said you were gonna toss it?" you muse gently, watching as his mind churns, cigarette hovering at his lips before he sighs deeply.

"You’re too observant," he smirks. "I don’t know why I haven’t crumpled, burned, or shredded it into pieces by now. I have every right to."

You rest a comforting hand on his shoulder, squeezing the tension there. "But you didn’t. Why?"

Frankie bites his lower lip nervously, glancing your way. "At the end of the apology letter, he asked to take me out for my birthday. Put down the time, place—everything. Said he’d wait for me."

Your expression softens, letting him know you’re here, really listening. "And you’re thinking about it?"

"Yeah… I guess so. But I don’t even know what I’d say. I’ve only seen him once or twice since I moved out. It’s been years. And when I do see him, I’m thirteen all over again, just yelling at him, so angry. I see his face, and it’s like a switch flips. And that’s not me. You know that’s not me," Frankie stammers, panic flickering in his eyes.

"I know," you whisper, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. He pulls you closer, resting his head against yours as the weight of it all settles.

After a deep breath, Frankie gathers himself. "He used to bring out the worst in me. I don’t know if I still hate him as much. Time’s passed, maybe he’s changed. But I’m not holding my breath."

He’s an adult now, more guarded, wiser to the people who’ve hurt him. He’s fought through battles and traumas you don’t even know about. Yet, in his eyes, there’s a flicker of hope. Maybe his dad has turned a corner, maybe he’s cleaned up, seen his mistakes. But you know better than to trust in maybes.

And you’d protect him from being let down again.

"Do you want me to go with you?" you offer quietly.

Frankie’s eyes snap to yours, wide and searching.

"Okay," he says after a long pause. "Let’s do it."

#frankie morales #frankie morales x you #frankie morales fanfiction #frankie morales smut #frankie morales x reader #fuck yeah frankie #francisco morales #catfish morales #triple frontier #triple frontier fanfiction #frankie catfish morales #francisco catfish morales #pedro pascal #frankie morales x f!reader #francisco morales smut

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weirwoodsugar · 2 years ago

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lil jon things i am obsessed with/think are hilarious in the order they occurred to me at 3 am

-spends the first book telling anyone who will listen that he’s Not Afraid To Die and then a wight shoves its whole hand down his throat and he’s like wow that was actually extremely scary and never says that shit again

-always got little Things he says to himself but they’re all awful. very bad affirmation game no wonder morale is low

-“did lord eddard father you on a fish wife”

-the doubts that plague me can’t catch me if i just keep making Decisions!!! let’s hear it for Decisions!!!!

-arguably contender for top woman respecter but batting absolute zero at successfully comforting crying women. unless you consider “making her mad at you instead of upset” a success

-i’m not a wolf! i’m not a wolf!! i’m not a wolf!!! while warging like almost constantly with zero control. babe i don’t think your affirmations are working you’re experiencing non consensual smells at an alarming rate

-i wish mormont was my dad wait no i wish benjen was my dad wait no i wish qhorin was my dad wait no i wish donal noye was my dad. will someone be my dad please i just keep making decisions

-constantly having Agonies over ethical decision making while the rest of the continent hasn’t even really invented the concept of ethics yet? on the verge of a nervous breakdown due to his constant Agonies

-related: love is the death of duty but having strong ethical convictions/clear moral vision is also kind of the death of duty oops! aemon didn’t warn you about that one!

-stannis wants to davosify this kid mega bad

-“jon felt like he was fifteen again” (said when he’s literally sixteen)

-has a terrible violence in his heart but it’s kind of the least of his problems tbh. like yeah my fire and blood levels are a little elevated but i’ve got paperwork i need to take care of

-RUNNING DOWN THE TABLE AT YOU WITH A KNIFE!!!!!

-last of the giants fixation. god he’s gonna be so mad when he comes back and wun wun is dead. this one isn’t hilarious it’s deeply moving and endearing

-an eagle almost rips his eye out and he’s like well i guess i have no choice but to have sex with ygritte at least one dozen times. it’s a tough job but someone’s gotta do it

-just a crazy amount of anime main character pre-loaded swag (bastard of winterfell skin changer with an albino direwolf and a cool sword which he can really SWANG and cool facial scars etc etc) and is actively working against it. rolled super high on charisma and is trying to balance it out by being as much of a boring fuddy duddy as he possibly can. the devil works hard (at making me cool) but i work harder (at being very uncool). it is an honorable thing to be swagless by choice…….

-pretty sure he actively enjoys saying no to people. just for love of the game (the game is being disagreeable). very capricorn coded. likely brushes his teeth in the shower.

-REMEMBER WE KNOW WHERE YOU SLEEP 😈

#valyrianscrolls #jon snow #a song of ice and fire #asoiaf

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starogeorgina · 2 years ago

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Twin flames

Warning: Swearing, age gap, asshole Aemond

Pairing: Daemon Targaryen × Targaryen oc

1.02

You watched as your uncle took in the appearance of your bedchamber, his lilac eyes scanning the room your mother deemed unworthy of a princess. Furniture was plain; curtains were faded; and books filled with stories of tragic lovers were scattered everywhere. He was most likely underwhelmed; most people were. Aegon often compared your bedchamber to the servants. Aemond had no such remark since he had never entered your bedchambers since childhood.

“If I knew in advance, uncle, you’d be helping me sneak back into the keep, I would have tried to spruce the room up slightly for you,” you say jokingly.

Daemon's facial expression remains hard to read until something catches his attention. Frowning, he walks towards the table in the center of the room and picks up the different pieces of fabric. “What happened to your dresses?”

You’re taken aback by the tone of his voice; unlike your mother or grandsire, there wasn’t a hint of judgment or disapproval; Daemon sounded genuinely concerned about why so many outfits had large tares in them. His eyes had a fierce glow to them while he awaited your answer. You cleared your throat. “My mother won’t allow me to repurpose my dresses unless they are ruined. After wearing a dress a few times, I tend to accidentally rip it.”

“Hmm,” he says, tossing the fabric back down, “and what exactly do you do with them?”

“Myself and one of the seamstresses turn them into bedding or clothing to give to the poor.” Sighing, you start to fold the pieces of fabric into squares, placing them neatly onto the table. Keep your head low to hide the embarrassment; you probably sounded spoiled. “I know it isn’t much, but it should be criminal how much material is used for just one of my dresses when there are homeless people freezing during the nights and children running around naked in the streets of Flea Bottom.”

“Yes, the gods can be cruel.”

Your eyes narrow, and Daemon’s mocking tone irritates you until you spot a ghost of a smirk pulling on his lips. He was teasing you. “Perhaps one day the gods will be kind enough to help those who need them most.”

Daemon silently stares at you for a few moments, observing each of your actions as if something exciting could happen at any moment. His gaze slowly moves to the floor for a few seconds, as if he’s lost in thought. Daemon moves to another small table and sits beside it. He sniffs the remaining wine that you had brought earlier in the night and then takes a gulp of it, saying, “So tell me, what Dragon is it you ride?”

“Tyvaros.”

He tilts his head back, an amused look on his face. “Tyvaros is High Valyrian for serpent, is it not?”

“You know it is”, you sit down across from him and smile, “with scales as dark as coal and glowing green eyes. My dragon is basically a smaller version of the Cannibal, my black beauty.”

“I can’t imagine the same girl who gives her clothing to the less fortunate riding a dragon so ferocious.”

You lean across the table, reaching for the cup he just drank out of, and take a sip yourself. “You don’t know me well enough to make such assumptions.”

Grinning, he takes the cup from your hand and refills it before handing it back to you. He chuckles and says, “Dear niece, I think you are right; not to worry, we can always amend that. Now tell me, how often do you sneak out at night?”

—

Having little appetite, you pick at the food on your plate, washing what little you do eat down with wine. The room is silent aside from the sounds of scraping forks and knives until your mother says to you, “I haven’t seen that ring before; where did you get it from?”

You glance down at the delicate ring. It was a gold band with a red circular stone, one of the many gifts your uncle had given you over the past few moons. Daemon gave you books he thought you would enjoy, black and red dresses he assured you were made out of the cheapest fabric, and he even got a black collar decorated with emerald stones for your dragon. A gift your mother and grandsire were most pleased with, they assumed you had chosen the collar paying token to the Hightower family symbol, when in reality it was from a man whom they both despised. Neither of them made the connection between the green and matching Tyvaros eyes. Daemon had told you the ring was sentimental but never explained how so; you just knew he wore a matching one.

“It was a gift from a friend.”

The table is mostly quiet again. Aegon leers over and scrunches his nose up. “It’s hideous.”

“Good thing it’s not you who’s wearing it then, brother,” you say before dipping bread into the stew that was just placed in front of you.

You remain focused on your meal until you feel your hair being brushed behind your ear, sending shivers down your spine. Aemond stares at you intensely; his eye seems darker than usual as his fingers brush over a thin braid that had been hidden beneath the top layer of your hair.

Aemond seemed mad, but perhaps you were just imagining it.

Nights prior, during the hour of the owl, you had snuck out to meet with your uncle, and you sat in the gardens listening to tales of his daughters, who were currently staying with their grandmother, the queen who never was, Rhaenys Targaryen. It was clear he missed his daughters deeply, along with their mother, Lady Laena. As he spoke, Daemon played with your hair, braiding it as you drew a detailed picture of Caraxes flying in the night sky. Nothing inappropriate had happened between you and your uncle, but the thoughts you had of kissing him made it feel sinful, so you pretended your relationship with Daemon didn’t exist to others.

Aemond quickly pulled his hand away before returning to his meal, and all conversation ceased to exist once again.

—

You walk to your bedchamber with a smile on your face. You had spent the remainder of the afternoon with your sister Helaena, riding your dragons alongside one another. It isn’t until you are inside and begin to remove your riding gear that you notice a presence in your room. “Aemond!” You gasp, hand clasping on your chest, “What are you doing here?”

“Why not? I am your husband after all.”

The coldness in his tone causes you to tighten your grip on your recently removed jacket. You were wrong for ignoring the tingling of dread earlier when he spotted your braid. You clear your throat. “It is unlike you to come visit me; I’m surprised.”

“I regret not doing it sooner, wife.”

The word wife drips like venom from his tongue, and when you finally look at him again, you notice he’s holding your drawings. He scoffs before scrunching them up in his hands. “Tyvaros, Tessarion, Dreamfyre, Sunfyre, Syrax, Meleys, Seasmoke... hmm, you’ve drawn these dragons but not Vhagar.”

“I’ve not drawn the wild dragons either. I intend to draw them all eventually.”

“You’ve drawn that deformed-looking beast before mine!” He snaps, tossing a scrunched-up piece of paper with a drawing of Caraxes at your face, “Vhagar is my dragon, your husband's dragon!”

Tears well up in your eyes as his voice becomes louder and full of rage. You glance at the door. You could scream for the knight guarding your door, but realistically, he wouldn’t do anything to help you. Although you were a princess, he was a prince, and the knights would always defend the son of a king over a king's daughter. As frightened as you were, you would be damned if you let him know that, “If your intention was to frighten me, then you have failed.”

Aemond suddenly storms towards you; gripping your jaw tightly, he says, “Not to fear me is stupid. Foolish girl, not only are you sneaking around with our cunt of an uncle, but you now insult me even further by favoring him and his dragon over my own.”

“It was never meant as an insult; we all know Vhagar is a gift from the gods.”

He rolls his eyes at your weak attempt at softening him up. He glares at you and says, “You’ve made a fool of me.”

“Nothing has ever happened between me and Daemon. I enjoy his company; he cares what I have to say.”

You shake as Aemond lets go of your jaw and pulls his dagger from his belt. Tears roll down your cheeks as you squeeze your eyes shut, waiting for pain to come, but it never does. Feeling something tickle the tip of your nose, you open your eyes again to see your silver braid dangling like a prize that has been won in front of you. He lets out a dark chuckle, dropping it to the ground. “You’ve never let anyone braid your hair since we were children, not even your handmaidens.”

Your fear turns to anger. How dare he treat you in such a manner? When he is the one who created the toxic dynamic between you. You never wanted to marry Aemond, but you were prepared to perform your duty as a wife and princess, but he refused you each time. deprived you of not only children but also basic respect. “Tell me, brother, do you not feel guilt each time you look at me?” You pull up the sleeve of your dress, revealing your scared arm. “Every time I see this or a reflection of the one on my face, I curse the gods, then beg for their forgiveness for my lack of faith in them, and do you want to know why? It wasn’t them that did this to me.”

“It was an accident!”

“No,” you snort out with a laugh. “No, it wasn’t, not really. Deep down, you wanted to hurt me; you wanted to punish me for not wanting to help you seek revenge against our nephew.”

“Lucerys owes me a debt.”

“Does that mean you owe me one? Lucerys was just a boy defending his brother; you, on the other hand, are a brother who hurt his sister.” You shake your head at him and say, “When you saw the scar on my face, did you not think it was justice?”

Aemond knocks on the chamber door for the knight to open it, ignoring your question. He looks back at you and says, “You will no longer spend time with our uncle.”

Snorting out a laugh, you struggle to compose yourself. A smile spreads across your face. “Or what? You’ll have me locked away? You dishonor me each time you lay with your whores, and not once have I complained. I am not your property and will do as I please.”

“We’ll see.”

#house of the dragon #daemon targaryen/you #house of the dragon fanfiction #house of the dragon fandom #house of the dragon fanfic #twin flame #Daemon Targaryen #daemon targaryen fanfic #Daemon Targaryen x you #daemon targaryen x fem oc #daemon targaryen x oc #daemon targaryen/oc

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dodger-chan · 1 month ago

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On this, a totally normal day, please enjoy this short scene featuring demon Steve Harrington:

“They’re con artists,” Steve asserted, rolling his eyes. “They’re nothing I need to worry about.”

It wasn’t that Eddie thought Steve was wrong. He’d read a book about their involvement in that possession and murder case in Connecticut five years back. It had certainly read more like fiction to him.

It was just that demons tended towards overconfidence. Or at least Steve did. Maybe that was more of a jock thing than a demon thing.

“You’re bound to the mortal plain by a two-bit ring from a Crackerjack box,” Robin snarked. “Forgive me if I’m a little concerned.”

There was that, too.

“I’ll have you know that ring cost me fifty cents. It’s solid nickel,” Eddie joked. But he kind of agreed with Robin. The ring was a flimsy object, and entirely incongruous with Steve’s preppy look. Even if the couple weren’t practiced demon killers, the ring would be an obvious target.

“So that’s why my finger keeps turning green,” Steve mused. “Look, I can’t let this stand, but one of you can wear the ring until they’re gone, okay?”

-------

Which was how Edde found himself twisting his old ouroboros ring around his finger, sitting in a diner booth across from Robin. Stealthily watching the demon hunters eat their lunch. Waiting for Steve to arrive. The wait wasn’t long, but it was tense.

Steve ignored them when he walked in, only paying attention to the couple seated behind them. Robin leaned forward and stole some of Eddie’s french fries.

“I think we’re in trouble,” she whispered. She was only half joking. They weren’t supposed to be there; Steve didn’t want either of them associated with a demon. But Robin was not about to let Steve face even fake demon hunters completely alone. And - coward or not - neither was Eddie.

He shushed her, keeping an eye on Steve as he sat down at the hunters’ table.

“I read the contract you signed with Susan Mayfield. Book rights to her daughter's story for a flat fee? Seriously? My deals are more fair.” Steve was facing away from them, so Eddie had to imagine the smug expression on his face. The older couple looked confused.

“Your deals?” The man asked, like maybe he hadn’t put it together yet.

“I’m sitting here right in front of you and you still have no idea.” Steve shook his head. “And you call yourself demon hunters. I knew you were just con artists.”

Understanding dawn on the woman first.

“You’re the demon,” she said, fear in her voice. “The one who killed those kids.”

“I am a demon. But no, I haven’t killed any kids in Hawkins,” Steve corrected. “Those three dead kids, the Mayfield girl’s injuries, that really was a human. People can be evil all on their own, you know.”

“Why should we believe you?” the man asked. He didn’t appear as afraid as his wife, but Eddie was an expert on posturing. The guy was about thirty seconds away from shitting his pants.

“Believe, don’t believe. I don’t give a fuck. I’m not here to keep you from writing your little book and ripping off the American public with your absolutely true demon stories.” Eddie would bet good money Steve was rolling his eyes. “I’m here about this.”

Robin nearly turned around to see what Steve was holding even though she knew what it would be. Eddie kicked her ankle and she turned back.

“You see,” Steve went on, “I made a deal with the Mayfield girl’s brother. It means I owe her a certain amount of protection. So this contract you sweet-talked her mom into signing? We’re going to rework the terms. I’m thinking percent off the gross?”

-----------

Notes:

"that possession and murder case" refers to the Arne Johnson murder trial, where the defense tried to argue the killer had been possessed by a demon. The book was titled The Devil in Connecticut and published in 1983. It's also the inspiration for one of the Conjuring films.

Allegedly (and I'm not doing enough research to confirm it because this six hundred word story has enough notes already) the Warrens paid people flat fees for the rights to their stories and then made bank themselves off of books and films about the 'hauntings' and 'possessions.' Frankly, everything I've read about them makes them sound like unscrupulous con artists.

"two-bit ring from a cracker jack box" is a reference to a Firesign Theatre sketch (The Further Adventures of Nick Danger) released in 1969; Robin knows it from her parents.

Two-bit means cheap in general, but also two-bits refers to a quarter, so when Eddie says he paid fifty cents for the ring he's saying it cost twice as much as Robin implied (still pretty cheap)

I doubt Eddie knows for sure what alloy any of his rings are made of, but cheap jewelry often contains nickel, and nickel can turn your skin green.

"percent off the gross" is revenue percentage rather than a percentage of the profit, so Max can't be cheated out of money via creative accounting.

#stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #demon steve #my fic #how does something six hundred words long have so many foot notes?

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seafrost-fangirl · 2 months ago

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You know, maybe this is just my opinion, but some of these IC/Rhysand stans REALLY need to evaluate themselves before shitting on my girl Nesta.

Let me explain:

When reading a book, you sort of naturally put yourself in the shoes of the main character. When reading ACOTAR, that’s Feyre for the first three books (sort of 4, but ACOFAS is multi-POV). So the switch to Nesta’s POV can be jarring, especially since we’ve spent the first three books with her on the side, and with Feyre having mixed opionions on her sister, we also do as the audience.

A lot of us, myself included, really relate to Feyre. She’s had to take care of her family, do the emotional labor for friends and family, and had to deal with very real threats from a very young age. I felt seen when reading her books, and I bet a lot of you did too.

When you see someone you looks like you, acts like you, and feels like you get all the attention Feyre gets, all the power, all the riches, all the love? That’s feels great. It feels validating. To see that someone like you is worthy of everything you want? It creates a very tangible connection with the character. She is no longer just Feyre. She’s also Mellisa, and Jody, and Sarah, and Tasha, and Rain, and every other person who’s read the book.

And then we read Silver Flames, and we aren’t with her anymore. We’re with her sister, whom some of us spent the last couple books anywhere from mildly disliking to out-right hating.

Some people just kept on not liking her.

But some of us didn’t.

Some of us saw ourselves in her.

I know I did. I related to Feyre, but it was like Sarah J. Mass read my deepest and innermost thoughts and used them to build Nesta from the ground up.

Now let’s run this scenario back.

People who relate to Nesta don’t get to see those darker parts of them in embraced by the narrative. Nesta doesn’t get power, she loses it. All her wealth and status? Gone. Instead of a manor house filled with love she once again lives in a run-down shack of an apartment, just like she was at the beginning of the story, and she doesn’t even get to keep it. She doesn’t get unconditional love and understanding, and in fact, it seems like some characters are actively trying to NOT understand her.

And for what? Because she doesn’t get along with the members of the IC? Because she’s still processing having her life, everything she wanted, everything she was ripped away? Because she has to deal with unwanted advances from a man she doesn’t like (right after being assaulted by a man she thought loved her)? Because she watched her father die? Because she KILLED a man? Because she doesn’t know how to cope with any of this and it’s only been a year?

Sure, maybe we all can’t relate on a literal level to this, but fiction can be a tool to help us process REAL feelings that have a lateral translation. People who relate to Nesta might not have been thrown in a cauldron, but maybe they’ve experienced a loss of autonomy and had decisions made on their behalf. Most people probably don’t hear their dead father’s neck snapping in the fireplace, but maybe they have PTSD that’s triggered by relatively normal things and have to constantly cope with that while other people look at them with confusion, annoyance, or disgust.

People who relate to Feyre are rewarded by the narrative, people who relate to Nesta are punished by it. People who relate to Feyre know that the IC would like them. People who relate to Nesta know that Rhysand, Mor, Amren, Azriel, and Cassian, the people with whom we’ve spent the last four books, the people who we’ve laughed with and cried with, the people who we just went into battle with… those people? We now know that they’d hate us. Lock us up, force us away from our family, make us relentlessly train for no reason really, and use us and our talents thanklessly no matter how much we do and try.

I’d be fine if it stopped there. I wouldn’t enjoy it, I’d write some fanfic, but I’d been fine.

But that isn’t where it stops is it?

Because people who relate to, or even people who just like Nesta, are being harassed online. I know two separate creators on TikTok who were doxxed because of their opinions on Nesta and how the IC treated her in ACOSF. Expressing even the most mild dislike of this fictional man (Rhysand) got one woman’s address leaked and the other’s place of work. What part of that is okay?

I get some of us related to Feyre. She feels like part of us. Maybe you feel attacked when someone says they like Nesta because Nesta was mean Feyre, so maybe that means they don’t like you, I don’t know. But real human beings don’t deserve to be harassed because of a fictional character’s actions. ESPECIALLY people who didn’t write or create the damn book.

I’m not asking you to like Nesta, because this isn’t really about Nesta is it? It’s about the real people who’re getting hurt because of your words and actions.

Honestly it��s ironic.

You’re throwing vitriol and spewing hatred onto people who did nothing to you, and who don’t deserve it.

Sound like anyone else from ACOTAR One?

#acotar #a court of thorns and roses #a court of mist and fury #a court of silver flames #a court of wings and ruin #a court of frost and starlight #acosf #acowar #acomaf #acofas #nesta archeron #pro nesta #feyre archeron #feyre acotar #ic #inner circle #velaris #night court

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baileypie-writes · 4 months ago

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Do you still write for Joker?

Because I was wondering if you had any headcannons for Joker x Male Siren reader, if you don't mind, of course!! Ooh and maybe the reader really likes jewelry and often loves giving Joker a bunch of random shiny trinkets as gifts? /nfaa

A/N ~ Yep, I still write for him! Just a quick question, what does /nfaa mean? I’m not familiar with that tone tag. Anyways, hope you enjoy!

~Joker With a Siren Boyfriend~

~~~🃏~~~🃏~~~🃏~~~

Fandom: Smile Pretty Cure!

Fanfic Type: Headcanons

Reader: he/him pronouns, a siren

Relationship: Romantic

Characters Included: Joker

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 535

Warnings: Mentions of Reader killing people(drowning)

~Masterlists~

~Smile Pretty Cure! Masterlist~

‼️Glitter Force stans DNI‼️

~~~🃏~~~🃏~~~🃏~~~

~ Being different species, you’d expect Joker to be clueless about quite a few things when it comes to sirens. Though, surprisingly, he’s very educated. You’re not sure if this knowledge existed before meeting you, or if he did research. But no matter which it is, it certainly is nice for someone to understand you. Especially when everyone else doesn’t.

~ Joker truly lives up to his name. He always jests about being hypnotized by your voice as a way of flirting. Both of you know that if that were true, he’d be dead. But it doesn’t stop him. He even jokingly begs for you to sing to him.

Joker: “It’s so dull around here. If only a handsome siren would sing me a song to brighten up my day!”

(name): “Joker, I can’t. Unless you wanna drown in this pool.”

Joker: “But wouldn’t that be such a pleasant way to die?”

(name): “It doesn’t matter. I don’t want you to die.”

~ Even if you can breathe oxygen, he always makes sure there’s water around for you. He wouldn’t want you to dry out! Besides, he wants you to feel more comfortable. Someone who’s native to the water probably isn’t used to being in such a dry environment.

~ The only time Joker ever goes to the human world other than to fight the Pretty Cure is to take you to the beach. He wants you to be able to enjoy the open water without the restrictions of the size of pools. It makes him so happy to see you swimming around as much as you like.

Joker: “How’s the water?”

(name): “Cold and salty. Just how I like it! I admit that humans have good beaches!”

Joker: “Well I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself.”

~ He often reads whatever fairy tales you appear in just to see you or your species. But of course, those stories have happy endings. But Joker doesn’t mind taking some creative liberties. You’ll later find the book with the last few pages ripped out, with brand new, hand-drawn pages in their place.

(name): “‘And then all the fishermen drowned, and the siren claimed more victims.’ What? That’s not how the story goes.”

Joker: “Oh, I know. I just fixed it.”

(name): “Haha! Well thanks Joker.”

Joker: “It was nothing, my dear.”

~ He loves hearing all the stories you have about luring sailors and other humans to their deaths with your song. It’s such a beautiful power to him. He always says that if he were to die, he’d want to do so just like your victims.

~ You’re the only one that Joker doesn’t make fun of or scold for your shortcomings as both a fairytale villain and a member of Bad End. He blames the humans for your losses. And he always comes to your defense if someone else blames you.

Wolfrun: “I heard you failed again, (name)? What’s with that? Did your fishy smell drive them away? Ha!”

Joker: “(name) has no legs, so I imagine it’s hard for him to get around. Do you have an excuse, Wolfrun?”

Wolfrun: “Uh…”

Joker: “I see. I think it’s best you leave now. In fact, why not pay a visit to the Pretty Cure yourself?”

~~~🃏~~~🃏~~~🃏~~~

~~baileypie-writes

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unofficially-ace · 3 months ago

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Star thoughts/liveblog (spoilers ahead ofc)

- If Splashtail is holding kittens hostage have you guys tried….driving him out? It’s literally one guy against the whole of Riverclan, just keep him away from the kits and there won’t be an issue???

- The conflict is kinda stupid I can’t lie, this could be solved if everyone in Riverclan wasn’t such a dumbass

- Cloverfoot is going to die in this battle I can smell it

- I can’t believe we’re getting fascism explained to us through warrior cats

- Berryheart fell down the crunchy mom -> alt right pipeline real

- This book is making me like Tigerheartstar wtf

- Frostpaw I would die for you

- Harestar you’re the most annoying mf ever please die

- What is it with Riverclan and their camp being turned into a prison every other series

- Graysludge and Mistslime are objectively hilarious names

- What happened to Splashtail being compelling why is he just cartoonishly evil and insane now

- There are not enough supporters of Splashtail to make give this any stakes come onnnn, he has like 5 people actually on his side

- I love Berryheart she’s so fucked up

- Wtf is Owlnose doing, why is he siding with Splashtail for no reason??

- Sunbeam you are so stupid my god

- ‘She didn’t realise what she was doing’ yes she did lmao

- RIP Berryheart you were the most compelling villain of the series

- That makes 2 dead female villains and we’re stuck with the boring male one….

- Owlnose you just killed someone don’t try and make me feel bad for you

- ‘The last thing she ever did was save you’ just like Curlfeather….the parallels…

- This feels like setup for Froststar ngl

- I can’t believe Nightheart is the only guy with a braincell here

- Is fogstar going to be a thing??? She hasn’t even been mentioned once before this book

- Riverclan is so stupid it actually pains me

- Why are we still calling them Greysludge and Mistslime that’s literally so mean lol, just call them by their apprentice names

- The tension is actually really good

- Not exactly liking how Splashtail seems to be genuinely mentally I’ll and that’s why he’s evil…

- He’s fuckin dead and we’re only halfway through?? Now what?

- So glad Frostpaw got to be the one to kill him though, that was so satisfying

- Riverclan you can justify all you want but at the end of the day you’re fuckin stupid

- The second he started doing murders y’all should’ve turned on him and it would all be fine

- Hi Mothwing when did you get here

- Lol fuck those guys (fognose and breezeheart)

- Goddamn Berryheart’s funeral scene is some of the best writing I’ve seen in a warriors book for a while, these are genuinely interesting emotions to explore

- Ewww I don’t wanna think about frost having a crush on splash stop bringing this up my god

- Oh fuck yes Frostpaw and Curlfeather angst

- If the rest of this book is just emotional conflict I will be more than happy with it

- Don’t kill off Frostpaw I swear to god

- Kate Cary I’m putting my trust in you

- This scene would make an incredible animation

- Might be my new favourite chapter of warrior cats ever holy shit that SLAPPED

- Fuck off Nightheart I need more Frostpaw

- Having Nightsky and Nightheart is so confusing

- Thunderclan can’t go two seconds without an argument (usually started by Lionblaze)

- I kinda love this type of conflict, it’s much more interesting than Splashtail being crazy

- Podlight is still here???

- Tree does something as a mediator for the first time ever

- Who tf is emberstar (if they’re relevant in Riverstar’s SE then I haven’t read it lol)

- The fact that I genuinely can’t tell if Frostpaw will survive is so good

- Please let the rest of the chapters be Frostpaw I don’t gaf about the others right now

- Whistlebreeze is the cutest name

- Frostdawn!!!! Also cute as fuck

- ICESTAR REALLLLL LETS GO

- Oh my god this chapter is gonna make me cry

- Sunbeam is pregnant and I want to explode

- And that’s a wrap on ASC , genuinely actually enjoyed this book, especially the second half. The emotional conflict was really interesting I gotta be honest, Frostdawn’s almost-dead scenes were so fun and had really good tension. The conflict with Splashtail ended up getting really stale, I’m glad he was killed halfway through because I couldn’t have dealt with that being dragged out for a whole book

#warrior cats #asc spoilers #asc star #star spoilers

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itsseohannbin · 1 year ago

Text

• Like A Volcano | Part One | •

Han Jisung Mini Series

♡ itsseohannbins masterlist ♡

Series Masterlist

Chapter Genre: Fluff 💕Angst⚡️ Crack💥

-Bestfriends to Lovers Trope-

Summary: being best friends with the kings of kpop always has its ups and downs, and when you're offered a spot on the next European-American book tour to promote the publishing of your new book, there's one kpop king in particular who just doesn't want you to go.

Pairing: Idol!Han Jisung x Female Reader x Bestfriend Skz

** Includes two of my own original female characters, both whom are romantically involved with two of the members. Chan x Jo / Minho x Ash **

Warnings: a lil bit of fluff. angst. swearing. sexual innuendos. use of alcohol. best friend skz. selfish han jisung. lots of crying. the boys do not use honorifics.

Word Count: 9.3k

**this chapter is unchanged**

Enjoy!

Lately you’ve been feeling like you were the last of your kind.

You sat slouched back in a drunken haze, your eyes glaring at yet another group of girls as they squealed annoyingly with one another. One of the females, a tall blonde with long hair and even longer legs, had just emerged from a dark room with a male idol you didn’t care enough to recognize. The male removed himself from her side immediately and disappeared into the crowd of people that littered the large house, no doubt looking for his next target, while she was carried away by her friends towards the nearby bathroom. The girls all giggled and whispered in not-so-hushed voices, vying for the dirty details you doubt any of them would experience themselves.

You sent a hard glare to the closed door they locked themselves behind and took a long swig from your red solo cup. Even over the music and ever-growing chatter around you, you could still hear the flock of airheads screaming relentlessly in excitement for their friend.

Girls your age have always been so fucking dramatic and it annoyed the hell out of you.

“What’s wrong y/n? Can’t handle a little competition?” a familiar voice cooed softly in your ear as the cushion next to you sank and a muscular arm hooked itself around your neck. Changbin planted a kiss on your cheek before taking the cup from your hand and chugging the rest of the liquid inside. He gave you a satisfied look at your drink of choice as he swallowed before tossing the empty cup onto the table in front of you. “I never pegged you for the jealous type.”

“Come on Binnie,” you joked, lazily turning your head towards him. “You know I put all those girls to shame.” It took a couple of seconds for your mind to catch up to your movements and you were left giggling at the delayed response of your own brain.

It’s been a while since you’ve been this tipsy and damn, did it feel good.

“You’re damn right you do.” Jisung hopped over the back of the L-shaped couch you were stretched out on and settled himself beneath your legs. He had two red cups in his hands and he handed one to you out of habit, which you happily accepted. “Those chicks don’t even come close to the level you sit on, Bubs.” he purred, his hand coming to rest on your thigh.

You smiled at his words, loving the way your ego grew as each syllable left his mouth.

“And that, my dear Sungie-” you leaned in towards him and flicked his nose. “-is why you guys are my best friends.”

Jisung gave you a wide smile in return and pushed his dark hair out of his eyes before he began toying with the strings that were hanging from the multiple rips in your black jeans.

“Because I’m devilishly handsome and put you on a pedestal not even God can reach?”

You let out a sigh and fell back into the side of Changbin’s body, resting your head against his shoulder for support and cuddling into the warmth his strong torso always emitted.

“Because you guys always lie to me so perfectly that I have no choice but to believe it.” you corrected him before chugging back whatever Jisung had filled your cup with.

You swallowed in disgust as the tequila burned the back of your throat. This was definitely going to be your last drink of the night.

Jisung just smirked at you, choosing not to respond to your words as his hand rubbed up and down your leg soothingly, absentmindedly tracing soft circles on whatever skin he came across.

Changbin, however, took immediate offence to your words, as he usually did, and wasted no time speaking out against your claims.

“Yah! We’d never lie to you, Bunny!” he protested, his phone momentarily forgotten as he frowned down at you.

You turned your head up to give him a blank look.

“Binne, you guys literally lied to me last week about going to the gym.”

“No we didn’t.”

“Yes. You did.” you deadpanned. “I asked if you guys wanted to go and get ice cream, and the two of you claimed you couldn’t because you were meeting Chan for arm day.”

The two boys exchanged a look of confusion before shrugging their shoulders at you. You rolled your eyes at them.

“I literally caught you guys eating ice cream together, at the ice cream place, without me. Do you know how much I had to pay Innie to come with me that night? Dude doesn’t like to be rented out for cheap, I’ll tell you that much.” you muttered before taking another long, treacherous drink from the cup.

Changbin shrugged his shoulders again and gave you a guilty look.

“To be fair, Bunny, the last time we went out for ice cream together you ate half of my sundae.” he stated, as if that made everything better. You glared at him, resisting the urge to punch him in the arm.

“Yeah, because you ate half of my cone. In one fucking bite!” you bit back.

“Hey now, it’s not Changbin's fault he’s got such a large mouth.” Jisung reasoned. Changbin took the opportunity to make the joke you knew would come the second the words left Jisung's mouth.

“I’ll show you something else that’s big.” he smirked down at you, his eyebrow raised mischievously as he popped his chest. You rolled your eyes and let out a groan.

“You guys are pigs.”

Jisung frowned at you. “So mean.”

“Says the one who lied to me.” you shot back, trying to stop the grin that fell on your face as you pulled a pillow out from behind your body and threw it at Jisung. You loved bantering with these two. You sure were going to miss this.

Jisung caught the pillow with his one hand and threw his other up in surrender, nearly spilling his drink in the process.

“Okay, okay, we’re sorry! We did go to the gym, but decided to have some guy time before coming home. You know, just us dudes.”

You feigned offence, turning your mouth down into a frown and pouting at Jisung. You knew your actions would immediately tug at your best friends heart strings, but you continued to push your lip out further for added effect.

“We’ve been best friends for nearly six years now. When did I get downgraded from one of the dudes to just some basic bitch?” You saw the way Jisungs face softened at your pout and you felt victorious. That is until Changbin opened his mouth and made you nearly spit your drink out directly into Jisungs face.

“Since Jisung realized he’d rather fuck your brains out than fist-bump you.”

Both you and Jisung turned to stare at Changbin.

“Oh my god! Binnie! What the hell?”

“Dude, come on. What the hell?”

You and Jisung spoke at the same time, your face twisted into a look of utter shock, while Jisung looked as if he wanted to beat Changbin to death right then and there.

“What?” Changbin laughed, smiling between the two of you as if what he said was the most natural sentence in the world. “I’m just saying.”

“You guys are pigs.” You repeated your earlier statement, rolling your eyes at him and squishing yourself into the corner of the couch.

“Maybe, but you love us.” Changbin said confidently.

“Well, that’s certainly debatable.” you retorted. Changbin just stuck his tongue out at you before pulling his phone back out of his pocket and going back to scrolling, indicating the conversation was done and he was satisfied with the havoc he caused.

You glanced over at Jisung, his face flushed with embarrassment as he chugged his drink back in one gulp. You were going to reach out to reassure him everything was okay and that you knew Changbin was only teasing, but just before your hand reached his, he jumped abruptly from his spot.

“Need another drink.” Was all he managed to mumble out before he disappeared into the crowd.

You glared over at Binnie. “Nice going, Bin.”

Changbin rolled his eyes in annoyance before standing up and straightening his clothes.

“I’ll go take care of it.” he muttered, shaking his head as he shoved his phone back into the pocket of his jeans. You called after him to be nice, but you doubt he heard you.

You took another gulp of your drink, finishing it off completely as Felix then approached the couch with a pout. His lower lip jutted out further than yours had and he looked incredibly cute.

“Lixie," you drawled, concern lacing your tone as you reached out for him. "What’s wrong?”

His eyes were red and glassy, his blonde hair was slightly disheveled and he looked so disappointed in himself you thought he was going to cry.

“I lost against Minho in beer pong.” He immediately took your hand and fell to his knees onto the couch before crawling up your body. He nuzzled himself in between your legs, his head resting on your soft stomach while his arms curled comfortably around your waist. Your one hand instantly ran itself through his slightly damp hair while the other rubbed his arm.

You smiled down at him as he propped his chin up on your belly, his frown growing impossibly bigger. You loved how much of a cuddle bug Felix was with you. It was so comforting and relaxing and nice.

“What did you guys bet on this time?” You questioned with a raise of your brow, knowing full well that Minho would never play just for the fun of it. There always had to be a prize to be won, one that he could hold over the loser for the rest of their days.

Felix let out a whimper.

“My black Chelsea boots.”

You tried not to laugh, but the sound escaped you anyways, earning a groan from Felix as he shoved his face back into the fabric of your shirt.

“It’s not funny, y/n.” he grumbled. You laughed again and patted his head.

“I hate to say it, but you did it to yourself Lixie. You know better than to challenge Minho to a drinking game. Didn't you learn your lesson after you lost your sweater?” you joked, your fingers still running through his hair.

“I just wanted to see him drunk. He’s always the only sober one out of all us males. It’s not fair. And now I lost my favorite shoes because I was a fool.”

You laughed at Felix’ words. Despite him being annoyed and upset, his words came out in a delicate sigh as he relaxed into your touch. Running your nails up and down his scalp only made him sigh again and relax even more.

“Don’t worry, Jo will get them back for you.” You reassured him. Your eyes scanned the crowd until you found Jo standing over on the other side of the room with a soda in her hand, situated across the beer pong table from Minho. She had a mischievous look in her big brown eyes as Chan held her lovingly at the waist.

“In fact, I think she’s about to win them back for you right now.” you continued, watching Jo sink her ball into one of Minho’s cups on her first shot. Minho glowered at her like a delinquent as he proceeded to chug back his drink.

Felix lifted his head from your stomach long enough to glance back at the two of them as they faced off in the intense game of beer pong. He chuckled lightly before laying his head back down.

“She’s so brave.” he whispered in amazement. “No wonder Channie loves her so much.”

You let out a laugh in agreement as your eyes stayed glued on your life-long best friends. They were disgustingly cute, and it made you want to throw up and squeal in adoration at the same time.

You watched as Jo then made another shot, sinking another ball, and Chan congratulating her with a kiss to the side of her head, her colored hair swaying as she laughed victoriously.

“She’s the only one I know who can go toe-to-toe with Minho and actually win.”

Felix laughed before curling his fingers into the back of your shirt, squeezing you tighter.

“I’m going to miss you so much, Bunny.” he whispered, his voice suddenly soft and sad. You glanced down at him and took in the look on his face. You could tell he was drunk from the way his eyes couldn’t quite focus on you, but you could also tell he was a second away from crying. Felix always got more emotional when he drank.

“I know Lixie. I’m going to miss you too.” you murmured.

He swallowed roughly, no doubt trying to prevent the lump in his throat from becoming even bigger.

“What am I going to do without you for the next eighteen months?” he asked. He didn’t even give you time to answer before he continued on his rant. “Who’s going to play video games with me until three in the morning and then help me bake cookies afterwards instead of going to bed? Who’s going to cuddle with me like this while we watch our shows and tell me to shut up when I talk through all the important parts? Who’s going to go on early morning walks with me and watch the sunrise from the roof? Who the hell are Seung, Hannie, Binnie and I supposed to flirt with now?”

You gave Felix a look of confusion at his last words, but he didn’t even glance up from where his eyes were now focused on the fabric of the couch. He just rambled on.

“You’re the last single female in the group you know. If we try to flirt with Ash, Minho will threaten to kick our asses for just looking at his fiancée, and if we try to flirt with Jo, she’ll literally kick our asses. You’re the only safe, tame option available. What are we going to do?”

You let out a sigh at his words and gave his head one last scratch with your nails as you braced yourself for the conversation you knew you needed to have. As much as you loved the boys and their naturally flirty nature, you were now officially no longer single, and you needed them to know that their shameless flirting was doing more harm than good.

“Actually, Lixie, about that. I’m not single anymore.” you spoke slowly, bracing yourself for his reaction. You felt his entire body freeze for a moment before his head popped up at the sudden news, eyes wide with shock.

“Wait, you and Seojun made it official?”

You couldn’t tell whether or not he was grimacing at the news, but you gave him a hopeful grin regardless.

“Yeah, we did last week after dinner.”

Felix smiled, though you noticed it didn’t quite reach his eyes the way it usually did when he was happy or excited. “Congratulations Bunny.”

You tried not to let his lack of enthusiasm affect you. “Thanks Lixie.”

“Guess I should stop doing this then, hey?” Felix then awkwardly pulled away from you before you could stop him, repositioning himself so he was sitting on the couch with your legs stretched over his lap, much like how you were sitting with Jisung moments earlier. Though, unlike Jisung, Felix’s hands stayed on your knees and didn’t wander. You felt your heart drop at the sudden change in the atmosphere that surrounded you two, but chose not to comment.

Your new boyfriend Seojun never got along with Felix, or any of the other single males in your friend group for that matter. He made an effort to be friendly with Minho and Chan, as they were already happily taken, but he struggled to get used to the idea of you being surrounded by six single males twenty-four seven. Even though Hyunjin and Jeongin saw you more like a sister rather than a potential romantic interest, Seojun was wary of them too.

He was trying to be alright with the idea, you knew that and you appreciated it, but you also knew that he wasn’t going to get used to it overnight, so laying down a boundary with the guys was a must if you wanted this relationship to last.

Felix cleared his throat awkwardly and sent you a hesitant laugh when you glanced his way. “Seriously though, Bun, what are we supposed to do now if we can’t even flirt with our best friend?”

You rolled your eyes and cracked a smile at his question.

“Oh, I don’t know Lixie. Maybe you guys should exert all the energy you use flirting with me into finding actual girlfriends while I’m gone?”

Felix granted you a look of complete and utter disgust, the tension that hovered in the air between you momentarily forgotten. “That’s the most ridiculous thing you’ve ever said to me.”

You sighed.

“I’m sorry Felix, but Seojun is growing less and less fond of you guys by the second, which isn’t good considering he wasn’t very fond of you all to begin with. Anytime you guys open your mouths and make a pass at me, he gets more and more agitated. You guys gotta stop, or at least tone it back.”

Felix let out a snort of discontent. You heard him mumble something about trust and relationships, but just as you were about to question him, you were interrupted by the sound of the music being cut short and microphone feedback echoing loudly off the walls.

You and Felix, along with everyone around you, all jumped at the noise and looked towards where Chan was now hoisting himself up onto the DJ’s stage that sat in the far corner of the living room, microphone in hand.

“Excuse me, can I have everyone's attention please?” he spoke loudly into the mic. The bodies that filled the room all turned to look at Chan as he waved at everyone to quiet down so he could talk. “Guys, please, if I can have a moment?” he tried again.

Groups of party-goers began sauntering out of the kitchen while clusters of people sat down along the staircase and others emerged from rooms looking guilty and disheveled. You were always jealous of how easily Chan could captivate an entire room of people in a matter of moments.

Changbin suddenly plopped back down onto the couch next you, wrapping his arm around your neck once more while Jisung took a seat beside Felix. He looked a little less flustered now, but far more intoxicated than he was before.

Hyunjin, Seungmin and Jeongin pushed their way through the crowd and came around the side of the couch, settling themselves at your feet with drinks in their hands, while Minho plopped into an empty chair across from you, pulling Ash into his lap as he did so.

In a matter of seconds, the entire room was quiet, watching Chan in awe as he flashed his dimples and began to speak.

“Thank you all so much for being here tonight. The guys and I could not have asked for a better turn out. I’m sure a lot of you thought that the guys and I threw this party to celebrate our most recent comeback, but this party is actually a going away party we are throwing for one of our closest and dearest friends.”

When Chan made eye-contact with you and suddenly lifted his finger in your direction, you cringed and felt heat rise to your cheeks. Everyone's head turned your way.

“Y/n, Bunny, would you please join me on stage?” He beckoned you to join him. You resisted an eye roll and sighed as you looked up at Chan, your face flushed. You did not want this to be such a big deal.

“Bunnnnnnyyyyy,” Chan teased a second later, smiling at you expectantly. You shook your head and sent him daggers, begging him not to make you stand up in front of all these people. He didn’t let up though, and instead, he jumped down from the stage and pushed his way through the crowd towards where you sat, giving you a look that you knew all too well.

“Touch me and you die.” you threatened.

Jeongin and Hyunjin leaned out of Chan’s way once he reached the couch, and before you could fight back, Chan grabbed you by the wrist and pulled you to your feet. He immediately ducked and picked you up, throwing you over his shoulder like you weighed nothing at all.

He held you firmly with one arm, laughing maniacally as he turned and retreated to the stage, ignoring the way you kicked your legs and begged him to put you down.

“Put me down you fucking heathen!” You squealed, trying to wiggle out of his tight grip.

He didn’t set you down until he was back on the stage, this time joined by Jo, who made sure to give your ass a loud smack before your feet even touched the ground. You glowered at her, but she just smiled and winked at you in return.

She was your absolute best friend in the whole world, like two peas in a pod. She was the Ying to your Yang, the Sugar to your Spice, the Minho to your Jisung, so it was impossible for you to stay mad at her for anything, big or small. Still, you glared at her as she smacked your ass once more before she wrapped her arm around your waist and smiled proudly up at you.

“This girl right here is one of my oldest friends.” Chan announced then, putting his arm around your neck and leaning his head against yours. “She’s one of the coolest, most down-to-earth and loving people I’ve ever met, and tonight, we are celebrating her last night in town, as she leaves for her first ever European-American book tour tomorrow!”

You felt your cheeks and the tips of your ears redden as the crowd of people you mostly recognized but barely knew all erupted into cheers. A lot of them were other idols and groups that trained with Chan and the boys before debut, and they all looked genuinely happy for you, but there were a handful of those who you didn’t know, friends of friends you guessed, who cheered regardless just to feel included.

“This is something she’s been working towards for the last three and a half years! Not only is this her first published book, and first tour ever, but Under Our Stars has just hit number two on New York Time’s Best Selling Books of 2022!”

Again, the crowd burst into cheers at Chan’s statement, your friends being the loudest and proudest of them all, and you fought back a wave of emotion that suddenly entered your body.

“She will be gone for the next eighteen months, so everyone, please, if you respect me and love me, please bid our Bunny goodbye and wish her luck on her journey before you leave tonight.”

Chan paused to grab his drink and raised it in the air.

“To y/n!” he toasted, and everyone in the room toasted along with him. "I am so proud of you Bunny. You deserve all of this. You’re going to kill it out there.”

You smiled awkwardly at the unexpected applause you received, trying to hold back your tears as you planted a peace sign to your dimple and gave the crowd a goofy grin in thanks.

Chan pulled you into a tight hug while the crowd continued to clap for you. You could hear Felix, Minho, Ash, and Seungmin scream your name as Hyunjin and Jeongin began clapping manically. Jisung and Changbin let out a ‘That’s my baby!’ somewhere in the background of the noise, but you were too focused on Chan and his now glossy eyes as you pulled back from his embrace.

“Bang Christopher Chan, are you crying?” you teased quietly, not wanting to draw attention to him. He all but nodded and buried his face into your hair, pulling you in for another tight hug.

“Y/n, you’re one of my closest friends. I’ve known you and Jo since we were in diapers. Writing has always been what you wanted to do, and you’ve spent your life working towards this accomplishment. You got to watch me and the kids live out our dreams, and I’m so excited that we finally get to watch you live out yours.”

The music started up again and people had gone back to what they were doing prior to Chan's dramatic speech, but you were too awestruck by his drunken words to return to your spot on the couch with Changbin. You gave him a frown as the tears escaped his eyes, and you reached up with the sleeve of your sheer shirt to try and wipe some of them away before you hugged him one last time.

“I love you Channie,” you whispered. Chan sniffled once, twice, almost three times before crushing you into his arms, causing Jo to step forward and grab him as he cried.

“Okay Big Guy, let the girl breathe.” she rolled her eyes as she thankfully pulled Chan away from you. “We aren’t saying goodbye until we drop her off at the airport tomorrow. You gotta’ save your strength so you can hold me when I inevitably end up blubbering like a little bitch.” she soothed, the tears still falling dramatically down his face.

He didn’t even care if he looked pathetic. He was so happy for you.

“I’m just so happy for her,” he voiced, practically sobbing into his girlfriend's shoulder. She shushed him and handed the microphone back to the DJ before wrapping her arm around him and pulling his large figure off stage.

You shook your head at him, thankful to have him in your life, before you jumped off the stage yourself and returned to your spot on the couch. People smiled and patted your back as you passed them, congratulating you on your success and wishing you luck, which you awkwardly thanked them for.

When you reached the couch again, you plopped back down in your spot beside Changbin, cuddling into his side. Felix had retreated to the floor with the other three, all four of them watching tiktoks together, allowing Jisung to take his place under your legs once again. Almost immediately after you laid back, Jisung bent his upper body to lay next to you, his head resting on your shoulder as you pulled out your phone and began checking your notifications.

The rest of the night went by like this. You, surrounded by your closest friends, laughing and drinking and enjoying the last few hours of peace you’d have before your life turned into one big stressful puddle. A puddle filled with book signings, late flights, early mornings, meet and greets and more. And even though you acted as if the entire tour wasn’t at all a big deal, deep inside you were scared to death.

*****

You have always been enamoured by Han Jisung.

Ever since you met him pre-debut, you knew he was the type of friend you’d inevitably have for a lifetime. His hard-work and dedication, his playful personality, his big brown eyes and gummy smile. The second he introduced himself to you at Chan’s backyard barbeque, you knew his presence in your life would be infinite.

Sure, he came across as an asshole during his time on the survival show, but you knew right away his attitude was nothing but a façade he had put up in order to protect himself, to mask the anxiety in his brain that never seemed to have an off switch.

But off camera, he was nothing but an introverted goofball who just wanted to be liked by everyone around him. He craved attention and praise, and as he and Chan and the other members who would eventually make up Stray Kids bonded, you and he bonded too, and quickly at that.

It had taken him no longer than two months to worm his way into your heart, and that’s where he snuggled up and stayed, taking up a permanent residence right next to Chan and Jo.

The two of you did everything together. Going out for food, clothes shopping, karaoke, late-night ice cream runs, bike rides, road trips, vlogging on your crappy iphones for no one else except for you two to see. You helped him find beauty in the smallest of things, creating inspiration for his music, and he helped you see the world in a different light, bringing you inspiration for your book.

You two were quick to become the best of friends, the perfect combo, like peanut butter and nutella; loveable on your own but together, you were unstoppable.

You never could pinpoint the exact moment your enamourment with Jisung grew into something more, only that it was after debut, when he really started to find himself. One day he was your best-friend, the next you looked at him as if he hung the stars, because for you, he did.

For you, he would.

Never in a million years did you think he’d feel even an ounce of something in return for you, and when he began bringing home random girls and disappearing into his room with them every Friday night, you knew you’d never be anything more than his best-friend.

But you were okay with that. The affectionate and loving friendship the two of you shared would suffice for the next one hundred years if it had to. You’d take him however you could have him, and if that meant watching him be happy with someone else, then so be it.

It took you a long time to get over some of your feelings for him; some days you still felt like you had a long way to go, but when you met Seojun at the most recent Authors Convention nearly five months prior to this fateful night, it immediately felt easier.

Suddenly, Jisung wasn’t invading every thought, causing a hitch in every breath, being the sole reason for every laugh that bubbled up from your throat. You loved Jisung more than you’ve ever loved anybody else, but with Seojun, it just felt easier to exist, and that was what helped your feelings for Jisung slowly begin to fade.

So, when Jisung wrapped his arms around your waist and snuggled his face into your neck in a drunken stupor, pulling you from your racing thoughts, your breath hitched in your throat, just like it always did. When he planted a soft kiss against your neck right below your ear, small enough for no one else to notice, you froze in place. When a soft whimper left Jisung’s mouth involuntarily, followed by a whispered plea, “Jagiya”, you thought your heart would stop beating right then and there.

Just like it did every time something like this happened.

Before you did something you’d both regret, you had to remind yourself that Jisung was intoxicated and just looking to get his dick wet, that he didn’t actually want you the way you wanted him.

A wave of guilt washed over you.

You knew you needed to tell him about Seojun. As much as you wished Jisung would do it again, you had to remind yourself of the romance you had decided to chase, a promise of a long-lasting relationship with someone who actually liked you back.

You weren’t about to throw that away for a one night stand you knew Jisung would regret in the morning when sobriety took over, no matter how badly a piece of you wanted to.

You needed to tell him, but this was not the time or place.

You gulped as your nerves sprung to life at the mere thought of the conversation, and Jisung picked up on your change in mood instantly. He lifted his head up to look at you in concern as a shaky breath left your mouth.

“You okay, Bubs?” he whispered quietly as to not draw attention to the two of you.

The house was emptying out slowly but surely as the clock drew closer and closer to midnight. A lot of the guests had early morning interviews and practices, so you didn’t expect anyone to really stay past one. But just because loads of people had already said their goodbyes and left, it didn’t mean there weren’t dozens more still lazily hanging about.

The music had dwindled significantly, leaving the room filled with nothing but noisy chatter. Chan and Jo were beginning their slow clean up of the house, accompanied by Minho, Jenn and Felix, but it still felt too crowded to have such an important talk.

“Yeah, I’m okay.” you gave him a reassuring smile, ignoring the way his hands ran up and down your sides. “Can we maybe go somewhere a little quieter? There’s something I need to talk to you about.”

Jisung gave you one of his goofy, gummy-filled grins and nodded before pulling himself up and off the couch. He grabbed you by the hand, lacing his fingers with yours as he pulled you to your feet and dragged you away from the crowd.

“I’m actually really glad you asked. There’s something I’ve been meaning to show you and I think now is the perfect time.”

You were silent while Jisung pulled you up the staircase and down the hallway towards his bedroom.

“I finished this song yesterday and I really need your opinion on it.” he spoke again as he pulled you into his room and shut the door behind you. He guided you excitedly to his desk and pushed you down into his computer chair, ignoring the way you sighed at him as he opened his laptop and loaded up his music file.

“Sungie, this isn’t really the ti-”

“Please Bubs? Please?” Jisung interrupted, a hopeful look on his face, his hands praying for you to hear him out. “Please, I just need three minutes of your time and then you can have the floor for as long as you want. It’s really important to me.”

You couldn’t help but give in after seeing the twinkle of anticipation in his eyes. You always loved how excited he got over the tracks he made, and how you were always the first one he showed them to. Sure, you knew almost nothing about producing music, just the basics you learned from Chan and Changbin, but Jisung always took your feedback seriously and worked his ass off to make sure each and every track was perfect.

“The working title right now is Volcano. It’s my favorite track yet.” he explained. He handed you his big headphones and helped you place them comfortably on your head before pressing play.

Jisungs expression while he watched your reaction was a mixture of anxiousness, enthusiasm, and hope, and you knew by the intensity of his gaze that this wasn’t just another track he’d stirred up in a day's time. He slaved over this track for months and your opinion and feedback alone would either make or break his decision to release it publicly.

The song was absolutely incredible. You never heard a song so raw, so passionate, so intense before, and you felt yourself get goosebumps along your arms and legs with every word.

You closed your eyes and allowed your entire body to get lost in the beat, the emotion behind Jisungs voice overwhelming you so much that you found tears building up in the corners of your eyes as you listened to the melody, the tune, the lyrics.

It made your heart flutter and clench in pulses, and when that chorus crashed back into your eardrums one final time, you felt like your heart was going to beat out of your chest and explode.

It was fucking phenomenal.

And then it was over way too soon.

Jisung was quiet while he watched you, smiling while he brought his hand up to wipe away the tears that managed to escape down your face. He waited patiently as you hit the replay button and listened to the song again, not once, not twice, but three more times.

Immediately, it became your favourite song.

After your fourth playthrough, Jisung waited patiently while you salvaged your composure, breathing through the emotions that had hit you like a brick.

“Sungie,” you whispered, shaking your head in amazement as you finally turned to meet his gaze. “That song is-” you trailed off, unable to even find the words to describe what you were feeling right now.

Despite the tears in your eyes and the proud look on your face, Jisung was still nervous.

“Did you like it?” he asked while wringing his hands together.

You let out a huff of laughter, shaking your head in disbelief.

“Like it? Jisung, it’s fucking beautiful. I love it.” you told him honestly.

A breath of relief left Jisungs mouth before his face fell into one of the brightest, cheekiest smiles you’ve ever seen.

“Thank fuck.”

Another laugh bubbled out of your mouth and you gave him a look of endearment.

“What? Was my opinion really that important?” you teased, knowing full well that it was. You were completely unprepared for the next words to slip past his lips.

“Well yeah, I wrote this song for you, Bubs.”

You froze in place, your eyes on his once again as your smile fell.

“What?” you asked.

Jisungs grin grew impossibly wider, his eyes beaming with adoration.

“A fucking beautiful song for a fucking beautiful woman.”

You suddenly felt like you couldn’t breathe.

This is not where you wanted this conversation to go.

“Jisung, I don-”

You were cut off abruptly by the sound of your phone ringing loudly in your pocket. Confused and frustrated at the interruption, you pulled it out and felt a sharp pain stab through your chest.

Seojun.

Of fucking course it was Seojun.

“Shit, sorry Ji, I have to take this.”

You didn’t bother waiting for an answer before you jumped from your seat and paced towards the door, trying to keep your voice low. Jisung bit his lip and watched you anxiously, listening in to the one-sided conversation you were having.

He knew the second he saw Seojuns name pop up on your phone that something was up.

“Hey Seojun…. Yeah, I’m doing good, still hanging with the crew… Yeah, I’ll be heading home in the next hour or so to pack… You know I procrastinate!... Well, maybe when I’m home we can facetime and you can help me pack?.... God, you’re so wonderful…. I’ll call you when I’m home okay?… You too…. Bye.”

Jisung tried to keep it together as he overheard you speaking in a low, hushed voice. He tried to keep cool, but he could practically hear his heart shattering as each word left your mouth. You and Seojun were no longer just friends, and all plans to confess his ever-growing feelings to you after pining after you for so long suddenly dissipated.

All the years Jisung spent trying to make you jealous, trying to get your attention, trying to make you see that you were everything to him and more, was in vain. All his advances and relentless flirting had no effect on you.

You had found someone else.

It was game over for him.

Jisung felt ill.

“Sorry Sungie, wha-” you stopped short when you turned back towards him, noticing the way his head was now hung. His unblinking eyes stared at the ground as wetness pooled at the corners of them, causing panic to set in your bones.

“Jisung, what’s wrong?” He was picking at his thumbnail and didn’t even glance up when you spoke.

He was silent for a moment before, “I don’t want you to leave.”

His voice was quiet and sad, and it shook slightly as he responded. He knew trying to convince you to stay was useless, but now that he knew you and Seojun had taken the next step, he was desperate to grasp at straws. He needed you to stay.

You frowned at his words and sat next to him in the chair, taking his hands in yours. You rubbed your thumbs over his knuckles, urging him to stop picking at his skin.

“I know Sungie. This next year and a half is going to suck, but we’ll survive it. We always do.” You reassured him. You were completely oblivious to the reason behind Jisungs sudden change in mood, and it was making him feel worse. He hiccuped and a drop of water fell onto the back of your hand, followed by another, and you felt your heart crack.

Jisung was crying.

“Sungie, what’s wrong?” You asked him again, instinctively pulling him into a hug. His arms snaked around your waist without hesitation and he buried his face into your neck. You could feel his tears soaking your skin and you found yourself holding back a sob of your own as your hands ran slowly up and down his back.

“Please don’t leave me. Please, Bubs. I need you. I need you here with me. Please stay.” he cried. He hated groveling, hated being weak like this, but he had to find a way to stop you from leaving with a man who didn’t love you the way he did. He’d do anything.

“Ji.” you whispered as you pulled back to look at him, brushing stray hairs out of his eyes as you wiped at his tears. “It’ll be okay. I promise.”

Jisung shook his head and let out another choked sob before he swallowed and did the last thing you ever expected him to do. He quickly brought his hands up to cup your cheeks and pressed his lips against yours roughly, pouring every ounce of love and adoration he had for you into the kiss he’d been waiting years for.

His lips were warm, soft, and felt like heaven against yours, but the shock of his actions caused you to pull away from him in total confusion.

“Sungie, what the hell are you doing?” you asked, unsure how to process what had just happened. Jisungs hands stayed glued to your cheeks as he pleaded.

“Please, don’t go. Not with him.”

You froze at his words. Dread and confusion turned your stomach to mush and you felt like you were going to throw up as Jisung continued to speak.

“Seojun's an asshole. He’s not good for you. I don’t want you to go with him. None of us want you to go with him.”

You pulled your face out of Jisungs hold and leaned away from him, a look of betrayal and shock clear across your features.

“I’m sorry?” There’s no way you had heard him right. “What do you mean none of you want me to go with him?”

Jisung wiped at his face, trying to dry the tears that continued to pour out at your silent rejection.

“The only one who likes him is you, Bubs. The only reason we even tolerate him is because Jo asked us to.”

You blinked at his statement, feeling another wave of confusion wash over you, followed by irritation and then downright annoyance. Your brain was honestly still trying to process the kiss you two shared, but your mouth was five steps ahead.

“What the hell is your problem?”

“Do you love him?” Jisung abruptly asked.

“Jesus Jisung. I don’t know! We haven’t even been dating for a whole week, you idiot!”

“So you don’t love him?”

He knew he was being an idiot now, sputtering out any type of bullshit he could to try and save this. He knew it was useless, but he always told himself he wouldn’t go down without a fight, and a fight is what he got.

“What the fuck, dude?” You threw your hands up in exasperation, growling at his stupid inquiries. Jisung winced at your change in tone.

“I’m sorry Bubs. I don’t like him. He’s not good for you! You and I both know the only reason you’re with him is because he got you published.”

That was a low blow, he knew it. But the connection from his brain to his mouth had been severed and all he could do was ramble, letting his emotions take control.

“Are you-? Are you saying the only reason I was invited to go on this tour is because of him? As if I couldn’t have done any of this myself?” you spat, feeling your anger boil. Jisungs eyes widened as you misunderstood what he was trying to say.

“Jesus, Bubs, no, that’s not what I’m saying. I’m just-” he paused and ran a hand through his hair, pulling on it roughly in frustration before letting everything out, rendering you speechless.

“I am so fucking head over heels in love with you, y/n. Can’t you see that? I’ve been in love with you since before debut. I have spent years trying to get your attention. And suddenly, this asshole shows up out of nowhere and kicks me to the curb? I should be the one going on this tour with you, travelling with you, making memories with you, not him. I should be the one beside you, holding you while you live out your biggest dreams. It’s always been you and me.”

At Jisungs sudden confession, a new wave of emotion overcame you. The anger, the annoyance, the irritation all drained from your body and you were left with nothing but tears suddenly pouring out of your eyes the same way they were pouring out of Jisungs.

You had waited for so long to hear those words come from his mouth. You had dreamed of him confessing to you and kissing you the way he had so many times, in so many different ways, so why was your heart breaking impossibly more instead of soaring the way you always imagined it would?

Why was he doing this?

Why now?

You let the tears fall down your face freely, not bothering to wipe them away while Jisung sat on the stool, staring at you with so much conviction in his big, beautiful eyes. Anger, sadness, adoration and love, regret, hurt. All of those emotions shone back at you and you felt every single one of them as if they were your own.

“Why are you bringing this up now, Sungie?” you whispered, desperately searching for reason. “When I’m less than twenty-four hours away from going on the biggest adventure of my life. Why?”

Jisung’s face softened as he reached forward and grabbed your hand. He watched you hiccup and sniffle while he rubbed his thumb over yours in an attempt to help you calm down.

“Because I don’t want you to leave,” he whispered.

If his confession didn’t throw you for a loop, this last sentence definitely did, and you found yourself jumping out of your seat, the bubble of anger suddenly returning.

“That’s bullshit Jisung! Are you fucking kidding me right now?" you spat out in disbelief. "I have known you and the guys for almost six years. I have done nothing but support you and cheer for you from the sidelines while you’ve been living out your biggest dreams on stage, becoming the superstar you always said you were born to be. I have stayed up with you for nights on end, helping you make your mark in this industry, watching you create and produce beautiful music. I have stayed behind while all ten of you guys go on tour without me and I haven’t complained once because it’s been your dream, and now that I’m about to go live out mine, you’re telling me you don’t want me to go? Do you know how fucking selfish that it?”

You began pacing around the room, searching for something to punch while simultaneously trying to resist the urge to break anything you could find. Jisung sat planted on his stool, staring at you.

“I’m sorry.” he spoke low enough that you almost didn’t hear him. You did though, and his words caused you to whirl around on him once more, your face now covered in mascara-stained tears while every emotion you were feeling brought an unruly red to your face.

“No, you’re not! If you were really sorry, Jisung, you wouldn’t have even brought this up in the first place! So why are you? Why now? If you’ve felt this way about me for as long as you’ve said, why now? Why not a month ago? Two months ago? A year ago? Three years ago? If you’ve felt this way about me since debut, why haven’t you told me?”

Jisung’s face scrunched up into an expressionless laugh as he crossed his arms and gave you a sceptical look.

“Do you honestly believe if I had told you how I felt all those years ago, you would’ve had an ounce of feelings for me in return?” Jisungs face was quizzical and sour, his voice dripping with a sudden poison as he glowered at you.

He was oh-so impossibly wrong.

It was your turn to let out a humorless laugh.

“Contrary to popular belief Jisung, yeah actually, I would’ve. I did.” you answered. In a split second, Jisungs demeanor flickered, his eyebrows softening at your words and a puzzled expression found its way to his face.

“Wait, you what?” he asked in surprise. You hesitated for a moment before spilling out your own confession to him. You two were already this deep into the fight, there was no point in holding back now.

“Jisung, I have loved you since the moment I first met you. I fell in love with you after watching you work your ass off every damn day, doing everything you possibly could do to make sure you’d survive another week on the show. The hours upon hours of dedication and hardwork you put into being the best version of yourself possible. Being the most vulnerable, unapologetically, truest version of yourself. I watched you fall and fail, and I watched you fail better. I watched you grow from this small, innocent little dickwad of a teenager to this confident and cocky grown ass man who oozes charisma and charm and happiness everywhere you go. I have loved you since day one, so don’t tell me I wouldn’t have.”

Jisungs eyes widened at your confession, his eyebrows disappearing behind the hair that hung across his forehead. He choked out a breath, shaking his head at you incredulously.

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

You swallowed roughly around the lump that sat idly in your throat, willing your tears to stop.

“Maybe because I had to watch you stumble back into the dorms with a different chick on your arm every Friday night for four and a half fucking years! Yes, watching the one person I loved more than anything else in this world hook up with some random bitch who didn’t know the first thing about him really instilled a lot of confidence in me.”

You saw the way Jisungs eyes fell at your use of words, and you had to force yourself to look away from his face before you changed your mind.

“Wait, loved? As in-”

“Past. Tense.” You lied, glaring at the Han Quokka plush that sat on his dresser. Another one sat directly beside it, wearing a pink shirt and a tu-tu, meant to represent you. Quokka Prince and his Quokka Princess.

“Fuck.” Jisung spat, bringing your attention back to him as he removed himself from the stool and rushed towards you. You glanced at his face and regretted it upon seeing a new wave of waterworks streaming down his puffy cheeks.

“No, no, no, no.” he begged quietly, his hands coming up to cup your face once more. “Please, Bubs, I’m so sorry. I’m so incredibly sorry. For everything.” He planted a soft kiss to your forehead and you restrained yourself some melting into the feeling. “Please, stay with me tonight, yeah? I can fix this. We can fix this. We can talk about this and figure it out. Please.”

You hated the way butterflies tore through your stomach as soon as his hands rested on your cheeks, his big brown eyes staring into yours in a way you always wanted them to. You hated the way your head tilted up towards his automatically, silently screaming at him to just kiss you again. You absolutely despised the way you trembled under his touch as the pads of his thumbs wiped at your wet cheeks.

You couldn’t. You wouldn’t. You would not let yourself do that to Seojun, and you sure as hell weren’t about to pass up the opportunity of a lifetime that waited for you, no matter how much he begged. You couldn’t. You weren’t going to throw away your dreams for him.

But with the way Jisung was holding you, it was nearly impossible for you to say no. Which is why you pulled your head out of his grasp once again and furrowed your brows together.

“You’re not listening to me, Jisung.” you whispered, your head now falling forward as you forced yourself to break your best friend's heart the way you always promised him you wouldn’t. “I don’t love you. Not like that. Not anymore.”

It was the biggest, filthiest lie that ever left your mouth, and for once, Jisung didn’t catch onto it. He didn’t hear the tremble that caused you to stutter over the words ‘I don’t’, and he sure as hell didn’t hear your heart shattering into a million tiny pieces as you spoke.

You stepped away from him and turned to leave. You needed to get out of this room, this house, before your emotions got the better of you and made you stay. You had an adventure waiting for you, you had fans to meet and books to sign and conventions to attend and memories to make, and you knew that if you stayed for even a minute longer, your resolve would break and you’d never leave Jisung or his room ever again.

“Where are you going?” Jisungs broken and defeated voice was small, but you stopped in your tracks as if he’d yelled.

“I’m going home to pack my suitcase and then I’m leaving for my tour. If this is still something you want to talk about when I get back, fine, but you’re not ruining this chance or this relationship for me. I’ll see you at the airport tomorrow.”

You took another step towards the door when Jisungs next words cut through you like a knife. His voice was hard, sharp and clipped.

“No, you won’t.” You knew if you turned back around, Jisungs face would be that of a total stranger. Stoic, numb, emotionless. His words forced a sob out of your throat at his abruptness, but you didn’t dare turn around

“I’m sorry y/n.” your name already sounded so foreign coming from his mouth, and it was then that you knew nothing between the two of you would ever be the same again. Chan always said the infamous Han Jisung loved hard and hated harder, and boy was he right. You could practically feel the daggers he was shooting into the back of your skull.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t say goodbye and let you run off with someone who doesn’t love you the way I do. I can’t let you run off and make the biggest mistake of your life. I won’t.”

You bit your tongue and swallowed hard, forcing tears back as your blurry vision found the polaroid picture of the two of you Jisung had sticking out from his lightswitch cover.

It was a candid photo Hyunjin had taken of you guys at the beach nearly three years ago. The two of you had your hands interlocked and you were dancing and laughing along the shore of the beach, the sun setting beautifully in the background. Neither one of you even realized Hyunjin took the photo until two months later when he gave it to Jisung as a birthday present.

It was your favorite photo.

The lump in your throat grew bigger as you ripped your eyes away from the memory, knowing you’d never get that feeling of happiness with Jisung again. Not after this.

“Fine,” you sniffled one last time at his harsh and hurtful words. “I guess I’ll see you next June.”

And with that, you left.

Here we are, back at part one again!!!

Hope you guys enjoyed it as much as I did!

As always, feedback & interactions are always welcome and greatly appreciated!! Thank you for reading!

Hannji Asks: what was your favorite part from Part One?

lmk in the replies or with an ask!

See you soon for Part Two!!

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

Taglist: @sungshineworld @collisvng @ihrtlix

If you want to be added to the taglist, let me know!!

Next Part

#Like A Volcano #Like A Volcano Mini Series #Hannji's Mini Series #han jisung mini series #han jisung x reader #best friend skz #stray kids #han jisung fic #skz han #bff skz #LAV by Hannji

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mysterious-ocarina · 2 years ago

Text

Multi-Bitch

Chuuya Nakahara x reader

A/N my longest fic yet, I just couldn't stop writing. I love him so muuuuch. Fun fact, I only started the show because I saw a random edit of him and dazai and decided I needed a piece of that. also just got caught up on the manga and boy oh boy such a good story!!!

please give me recommendations for books to use as abilities or just abilities in general for bsd content

Main Masterlist BSD Masterlist Requests AO3

(3.7k words)

“You have got to be kidding me,” you groaned. “Out of all the Port Mafia members that you could have paired me with, why did it have to be him?”

Ranpo was sitting in front of you, happily enjoying his bag of chips. You were tempted to grab the bag from his hands but you were too nice of a person to do it.

“Because, you guys would be a good combative match,” he informed you, mouth full of food. “I already know where you two need to go and what to look for. The mission shouldn’t take long, even for idiots like you guys.”

You would have strangled Ranpo’s scrawny neck if Kunikida hadn’t stepped in. “Look, I know you don’t like working with the Port Mafia, much less him, but it needs to be done.”

Kunikida’s right. There was someone out there killing people without leaving any trace of being there.

“And we’re sure that this is an ability user and not something that the police can handle?” you asked. For all you know, it could just be a very thorough criminal. You were going to try anything to not do this mission, not that it will work.

“Am I ever wrong? Nope, so best run along,” Ranpo waved at you with a giggle.

You sighed before grabbing your stuff at your desk. You made your way to the cafe downstairs, waiting for your partner to arrive.

“Well, if it isn’t Multi-Bitch. Didn’t know you would be my partner for this,” the one and only Chuuya Nakahara voiced behind you.

“Keep calling me that and I’ll spill my coffee on you, it’s still hot,” you replied, refusing to turn around and acknowledge him.

Chuuya took a seat next to you, “Do you know where we are supposed to go? I want to get this over with so I can get away from you faster.”

Being as professional as you could, you handed him a piece of paper with the address on it. “The ability user should be in this inn. We need to stake it out, and figure out which guest is the next target, then prevent anything from happening.”

“I don’t understand,” he replied.

“Of course you don’t. I wouldn’t expect someone as hot-headed as you to understand strategy,” you easily retorted back.

Fuming, getting close to your face, “I understand strategy, just not this one. How are we supposed to figure out who the next victim is?”

Pushing his face away from you with your finger, you coolly answer him, “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe we’ll find out the next victim when we watch a suspicious person trying to break into another person’s room. God, you are so incredibly dense.”

“You know, one day you’re going to get what’s coming for you. I would love to beat you in a fight,” Chuuya replied, red in the face with anger.

“Can’t wait,” you shrugged, getting up from your seat. “As exhilarating a fight with you might be, I think we both know which of us would end up the victor.”

“We can test that out right now,” Chuuya replied, grabbing your arm and pulling you into him.

You didn’t have a reply as you stared up at him. The hand on your arm felt like it was burning and there was some unknown feeling buzzing between the two of you. You opened your mouth to offer a mean retort but nothing came out.

“Let go of me, asshat,” you replied, instead. Seething, you ripped your arm from his grasp and made your way outside the cafe to get this mission started.

You didn’t dare look back to the man behind you, but you heard as he sighed and followed you out the doors.

Chuuya hopped onto his motorcycle. You tried to not focus on the way his hands gripped the handlebars and the way his thighs looked, straddling the machine. You hopped on too and wiped your hands on your pants, a nervous habit.

“Grab on to me tight, princess. Wouldn’t want you to fall off,” he paused, turning his face to look at you. “Actually, in that case, nevermind.”

“Oh, fuck off,” you barked, wrapping your hands around his waist. You could feel his stomach clench as he laughed at you.

The entire ride to the inn, you thought about the man in front of you. Sure, he pissed you off to no end, but that didn’t mean you were blind. He was certainly attractive, especially with the confidence he carried himself with. If you were to see him on the street, without knowing him, you would have thought he was your type.

That didn’t seem to matter though because he seemed to make it his life mission to piss you off. He antagonized you more than Dazai antagonized him, which was saying a lot. You two have never had any combat fights thankfully, ‘cause his ability could definitely overpower yours if he wanted to.

“We’re here,” he announced, parking his motorcycle. You let go of his waist and stretched your legs.

Chuuya stood, leaning against his bike, “How long do we have to wait?”

“I don’t think too long. All of the murders happen around this time so if we go by that information, they’ll be here within an hour,” you replied.

The both of you sat in tense silence, as you watched the inn for anything suspicious. Finally, you broke the silence, “Lemme ask you something.”

“Go ahead,” Chuuya waved his hand at you, clearly bored.

“Why are you so hostile to me? It can’t possibly be just ‘cause I’m in the agency,” you asked. You always wondered why the two of you had the kind of relationship you had. Most of the mafia and agency were pretty much indifferent to each other. The only serious discourse was between Atsushi and Akutagawa as well as Chuuya and Dazai. Then there's you and Chuuya, which doesn’t really feel like hate but it certainly does not feel warm and fuzzy.

“You’re so easy to bother, it’s funny to me,” he paused, as if he wanted to continue but chose not to elaborate.

“You hate me, just because it’s easy to,” you seethed, stepping up to him.

“Woah, woah. I never said I hated you, I just like to piss you off. You’re the one that hates me,” he defended himself, pointing a finger at you.

“I never said I hated you either,” you replied back. You grabbed his finger from in front of you, twisting it back until he yelled.

“You fucking Multi-Bitch. What the hell is wrong with you? How are you going to say you don’t hate me and then hurt me right after?” Chuuya seethed, holding his finger in front of his chest.

“Maybe because I just like to piss you off,” you mocked his earlier statement. “And quit calling me that.”

He got incredibly close to your face again. So close, you could feel his breath on your face. That unspoken tension buzzed between you again. You leaned forward, thinking about indulging in a fantasy you tried to bury deep within yourself. Chuuya seemed to stop breathing as you both stood there, sharing your breaths. Before either of you could do something unspeakable, Chuuya glanced behind you.

“Shit, look,” he grabbed you, pulling you behind a nearby car in the parking lot.

Facing away from him, red dusting your cheeks, you saw what he was talking about. A person walked to each window, looking through until they reached a room with occupants in it. Without touching the door, they opened it and walked inside.

As soon as you heard screaming, the two of you burst into action making your way to the room. You tried the door knob but it was locked.

“Chuuya,” you notified, before stepping back and pointing at the doorknob. He kicked the door down, startling the intruder.

Entering the room, you saw a woman and a small boy, presumably the people staying in this room, cowering in the corner of the room. Then you took in the man who was wearing a mask covering the bottom half of his face. This man, stood between you and the victims, arm outstretched towards a dagger floating in the air in front of him.

He turned to face you, pulling his face mask down. A crazed smile plastered on his face, “What do we have here?”

His voice sent shivers of disgust through you but you’ve dealt with worse so you steeled yourself.

Chuuya, without hesitation, replied, “Two people who are going to kick your ass.”

You sighed, annoyed, “Dude, there’s literally a child right there.”

He shrugged, as if to say oh well.

“Do you want to know why I was able to kill so many people without a trace of evidence?” the man asked, stepping away from the family and closer to you.

“Not really, but I bet you’ll tell us anyway,” you rolled your eyes, looking like the definition of nonchalant. In the corner of your eye, you saw Chuuya smirk at your attitude.

The man stepped closer to you. As uncomfortable as his proximity made you, each step further away from the victims was a small victory for you.

“Using my ability, I don’t have to touch anything. No fingerprints on the door, nor the blade I use. You would be surprised how easy it is to evade getting caught by only simply not leaving fingerprints,” the man rambled.

You and Chuuya shared a look. A telekinetic ability user shouldn’t be too hard for the two of you but you need to get the victims out of harm's way as soon as possible.

“You know, most people would use their telekinesis to get the tv remote when they're lying down. I guess most people aren’t psychotic like you,” you smirked.

Before the man could reply, Chuuya ran at the man, aiming a kick to his stomach. Knowing that Chuuya can handle a decent fight, you used his distraction to get to the woman and boy.

“Don’t worry, I’ll get you out of here,” you whispered. You wiped a tear from the boy’s face and gave him a soft, comforting smile. You grabbed his hand and gave the woman a smile too. Once the woman and child were outside and safe, you made your way back into the motel room.

The man had straddled Chuuya and had his dagger dangerously close to Chuuya’s neck. Coming up behind the man, you wrapped your legs around him before flipping him over behind you. While he was disoriented, you grabbed Chuuya’s hand, helping him up.

“I had that,” Chuuya complained, dusting scuff marks off his pants.

“Sure you did,” you rolled your eyes, sticking your tongue out at him.

Before Chuuya could retort, the man got up. Both you and Chuuya got ready for more fighting.

“You thinking what I’m thinking?” you questioned, holding your hand out.

“I think so, princess,” Chuuya replied, grabbing your hand tightly in his.

You let your ability loose, watching as multiple exact copies of yourself and Chuuya materialized around the room. Chuuya had you and your copies lightly hovering over the man, towering over him.

“Over here,” you giggled, your voice echoing from all directions of the room from each copy of you.

You watched the man look around his surroundings wildly, not knowing which copy was the real one.

“I may not be able to hurt you because of your ability, boy,” the man seethed. “But I can certainly harm your lady friend.”

Before either of you could move, you watched as the man controlled his dagger, making it fly through the air into each of your copies, too fast to dodge. One by one, each of your copies dematerialized as they were hit with his flying dagger, until eventually you felt a sharp pain right below your stomach.

Letting go of Chuuya’s hand to hold your stomach, you fell to the ground.

“Stupid bitch, you really thought you could beat me. I must take your lives in place of the two you guys saved,” the man chuckled.

You looked down at your hands on your stomach, gagging at the amount of blood covering them. Not able to think straight, you weren’t entirely too sure what happened but you could see a blur of a fight until Chuuya was straddling the man.

You couldn’t move, and it was then when you realized why there was no sign of struggle in any of the victims. There was a paralytic chemical laced on the blade. You coughed up blood, alerting Chuuya.

“Shit, it’s gonna be fine, princess,” Chuuya panicked. He crawled towards you, reaching for your stomach. You grabbed his hand the best you could in your state.

“Chu-” you coughed again, eyes becoming glassy. “Don’t touch it. There’s something on it that paralyzes his victims.”

“Well what the hell do I do then? We need to stop the bleeding, I’ll call the agency. That doctor girl of yours should be able to help, right?” Chuuya rattled. His anxiety was palpable but you felt eerily calm.

“L-look how bad I’m bleeding. They won’t get here in time,” you coughed again. You could taste the blood in your mouth. “Didn’t know getting stabbed in the stomach could be so bad.”

Chuuya sent out a quick text before giving you a half hearted chuckle, “Still sassy as ever with your own blood covering your front.”

“It’s my best quality,” you lightly boasted. You felt light-headed, “I’m tired, Chuuya.”

You let your head rest against the wall behind you.

“Oh no, princess. Don’t close your eyes,” Chuuya quickly instructed. He pushed some hair away from your blood soaked mouth. Voice cracking, “Who am I supposed to argue with, if you’re not here.”

“There’s always Dazai,” you chuckled, earning an eye roll in response. “I-I never hated you, Chuuya. Actually, I quite enjoy our light-hearted banter. It makes me feel like a normal person, not some gifted powerhouse, capable of murder.”

You never heard his response as you slipped into unconsciousness.

“Well if it isn’t Port Mafia Exec. Chuuya Nakahara. . . again,” Dazai commented. He had walked up to your infirmary bed, only to find Chuuya in the uncomfortable chair beside your bed. He had bags under his eyes.

Yosono was able to fix you up, considering how close to death you were, but you still hadn’t woken up a few days later. Chuuya had refused to leave your bedside, surprising not only himself but those of the agency.

“Shut it, asshole,” Chuuya replied, not in the mood to deal with his former partner.

“Why are you still here?” Dazai questioned, getting into Chuuya’s face. “Hoping she dies and you can bring information to the boss.”

“I don’t know why I’m here. I just know that I’m not leaving till she’s awake,” Chuuya replied in a hostile voice. His own feelings were confusing him.

“Aw, do you like our dear y/n?” Dazai teased.

“Do you need something, asshole?” Chuuya hastily replied, dodging the question.

“You’re as transparent as always. I know you well enough to know how you feel,” Dazai bragged about his intelligence.

Lacking a response, Chuuya just rolled his eyes with a groan. Taking pity on the poor man, Dazai dropped a bag of food on your bed in front of Chuuya.

“There’s food for you and her. I know you haven’t eaten and neither has she. She’ll probably wake up today,” Dazai waved his hands at Chuuya.

Ignoring the fact that Dazai was nice enough to get him food, he questioned, “How the hell do you know that?”

“‘Cause, I know everything,” Dazai boasted.

“God, I hate you,” Chuuya seethed. Dazai simply left the room, laughing as he went.

You opened your eyes, quickly shutting them as you were blinded by the bright lights. You could recognize the clean smell of the agency infirmary, meaning you were in fact alive. You could feel an IV hooked up to your arm and a heavy weight in your hand.

You groaned, trying to stretch your muscles but feeling too tired to be able to.

“Well, rise and shine, princess,” you heard a familiar rasp. You opened your eyes fully to see a tired looking Chuuya. “I have food for us to eat.”

“What the hell happened?” you questioned. With a groan, you tried to sit up. Chuuya placed his hands on your back to help you up. You welcomed the warmth of his body so close to you.

“Well, after y-you were. . . hurt, I was able to get Dazai and your doctor. She was able to fix you immediately but you’ve been asleep for a few days. She said that even though she fixed your injuries, the stress on your body would make you in need of rest,” Chuuya explained. He opened up the food bag and handed you a burger. His hand was shaking and you weren’t sure why.

“A few days?” you questioned, taking a bite of your burger, moaning at the delicious taste.

Chuuya hummed an affirmative, taking a bite of his burger. Neither of you said anything as you both sat and ate. You were still hungry after your burger and fries so Chuuya gave you the rest of his burger.

You cleared your throat, “Have you been here the whole time?”

“Yup,” Chuuya replied, refusing to look you in the eye.

“Chuuya~” you sang, teasingly. “Did you want to make sure that your favorite detective was going to stay alive?”

“Well it’s not hard to be my favorite detective when the rest of your colleagues are asswipes, especially a certain suicidal maniac,” Chuuya grunted, not denying anything, arms crossed against his chest.

“I’m honored to be your favorite,” you giggled. “I think you’re my favorite psycho mafia member.”

You watched as crimson covered his cheeks and ears before he turned to face you again, pouting, “Hey, I am not a psycho.”

You hummed, dubiously, “To be debated.”

“Whatever. God, you’re so annoying,” Chuuya replied, not able to hide the smile that was beginning to form on his face.

“Seriously, I’m glad you’re awake,” he nervously informed you, making crimson cover your face this time. “Did you mean what you said, about not hating me?”

“I meant it all,” you replied, confidently. Tired of hiding your feelings from yourself, you were going to be transparent. You grabbed his free hand, holding in yours.

Chuuya stared at your joined hands, seemingly in thought. Eventually he spoke up, “I was really worried about you. Especially because you were talking like you were going to die, which I knew I didn’t want to happen.”

Taking the initiative, you pulled Chuuya’s hand bringing him closer to you.

Face still red, he smirked at your boldness. He closed the distance until your faces were inches apart.

“Earlier, when we were in this position, I wanted to kiss you,” Chuuya whispered. So you weren’t the only one who felt the tension. Good to know.

“What stopped you?” you whispered back.

“Your annoying face,” Chuuya smirked, before closing the distance further.

You shouldn’t have expected any less from Chuuya but he kissed you with passion. It was not a soft and gentle kiss. It was like making out with the devil.

The butterflies in your stomach released with a moan coming out of your mouth. Chuuya smirked, pulling away. He gave you a soft second kiss before backing all the way up.

“Wow,” you said with a sigh. Chuuya gave you a smile. You wiped the smile off his face by saying, “No wonder you were single. Your kissing skills could use some work.”

“God, what is wrong with you?” he groaned. It was your turn to smirk now, which was soon replaced with a smile when he questioned, “Were single?”

“Well, of course. Do you expect me to share my mafia executive?” you asked. Chuuya gave you an eye roll.

“Then if my kissing skills could use some work, can I practice on you, Multi-bitch?” he laughed.

You grabbed the collar of his shirt, bringing him closer to you, “Only if you stop calling me that.”

“Never,” he replied, before swooping in to kiss you again.

BONUS

You were sitting at your ADA desk, finishing paperwork that you were behind on since your injury. You were simply minding your business but when Dazai is around, that doesn’t seem to matter.

“Soooo. . .” Dazai scooted his chair closer to you. “How are you feeling, Juliett?”

“You talking to me? Who the hell is Juliette?” you questioned the maniac in front of you.

“You know, like Romeo and Juliett,” Dazai easily answered. He had a wide smile on his face, making him look more sadistic than over.

You rolled your eyes, “I’m not committing suicide with you. Leave me alone.”

He scoffed at your answer, “First of all, I only ask pretty woman to commit suicide with me. That’s not what I meant. I was talking about you and that waste of space of my ex-partner. If you’re Juliett and he’s Romeo, then that makes the agency the Capulets and the mafia the Montagues. But that doesn’t make sense because I imagine the agency to be blue and the mafia to be red.”

You flicked his forehead, stopping him from continuing his stupid thought. You groaned, exasperated, “Shut the hell up.”

“I’m just saying. I knew you guys would be a perfect match from the start. I am the one who suggested you two for that mission,” Dazai boasted.

“And how the hell would you know we would be a match,” you sighed. You understood Chuuya’s exasperation when it came to the suicidal maniac.

“Because. I just know everything,” Dazai claimed. You got up to smack him in the face. He held his cheek with a pout.

When you sat back down, you saw your phone screen light up with a text message.

Can’t wait to see you later, princess.

You smiled, replying with a that makes one of us :)

#fluff #female reader #one shot #chuuya nakahara #bsd chuuya #chuuya my beloved #chuuya x reader #chuuya x y/n #chuuya x you #bungou stray dogs #fanfiction

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fragaria-imagines · 1 year ago

Note

I want to see first kiss hcs with kurode and wilmesh 🩷🩵

Decided to switch things up and portray this in the boys POV! Hope you like it!!

——————

Willmesh is a simple man, first and foremost, he enjoys the everyday simplicity of life, like drinking tea, reading books, and staying at home. His life heavily relies on routine and order, for he is never one to shake things up and do something out of the ordinary. And while this simple and somewhat ‘boring’ way of life has gained him the reputation of being a hermit and a homebody amongst his peers, he’s perfectly fine with that.

The fact of the matter is, Willmesh does not do well with change, he’s a creature of habit, a homebody, a hermit crab, whatever word or phrase that you can think of that describes someone who likes to live in solitude and spend time in the comfort of their own homes, without the need or want to be spontaneous and outgoing, that’s him in a nutshell.

So what the hell was he doing going out on a date with you?

It was completely out of left field for him to ask someone on a date, let alone wanting to be around someone’s company for too long, yet he can’t deny, something about you was different.

Whereas most people would give out any excuse and bolt out the door if they were asked to stay with him longer than what was necessary, you gave him a bright smile, and enthusiastically agreed to it. Didn’t even have to think about it, you just immediately agreed to it like this was the best question someone has asked you, like you were actually happy to be in his company.

It was strange to say the least, he’s not used to this type of attention, his quiet nature is a turnoff to most people. Many won’t even try to start up a conversation with him, knowing they won’t get a response in return. And whilst Willmesh does feel conflicted with the way people perceive as nothing but a cold quiet giant, he has long accepted that there was nothing he could do about it.

So when you not only accepted his offer but also was just as enthusiastic about it as he was. Just the thought of it, made his heart flutter.

"Are you alright, Willmesh? You look kind of pale" You asked, furrowing your eyebrows in concern. You placed your hand on top of his and gently caressed your thumb over his hand in an attempt to comfort him.

The mere gesture was so small and you probably weren't thinking much of it, but it made him blush all the same. "A-ah yes! Sorry about that Y/N, I must have dozed off..." Willmesh stammered out an apology.

You let out a soft laugh at his sheepish display, and while he didn't love the fact that he just embarrassed himself in front of his long-time crush, he'll do it again in a heartbeat if it means hearing your joyous laugh one more time.

"It's fine Will! And if it's any help, I'm kind of nervous about this too" You admitted sheepishly. A faint blush appeared on your face as you admitted it.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

"O-oh....really! W-what do you mean by that Y/N?"

“I just mean that when you asked me out it kinda made me nervous, you know? But not in a bad way or anything!” You quickly clarified. “I just mean it caught me off guard because I didn’t think you liked me”

Thump. Thump. Thump.

“I liked you for so long but I never thought my feelings were ever going to be reciprocated. I thought at most you’ll only see me as a friend, which is fine but I’m so glad that, that’s not the case!”

Thump. Thump. Thump.

“Oh man, I’m rambling again aren’t I? Sorry about that, I guess I got too carried away haha” You joked, sheepishly rubbing your back in embarrassment.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

Willmesh could have sworn that at any given time, his heart was about to be ripped away from his chest and dance in joy on the cafe's table at the sound of your confession.

And the more you spoke the more his heartbeat got louder and louder.

“You alright there? Willmesh—!!”

Thump. Thump. Thump.

A rush of adrenaline took over his body because one minute he was sitting across the table from you silently. And the next minute he was pulling your body closer to his and capturing your lips in a captivating kiss.

After a moment of shock, he felt your hands wrapped around his neck, pulling him downwards to your shorter frame. He knew he was going to have serious neck pains once this was over but that was a problem for another day.

Regrettably, the kiss had come to an end as he felt you pulling away from him, in an attempt to catch your breath.

It wasn’t until after the kiss broke and saw your flushing face that he realized what he had just done.

“Oh god! I’m so sorry Y/N! I shouldn’t have done that, please forgive me! I’m really sorry…!” Willmesh blabbered on with endless apologies, his face flushing red from shame and embarrassment.

“W-willmesh it’s fine! I’m not mad at you…!” You said, still dazed from the aftermath of the kiss.

“R-really?” Willmesh muttered, not believing his ears.

“Really! I actually really l-liked it…!” You admitted sheepishly.

Like a lightbulb on Christmas, Willmesh’s face quickly lit up at your reassurance. Overjoyed at the notion that you took great pleasure in it.

“Then if it’s alright with you…. Can I kiss you again?” Willmesh asked shyly.

You chuckled at his sudden bashfulness, already knowing the answer.

——————

Second fiddle.

Second best.

Not good enough.

Kurode has heard these words all before, whether it be from classmates, fellow knights, strangers, friends, it doesn’t matter.

And for a while he accepted that was just who he was, that his only role in life was to play second fiddle to his older brother. And for years, he played the role to a T, never stepped out of his comfort zone, never drew attention to himself, never questioned the status quo, acted nice and obedient just like everybody expected him to be.

It wasn’t something he particularly liked doing but what can he do about it? It’s not like anybody cared, not his friends, not his family, and certainly not his brother.

He can’t remember what exactly was the straw that broke the camel’s back that drove him to leave and never look back. All he knows is that he hasn’t looked back since and has no desire to.

He thought after he ran away he was done with everything from his past life, done with Merold, done with being an underachiever, done with being hidden from the world. He thought he left his inferiority complex behind and started anew.

But then he met you and saw how kind you were, how patient you were, how caring you were. Suddenly, he felt his eyes lit up every time he talked to you, he noticed whenever you weren’t around how much he was longing to be with you, he noticed that he smiled more when you’re around, and how much he had skipped out on knight training just to be with you.

He had noticed that he was starting to fall in love with you and that realization terrified him to no end. It felt like every single insecurity and emotion that he has repressed for so long has finally come into the light and he has no idea how to deal with it.

What if you were disgusted by him? What if you saw him as inferior to his older brother? What if you realized just how weak he really is and wants nothing to do with him?

No, deep down inside, he knows that you’ll never see or think of him as anything less. He knows you’re too kind-hearted for that to be the case.

What he’s most scared of is that one day you’ll see him the way he sees himself.

Before he could get inside his head even further, a knock at the door interrupted his thoughts from diving deeper into unwanted territory.

“Kurode? Are you still there?” You called out from behind the door.

Kurode immediately closed his diary entry and quickly got up from the desk that he was writing, before answering the door.

“Oh, Y/N..! I’m sorry, I wasn’t expecting you” Kurode apologized, solemnly rubbing the back of his neck.

“No worries, I was just in the neighborhood and thought I’ll stop by! I hope I’m not interrupting anything because I can just come back at a later time and-”

“No, no, no, no, you’re fine! Really, you just caught me off guard that’s all. Why don’t you come inside?” Kurode hastily interrupts, scooting away from the doorway so you can have space to enter.

You gave him a small embarrassed smile before entering his home, making sure not to step on or break anything.

“Wow, Kurode, your house is so nice!” You complimented, staring at awe at the futuristic technology decor.

He blushed brightly at your compliment, and turned his head away so you wouldn’t see. Truth be told, he didn’t do much of the decorating for it was actually Lord Kuromi who did most of the planning and decorating, but hey, he’ll take the credit nonetheless.

“Tch… t-this is nothing, seriously!” He spat out in embarrassment, his ears now starting to turn red.

“You know you’re so easy to get riled up, Kurode?” You teased, giggling at how easily flustered he was.

“H-hey!”

“Alright, alright, I’ll stop teasing you!” You playfully winked at him, which only made his face redder.

Luckily for him though, you didn’t seem to notice as you casually plopped yourself onto the couch, casually swiping through the tablet that he had gifted you for your birthday.

He sat right next to you, careful to put some distance between the two of you, yet every so often you would lean on him to show him a better view of your screen. And every so often his heart would flutter from your simple touch.

His heart warmed at the sight of how domestic and simple it all looked. He found himself wondering if he could ever have a lifestyle like that with you.

“Hey look at this video! You won’t believe what happened, there’s a video circulating around of Willmesh and the Stella Twins, and apparently Klarkstella…” You chattered endlessly about the latest bouquet news. He didn’t care much about the latest gossip or news that was going around in his continent, much preferring to keep to himself instead of paying attention to whatever else was going around him. Yet, you were so enthusiastic and animated when you were telling your stories that he couldn’t help but indulge you.

“Y/N, I love you…” He thought to himself.

“….Y-you what?!” You exclaimed in surprise, quickly getting up from your comfortable spot next to Kurode, to look him in the eye in disbelief.

Correction, what he thought he thought to himself.

Kurode’s whole body froze when he realized what he had just said out loud. His heart beated in chest so loudly that he could have sworn he heard his ears ringing.

Did he really just say that?

“N-nothing! It’s nothing! What I said was a mistake. I meant nothing by it, I swear!” Kurode backtracked, desperately trying to take back everything he had just said.

“Wait so you don’t love me then? You lied?” You asked, the sadness and confusion were evident on your face.

Kurode wanted to gut himself when he saw your crestfallen expression, the sadness and confusion that you were feeling was clear as day.

But wait— why were you so disappointed about his confession being a lie? Wouldn’t you be happy to not have someone as inferior and weak like him falling for you?

Or do you actually like him?

Inwardly sighing to himself, he chastised himself for being so stupid and naive. He may have completely ruined any chances of getting to be with you, but still, just like every other aspect in his life, he’ll prove himself to be worthy of you.

“No, Y/N I didn’t lie… god, this wasn’t how I wanted it to go but I guess the truth is already out there. I like you a lot, more than a friend but I know you want nothing to do with me romantically, so I’m okay with us just being friends. As long as you’re happy then that’s all that matters to me” Kurode confessed.

You stared at him with wide eyes, not knowing how to respond to his bold and sudden confession.

After a few minutes of silence, Kurode was thinking of excusing himself out of his own home and leaving, but before he could do so, you regained your voice.

“What makes you think I don’t like you more as a friend also?” You retorted back.

Kurode widened his eyes at your proclamation, such a thought never even crossed his mind. He was preparing for everything else, rejection, disgust, awkwardness, uncertainty, humiliation, the whole nine yards, pretty much anything that could have gone wrong, he was prepared for. But acceptance? Now that was a shock to him.

You rolled your eyes at his stunned silence, already knowing where his mind was going.

“I love you too, Kurode, the only reason why I acted so surprised when you said it wasn’t because I didn’t return your feelings, it was because I was caught off guard! I mean one minute I was talking about Klarkstella getting electrocuted by an android and then the next thing I know you’re telling me you love me! Next time, you decide to randomly spring a bomb onto me, mind giving me a heads up first?” You explained.

“Wait….you love me?” Kurode repeated back in disbelief.

“You didn’t listen to a word I said afterwards, did you?” You retorted in annoyance, though you had to admit, it was kind of cute at how shocked he was.

Kurode didn’t hear what you said, still way in over his head at the thought of you even liking him back?

He’s not shallow enough to ever admit it but he knows he’s a decent looking guy but there’s so many good looking guys out there, so what makes him so special that you specifically chose him?

Did he even deserve your love and attention, there’s still so much that he needs to improve and work on that he can’t possibly give you the time of day and attention that you certainly deserve?

You deserve better, he was sure of it, but does that mean he wants to let you go, not all. But is this just another example of him being selfish and putting his needs above someone else’s? Is letting you-

Before he could even finish that thought, he felt a pair of lips pressed against his. He gasped into the kiss when he realized the lips on his were yours.

Oh shit, he’s kissing you!! Or more specifically you’re kissing him. Whoever is kissing who doesn’t matter as he hesitantly yet eagerly returns your kiss.

The kiss was short and fleeting, it was more to snap him out of it more than anything else, but it made him breathless nevertheless.

The sight of your flustered face made all of the doubt that were running through his head quickly disappear. And as he leaned forward towards you for a second proper kiss, he finally realized that this might not be so bad after all.

#🍓: memoria #sanrio #fragaria memories #fragmem #willmesh #kurode #fragaria memories imagines #fragaria memories x reader #willmesh x reader #kurode x reader

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fanficforlife · 2 years ago

Text

Chapter Four

The early morning sun warmed your face while you sat on the porch enjoying a leisurely cup of coffee. You had gotten all of your work done and had the whole weekend off. No plans except relaxing with a book, going for a walk in the woods behind the house and finally calling your adopted grandparents. You had been so busy you only had time to text back and forth. Needing to stay safe and secretive meant not being able to tell them about where you were in case Nick found their cell phone.

"Good morning, Violet." Lee grinned as he walked up the steps, carrying his mug from his house.

"Good morning."

"Do you mind?"

"No, sit."

He sunk onto the empty chair next to yours. "Everything's still going good? Here and back there?"

"Yeah. Things here are going great. I was texting with my neighbors yesterday and they said Nick told them I hadn't been around the past couple of months because I had cancer and needed to go away for treatments."

"He doesn't want people to know you left him."

You nodded and looked out over the expansive yard. "Appearance is everything to their family. Can't have everyone knowing his fiancé ran away a week before their wedding."

"Well, he can let everyone think you're sick. Meanwhile, you will be here living your best life." You giggled as Rip walked around the corner. "Especially when my lovesick little brother musters up enough courage to finally ask you out." Pink stained your cheeks causing him to grin before focusing on the rugged cowboy who just walked up. "Morning, Rip."

"Morning. Morning, Violet."

"Good morning. The coffee pot inside is full and there are muffins on the counter that Tate and I made yesterday."

A crooked smile formed on his face. "I might just take you up on that."

You smiled back as the door next to Lee opened and Kayce and John walked out. "Good morning, Violet. It doesn't look like you are having much luck reading with these two hanging around." John chuckled, glancing down at the closed book on your lap that you had yet to start.

"Good morning. I have all day so I'm not worried."

"Well, we have some things to discuss. We'll be in my office." He informed before going back inside with Rip and Lee, leaving just you and Kayce.

Something feels off. Your brow furrowed. "Is everything okay? Everyone seems a little tense this morning."

"There's just an issue with some of our cattle and we have to figure out how to handle it. Everything's gonna be okay though."

"Good. Well, not good that there's a problem but good that it will all work out in the end."

A warm smile pulled at his lips at your ramble. "I know you don't have to work today and I feel like shit for asking but would you be able to watch Tate. I don't know how long this is going to take."

"Of course, I will. I was actually thinking of going for a walk behind the house so he can make sure I don't get lost."

He chuckled. "He would love to take you out there. My brothers and I built a treehouse when we were kids on top of a hill that overlooks a valley."

"Maybe I'll pack us a picnic." You smiled as you stood up.

"He would love that. So would I."

"Next time you can come too."

"I'm gonna hold you to that." His perfect, crooked smile donned his face and you couldn't help but smile back. "I should go. Tate's still upstairs asleep. Gator's busy in the kitchen and said he would let Tate know you're out here."

"Okay."

"Thank you. I owe you."

"No, you don't."

"Yes, I do."

"Well, if you insist, I like chocolate." You teased.

He smirked but before he could say anything Lee stuck his head out the door. "You can talk to your girlfriend all you want after we get this figured out." Kayce's cheeks went red and Lee chuckled before placing his hands on Kayce's shoulders and guiding him inside. "See you later, Vi."

You giggled. After settling back in your chair, you sent your neighbour's a text letting them know you might not be able to call today because you were watching Tate. It was too early to call them or you would have so instead, you opened your book.

Gator was busy pouring stew into a serving bowl while you and Tate put biscuits in a basket for dinner when they finally emerged from the office.

"Grandpa, guess what me and Violet did today?!"

"Why don't you go sit at the table so you can tell your dad and uncles too?"

"Good idea." He answered you before jumping down and running into the dining room.

"Thanks for watching him."

"How many times do I have to tell you and Kayce that you don't have to thank me."

John smiled as Tate yelled for him. "I'm comin', grandson." He heeded the call and went to the dining room.

"Dish up. I can carry these in there." Gator said, not waiting for a reply and taking both bowls.

You put some in a bowl and grabbed a biscuit, carrying them onto the porch.

"Hey," Kayce said after stepping outside an hour later wearing dark clothes, his cowboy hat nowhere in sight.

"Hi."

He leaned against the railing in front of your chair. "Thanks for watching Tate today."

"Kayce."

"I know but babysitting isn't part of your job description, especially when everyone is home." His eyes went to his hands which were holding a black baseball cap.

"Is everything okay? You don't have to answer, I know It's none of my business. I just-"

He smiled seeing the concern on your face. "I know, we're all okay."

The worry that had been building throughout the day lessened. You stood up and leaned against the railing next to him.

"Broken Rock has some of our cattle."

"The reservation?"

"Yeah, some of our property borders theirs, and our cows ended up on their land. They won't give 'em back."

"You're going to get them back?" You had a feeling you already knew the answer. When he confirmed it the worry started trickling back in.

"Would you be able to watch Tate tonight? I don't know when we'll be back. He's not in the best mood cause I told him roasting marshmallows will have to wait until tomorrow. He's been looking forward to it since you guys went shopping and he picked out those different flavored chocolate bars to use for s'mores."

"Of course, I'll watch him." The trickle of fear turned into a full-blown rushing river when Lee came out of the house and handed Kayce a bulletproof vest.

Lee gave your shoulder a squeeze when he saw the fear in your eyes. "Don't worry, Vi. I'll get him back in one piece so he can finally ask you out. I'll even babysit little man so he can take you somewhere nice." He chuckled when you both blushed. "Well, my work here is done." His eyes sparkled mischievously as gave you a quick peck on the cheek before heading for the barn. "Five minutes, lover boy."

The red hue on Kayce's cheeks darkened. "Sorry about him."

"It's okay." You said as you picked at the wood railing, your mind still stuck on the bulletproof vest.

"Hey," his hand covered yours, drawing you back, "we're gonna be okay. It's just a precaution." The sound of a helicopter approaching made you both look out over the lawn and watched it land.

"Ready son?" John asked as he rounded the corner.

"Yeah," he put the vest on while John looked up at you from the bottom of the steps.

"Thanks for watching him. He's inside picking out a movie for you two to watch."

You smiled at him before he turned and ran towards the helicopter. Your eyes went back to the man who was starting to mean more to you than you thought...or hoped, in some ways.

"I'll be fine."

"I'm not worried about you." You lied. "From what I've heard you did great in the navy. Take care of the rest of them."

"I will." He smiled, squeezing your hand.

"Kayce, let's go!" Lee called out from the driver's seat of a truck with a horse trailer hooked up to the back of it.

"And, don't worry about us. I'm just gonna pump your kid full of sugar while we have a Jurassic Park marathon."

He chuckled. "I'll let you two sleep when we get back and you're both passed out on the couch."

You smiled up at him but worry tinged your eyes. "Be safe."

"Always." After giving your hand another squeeze, he jumped off the porch and ran to the truck. Lee blew you a kiss before they sped off. The helicopter followed.

You watched the taillights disappear behind a hill before going inside. Tate held up the three Jurassic Park movies you had predicted he would pick. After gathering snacks, he cuddled up with you under a blanket. While the first movie played, your mind kept drifting to Kayce. Keep them safe. Please, keep them all safe. You prayed for the family who was quickly filling up your once-broken heart.

*****

A creak of the floorboards drew your attention away from the mountain view out the window. The suns first rays were filtering through the windows, illuminating the cause of the creak. "John?" You gently lifted Tate's head off your lap so you could stand up. John motioned towards the kitchen. "How did it go? Is everyone okay?" You asked after following him.

"Not good. Are Kayce and Lee here?"

The color drained from your face. "N-no." Gator froze, the egg he was about to crack hovering over the pan.

"Damn it. They don't have their phones on them. They probably couldn't get back to the truck so they're just riding back." He said, trying to convince himself in the process. "They're fine."

You gave him the best fake smile you could muster and nodded.

"You don't need to make me anything, not hungry. If they aren't back in fifteen minutes, I'm gonna go look for them."

"Yes, sir. Violet?"

"I...I'm not hungry either."

Gator nodded as Tate came bounding into the room. "Grandpa!"

"Good morning, grandson." John hid his worry and grinned down at him.

"Violet and I had a sleepover in the living room last night. We made ice cream sundaes with a bunch of toppings and chocolate sauce. And, we watched all three Jurassic Park movies! I fell asleep during the third one though so we have to watch it again. Can we watch it today?"

"Uh, yeah. But, you have something to do first."

"Clean my room. And, we were going to make cookies today. We should do that before the movie so we can eat them while we're watching."

John suddenly left, running outside. Your eyes shot to the window and your breath caught in your throat.

Gator noticed and turned to Tate. "I think that I should be the one who makes cookies with you. You're an expert now. I'll tell you what, I'll help you clean your room and you can help me make cookies."

"Yeah!"

"Do you want to know something? I've never seen Jurassic Park."

"What?! Violet, he's never watched it!"

You kept your tears at bay as you tore your eyes away from Kayce sitting on his horse with Lee's body draped across. "What? That's crazy!"

"I know! After we make cookies we could watch them. Oh wait, you probably will be busy cooking."

"I think sandwiches for lunch today and for dinner, ordering pizza. What do you think?"

"Yes!"

"And, cereal for breakfast."

"Yay! We should spend the day together more often. I'll get the cereal!" He disappeared into the pantry.

"Don't worry about him, I got 'em."

"I'm not family. I should stay here."

"I don't know what happened but Kayce will need someone to help him get through this. And, I know without a doubt that Lee would want you to be that person." He gave you a gentle push towards the door. "Go."

You walked out onto the porch just as Rip started coming up the steps. "I was just coming to get you."

"How?" Was all you could get out while you watched John sitting on the ground holding his dead son.

"Kayce said Lee wanted to get a few cows that strayed off. He told him not to go but Lee's stubborn. He raced off and didn't realize one of their guys was watching them. He shot Lee. Kayce got there just as it was happening. He made him pay, killed him." Rip surveyed your face after the last piece of information but it didn't phase you.

"Where is he?"

"He's blaming himself. He won't listen to anyone so John sent me to get you. He took off into the trees." Rip motioned to the woods passed the hill behind the house. "Are you going to be good?"

"Mhm, I know where he went." Rip nodded and you started making your way toward the trees.

After ten minutes of walking, you found him right where you thought he would be, by the treehouse. You went over to where he was sitting in the grass with his knees up and face buried in his arms.

He heard you coming and knew it was you by your soft footsteps so he wasn't startled when you knelt next to him.

All of the nervousness that you would normally feel being this close to him didn't show up. The only thing going through your head was how much he must be hurting. Your hand came up and gently pulled on his arm, making him sit up and flatten his legs. You didn't say anything, just climbed onto his lap. The second you did his arms wrapped around you and pulled you against him, crushing your body against his. You hugged him back. Your hand slid into his hair so you could hold him closer as he sobbed into your neck. Tears streamed from your own eyes from seeing him like this, from knowing what he went through. And, for Lee.

When his shoulders stopped shaking his grip eased and he lifted his head from the crook of your neck. One of your hands left his shoulders and rested on his damp cheek, he leaned into your touch and closed his eyes. "I'm so sorry, Kayce."

"I should have gone with him right away." He opened his eyes, anger flashed through them. "Instead of calling after him to come back, I should have gone with him. He would still be alive."

"You don't know that. There's a good chance that you wouldn't be here either. It's not your fault."

He lowered his gaze. "Yes-yes it is. I-"

"No." Your hands rested against his jaw, forcing him to look at you. "Kayce, I know you did everything you could. It's not your fault." His eyes left yours. "Look at me." You ordered softly and he did. "You tried to stop him but Lee is-was the most stubborn person I knew. Once he made his mind up about something, that was it. You did everything you could. Please," Your voice cracked as tears threatened to fall, "please, don't blame yourself."

He nodded. His hand slid across your cheek and into your hair, pulling you into a hug. "I'll try."

"Promise me." You wrapped your arms around his neck and hugged him back.

"I promise, Letty. I'd promise you anything." He added, his voice barely audible and not meant for you to hear. But, you did and hugged him a little tighter.

"Tate?" He asked after the hug ended ten minutes later.

"Gator's watching him. Tate was so excited. They were going to clean his room and make cookies before watching Jurassic Park."

A small smile pulled at his lips. "Thank you...for taking such good care of him, for everything you do for my family, and me."

"You don't have to thank me for any of that, Kayce. I want to do it. Your family has been nothing but welcoming and Tate is an amazing kid. Whatever you need, I'm here." His watery eyes held yours while the breeze made waves in the grass around you. "Lee was beyond proud of you. He always talked about how great of a dad you are, how loyal you are to your family...he loved you so much." A few tears started sliding down your cheeks.

"He was the one I went to when I needed to talk, he could calm me down when my anger got the best of me. He's gone. What am I supposed to do without him?"

"He will always be with you. He will still be watching from the sidelines when you're spending time with Tate. His hand will be on your shoulder when you want to deck someone."

A chuckle left his lips. "Deck someone?"

"I don't know what cowboys call it. Slug? Clock? Punch seems too formal." You giggled and he smiled, you shyly smiled back. "When Tate and I came out here yesterday he was making a list of things that needed to be fixed on the treehouse. And, what he wants to add." You went on since you could tell he didn't want to go back to the house yet.

"I knew there'd be a few things that need to be fixed from the times I brought him out here. A couple of floorboards. The ladder." He cocked an eyebrow. "He wants to add what exactly?"

You grinned. "Well, he wants a roof because he wants to sleep out here with you but you need a roof in case it starts raining."

"Okay." Kayce nodded.

"A fireman's pole so you can get down in 1.5 seconds." He laughed and you couldn't help but smile whenever you heard it. "Oh, and a barn so you can both ride out here when you spend the night. On separate horses. His own horse which you have yet to buy him."

His laugh filled your ears. "Ah, yes. The horse. He's a bit young yet for taking care of his own."

"Maybe you should just give him yours since he still doesn't have a name yet."

"You think so?" He teased back.

"Yes."

After a few seconds of quiet, he spoke up. "Stay here with me for a while?" You nodded. He shifted so you were sitting between his legs both looking out at the view, his arms wrapped around you. A bald eagle flew overhead before slowly gliding around the valley. Kayce's arms held you tightly while you watched the giant bird floating gracefully on the air currents.

Knowing he was thinking about Lee, you leaned back against him and rested your arms along his, hugging him as much as you could while being in front of him.

The eagle had long since flown off, leaving you watching the clouds drifting along, your fingers mindlessly trailing up and down his arm. Little did you know, a spider was making its way up the back of your leg. His little legs were undetectable through the denim of the jeans you were wearing. It started climbing around, coming up onto your knee. "Ah!" You screamed, frantically brushing it away while scrambling backward.

The sound of Kayce's laugh filled your ears as you climbed onto his lap, getting as much of your body as you could off the ground.

"It's not funny." You said, your chest heaving. He didn't stop. "Stop." It came out with a laugh from hearing his but you gave his shoulder a gentle push.

"It's just a little bug." He let out another laugh.

"Bumble bees and caterpillars are bugs. Spiders are the work of the devil."

"Satan made the spiders?" A chuckle left his lips when you glared at him. His arms wrapped around you, keeping you in place so you wouldn't get up. "Okay. I'm sorry."

You let out a small huff. "No, you're not."

"You're right. I'm not." Your jaw dropped causing him to laugh again. "I'm just buggin' you. Come here." He hugged you and you put your arms around him, hugging him back. "Are you okay or do you need an exorcism? Should I call a priest?"

"You're hilarious."

"Okay, I'm done. I promise." He chuckled. His arms squeezed you while you giggled.

Silence settled between you and you knew his thoughts were back on his oldest brother. You hugged him a little tighter.

"I guess we should probably head back," Kayce said quietly after fifteen minutes went by of holding each other. "It's been a few hours."

"Yeah, we can if you want."

"Not really. I just want to hug Tate."

You smiled softly and stood up. "Let's go find Tate."

He got up and you both started walking back. When you came over the hill and the house came into view, his hand wrapped around yours. As you walked onto the porch, his grip tightened.

"Hey." Before he could open the door, you gave his hand a gentle tug, turning him to face you. "Remember what you promised me." Tears pricked the back of your eyes.

"I remember: it's not my fault. I know you'll kick my ass if I break it." He chuckled as his eyes became watery.

"If you ever start to break it, come find me. You don't have to talk about it. We can just sit and-and stare at the sky or go for a walk. Whatever."

"I will." A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth and you gave him a small one back before you both walked inside.

There was a knock on your bedroom door so you put your bookmark in your book. Not that you had read a single line because your thoughts were on John's oldest and youngest sons. "Come in."

Kayce stood in the doorway wearing sweatpants and a T-shirt. "Hi." He said softly.

"Hi," you set your book on the bedside table and slide over.

He walked over and sat down on the edge of your bed. "I uh, I couldn't sleep and saw the light coming under the door. You...you told me this morning to come find you if..."

"We can't look at the stars but you can lie down with me."

He pulled the extra blanket that was lying on the end of the bed over him before he lay down. His arms wrapped around your waist, his head rested on your chest. The sound of your steady heartbeat quickly lulled him to sleep.

You reached down and pulled the blanket up over his shoulders. He cuddled up closer causing a small, content smile to pull at your lips. Soon you were sleeping soundly, just like the cowboy lying in your arms.

*****

Five days later you walked into the living room wearing a simple black sundress and black cardigan.

"Hi, hun." Beth gave you a small smile before she hugged you.

"Hi."

John came over, holding his cowboy hat in his hands. "Hello, Violet. How is my son doing?"

"I think once today is over it will help a bit."

"I think it will help all of us." Beth agreed as Kayce followed Tate downstairs, coming over to your little group.

You hugged Tate, who had wrapped his arms around your waist. "Hey, bud."

"Why do we all have to wear black?"

"Because that's what people do at funerals," John told his grandson. "Speaking of which, we should head out." Beth linked her dad's arm before they made their way to the front door. Tate followed along behind with Jamie, who reached over and squeezed your forearm as he walked passed.

"Hey." Your voice was quiet as you looked up at the cowboy who had spent every night in your room since Lee's death. He had fallen asleep in your arms but always slept on top of your blanket like a gentleman.

He just nodded, keeping his head down.

You closed the distance and rested your hands on the sides of his neck. "Kayce?" Your voice cracked.

His watery blue eyes finally met yours. "I don't think I can do this."

"Nobody blames you for what happened. It's not your fault."

"I know. You keep reminding me." A small smile graced his lips for a few seconds until it faded. "I just...I need to do this on my own...to say...say goodbye on my own."

"Okay."

"I'm okay." He assured when he saw concern in your eyes. "I'll be okay."

You nodded as Tate stuck his head inside. "Are you coming?"

"Yeah." Your hands left Kayce's face and slid down his arms to his hands. After holding them for a few seconds, you gave him a small smile and went outside. "Let's go."

Tate's hand slipped into yours as you headed towards the spot of the ranch were they holding the service. "What about dad?"

"He wants to say goodbye to your Uncle Lee by himself." Kayce's son just squeezed your hand and you continued.

When you walked up, John looked down the road behind you. You shook your head. "He said he needs to do this alone."

John nodded and told the preacher to start.

The setting sun cast the most amazing sunset you had ever witnessed over the mountainous horizon. You pulled your phone out of the pocket of your cardigan and took a photo. While you were putting it away, the door opened behind you.

"Can I join you?" You looked up to see Kayce standing there and you nodded so he sat down next to you. "Thank you for helping with Tate today. And, thank you for helping me this past week."

A soft smile formed as your eyes met his. "You're welcome, even though you don't have to thank me. Whatever you need I'm here."

"Sit with me for a bit." When you nodded, he slid closer before leaning over and resting his elbows on his knees. Not long after an eagle slowly drifted into view.

Memories of sitting with him by the treehouse five days ago and seeing an eagle made you think of one person. Lee. Tears pricked your eyes as you rested your head on Kayce's shoulder. His hand immediately wrapped around yours. You both sat there in silence watching the bird float above the ranch until it disappeared into the mountains, along with the setting sun.

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