#i'm gonna collect bad jokes like it's my day job | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

queers-gambit · 1 month

Text

Let the Bodies Hit the Floor

prompt: what happens when Tangerine's little lady is targeted in their home?

pairing: Tangerine x female!reader

fandom masterlist: Bullet Train

word count: 9.1k+

note: this got away from me. like wtf is this plot, Cherry?

warnings: author still runs with Tangerine's name being Aaron and Lemon's being Brian. inspired by GIF, established relationship, Russian Mafia vibes, physical violence / assault, blood, character injury, small angst, mostly hurt and comfort, Tan and Lem standing on business.

The skirt of the designer dress fanned around your thighs when you turned swiftly from the stovetop to a separate counter in order to collect the chopped vegetables. Light music filled the space between the sizzling of different dishes cooking, bare feet sticking to the linoleum floor of the kitchen.

"Right," your sweetheart, Aaron, announced as he jogged down the glass stairs while fixing his cuff link, entering the shared space, "know I hate t'do this, love, but I promise we won't be long."

You smirked, "Uh-huh, and where have I heard that before? Oh! That's right, when you - "

"Oi, oi, oi, you know I ain't mean to disappear in fuckin' Kyoto for 6 weeks, love," he repeated in exasperation, "please, stop holdin' that against me."

"I'm not," you sang in a singsong voice, dropping the vegetables to the stir fry you were preparing, "but you know, you say you won't be long, and then you disappear for random amounts of time."

"You know why," he sighed, buttoning his suit jacket as he closed the distance between you, "and you know it ain't my choice."

"Yeah, yeah, job first, girlfriend second."

"Not even close t'what my priorities are," he smirked, snatching your hand to twirl you around and tug you closer to face him. You grinned up at him, hands landing on his chest; letting his arms lock around you to keep you pressed against his impeccably sculpted body. "You look so beautiful tonight," he whispered, eyes flickering over you, "just love you in this dress. Could ravish you right here, right now."

"Yeah?" You cooed, "Recognize it?"

"Hm, feels rather expensive," he pet around your hips and waist, cheekily moving them around to grip both arse cheeks; causing you to gasp lightly, "thinkin' I must've gotten it for yah. Huh?"

"From Paris last month," you chuckled.

"Ah, yeah, I remember. Lemon was right hacked off we spent so much time shoppin', but no way was I gonna come home without something for yah." He sniffled and patted one hand in a gentle smack on your bottom, continuing, "Now, listen, sweetheart, I know tonight's real important to yah, so, I promise, Lemon and I will be back before the main course, yeah?"

You tisked, "Don't fucking call him that, you know I hate it."

"Apologies, lovely girl. Listen, I won't have my phone on, so, you need me, call Brian - "

"'If I need you'? See, now it's sounding like you're gonna disappear again, Aaron," you complained. "What the hell's this job anyway?"

"Nah, don't worry 'bout nothin'," he promised, "'cause we'll be back in time for your li'l dinner party."

"You know tonight's important for us - both of us!"

His eyes rolled, "Yes, yes, t'finally get your father's approval, right?"

"More like my whole family," you reminded with a roll of your eyes. "Goddamnit, I knew you weren't gonna take this seriously - "

"No, hey," he soothed, squeezing his hands to gently jostle you into silence, "tonight's very important to me, darlin'. I swear it, yeah? We'll be back in time, promise you."

"Good, you better."

"But in case, call Brian - "

"Aaron!"

He grinned, watching your own lips spread, "Jesus Christ, can't take a joke no more, can yah?"

"Maybe on less important days."

"Duly noted." The apartment's buzzer sounded, your boyfriend sighing, "Right, then. That'd be Lem - aht, ahem, Brian." He frowned, "Feel bad skippin' out on yah like this, but duty calls, baby."

"Mhm," you hummed, lifting on your toes to peck his lips. "Just be careful, please."

"I always am."

"You literally crashed a Bullet Train into an entire village - "

"Told yah, that was the Ladybug twat!"

"You also got shot! A centimeter to the side and you'd have bled out your fucking jugular."

"Again, the Ladybug twat."

"Potato, po-ta-toe."

Aaron chuckled, kissing you again, his mustache tickling your skin; groaning in annoyance when the buzzer sounded again - but for a prolonged time. "All right," he pulled back only to peck your lips again, "I'm off but I'll be back real soon. Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Good without me?"

"I have to be," you teased, petting the lapels of his suit jacket and readjusting his tie. "Go, before you give your brother a fucking aneurism."

"Right," he chirped, pecking your forehead with a loud smooch. Swiftly, Aaron reached over to pluck a carrot from the wok, hissing from the heat, "oh, hot, hot, hot!" You swatted his bottom as he stepped away, eating the veggie, knowing you hated when he sampled your cooking while in the midst of actually cooking. "Mh! Tastes divine, sweetheart, maybe a bit more garlic. Love you!" He called over his shoulder, dropping a quick wink.

"Love you," you repeated, smiling; feeling lucky in love. You watched him go; his curls slicked back, classic navy blue suit on to make the crisp white button-up stand out, his shiny dress shoes winking at you. With a sigh, you focused again on prepping an admirable meal for the evening, planning on hosting both your divorced parents, their partners, and three older siblings.

Obviously, as the youngest kid, any and everyone you dated fell under heavy scrutiny.

The plan was to shmooze them into accepting Aaron as your lover, something your father and eldest brother were specifically vehemently against. But you weren't a little girl anymore, they couldn't dictate who you loved, but you could do your part to make your contract killer boyfriend more appealing to your kin. Easier said than done, but tonight was about at least trying.

So, you cooked a series of dishes to present on the grand dining table your boyfriend had furnished your apartment with, yet never utilized. Humming to the music, you hopped around the cooking space, and about an hour later, the apartment's buzzer was sounding in an obnoxious echo.

Dusting your hands off, you rushed to the comms system and pressed the big green button that unlocked the door building's front door. You left the door to your flat unlocked for easier access, rushing back to the kitchen to finish plating dinner. Not a minute later, the door opened and in walked your family; bottle of wine in your father's hand and a bouquet of flowers in your mother's.

Your father, Edward, had his newest wife on his arm; in the tallest heels you ever saw and a dress made of sequins, being far too short for this kind of event.

You mother, Linda, powered walked ahead of everyone with her boytoy of the month kept a close distance to the matriarch. He was probably just a few years older than you - but you were dating a contract killer agent, there was no room for judgement.

Your eldest brother, Robert, or better known as Bobby, entered with an aurora of arrogance; instantly looking around and judging your home unfairly. You sister, Mabel, just looked stony and stoic; completely bored of that night already. Lastly, your brother older by just a single year, Jonathan, or John, or John Boy, followed behind your siblings, wearing a thick gold chain against a classless wife beater.

"Oh, I'm so glad you made it!" You squealed, opening your arms and practically skipping close to greet your parents and their partners. "About time, don't you think?" You smiled at your father, hugging him first and kissing his cheek.

"Well... Guess better late than never," he begrudgingly agreed. "You remember my wife, Crystal?"

"Of course," you tried to politely smile and offered the fake-blonde a greeting kiss to her cheek, "lovely to see you again."

"Thanks for the invite," her tired voice drawled; indicating she'd rather be literally anywhere else.

"Mum," you moved along, hugging and kissing her cheek, too. "You're look fit."

"Thank you," she sighed.

Looking to her boyfriend, you greeted, "Thanks for coming, Keith - "

"It's Toby."

You blinked, "Huh?"

"Name's Toby," he explained.

"Right, right, Toby, my fault," you apologized, ignoring the look he sent your mother as you greeted Bobby, Mabel, and John Boy.

After, your father stiffly asked, "So? Where is he? This boyfriend you want us all t'like so much, huh? Not even out here to greet us?"

"Running an errand, but he and his brother will be back for dinner."

Bobby scoffed, "So, we do all this for him and he's not even home? Wow... Real stand-up guy, innit he?"

"You're also here to see me, aren't you?"

"We see enough of you, we're here for your dumbass boyfriend you're so enamored with that you missed Christmas last year."

"Bobby," you warned, taking your mother's flowers and heading back into the open-concept kitchen to locate a vase and fill it with water. "You're gonna play nice tonight or I'm gonna be really pissed," you warned your family, "and I'll cancel the New Years trip."

"Woah, hang on," your sister, Mabel, interjected, "let's not be hasty, the night's only just beginning - no need for threats."

"I know," you smirked at her, "it's called incentive."

"Truly your father's daughter," you mother scoffed and rolled her eyes. Edward just mocked her and handed over the wine bottle; making your mother snip, "No drinks to offer us? Not a very diligent hostess, are you, darling?"

Her sickly sweet tone gave you a cavity, but this was simply how your mother behaved when around her ex-husband - all passive aggressive and holier than thou.

You pointed, "There's an entire cart behind you, there. Help yourself."

"Hm," she hummed, nodding, turning to make herself a hefty bourbon with Toby right behind her.

"Um," Crystal hummed, "do you have seltzers?"

You almost laughed but managed not to, "No, no, just win and whatever liquor's on the cart."

"It's a nice place you've got, love, if not overly expensive," Linda cut off anything Crystal might've said; complimenting you stiffly, looking around as the amber liquid was poured, "bit empty, though, innit? I don't see one single family photo, not a personable damn thing."

"Oh, well, Aaron and I just like the minimalistic aesthetic," you deflected; the truth being, Aaron was constantly on the move for his job, there was no real time or reason to decorate the flat. You began transporting the large dishes on the kitchen counters to the table, your other brother, John, springing into action to help.

To say it was awkward was the simplest way to put it. After pouring herself a second drink, Linda started to trade insults with Edward; both telling the other how pathetic it is to find younger lovers. Mabel rolled her eyes but listened carefully, ever the quiet mouse who opted to observe rather than be seen. Bobby was snooping through anything he could get a hand on; attempting to know Tangerine without outright meeting him yet. John Boy didn't care this way or that, happy to just be involved and set the table for you.

"Chow's on!" You announced, leading everyone to the table and take whatever seat they liked.

"You know," Bobby started, "think it's a bit weird."

"What is?" You asked, handing Mabel the steamed sticky rice.

Bobby gestured around, "The whole thing. I mean, I'm almost tempted to believe you've made this Aaron character up. What kinda man skips out on a family meal like this?"

"A man who has a very demanding job," you snapped, the table still passing dishes around to take their fill. "I didn't ask you guys here to fucking harp on him, I asked you to just give him a chance and get to know him."

"Why should we even bother?"

"Because he's important to me!"

"You honestly think this is gonna last?" Bobby scoffed, shaking his head and passing the vegetables.

"Of course I do, I know how strong my relationship is. What the hell do you expect me to say, do, think, or feel if Aaron and I get married, and my family's feuding with the groom - "

"I beg your pardon?" Edward snapped, making the table go silent. "You're gonna marry this bloke?"

"No, Daddy, he hasn't proposed or anything, but we have been together almost 7 years" you explained. "I just used it as an example. Aaron's going to be in my life for a long time, I'd really appreciate everyone getting along."

"I think that's reasonable," Crystal smiled.

"Oh, shove it, nobody asked you," Linda sneered.

"Could you maybe not be a raging bitch for five minutes?" Edward snapped, dropping the cutlery with a loud clatter. "Don't talk to her like that - "

"The trollop doesn't get an opinion on family affairs!"

"Now that we're married," he held up his left hand, golden band visible, "she does get an opinion. It's your newest toy that shouldn't talk!"

"I didn't even say anything, mate," Toby scoffed.

"I'm not your 'mate', silly boy - "

The table erupted in a busy and loud argument, you slumping back into your chair; listening to your siblings attempt to resolve the feud. You thanked yourself for making the conscious decision to have this little dinner party at home instead of a restaurant; knowing Linda and Edward were never able to resist a good screaming match, even if in public. You sipped your wine mutely, eyes darting back and forth between either sides of the table.

However, they were silenced when there came a pounding at your front door. Three distinct, punctuated knocks of a fist, your mind instantly jumping to thinking it was the police - nobody else knocked like that. You went rigid instantly, brow furrowing, your father asking, "Expecting more company, honey?"

"No," you shook your head, already out of your seat and heading for the door - when suddenly - it was kicked in. Your scream was shrill from shock. The force of the violent entry splintered the doorframe; knob colliding with drywall, indenting it from the jarring movement. You yelped in shock, trying to back up, but there came a flood of armed men that instantly rushed you. You were only briefly aware of chairs scraping on hardwood floor as your family leapt up in shock.

Long gone was the argument, your family mutually screaming in fear.

These intruders yelled in Russian, fanning out to gather you and your family in harsh grips; shoving everyone into the living room. You were forced to sit down, at least one armed man posted for each of you, the others spreading out and searching the flat.

"What's happening? What the hell is happening!?" Mabel squeaked through her huffy breath, the men exchanging a few words before one stepped forward with his gun drawn at the ready. "Please, there's some mistake! Please, please, why are you - what is happening!? You can't do this! We only - "

"You," one of the intruders spoke with a heavy accent and a thick, pointed finger, "quiet." From his utility belt, the Russian produced several zip ties, demanding, "Hands. Hands, together! Now! You understand, eh!? Hands! Your hands! Now! Right now!"

Another henchman barked in Russian, telling you to comply or things would get messy. "Just do what they say," you whispered, pressing your wrists together and presenting them. They were secured tightly, your parents, their partners, and siblings enduring the same, and by the time the last zip was tied, the other henchmen returned.

You identified what was reported: "He's not here, no trace where he went."

"No, hmmm," mused the man obviously in charge, "well, that's all right, his girlfriend is right here." Your eyes widened as the Russian turned to look at you with a sadistic smirk. "Heard he's real protective of you, likes you a lot. Huh? Heard he once broke a man's collarbone for just looking at you - must be very important, yeah. What do you think he will do when he finds you - ruined?"

"You're not gonna do anything," you seethed between gritted teeth, "because you know he'd kill you all. Now, there's been no harm done so far, so there's time to walk away and I'll guarantee he or his brother won't come after you."

The Russian chuckled, "Oh-ho! Hear that, boys? Good old Tangerine's domesticated now. Takes orders from his bitch, and boy, she likes to bark!" Other henchmen chuckled, a few picking at the abandoned dinner. "I think it's time we send him our message, no?" The leader grinned to his men, earning a chorus of agreement.

Your eyes widened when the man lunged forward and yanked you to your feet, yellowed teeth gnashing in your face. "Whole family can watch!" Another intruder barked, curating a wave of laughter, "Call it, uh, bonding? Trauma bonding?"

"Oh, I like that," the leader of the kill squad grinned.

You gasped when the Russian balled his fist and socked you directly in the diaphragm; winding you, bending you at the waist, and giving him the vantage point to rocket his fist upwards into your nose. There was a sickly snap, you whimpering when a different Russian shoved you from behind and forced you to your knees; three different men joining the relentless and savage beating. You were kicked, punched, breaking several bones, being spat on, shoved over, and made to bleed your own blood. Though you hadn't wanted to, wanting to appear strong and unfazed, you cried out when the pain became too much; heaving for breath and praying the next kick to the head was enough to knock you unconscious.

But you weren't so lucky and wishful thinking was simply that: wishful, not applied or actual. Your family begged and pleaded for mercy, flinching when you spat blood on numerous occasions; shoes squeaking when they stepped in the globs. Everyone helpless and powerless in the current predicament, no hero to swoop in and save the day; your family knowing they were yelling into thin air and their words fell upon deaf ears. They could only watch and listen as you took the brunt end of three angry Russian's brute strength.

The leader had lit up a cigarette, watching his men physically assault you with an air of entertainment and aloofness. This went on for several long, agonizing minutes; you eventually going limp. "Hm," he waved his hand through the smoke, inhaling nicotine, "enough, boys, that's enough. She gets it, she gets we mean business." His men complied and backed away from you, letting the leader kneel at your head on blood-smeared hardwood floor. "You tell Tangerine and Lemon who did this, huh? Yeah? You tell them for me."

You spat blood in the Russian's face, smirking in satisfaction when it hung off his nose in a humiliating display of your stubbornness.

"Ah, I see," he wiped the blood clear, regarding it on his hand before bare-knuckle punching your head back into the ground. You were instantly dazed, groaning, the man continuing, "Now that you got that out of your system, you will remember my name. Huh? Ivan, yes? You remember that? Ivan. Fucking Ivan Kostka, you tell Tangerine and Lemon Ivan Kostka did this."

"The fuck does it matter who you are!?" You whimpered, eyes burning and being kept screwed tight. "You're a deadman walking, nobody cares about your fucking name except whoever inscribes your tombstone."

"Because your fruity boyfriend and his twin took something very valuable from me," the Russian leered, "and I have come to collect it back into my possession. You tell them, Ivan did this to you. I want them to know they are not untouchable - not to me. Not to my men. Tangerine can try to protecting you all he wants, but there will always be a time and place to act." Then, he laughed, "Know how easy it was for us to get here? Huh? Bit too easy, I admit. See, we picked up Tangerine's trail and followed him here. All we had to do was be patient for our opportunity."

"Who the fuck is Tangerine?" John was heard whispering to the others, a series of shrugs replying. The Russian gave a new command and several men divided to use their weapons to wreck the flat you called home; tearing up pillows, smashing spider-web cracks to the windows, tossing plates and mugs, overturning a bookcase, throwing expensive crystal glasses to watch the shards scatter.

Ivan continued to explain, "Your stupid fucking family talk so loud, eh, it is miracle they are not in witness protection, huh? We see them at your door, and when you opened for them, oh, it was easy to, ehhh, just follow them inside. Yeah? And now, here we are," he smirked. "I am sorry about this, though. You've such a pretty face, I almost don't want t'taint it," he pet a finger down your bloodied cheek.

"Go to hell!" You hissed.

"Oh, I will be when the Reaper comes for me. Remember, tell Tangerine it was Ivan... Ivan Kostka did this," he gestured to your tattered form, "and that I want my Faberge Egg and little sister back or this will get a lot worse for everyone involved."

You coughed as the man stood, whistling sharply and commanding his men to follow. The moment they were gone, as your family erupted in panicked screams, Mabel raced for the kitchen and snatched up a knife from the counter. Returning, your sister carefully uncut everyone's ties, your mother gasping and dropping to her knees when freed.

"What have you gotten us into, you stupid girl!?" She cried, massaging her constricted wrists.

You manage to mumble before passing out, "Call Brian."

Tangerine and Lemon had been on their own stakeout, tracking a gang of Russians accused of money laundering. He had forgotten to put his phone on the charger the night before, it dying and being left behind at his flat; so when there came a vibration, he knew it was Lemon's phone.

He hate the sound of the vibrations in the cupholder. "Oi, gonna fuckin' answer that?" Tangerine snapped, staring out the windshield.

"Uh, bruv?" Lemon turned the phone for Tan to see, guessing, "It's for you, I'm sure." The contact name displayed your home number.

Tangerine sighed and accepted the call with it on speaker, "Yeah, hello? Love? That you?"

"A-Aaron?"

"Linda?" Tan questioned in curiosity, hearing your mother's soft sob. "What's goin' on? What's wrong? Why're you calling? Where's Y/N?"

"Th-There's been an accident."

"What kind of accident?"

"The kind that involve angry Russians looking for some egg and someone's little sister? I don't know - "

"Oh, fuck me! Don't move, we're on our way," he rushed, hanging up. "Oi, fuck this, mate, get us back home," he barked at his brother, "we gotta get back now. Like right fucking now!"

"We can't just - "

"What? Leave our post?" Tan snapped. "Brian, you know where we are right now?"

He glanced outside, "Uh... Little Italy?"

"Fuckin' wanker," Aaron snapped. "No, this shipping yard is owned by the Kostka's - Russian crime family. You heard Linda, means the tip tonight was a set up t'get us away from the flat. They probably moved while we were absent. Now, c'mon, fucking hustle!"

Lemon connected the dots and started the engine, peeling away at a dangerous speed to navigate the city back to the high-rise apartment you and Tan shared. He couldn't explain why, but Tangerine could feel his heart in his throat; a sick feeling taking over at the thought of the Russians setting this entire thing up.

Why send he and Lemon to stakeout the shipping yard? Why remove them from the equation?

Upon arriving at the shattered front door, both men in pressed clothes came to a jarring halt, taking in the sight. The flat was a wreck, literal feathers from pillows still floating in the air, their dress shoes cracking over shattered glass.

Tan caught sight of your hunched body sitting on the couch. "Right, the fuck is this, then?" He demanded, striding up to where your family had surrounded you. "The hell happened? Swear t'God, I'll put a bullet... In... Whoever..." He trailed, pausing when he saw your state. Tangerine slowly squatted in front of you, gently trying to coax your chin up, "Lemme see, darlin', c'mon, c'mon, lemme see, c'mere."

When you met his baby blues, you could only watch as tears filled them - knowing they'd never fall. "I'm sorry," you whispered, throat soar from the beating; making you sound a lot hoarser than ever before.

"For what? You did nothing, love, nothing - couldn't have deserved this, now could yah?" He rushed to comfort, caressing your jaw in both hands to look you over. There was a long gash in your hairline that dripped racing drops of blood down your face. "This is my fault, I know it is, God fucking damn it. Who the fuck did this? Hey? You remember, darling? Remember anythin' 'bout these men?" But you were silent from shock. So, he addressed the room by barking, "Does anyone? What the hell happened here, tonight!?"

Your father cleared his throat before knocking back the last swig of his whiskey. "These Russian fuckers," Ed answered. "Big lot of 'em, too, all with scary lookin' tattoos and fucking guns. Some were automatic." He eyed your boyfriend, "Associates of yours?"

"Fucking hell," Tangerine looked up at his brother, "think they want the Faberge back?"

Lemon frowned, "Possibly, but that's only if - "

"Ivan," you whispered suddenly, Tangerine and Lemon both looking back at you in mild shock. "He said his name was Ivan and he wanted you two t'know there was no hiding from him. He wants back whatever it is you two took."

"Yeah, they want the fucking Egg," Tangerine's jaw flexed as he glared at the floor, sighing deeply, and then looking back at you. "Hey," he whispered, "I'm just glad you're alive and well-enough. Yeah? You're my priority, sweetheart, nothing else matters."

You sniffled, "I'm okay."

"Like hell you are," he shook his head, gently prodding around your bruised face and sighing, "look at yah. You're definitely not okay, sweetheart. Right, then, listen, we'll go to a safe house for the time being - "

"A what?" John asked incredulously.

"A safe house," Lemon repeated, "you know? Somewhere not on record to let us hide discreetly?"

"I know what it is - but why go?"

"Can't stay here, mate, it's compromised," Tan answered with a hardened tone. "Now, you gonna fuckin' stand there, questioning me, or go be useful and get ready to leave?"

"Tan," his brother offered softly, "lay off, they just watched our girl get the shit kicked outta her."

Tan nodded and looked back at you, "Yeah, all right, sorry, love, just a bit on edge. But I'm gonna fix this - "

Robert (or Bobby, he's also known as), scoffed a sarcastic laugh, arms crossed, approaching you and Tangerine. "You takin' the piss? Your fuckin' job is leadin' men t'my sister, breakin' in her own home, givin' her a beatin' meant for you, yah fuckin' twat! Yet that's all you got to say to us? That you're on edge?"

"What'chu want, then, bruv?" Tan snapped, standing to face Bobby. "Huh? Call it an occupational hazard, but just 'cause you wanna bring it up, know that we ain't never had no situation like this before. All right? Excuse us for tryna piece it best together."

"My fuckin' sister's still bleedin', and you're, what? Makin' it up as you go?" Bobby snarled. "You owe us a plan! Somethin'! Fuckin' anythin'! How the fuck are you gonna rectify this situation?"

Tan's mouth opened, ready to retort.

"All right, all right, hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, no, no, quit it, cut it out, yah fucking ninnies!" Lemon stepped between them and forced distance between the two men. "That shit ain't gonna help us right now. We all need to think clearly, so let's try not to wind one another up. Yeah? Fair?"

"Fuck you," Bobby spat, "fuck the both of yahs, you're both responsible! Puttin' my sister in harms way! Fuckin' look at her!" He snarled and pointed, "Shakin' like a fuckin' leaf!"

"Yeah, all right, you what, mate?" Tan sneered.

"I'm not your mate."

"I'll just fuckin' handle this on my own - "

"Like hell you are," His brother interrupted. "They fucked with our family, ain't nowhere for them to hide."

Tangerine nodded, then asked, "How many men were here would you say? Ballpark number." It was quiet. "Someone better answer me!"

Linda sneered, "Some 12 or 15 men, most of whom carried assault rifles. Anything you wanna tell us, Aaron? Huh? Why were these men searching for you? What'd you do that was so bad, they hurt my little girl?"

Your boyfriend nodded and looked to his brother, stiffly nodding and stoically demanding, "Let's get fuckin' Biblical, then, yeah?"

Brian clicked his tongue and winked at his brother in agreement, Crystal handing you a bag of frozen peas to hold against your head.

"You're sure it's safe?" You whispered, holding onto your boyfriend like a crutch as you exited the elevator.

"They didn't want our protection, love, 'cause the Russians are after us," Tan answered. "Easy does it," he whispered, opening the door to the safe 'house' he and Lemon kept in downtown London - not terribly far from your actual flat. "At's a good girl, slowly - slowly," he kept one arm around you, the other holding the door for Lemon, who carried several duffels. "Right, see? Nice, ain't it?"

You nodded, still relatively drugged from the hospital you just left. After begging them to come with you, your family outright refused, saying Tangerine and Lemon were bad news and they wanted no part in whatever bullshit was happening; even though it meant leaving you alone. So, Lemon packed up the flat while Tan took you to the hospital, meeting again at the skyscraper that doubled as a fortress.

"Here we are," he sighed, lowering you to the couch; left wrist in a cast, a brace on your ankle, concussion, bandages and gauze stuck to random open wounds that required stitches. "Right," he knelt in front of you, "you saw the lobby, yeah? Ain't nobody gettin' in here without clearance, you're safe. Yeah?" He pushed a strand of hair from your face, hating how it was still crisp from dried blood.

"Okay," you whispered with a nod.

Aaron sighed, "I'm so sorry, love."

"Not your fault."

"But it is," he frowned, "'s all my fuckin' fault."

"Did you really take a Faberge Egg?"

"It's what our employer wanted, so... Yeah. Apparently, it was a right dime piece, thought lost in one of the wars. Very exclusive - "

"Most expensive Egg made," Brian added, dropping a couple of the duffels. "And it's not in our possession anymore, love."

"Fuck would we do with Faberge?" Aaron rolled his eyes.

"Hock it," his brother answered, bringing grocery bags into the kitchen and setting them on the counters.

"And the sister?" You asked, eye once being nearly swollen shut now just red and irritated; looking at him with profound sadness. "What happened to Ivan's sister?"

Aaron sighed, wiping a hand down his face, "She was placed in witness protection, she's an informant f'MI6 and Interpol. They want her 'cause she's been spillin' secrets, gettin' business all topsy-turvy."

"They wanna kill her?"

"Seems so," he nodded, smoothing his hands over both your thighs, "but don't you worry 'bout nothin', yeah? We'll handle this."

"How?"

"We've got a couple calls to make," he alluded, standing to his full height but bending at the waist to kiss your forehead gently. "Try to rest, love, we'll be here a bit."

You nodded and watched him stride out of the living room, grabbing one of the duffel bags Lemon had dropped and brought it to the glass dining room table. He ripped it open as you sunk into the plush fabric of the pillows, but perked up when Brian came into sight. "Here, darling," he set a mug of tea to the granite coffee table in front of you, "just a bit of something for your nerves, yeah? You all right? Need anything? A pain pill, maybe? You look uneasy."

"I'm all right," you promised, trying to smile, but it came out as a grimace.

"Mhm," he sent you a look, grabbing the pharmacy bag. "Don't be a hero, just keep yourself afloat. Here," he handed you a little, round, white pill and the tea. "Bottoms up, huh?"

You half-chuckled and did what he said, settling again as he grabbed a blanket and tossed it over you. "How often are you two here?" You asked.

"Ah, usually when we're doin' recon," he answered, handing over the remote. "All the streamin' you could want," he winked, pointing at the TV.

"Oi, mate," your boyfriend called, "thinkin' we should call Kiwi?"

"To stay with her?" He asked, caressing the top of your head affectionately; grabbing another duffel and meet his brother at the table. The London Eye was visible from the window, creating a picturesque scene.

"Yeah," Tan answered, "she's good company, ain't she? Handy with a gun. Usually shoots first, asks questions later."

Brian shrugged, "Couldn't hurt. But I think we need t'call Moss... See what he and The Agency can tell us 'bout Ivan."

"On it," Aaron agreed, rapidly typing on a nondescript laptop. But he paused suddenly, looking up and asking, "You gave her a pain pill?"

"Yeah."

"She should eat with it..."

"I'm right here, you know!" You snapped. "I can hear you!"

"I know, doll, sorry," Aaron sighed, going to the kitchen and grabbing you trail mix - knowing opioids gave you the munchies. "Here, love, just wanna make sure you stay all right," he handed the bag over, dropping to the spot beside you with a heavy sigh. "Listen, uh, we're gonna have some of the lads come over t'help."

"Who?"

"Well, Kiwi's a lass, but she works with us sometimes. She's handy t'have 'round inna pinch. That all right?"

"I'm not one for much company right now," you frowned.

"Nah, don't worry, she'll entertain herself," he chuckled slightly, eyes darting around to take in your appearance. In a low whisper, he breathed, "I'm so sorry this happened."

"You've said that," you half-smiled, placing an M&M at his lips. He accepted the treat. "We knew something was bound to happen eventually, right?"

"Not like this, this ain't acceptable," he shook his head. "Lookit, Ivan's one of them nasty fuckers, traffics narcotics into the country using a series of shipping yards. He's got a whole army at his fingertips, plenty of money t'sustain an all out war if he wants."

"When was the last time you dealt with this guy?"

Lemon joined you two, sitting on the other side of the L-shaped couch. He worked on the laptop now, but sent a look to Aaron that begged him to lie. But often, Tangerine never could to you, so, he told the truth, "Last we saw him was some 6 years ago."

Your head cocked, "That's when we first started dating."

"Yeah," he smirked, stretching his arm around you to bring you in close for both your comforts. "Remember that week you couldn't get ahold of me? I told yah I was on some bloody fishing trip?"

"Mhm."

"We were in Colombia, fuckin' up part of his operation."

Your eyes widened, "Colombia? You mean, this Russian's in league with South America? The cocaine capital of the world?"

"Yeah," he sighed, "but it's taken him apparently this long to get shit straightened out - else he would've come sooner."

"Or he was waitin' until our guard was down," Brian chimed in, rapidly tapping on the laptop. "Intel says... Ivan's been in the country 'bout 3 months."

"And before that?"

"Uh... Looks like... Ah, fuckin' hell, he was in Spain, Portugal, Nicaragua, even fuckin' Trinidad."

"Sounds like he's made some friends," Tangerine frowned. You nestled a little closer, his arm contracting to squeeze you tight. "Send word t'Kiwi and Moss, ask Moss t'bring only The Jailbird."

"Who the fuck - you know what? I don't want t'know," you whispered.

"The Jailbird is a brutal fucker," Lemon chuckled, typing faster, "took out an entire fright train by himself with a single shotgun and only a couple rounds of ammo."

"Brian," Tan warned, shaking his head.

"What? 'S not like she's gonna say shit, you picked the most loyal girl in the world," he grinned, winking at you. "Right, love?"

"Mhm."

"That pain pill kicking in yet?"

"Not yet," you yawned.

"Right," your lover chuckled, handing over the mug of tea, "we've got some work t'do, you sit tight. Need somethin', anythin', just ask. Please," he frowned, "don't try t'get up."

"All right," you whispered, lifting your chin slightly with intent. He smiled and met you the rest of the way, pressing a gentle kiss to your split lips.

The lads went back to the glass table, setting up a network of tools and technology, muttering to one another as they did what they knew to gather as much information as possible.

About an hour later, there was a knock at the door that made you flinch. "It's all right," Tangerine rushed, but pulled his gun in hand, "probably Kiwi - "

"It's me, fuckers!" A female called from the other side.

Your boyfriend checked through the peephole and sighed, holstering his gun and opening the door. "Kiwi," he greeted.

"Tangerine," she rolled her eyes, strolling into the flat with her arms full of food. "I brought lunch! Know you fuckers aren't payin' attention to time and shit. Oh!" She grinned when she saw you, "Oh, my word, you're her! Wow, you're even prettier in person! You know, Aaron's told me all about you - "

"Fuck off," Tan snapped.

"Fuck you," she sent right back, "been askin' t'meet your lady for years now, now I finally get to."

"I wish it were under better circumstances," you offered softly, watching the lass with stark white hair round into the living room to set coffee cups and paper bags down.

"Oh, hi, hello, you gorgeous girl," she grinned, sitting next to you and hugging you softly. You were shocked, eyes wide, but hugged her back. "Oh, it's real nice to meet yah, heard all about'cha!"

"Really?" You asked when she pulled back, "'Cause I didn't know a thing about you until an hour ago."

"Makes sense," her eyes rolled, "them two never talk 'bout shit. Makes 'em good agents, but shit lovers. Huh?"

"I'd have to disagree," you smiled softly, defending your love.

"Yeah," she grinned, "knew I'd like you. Lemon!" She greeted in a cheer, standing swiftly to set one coffee cup out for you and take the rest over to the table.

"Hi, Key," he chuckled, offering her a hug. "Lookin' fit, aren't yah?"

"Just got back from a 6 month stint in the DR," she nodded.

"R&R or mandatory?"

"Rehab," she shrugged casually, "but not for me."

"Makes no bloody sense," Tan rolled his eyes.

"I was there, cozyin' up t'fucking Francisco Juarez."

"No fuckin' shit," Lemon laughed. "How was that?"

"The man's mental, but shit, he's got some balls of steel."

"Jesus Christ," Tan groaned. "Can we focus, please? Where's Moss? Anyone heard from him?"

"Mh," Kiwi nodded, swallowing a mouthful of coffee as you gingerly reached for your own; trying not to strain the shattered ribs you earned. "He called me on my way here, said he was on his way, just had to pick something up."

Lemon and Tangerine shared a look as Kiwi practically skipped back over to you. She happily struck up a conversation, telling you all about how she first met Aaron and Brian on some recon mission in Moscow - the three apparently all tracking Ivan. So, no wonder she was asked to assist on this little mission.

The man named Moss arrived not long after, dropping another duffel in the foyer and silently approaching Tangerine and Lemon. Kiwi waved the behavior off, whispering, "That's one of the bosses. Not a man of many words, just a man of action, yeah?"

You nodded in understanding, accepting the Tylenol she handed you and answering her 20,000 questions. You heard the three men muttering together, papers shuffling over the tabletop and the laptop dinging every time there was new information.

"Oh, holy shit," Lemon gaped at the screen, earning everyone's attention. "You lot aren't gonna believe this."

"What's wrong?" Moss asked, moving to his shoulder and peering over to look at the laptop. "Well... Ain't that interesting?"

"What?" Kiwi asked.

"Looks like Ivan's here for some wedding..." Lemon muttered, tapping on the return key repeatedly. "No shit!"

"WHAT!?" Kiwi snapped, making you flinch. She instantly apologized, "Oh, shit, sorry, sorry, sorry, love, I get a bit excited when outta the loop."

"Ivan's sister's gettin' married," Moss reported, "to the Minister of Defense."

It was quiet for a long moment, the agents stewing in shock. "Well, that can't be good," you whispered to Kiwi.

"Not entirely, just means our jobs got a helluva lot more exciting, though," she grinned, dropping a wink.

Three days. Three bloody days, you've been confined to the safe house. You were under strict orders not to leave out of fear of retaliation, so you remained for Aaron's peace of mind.

Moss, Tangerine, Lemon, and Kiwi were preoccupied focusing on their plan of attack. They figured there be an altercation at the engagement party, designing a trustworthy team to help them infiltrate and keep an eye. The day of the party, you were curled up in bed, reading to pass the time, and when you noticed Tangerine leaning in the doorway, your book snapped shut.

"How long you gonna keep me here?" You asked. "Some of us have day jobs they need to get back to."

He smirked, "I covered for yah."

"How?"

"Said you had a funeral t'go to in the States," he eased, pushing off the doorframe and approaching your side of the bed. He grunted as he sat, sighing deeply, "Listen, sweetheart..."

"Oh, that's never good."

"Just listen," he smirked. "Tonight's the engagement party, so we're gonna make our move."

"Are you sure Ivan's gonna be there? That this is what needs done?"

"We got it worked out, love," he promised. "Just need yah t'stay here with Kiwi. Keep safe, yeah?"

You stared at him for a moment, cocking your head slightly, "Been meaning to ask - why refer to each other's codenames when alone, like we are?"

"Good habit t'have," Aaron shrugged, caressing your head and then petting a finger down your cheek softly. "Hate leavin' you like this, but I'm gonna kill the fuckers that dared touch you."

"I'm not usually one for violence or revenge, but in this case, go crazy."

He nodded and stood with a smirk, stooping slightly to press his lips against yours. There was a solemn tension in the air, foreheads pressed together to breathe the same air, him whispering, "Love you, darlin'."

"Love you, too," you answered instantly. "Just make sure you come home, yeah?"

"As quick as I can," he swore.

You learned that day, you hated waiting. You despised being out of the know, having no connection to tell you what was happening on Aaron's side of things. Kiwi was a great distraction, though. She was chipper, talkative, wildly animated; sharing a joint with you, ordering take out that a security guard brought up, and making you watch all her favorite movies.

She checked her phone several times, eventually, you begging, "Any word?"

"Nah, don't worry," Kiwi smiled, "they usually don't give updates when on the job."

Unknown to you, on the other side of town, Tangerine and Lemon were changing into suits the hotel waiters would wear to serve the engagement party. Moss was in a nondescript white van, working surveillance, informing in the headset, "The Jailbird's in position."

"So are we," Lemon reported, nodding at his brother. "Ready, bruv?"

"It's gonna get messy," he nodded, cracking his neck and leading the charge into the event room with trays of champagne. He surveyed the room subtly, seeing The Jailbird working the catering table in a matching suit, and when the couple of the hour entered, it was showtime. However, before springing into action, the trio of trained and paid assassins had to wait for the first move else they'd blow their cover and alert Ivan they were onto him.

The future bride's name was once something traditionally Russian, now choosing to be Veronica, and her soon-to-be-husband, Gerald, was the very man who had established her witness protection. It was romantic, in a way, that the two fell in love; being naughty and a little forbidden, yet still tantalizing. Their families filled the room with the groom's colleagues, security lining the walls - yet being unable to do anything if the Russians decided to attack.

However, the moment Tangerine saw Ivan, he went rigid with anger. "Mate, hang on, don't do it - we have a plan for a reason," Lemon tried to warn, but sighed hotly when his brother stormed off. Into the comms system, he warned, "Heads up, lads, Tangerine's on the move. 'S bouta get real sticky, people, stay sharp."

Tangerine surged up behind Ivan, who was dressed similarly and indicating he, too, was undercover at this event. Tan felt his face redden with anger, tapping Ivan's shoulder, and when the Russian turned, he didn't hesitate to pull his fist back and launch it directly into Ivan's nose. It was the first punch thrown (literally) that spurred the other Russians into action.

People shrieked, heels clattered to flee, and security guards rushed to cover their employers; not knowing who the desired target was. Luck didn't seem on their side that evening as security managed to get Gerald out of the hall, but his fiancé, Ivan's sister, was separated in the stampeding crowd; gunshots making patrons scream in concern.

In their comms, Moss barked, "Veronica! Someone cover Veronica! She's the informant - get to Veronica!"

The Jailbird flipped the catering table to reveal several heavy-duty guns strapped for this very moment. He and Lemon made their selections, Tan preferring his fist; someway, somehow, missing getting shot by Ivan's men. But the Russian gangster was just as angry, fending off Tangerine and even getting a few punches in himself. All for nought, though, because Tangerine had the power of his anger propelling him; your face conjured in his mind, bloodied, making him hit harder - and harder - and harder.

"You! Dirty! Fuckin'! Scum!" Tan punctuated each word with a blow of his fist, keeping Ivan in his grip like a vice. "C'mere! You've done it now, haven't yah, you fuckin' bastard? Fucked up by touchin' my woman! I'll fuckin' gut you!"

Ivan's elbow cracked Tan's nose, making him stumble back a few steps. The Russian grinned, blood outlining his teeth, "She was real pretty, wasn't she, eh? I tried to leave her face for yah! Didn't wanna fuck that up too bad!"

"C'mere!" Tangerine roared, knuckles bloody. However, as he was winding up for another hit, one of Ivan's men tackled Tan from the side and knocked him into a banquet table - collapsing it.

The Russians were in an abundance, yet stood no chance when Tangerine got ahold of a handgun. The Jailbird preferred the larger shotgun, blowing gargantuan holes in people's chests; Lemon keeping it simple and just doing his job by taking out the enemy. It was Tan who was absolutely feral, sprayed in the blood of his enemies and sparing no life he came across; the party's occupants screaming in terror and trying to flee the event hall between gunshots.

"Tan!" The Jailbird barked, pointing off at someone, and when he looked, Tan locked onto Ivan again. The Jailbird located Veronica, trying to save her, but being unsuccessful when a Russian got to her first - disappearing from his line of sight as the chaos rampaged.

Growling, Tangerine started firing single shots to the heads of anyone in his way of his main target, but this time, the Russian saw him coming and was plenty prepared. The blade Ivan used cut Tan deep, filleting flesh; but did not stop the man wanting to avenge his love.

Bodies hit the floor left and right as Tangerine's anger swelled, there not being a single force in the world that could stop him now. Whatever Tan could get his hands on turned into a weapon, finding every single Russian responsible for what happened to you - the love and light of his life.

The engagement party was decorated with white table cloths and white roses, now stained and splattered in blood the longer the fight went. The musicians of the live band had fled, security encountering the Russian that had Veronica and shooting him dead, food covering the walls. Moss had tapped into the security cameras, informing his men when more Russians were racing towards the room; grunting when he threw off his headset, grabbed a gun, and left the van to take out anyone trying to get inside.

Lemon did his best to cover Tangerine's six, but the Russians kept coming in waves; far more prepared than they were that evening. Yet it didn't matter, their numbers might've been high but the anger Tangerine and Lemon felt was a gift from God Himself, spurring them to work harder and smarter.

Once inside, Moss brought The Jailbird to higher ground and strategically shot down their enemies while Lemon and Tangerine operated on the ground. When face-to-face with Ivan, Tan seethed, "You waited 6 years for a shot at me, would've thought you'd try harder."

"Don't need to," Ivan laughed, "I already got you!"

"Didn't get shit - "

"That why your girl's all alone? Don't worry, lad, I sent some boys to go deal with her. C'mon, then!" Ivan taunted, waving Tan in an antagonizing motion, weilding the 6-inch blade. As the two exchanged blows, Ivan laughed, "Never told me! Did you like my li'l gift? How I left your girl?"

Tangerine grit his teeth and used a chair to bash the Russian over his head. "I'll fucking gut you for touching her!" He shouted, people still squealing and screaming in fright.

"You stole my inheritance! That Faberge Egg's been in my family for generations!" Ivan roared, "And my fucking sister! If not for you," he grunted, taking a hacking swipe and missing, "she never would've opened her mouth!"

"Your sister, mate, fuckin' hates your guts!" Tan barked, kicking Ivan back and sending him crashing through a table. "She would've spoke even if we hadn't picked her up!"

"Bullshit!" Ivan snarled, swinging and his blade catching Tan's bicep, slicing shirt and flesh. "My sister knew loyalty! Until you rotten fucks showed up, kidnapping her, confusing her! Fucking brainwashing her!"

"She's the one who hired us, mate!"

"Liar!"

Tangerine earned the upper hand by flipping Ivan onto his back, dropping to his knees, and wailing his fist into the Russian's face. He kept hitting him, even when Ivan stopped moving; flesh tearing, meat flying, bones breaking, and blood spurting in every which direction.

Blood painted his face, droplets racing down to create streaks.

At the safe house, Kiwi was making tea when there came a series of distant banging from outside the flat's door. She met your worried eyes and pulled out a gun, holding a finger to her lips to indicate you to stay quiet. She checked the in-house security system, spying a few Russian Mafia members fighting through the security guards and getting closer.

"Right," she rushed, helping you off the couch, "you gotta hide and stay quiet, love, I'll handle this quickly."

"Handle what? What's going on?"

"They're here."

"A-Are we safe?"

"For now."

"Are the lads!?"

"We'll find out!" Kiwi stuffed you inside one of the closets, assuring, "No worries, I'll handle them, you just stay here. Aaron would kill me if he knew something happened to you on my watch."

You didn't even have time to register that she used his real name; finding no choice in the matter as she shut the doors, and through the slats, watched her brandish a gun. You flinched when you made out the sounds of a struggle and then several gunshots, not knowing who fired them, who was being shot at, or what was happening.

Tears of fear filled your eyes, holding your breath and just waiting with trembling appendages. You hated waiting. You hated not knowing. You hated the tension, the fear, the cultivation of stress.

When the doors ripped open, you gasped shrilly and stepped back into the wall, but calmed when you realized it was only Aaron. And then you realized - it was Aaron!

"Baby," you gasped, leaping into his embrace out of sheer relief; arms wrapping around his neck and being dampened with blood. "Oh, my God, oh, my God, you're okay - you're okay, you're really okay."

"Yeah, 's all right, love," he rushed, one arm holding your waist, the other petting the back of your head. "I'm all right, 's all right, I'm here. I've got yah, love, I'm here now. They're all dead, they're all dead, my love, we got 'em all, you're safe, it's all right. Nobody will touch you again - never again, sweetheart."

"Are you okay? Are you hurt?" You sniffled, pulling back to take both his cheeks in hand and frowning, "Is this blood!?"

"Yeah," he whispered, gently taking your wrists to pull your hands down. "But it's all right, 's not mine. I'm not hurt." He didn't let you answer, rushing, "Are you all right? Hey? Not hurt?"

"No, no, Kiwi - she protected me," you nodded, sniffling. "Where is she? Is she all right!?" You suddenly panicked, but Tangerine shushed you gently.

"She's fine, love, she's safe. Not a single scratch on her. Had most of the Russians down and out by the time we got back."

"And Brian?"

"Lemon's fine," he promised softly, "just cleanin' up in the other bathroom. Which," he smirked gently, "we should probably do the same. C'mon."

You agreed, hating the sight of blood on your man. When in the shower together, you got a look of the cuts and bruises he earned that night; knowing that despite him being the reason you were attacked, he was also the man who would protect you from anything and anyone. No matter the cost.

There was nowhere you were safer.

Watching you wash his wounds in spite of your own, Tangerine realized he didn't need to ask your father for permission - he was gonna marry you. Come hell or high water, there wasn't anything or anyone - be it Edward or Ivan - that could keep him from loving you the rest of his life.

requesting rules and masterlist

Bullet Train masterlist

327 notes · View notes

starry-eyes-love · 9 days

Text

Never Letting You Go

Masterlist

Pairing | Agent Javier Pena x Agent F!Reader

Summary | What starts out as a shitty Valentine’s Day turns into everything that you’ve ever wanted. Javi treats you the way you need, by never letting you go.

A/N: First time writing for Javier's character, forgot this was in the vault. Enjoy

(As a reminder I'm no longer doing tag lists, make sure to turn on notifications on my page for when I post).

Warnings | 18+, Minors DNI, Smut

Language, angst, mentions of prostitution and Agent work, mentions of the cartel, mentions of cheating (from your previous relationship), grinding, mentions of penetrative sex, soft fluffy moments.

Word Count: 5.5K

“Fuck baby,” he said, grinding against your ass with a little bit more force. “Do you feel that? See, that’s what you fucking do to me woman.” Javi was now rocking harder into you, giving you slow deep thrusts. You could feel his hard outline in his pants as he was seated firmly against you. “This is what you’ve always done to me. I don’t hate you, fuck baby, I like you. I want you. So if you’ll shut up long enough, then maybe you’ll hear me say it.”

Today was Valentine's Day, and usually this was something that didn’t concern Javier Peña. He was a DEA agent that was in the middle of trying to bring down drug dealers and drug lords, he didn’t have time to be concerned about feelings or emotions on a specific day on the calendar. But yet here he was, in the files room pacing back and forth, trying to calm his nerves. Javier was never nervous when it came to the opposite sex. He usually was always so calm, cool, and collected when handling them. Well, except for today that is, and especially when dealing with you. Somehow you had gotten under his skin just enough that now he was pacing back and forth, mind racing of what to do if you didn't like the gift that he just left you on your desk. He was so lost in his own head that he didn’t hear the door open and Steve Murphy step in.

“Javi, what the hell are you-” Steve said, stopping dead in his tracks when he saw Javi pacing back and forth, running his hand down his face.

“She ain’t gonna like the gift. Why did you say it was from you and not a secret admirer? Jesus. Soy un idiota (I’m such an idiot).” Javi mumbled to himself.

“You got a lady a Valentine’s gift there Peña?” Murphy said, slamming the files on the desk and causing Javi to jump. Javi just stood there, not answering his friend and fellow DEA agent’s question. Steve, seeing how nervous Javi was, continued to tease him slightly. “Who’s the lucky girl, Peña?”

Before he could answer, they both heard you marching down the hall, yelling, “Peña, I’m gonna fuckin’ kill you, you arrogant bastard.”

About a year ago you were transferred to Columbia in an attempt to assist in the capture of Pablo Escobar. At first, you were excited about serving your country and bringing the bad guys to justice. That was before meeting your two male DEA partner’s, however. The first time you met Steve Murphy and Javier Peña it was love at first insult. You were the head female DEA agent hired to work alongside them in helping bring down the Medellín Cartel, and subsequently Pablo Escobar. However, your transfer to Columbia somehow pissed both of them off.

Since you had arrived, all those two idiots did was piss you off one way or another. They were the biggest source of your headaches and irritations to date, and one of the biggest reasons why you hated your current job. They wouldn’t listen to you, and they continuously left you out of the loop on information. To make matters worse, when they got bored you were the target of their practical jokes, like today.

Today was Valentine’s Day, and one day on the calendar that you wished you could just completely remove. You hated Valentine’s Day with a passion, ever since you found your ex-fiance balls deep in your sister on Valentine’s Day one year ago. It was after that you found out that the man who you thought loved you had always cheated on you with your sister, from Moment. Fucking. One. You were together five years with him, and apparently all those five years he was also fucking your sister every chance he got. You were happy to hear that her husband caught them in bed and had filed for a divorce. You thought it was poetic how she lost a man who made a shit ton of money for an asshole who could hardly pay rent for his shitty apartment. So when you took the job transfer to Columbia you felt okay with the situation that had happened, as shitty as it sounded.

But then last night your sister called you and informed you that she was getting married, and that she was pregnant too. She advised you that it would be best if you didn’t attend the wedding because of hard feelings the two of you had. When you asked who the soon-to-be husband and dad was, she had informed you that it was your ex-fiance and that they both were happy they found someone that loved them deeply. As soon as you heard that, you told her to ‘go to fucking hell,’ and then slammed the phone down. Out of anger and rage you grabbed the bottle of alcohol that was on the counter, and downed most of it in one go. Yeah, you weren’t going to that fucking wedding.

When you woke up and realized it was Valentine’s Day, you seriously contemplated calling in work sick. But you remembered that you had a morning meeting with your bosses and you knew that Javi and Steve wouldn’t show up. So you begrudgingly got up and showered, swearing underneath your breath of how life wasn’t fair. You hated today, Valentine’s Day, with a passion. Six years ago you met your ex on Valentine’s Day because he was stood up on a date, a date with your sister you found out much later. Then last year, on Valentine’s Day, you caught him cheating with your sister. How did life get so fucked up?

To add to your already sour mood, when you got into work early you noticed that all the rest of the females in the office had big bouquet of flowers on their desks from Javi and Steve. Each of them had a note saying that they really appreciated all the hard work that they have done, and that they were special angels for helping them out. When you got to your desk you didn’t see any flowers or note telling you that you were special. The only note that you saw was from Steve saying “don’t fuck up this meeting” and asked if you took your “anti-bitch pill today yet.” Yeah you hated this fucking day.

The meeting that was only supposed to be an hour went on for three long hours, and you were berated for two out of the three hours in the meeting. You had to once again mop up the mess that both Steve and Javi had created, promising to get results instead of excuses. Recently, all the leads that your department was getting in capturing Escobar were cold, no one had seen him or heard of him in almost a month. Even when you went in and shook the crime tree, nothing fell out of place which made everyone uneasy, especially your superiors.

Finally when the meeting was over with you were able to return to your desk to try to let your heart and blood pressure return to normal. When you approached your desk, you saw a little basket there with a pretty red ribbon with sparkles in it. You looked around quickly to see if anyone noticed or was standing there, you also glanced quickly under your desk to make sure Steve or Javi wasn’t sitting there waiting for you to relax so they could scare you. When you noticed nothing was out of the ordinary you felt your heart flutter in your chest, especially when the tag read “to the most special DEA female agent” in Javier’s handwriting.

At first your heart fluttered, thinking that finally someone, Javi, took the time to give a shit. If you were being honest with yourself, you did like Javier Peña. He was very sexy and attractive. When he wasn’t being an asshole, he was truly sensitive and understood the female sex with their emotions. You thought that he didn’t care anymore about you, but the longer you looked at the name tag on your gift, the more you thought that maybe you were wrong at your assessment. Your heart raced and you felt the heat creep up your neck at the thought that maybe Javi did see you as something more than just an individual who worked with him each day. But when you opened the basket and saw the gift that was laying there for you, your wonder turned into embarrassment as your face fell. Then when you read the note inside you saw red with anger. That bastard took it one step too far this time.

Once Javi heard your voice he suddenly froze, slowly listening to where you were coming from. When he realized that you were getting closer, he glanced over at Murphy with wide, scared eyes. He mouthed “shh, shut the fuck up,” when Steve went to open his mouth to ask Javi something.

As Steve stood there he was trying to understand what the hell his partner had done to anger you so much. He mouthed to Javi ‘what the fuck did you do man?’ Javi just shook his head and placed his finger to his lips to silence Steve’s further questioning. He wasn’t trying to be a coward, but with how angry you were right now, he didn’t want to come face to face with you. Yes, Javi had a knack for pissing you off so much that you’d threaten to kill him. But from how angry you sounded, he figured that if he was standing in front of you right now, that you would in fact shoot him dead.

Javi and Steve continued to stand in silence together for a few minutes. Javi was hoping that you would just continue down the hallway and not stop outside of this door. For a moment it sounded like you had moved on, so much so that Javi felt himself visibly relax and let out a sigh. But that moment was short lived. When Javi heard the door knob turn he quickly said, “shit Murph, lie,” and then he ducked behind one of the filing cabinets against the wall.

“What the-” Steve said, looking confused, but for only a minute as you quickly came bursting through the door seething with anger.

“Murphy, where is he?” you said, steam practically coming out of your ears at how mad and pissed off you were at Javier Peña.

“I don’t-”

“Don’t give me that I don’t know shit. You two are practically glued together at the hip, so where the hell is he?” You bit back, standing right in front of Steve’s face.

“Woah, now wait just a second there princess, don’t be biting my head off. I don’t know where he is, or what he’s done, but you can just curb that attitude of yours and-”

“Don’t act like you don’t know what he’s done. This smells like both Peña and Murphy antics to me,” you said, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Well sorry cariño, I don’t know where he is or what he’s done.”

Huffing, you let out another long sigh, balling your fists up and slamming them tight against your side. “This is what he’s done,” you said, shoving the box you were holding with the card in his face. “And if you happen to see him, you can tell him that I’m looking for him.”

You went to leave, but Murphy blocked your exit saying, “wait a second here princess, don’t go and give me something like this and then take off. Let’s see what’s gotten your panties in a twist.”

“I knew it, it was your idea. I don’t get why you both have to always be so-” But before you could finish Steve had opened the box and saw what was inside it. Steve pulled out a pair of black lace panties that had a vibrator attached to them, and as he did he noticed the note at the bottom of the box. The note was written in Javi’s handwriting and said, “for all those lonely nights baby, when you’re so wound up and don’t have a man that can be inside you. Enjoy.” Signed, Javier Peña.

Murphy was shocked at what he saw and couldn’t help but laugh out loud. He knew Javi loved to rile you up, and he had to hand it to his partner, he definitely got you going. It was the perfect gift to get even for all those irritating moments the three of you had. But when he looked up at you he immediately froze, his laugh dying out in his throat. Your eyes were red and puffy now as frustrated tears streamed down your face. Steve could tell that the jokes maybe went a little too far this time.

“Sweetheart, we’re-”

“Don’t, just don’t Steve,” you said, grabbing the box and throwing everything back inside, not wanting to look up at him. “I get it, it’s a joke. A really fucking mean joke, ya know. You all can have any woman that you want. And here I am, in Columbia, and I can’t even get sleazy drug lords to choose me when I’m undercover. Shit, I couldn’t even keep my ex-fiance faithful on this day. You guys will find this hilarious, last year I found my ex fucking my sister. Apparently he never wanted me, wanted her cause now they’re getting married and having a baby and I’m not welcome around my family any more, cause I guess I can’t keep anyone happy. So nice of you to give the other girls flowers, and tell them how great they are when they don’t even fucking do anything for you. Meanwhile I have five bullet wounds and several cracked ribs for covering your asses. By the way, you guys are getting a raise in pay and I’m getting a 5 dollar reduction in pay. Apparently the superiors feel that it’ll give you guys motivation or something. So yeah, you’re right, perfect joke. Happy fucking Valentine’s Day to me.” And with that you left, slamming the door.

This was a joke that Peña and Murphy started with you about six months ago when you were placed undercover to go and try to extract information of the whereabouts of Pablo Escobar. They placed you at a brothel, knowing that some of Pablo’s higher up men were going to come to choose women to give them sexual favors for the night. With the help of a few informants, they had dressed you up and gave you pointers on how women acted in these places in Colombia. Javi had made a joke at you that you were the highest paid prostitute on the street, but when it came time for Pablo’s men to take you, you were the only one left behind. You weren’t ugly, you actually were quite beautiful, but that night Javi and Murphy had a hay day with you, as you were the only one that was not chosen. To make matters worse, you had gone out with them that night and couldn’t even get a guy to buy you a drink at the bar, let alone talk with you. And now the joke, you thought, had gone too far. Humiliated and embarrassed, you went and gathered your things and left to go home for the day, not wanting to see anyone again.

After you stormed out, and Murphy knew you were gone, he walked over to where Javi was, facing the back wall. “You got her vibrating panties?” Steve said, shaking his head and laughing.

“At the time, I thought it was a good idea. But something got lost in translation I suppose,” he said, still not wanting to leave his hiding spot.

“Peña, let me give you some advice. If you like a girl, don’t get her vibrating panties and then give her a card that says ‘for all those lonely nights when you don’t have a man.’ It just makes you look like an even bigger dick than what you already are.”

“Yeah, I realize that now,” he said, still not coming out of his hiding spot.

“Did ya know any of that other shit she was talking about?” Steve said, pulling a cigarette out and lighting it. Javi shook his head no as he came out of where he was hiding.

“Kinda fucked up if you ask me. Fucking her own sister and then marrying her. Talk about a cold hearted son of a bitch.”

“Yeah, I never knew. Fuck Murph, what do I do?”

“You already know what you gotta do man. Or do I need to call her back in here so she can spell it out for you?”

“Fuck you,” Javi said, walking out the door to go find you. He felt like the biggest dick right now. The gift and note wasn’t a joke from him, and he hated to think that you felt like it was.

Javi eventually learned that you had decided to go home for the day, leaving your work here. “She’s taking a sick day,” is what Maria, the secretary in the front office, had told him. Javi had attempted to get some paperwork done, but he kept thinking about you and how hurt you sounded when talking with Murphy. He didn’t mean for it to come off as a joke, in fact Javi wanted you to have the panties for a good reason, he wanted you to wear them for him.

Javi had been the biggest pain in your ass from the start. He was always coming over to your desk, forcing you to work through his work, making you work in the field with him, etc. To you it felt like he was punishing you for being good at your job. But in reality, he secretly liked you and wanted to be with you. Javi didn’t know why he couldn’t communicate his feelings to you, why he always had to make fun of you or rile you up. “I’m taking a sick day,” Javi told Murphy as he walked towards the door.

Murphy, who was still at his desk, said “Connie said she’s at home now.” Connie was one of your best friends here in Colombia. Being in a foreign country was hard, and making friends was even harder, especially what you did for a job. Your friends back at home disagreed with your career choice of being sent to Colombia, so your entire support structure was no longer there. Connie was one of the nicest women you had met or seen in the longest time. She understood your career choice, and didn’t hold it against you when your plans would change.

Javi had stopped and bought a dozen flowers from a street vendor before he got to your house. When he knocked on the door he softly said, “querida, I’m so sorry. Please open up, I didn’t mean to make you cry, I-”

“Who the fuck said you made me cry Peña?” you said, opening up the door suddenly, looking up at him with bloodshot eyes, tears at your lash line.

“No one I, Jesus woman, c’mere,” he said, stepping inside and placing the flowers on the end table by the door when he saw your face. He then reached for you, pulled you tight into his chest, holding you as the dam opened up again and the tears fell. “I’m so sorry baby, so sorry. I didn’t mean how it came out, fuck-”

“What did I do for you to hate me?” you said, voice muffled in his chest.

“Nothin’ baby, I don’t hate you, I-” he said, rubbing his hand up and down your back, trying to soothe you. This was not going the way that he had hoped.

“I mean, I pull extra duty, and am one of the strongest hitters on the team. Fuck Javi, I even have brought in more leads than Murphy and yet you publicly humiliate me.” You said, as a sob broke free from your mouth. You didn’t know why you were opening up, allowing Javi to attempt to soothe you. You just didn’t have it in you to fight right now, too emotionally worked up to even care.

“No, no, baby. It ain’t like that, look at me,” Javi said, pulling you away from his chest and gently cupping your face with his hands. “Querida, I got them for you and for me, for you to think about me.”

Shaking your head you stepped back and said, “what? Peña, what the fuck are you talking about for you and me? I’m not-”

“Shit, this ain’t coming out the way I wanted it to,” Javi said, pacing back and forth in your living room. Javi was mumbling to himself, unsure of how to deal with the situation and correct it. Not knowing how to place it into words, his feelings, he thought that he could show you. He immediately reached for you and kissed you hard on the lips. Javi, once again, was hoping the kiss would show you that he cared, but all you read was he was being condescending once again. You immediately pulled back and found your strength and slapped Javi hard across his face.

“Javi, what the fuck do you think you’re doing? Just because I’m crying, trying to understand why the guy I have a crush on hates me, doesn’t give you the right to-”

“I like you,” he said, rubbing the sting site he felt across his cheek. Damn that woman could hit hard, he thought to himself. You continued to talk overtop of him, not realizing what he just said. You kept saying how much of an asshole he’s been to you and how much you hate men as you’ve always been taken advantage of. Javi shook his head at you, hearing words such as dickhead, asshole along with other words such as, pendejo and cabrón. You kept telling him off, not listening to anything that he had just told you.

With a sarcastic laugh, he said, “I can’t fucking believe you, you don’t listen baby.” He was now getting just as frustrated at you for not listening to him. She says I don’t listen, hell, she doesn’t listen.

All you heard was ‘I can’t fucking believe you’ and nothing else. Once again, you marched over to smack Javi hard across the face. But this time, he caught your hand mid-air saying, “I don’t think so cariño. You only get one free hit, and you already used it up for today.”

The sadness that you felt earlier had now turned into blinding anger and rage. You started fighting back. You were done with men treating you like assholes, for cheating on you with your sister, for not listening to you or even attempt at paying attention. You started hitting Javi’s chest, yelling at him and saying, “you’re an asshole,” over and over again. You were throwing a temper tantrum, frustrated about the last few days, and Javi was your outlet. However, Javi didn’t see your attitude nor behavior as enduring or even cute. Him, having about enough of you using him as a physical punching bag, decided to take matters into his own hands to calm you down. He grabbed your hand and threw it behind your back, slamming you to the ground while yelling, “Enough.”

You kept trying to kick him, to hurt him more. You weren’t part of this planet anymore, you just saw red at reliving every shitty moment for the last six years. Of taking the smacks to the face your boyfriend gave you when he was drunk and you questioned why he had red lipstick stains on his shirt and around his cock as you undressed him from a night out with his friends. What you didn’t know is that it was your sister’s lips that were around him, and not some other woman. It didn’t make those moments easier, but you always thought that maybe it was just a one night stand, not a five year long relationship behind your back.

You kept kicking Javi, yelling that you were done with people hurting you, clearly not seeing him anymore. To help calm you down, Javi maneuvered his body so he was sitting on your ass, with your arm behind your back. Your chest was laying flat on the floor, his chest then tight on your back as he snarled in your ear, “you’re gonna stop this shit, right now, stop trying to hit me.”

“Fuck you David-” you said, not realizing that you called him your ex.

“I’m not him baby. I never was, nor will I ever be him. So stop calling me David, my name isn’t fucking David.” Javi growled in your ear, leaning harder into you to get you to calm down.

You finally relaxed at hearing Javi speak to you, reminding yourself that he wasn’t your ex. As soon as you relaxed Javi released your arm, but stayed firm against you, hands on both sides of your head as he breathed hard and fast at the fight that you gave him. It was then that you remembered everything that Javi and you were, everything that you were alone.

Sometimes at night when you couldn’t sleep you’d go back into work and find Javi working alone at his desk. He’d always come over and ask you why you were showing up at work around midnight on a day where you just placed in 12 hours. Alone the two of you would always find moments where you could be soft with each other. He’d order you both greasy pizza to eat at night and he’d tease you of picking off all the pepperoni. Nights where you were scared to be home alone, he’d take you back to his house and you’d sleep in his bed when he slept on the couch. When you got shot several times, after you were discharged home, he’d stay with you in your apartment. He even slept next to you on your bed a few times.

He also bathed you when you got sick with a fever from the infection of the bullet wounds, and nursed you back to health for several weeks. If you were being honest, Javi was your best friend when the two of you were alone. But at work, he was the biggest dickhead. You were jealous when he started flirting with the new secretary that came in, Phillis, and hated when you saw him at the brothel down the street. Javi never attempted sex with you, and honestly, it upset you. You wanted him, but apparently he never wanted you. So at work you took out your frustration the only way you knew how, you became a pain in his ass like he was a pain in yours.

But when Javi didn’t move, continuing to breathe hard in and out, you knew that something had changed. You went to move your ass and immediately he hissed “don’t” as his hips stayed tight against yours, not moving nor letting you up. After a moment of submitting to him you heard him ask in a strained voice “are you calm enough for me to move or do we have to keep you like this for a little longer?”

You didn’t know why you felt like saying it out loud, but you didn’t want to play this game of not being honest with him anymore. “I’ve calmed down, but Javi, I’d like it if you stay like this for a little while, hell you can even push deeper into me if you want.” You gave Javi a little wiggle of your ass at his statement.

The air around the two of you changed, thickening with sexual tension. “Shit baby, ya can’t say that to me,'' he said, slightly leaning forward and pushing his crotch tighter to your ass. You felt him slightly rock back and forth, groaning at the feel of you beneath him.

You slightly arched your back, pushing up so he could kiss your neck. When you changed the position both of you moaned loud in unison, feeling his hips slowly grind harder into you. You never remembered feeling this good by just letting a man grind into you, but fuck, Javi was slowly making you feel feral.

“Javi, I don’t-” you said slowly.

“No,” He growled, not wanting you to tell him to stop. He couldn’t take it anymore, couldn’t hold back. He wanted so desperately to be deep inside of your warm cunt that he was struggling right now to keep his composure. “Fuck hermosa, feel what you do to me.”

But you were, you felt how much Javi wanted you and you knew how much you wanted him. You laid there and let him slowly grind his hips into you again until something snapped inside.

“Javi, fuck me,” you said, pushing your ass harded back into him.

Javi immediately stilled his hips at your statement, looking down at you, trying to determine if what you were asking was what he thought. When he didn’t respond again, you said with a little more bite, “Javi, you gave me a vibrator for all those lonely nights when I don’t have a man’s dick inside of me. Please, I don’t want to use the vibrator tonight. For once on Valentine’s Day I want a man inside me that fucking cares. If you really care, please give me that.”

You felt Javi get off from you and walk away, towards the door, rustling around with something. You laid face down in the middle of your living room, tears welling up in your eyes at being rejected once again. You hated this fucking holiday, but when you let out a little sniffle you felt his hand cup your chin, turning you to the side. With the softest eyes possible he said, “come on now, no more crying. Now up you go,” as he helped you stand. Once you were standing he smiled down at you and then gave you a slow tender kiss on the lips. When he pulled back he held out the black lace panties in front of your face.

“Here, I bought these for you. Now, go and put them on, and let me see them on you. Then I’m gonna fuck you like you deserve, like a man that’s wanted to be with you from the moment he laid eyes on you. Fuck what you stupid ex did to you last year-”

“And every year before,” you said softly.

Javi’s eyes got impossibly dark, anger and lust mixing with them. He hated your ex, the man that broke you. If Javi had to spend the rest of his life showing you that you deserved more, then he would do it. Fuck his superiors, or anyone else that thought he and you shouldn’t be together.

“The fact that you say that makes me angry that any man would ever-”

“Forget it Javi, it’s-”

“No. Now pay attention sweetheart, cause I’m only gonna say it once. No man should ever make you feel like this, ever, you hear me? Now, go put them on baby, and let me see you in them. Then, I’m gonna take you to bed and show you how a man is supposed to treat the woman he cares about.”

“Oh, and how’s that Peña, what are you gonna do that makes me forget all the stupid shit other men have done?” You said, playfully nudging Javi and his cockiness that you have found you love.

Javi grabbed you by the hair and tilted your head back while whispering above you, “I’m gonna fuck you so good that you’re gonna forget every man before me, baby. Then I’m gonna show you how a real man treats the woman he’s crazy over. It’s just you and me, and I’ll remind you of that every night before we go to sleep. There’s no one’s pussy I’d rather be buried in than yours. I only want to be balls deep in you, and not anyone else.” Javi then slammed his lips onto yours and gave you a kiss like you deserved.

Maybe you had to have David be in your life and screw you over, because without him, you’d never have met Javier Peña. Javi was a real man that made good on his promises, of being the man that you needed. Before the night was over, and after you came down from your intense rough sex with him, you found yourself looking into his eyes and seeing the potential for a future once again. As Javi slowly rocked into you, making slow love at the end, he whispered, “you’re mine cariño, and I’m never letting you go.” And that was the thing that tipped you both over the edge, moaning each other’s names and kissing each other like you both had just found your future soulmate.

Javi did make good on his promises, he never let you go.

221 notes · View notes

captainjacklyn · 7 months

Text

Love, Love, Love Part 1-ish

A/N : a small fic made from this incorrect quote which I promised a part 2 and here it is just- longer.

Context : Rollo gets transferred to NRC for a few months, The Headmaster decides that he would be staying at Ramshackle Dorm much to Malleus' dismay (along with grim and the first years who are aware of the truth). Yuu doesn't find it nice either but with time they allow the third year to open up to them, eventually growing mutual respect for one another, perhaps some friendship..and a bit more.

Warning(s) : fluff, hints of rollo liking Yuu, this is a continuation of some sort to my joke so pls understand that it isn't from the beginning, Rollo might be OOC he's just scared of Yuu, they/them pronouns for Prefect !

A bit of background..

"I'm back from dealing with the principal's casual destruction ! How are you boys holding up ?" The prefect announced their arrival back at Ramshackle the moment they got in. A smile, half glad it was over while the other half expressed their passive aggressive bitterness from when taking care of other people's jobs. Grim was laying on the couch looking at one of his notebooks to try and study for an upcoming assessment. Rollo flamm, a new temporary resident of the manor was reading a book of his own next to the fiery raccoon, his attention turned to Yuu when he heard their voice.

"Ah. Welcome back Prefect, are you alright ?" He asked, placing his volume on the side and getting up from his seat to take their bag. Yuu thanked him and stretched their arms before walking over to Grim and patting his head. The feline let out a hum as his henchman did so and once the bedroom door closed, the two occupants glared at each other.

"Weasel."

"Simp"

Since it was the weekend, most students had the option to rest their minds or do the opposite of relax because of a test. "Hey guys what are you doing ?" This current scene happened a few days after the first, Yuu was once again returning to Ramshackle. Though this time, they stopped at the small gates when they noticed their first year friend group staring at Rollo from a distance.

When the Prefect called out to them, Ace quickly turned around and shushed them. "We're observing the enemy." Deuce explained in a hushed tone, They only chuckled at their antics and Epel attempted to defend their choice of pass-time. "We don't what he could be planning this time ! I mean he's gardening right now, you know what that means.." The way his tone of voice changed towards the end of his sentenced made Deuce frown in remembrance of that incident.

Yuu shook their head with a knowing smile as they approached them and ruffled Epel's hair. "Don't worry, I'm making sure he doesn't make the same mistake. He's getting better, I promise." They didn't buy it but Ace nodded along with a shrug, possibly considering the option since he wasn't there when it all happened.

To reassure them, Yuu continued as they all looked back at Rollo who was watering the plants at the entrance. (he stated that it would look nice because of how dried the yard was, Yuu only agreed as long as he did the work) "I'm sure he'll change into becoming a nice normal man...very normal." then Rollo started to spin around as he watered the flora. The collective all narrowed their eyes, "That's not very normal." Yuu commented.

In a minute he changed his stance completely and went back to his original position. "That's normal." The prefect spoke while pointing at him to prove their judgement, Adeuce and Epel nodded their heads at the same time. However they all scrunched up their faces and tilted their head to the side a second after Rollo sprayed fertilizer in his eyes.

Yuu ignored it and gave Deuce a pat on the shoulder. "Anyways- It's gonna be exciting to have someone new around. Nobody is born bad, I promise you that. I'll get to know him and we can all share our lands...even though I feel like contradicting my own words." they muttered under their breath as they walked away from the group and pass the gates, to go speak to their tenant who was..performing strange water rituals. "Flamm !"

Their voice was firm enough to have the eyebag silver-haired individual look their way the instance they spoke. Mostly because they made it very clear that they were the boss around this area, by using threats that is..brutal ones to say the least.

"Oh hello Prefect, I was just taking care of the plants-" "Yes I know you were performing your bizarre holy water ceremony." They cut him off halfway and right when he was about to say something, the not-so-genuine smile on their face made him change his mind. "Uh Yes..that was it." he accepted their statement, learned a while ago that saying no to someone who could force him to sleep in mud wasn't the best option.

Then Yuu suddendly perked up. "Oh right I came back from Sam's shop to bring you these, just like you requested." Reaching into their satchel, the magicless student handed him a few bags of flower seeds. He offered a small smile as he took them, "Thank you." Rollo responded, they answered with another smile and although they were serious, it was much more for setting something straight rather than intimidating him. "I trust you, Rollo..And I really hope that your brief stay with us helps you with whatever you're..going through I guess." Yuu carried on, Rollo looked at them for a while as he took in their words, he then gave them another small smile.

"Thank you..I appreciate it." They chuckled as he spoke softly. "Just looking out for my non-non magic user !" they joked.

A little further off was the trio of freshman watching the scene unfold in disbelief.

"He has to go."

"Agreed."

hope you liked reading this, part 2/3

296 notes · View notes

3cremepie3 · 8 months

Text

Chatterbox

Sypnopsis - Professor Crowley helping you his dear student relive some stress.

Warnings - Smut 18+, Teacher x student, squirting, dirty talk, humiliation, gagging, flattery!

A/n - I was been supposed to get this done. Sorry for the delay I got really busy with school. But it’s out now thanks for the support! And also before anyone starts Y/n is grown. REBLOG PLS!!

“It’s been months since I’ve seen my family! My friends hell even my enemies.” What have you been doing this whole time? Answer me, Crowley,” you demanded!

“Y/n I have a school to run on top of trying to solve your impossible dilemma. For all I know you might’ve fallen from the sky like the tums.” Well, you’re not doing a good job at your school if your students keep overblotting,” you snapped.

You were tired of Crowley's BS that’s why you stormed into his office. You were currently standing over his desk looking his stupid mask in the eyes. He sat on his chair which resembled a bird cage.

“I have to be the one to stop them from dying because conveniently somehow you’re never around. You told me I could be a student here, not a therapist.” As pathetic as it may be you began to cry the built stress of holding back your feelings let loose.

“I need help myself I don’t have time to help others. Please Crowley help me find a way home,” you sobbed. Crowley sighed before clutching you closer to him.

“I'm a generous headmaster I hate to see my students under such stress. Especially beautiful ones that I’m trying to help every day. Crowley pulled your hands away from your face. Here come closer Y/n.” You followed his instructions as he pulled slightly on your arm.

He opened up one of his desk drawers to a file with your name on it. “This is everything I’ve collected on you so far even after using my global resources,” he spoke.”You read through the files while bent over his desk for a better view.

You could see how every lead he got was scratched off. It was hard to read since he had chicken scribble but you got through most of it. Crowley had been trying. But this file just proved one more thing you were never getting home. In a moment of shock you fell back and the tears began to stream again. You were in Crowleys now lap to upset to move. “Sorry Mr. Crowley,” you sniffed. “I can see now that you have been trying.”

“Yes this whole time this situation has been stressful for me as well since you’re quite troublesome on campus,” he joked. You could tell he was trying to lighten the mood. “I guess you have it hard too.” You shifted so that you could look at him not even remembering that you were on his lap.

“Um yeah I guess you could say that,” he coughed. For a second you wondered what he meant by that and then you felt it. His large hard on pressing onto your back. “Oh I should get up,” you yelped.

“No, I don’t mind you staying here. You look too pretty when you cry. And it seems like we could both use a little bit of a stress relief. Look at how tense you are.” He started to massage your shoulders then his hands rolled down to your neck.

You let out a sharp exhale startled by his cold hand on such a sensitive area. He began to grind himself into your now-exposed panties since your skirt was lifted. “I’ll continue only if you want me to Y/n. It’s an honor to make love to someone like me,” he chuckled.

“I’ve never done anything like this Mr. Crowley.” It’s okay I’ll walk you through it there’s no way you won’t enjoy your time with me.” Okay I’ll try then.”

“But are we gonna do it here? What if someone walks in?” They can’t do much to the I'm the headmaster after all.” His hands gripped your ass giving it a firm squeeze. “I don’t know Mister this seems like a bad idea.

“Hey,” you protested. “Just calm down.” His fingers ghosted over your pussy causing you to squirm. “Squirming already I guess you’re nervous. I would be too if I were having sex with me.”

“Shhh just sit and relax.” He put your legs on each side of the chair legs and held your back for support. “Let’s get these useless things off.” He cut off your panties in an instant with his claws.

“Your egos too high,” you spoke. “And your mouth is too smart it would be best if I stuff you quiet.” What huh.” You asked not fully registering what he meant. The leftover fabric of your panties was stuffed in your mouth.

“That’s better.” One of his hands gripped your thigh tighter as the other worked off his golden claws and gloves. You waited watching his every move. His fingers were abnormally long and slender. He also had claw-like fingernails on all but two of his middle fingers. You didn’t think Mr. Crowley would get any pussy he seemed too busy but you were wrong. He knew exactly what to do massaging your clit while teasing your fluttering hole.

Your moans could be heard through your gag. “Feels good huh?” I can tell it does look at how you’ll suck me up.” He inserted his finger then and your heat greedily accepted him.

“See I’m always right!” You ready to take the next one? He questioned inbetween tasting your juices on his finger. You shook your head quickly slightly ashamed at your eagerness. The stretch felt heavenly to the point where you sunk your hips down further on his fingers.

“So needy huh? You needed this Y/n you need me huh?” You shook your head again grinding yourself up and down on his fingers. By now your pussy was so wet it started to make lewd sounds.

They got louder and louder the longer you fucked yourself on his fingers. Crowley sat back admiring the view. Your pussy was on full display since your uniform skirt was lifted. You felt his eyes burning onto you. His gaze wasn’t a judgemental but a loving one.

He realized how much of a slut he just found. He would just have to train you to realize it. But you were quickly breaking out of your box. Your moans were turning into whines. You were close now bouncing on his curved fingers like a fuck rabbit.

Your hands dug into his shoulders landing on his soft feather-filled Shaw. You buried your face in his neck too ashamed to face him. “Most women would get tired by now and want me to fuck them. I guess you young ones have more stamina.”

He was such a talkative asshole you wish that he would shut up. But you couldn’t stop now when you were so close to cumming. You were so close to letting go your juices were dripping down his fingers wetting his dress shirt.

“Such a loud sloppy mess for me. You’re doing so good Let me see how you feel with this.” He stopped all motion leaving you breathless. For a second you were hopeless that he was gonna help you finish. But his hands boosted your thighs up now your pussy was nearing his mouth.

You gasped into your gag you were high up now with no support other than his hair to hold. “Shh calm down I never dropped anyone doing this. Just give in everything will be okay.” He spoke sending vibrations and chills up your already shakey spine. He licked up around your thighs purposefully missing your needy parts. You whined pulling him forward. “Lick here.” You tried to illustrate through your gag.

This was the longest you’ve been edged your entire impatient life. You used your tongue to push your gag out you could’ve taken being bound any longer. “Headmage please I need your mouth. I need to cum or I think I’ll go crazy. Now stop being a fucking tease,” you demanded. “That’s not nice language young lady.” Okay, I’m sorry I’m sorry,” you pleaded.

“Fine, I’ll be kind enough to spare you.” Ahh! You screamed being unexpectedly dropped. You were back on Crowley's lap then you were back on the desk. You spread your legs again and finally after what felt like forever his mouth met your clit.

You wrapped your legs around his head tightly. “You’re not escaping this bit.” No problem I can stay like this for hours,” he murmured. He began to lap up your juices that had pilled up from all his teasing.

“Mmm, that feels good.” Doesn't it baby I heard my head game is superior.” Stop hearing and start focusing,” you instructed. “You’re insufferable,” you sighed. “And you're sweet so sweet,” he explained through slurps.

“Mmm Crowley,” you groaned. “You’re so naughty y/n I feel you twitching on my tongue. Are you about to cum? You must be look at how you’re shaking.” You hadn’t even noticed that how your body was reacting.

“Yes I’m about to cum!” Hmm,” he pondered. “Should I really let you cum? I don’t think this naughty pussy deserves it.” He teased while slapping your clit. You tightened in surprise and sprung up. “Crowley!”

“Fuck please just let me I’ve been waiting so long.” He gave you a reassuring glance latching his mouth to your clit. This time you knew he would allow you to cum. He didn’t let up for a second not even to breathe.

His mask partially lifted but you were too out of it to look at his secret identity. Your vision began to blur so you just shut your eyes as tight as they could go. Crowley didn’t like how your body was pulling away so his arm held your stomach down.

There was no escaping his tounges harsh attack even after you began to cum. He continued prolonging your orgasm. Your toes curled and even the iron grip he had on your waist wasn’t enough to stop you from shaking.

“Fuck I’m gonna! Ahh, I’m gonna squirt if you keep that up,” you warned. “I don’t mind the mess my dear but I do mind your volume.” He explained before pulling you into a smothering kiss.

You let go completely over his lanky fingers. “Headmage!! You screamed into his mouth. His tongue swayed across yours muffling your sound. “Ahh.” You sighed relieved that your edging was over. You were trying to relax your breathing for a moment before you hit Crowley. “What the fuck why are you such a tease?!”

“I have to be and anyways you should be grateful look at how hard you came.” You left my desk all sticky.” Well it’s gonna stay that way,” you chuckled. You slid off his desk pulling your panties back up.

“C’mon don’t leave my little stress reliever. Don’t you want to help your dear Headmage out a little more after I was so kind to you?” He grabbed his buldge and for a second you wanted to go back down on your knees.

But the bell ringing distracted your thoughts. “I need to be a good student like I said earlier. So bye Crowley. You left leaving him a hard insatiable mess.

191 notes · View notes

darkstarofchaos · 3 months

Note

For the character ask game, I'm not sure how many numbers you're willing to do for a single ask, so you can just do as much as you want from this. For Prowl - 2, 3, 7, 8, 12, 15, 16, 23, 25

I don't mind a bunch of numbers! Gives me an excuse to ramble, lol. And to rant, because Prowl deserves better.

2: Favorite canon thing about this character?

His willingness to look Optimus in the face and tell him he's being stupid, and to do his own thing to mitigate the stupidity if he has to. Mostly applicable to IDW, but Optimus needs a foil so badly in G1 that I've pretty much transplanted it into G1 Prowl when I write him. Not in its entirety, because G1 Prowl isn't IDW Prowl, but I like that he has his own opinions on tactics and morality and doesn't just go with the Autobot collective. His job is not to be a yes-mech; it's to keep people alive and win battles. If his commander is making stupid decisions, what benefit is there in standing back and letting it happen?

3. Least favorite canon thing about this character?

Making the police car an actual cop was the most boring decision anyone could have made. In stories where the Cybertronians choose their alts, especially, there are so many more interesting things you could say about his character by giving him a pre-war job that's completely unrelated to his Earth alt. For example, I like to think he chose it for tactical reasons: it's a common black and white vehicle, thus perfect as a disguise, and the sirens let him "legally" break Earth traffic laws in an emergency. It's far more interesting if his alt is a result of strategy and reasoning instead of, "I guess I'll take the one that matches my old job description."

7. What's something the fandom does when it comes to this character that you like?

I like that people took the little tidbit about Prowl having trouble with the unexpected that has exclusively appeared in two bios (that I'm aware of) and made it reasonably common. Would be really nice if they treated it seriously instead of making it comic relief, but maybe it does get treated more seriously these days. I don't read a lot of Prowl fic.

Let's talk about why.

8. What's something the fandom does when it comes to this character that you despise?

The image compilations of Prowl getting punched. The prick jokes that litter every TF Wiki page for every G1-based Prowl. The fanfics where Prowl is an uncompromising jerk or straight-up hate sink because the author needed a mean Autobot. The conversations and hypotheticals that make Prowl the source of any amoral action the Autobots take. The people who distill him down into Essence of Asshole and strip out every positive or sympathetic quality he has.

"Prowl gets villainized for being sensible" is one of my most hated fanfic tropes. Grab just about any fic where a Decepticon defects or earns the Autobots' sympathy in some way, and Prowl will be the only one who's unhappy with the situation. Which is perfectly reasonable because that is an enemy and he has no reason to trust them, let alone like them. But because we're supposed to sympathize with the Decepticon, that makes Prowl the villain. The other Autobots aren't naive and unreasonably forgiving, Prowl is just a bad person.

And it's not just IDW fics. G1 Prowl didn't get a whole lot of screen time, and thus no chance to develop his own personality, so he gets slapped with the same portrayal. Never mind the fact that when he does show up, he's one of the nicest characters - sure, he gets in on trash talking the Decepticons (though far less than some of the Autobots), but he's always helping out around base, shows concern for others, and pretty much stays out of interpersonal conflict. And yet, in stories based on a cartoon that has Powerglide, Gears, Cliffjumper, and Optimus Prime himself, I am expected to believe Prowl is the Autobots' resident jerk. Not gonna happen.

12. What's a headcanon you have for this character?

As I mentioned earlier, it's kind of quasi-canon that Prowl has trouble dealing with the unexpected. It's never appeared in any actual media, but it does come from official sources, so I wouldn't call it a headcanon. But I do headcanon that he has some pretty severe anxiety in dealing with people because of it. Things like math and physics are reliable; if something doesn't do what you expect it to, it's because you lacked information, and you can remedy that. You can update your calculations based on the results you actually got, or try to find out what you were missing the first time. Given enough data, you can predict just about anything as long as the results are consistent.

People are not consistent. You can make some sweeping generalizations about them based on categories - social groups, behaviors, readily obvious personality traits - but you can never say with certainty that someone will react in a specific way to something. Once you've known them for a while, you start to understand them and can anticipate them with a reasonable degree of accuracy, but that's assuming their behavior is genuine and consistent. If they're messing with you or pretending to be something they aren't, your data is inaccurate, and you can't correct it unless you know it's inaccurate.

People are the only things in the natural world that can deliberately give you false data about what to expect from them. So yes, I think Prowl has social anxiety. And probably some form of people-centric agoraphobia or anthropophobia.

(I also headcanon him as biromantic asexual. It has nothing to do with the above, and actually predates the anxiety headcanon).

15. What's your favorite ship for this character? (Doesn't matter if it's canon or not.)

If I had to pick just one pairing, I guess I would say Jazz/Prowl. Which is ironic, because for a long time, it was one of my least favorite Prowl pairings. Not because it was particularly objectionable; it was just everywhere, and I couldn't see it working. I think of Prowl as the kind of person who needs a steady, reliable partner who will let him have his routines and respect his desire to plan things before doing them, and Jazz's thing is more spontaneity and flexibility. He seemed like one of the worst partners for Prowl, especially with how I developed Prowl's disorders over the years.

In the end, though, that spontaneity is what brought them full circle to a pairing I can support. Because I do think Jazz would be willing to compromise and accommodate for Prowl's needs, and that Prowl could eventually trust that he's not going to suddenly change how he acts around him. It's a rather tenuous case of opposites attract, and requires patience from both parties, but I can see it working now.

16. What's your least favorite ship for this character?

First, an honorable mention goes to my immediate impulse, which was Constructicons/Prowl. I get why people want IDW Prowl to have someone on his side, and I don't think the Constructicons meant any harm. But Prowl was forced into the team through a series of traumatic events, the Constructicons like him for things he hates about himself, and being a part of Devastator seems to have contributed to his psychological decline. It wasn't a good or healthy situation for him, and I feel like the Constructicons having romantic feelings for him actually makes it more uncomfortable for me.

That being said, I'm going to have to go with Optimus/Prowl as my absolute least favorite ship. Optimus is very strongly motivated by morality and will generally take what he perceives to be the most moral action in a given situation. Pair that with someone like Prowl, who is willing to cross lines when he feels he has to, and you already have a relationship on rough ground. The only way things can work between them is either for Optimus to accept Prowl's "moral failings", or for Prowl to change a fundamental part of himself. There is literally no option that doesn't require one of them to compromise their principles or change who they are. And since Optimus isn't the kind of person who will do that, the only hope for a relationship is to "fix" Prowl. And that gets into abusive territory, because Optimus has power over Prowl in both the physical sense and in their professional relationship. He also has social power, because because Prowl is unpopular and Optimus is exactly the kind of person you wouldn't expect to be capable of abuse.

And yes. For the sake of argument, it could be toxic from Prowl's side too. He could try to hurt Optimus by throwing his mistakes in his face, or by blaming him for everything that goes wrong. But Optimus has a great deal of confidence in himself and the support of pretty much everyone, while Prowl is isolated and already isn't proud of things he's done. He is far more vulnerable to abuse than Optimus is, socially and psychologically, and he just doesn't deserve that.

23. Favorite picture of this character?

Mmm. I guess I would have to say this one, since it inspired an entire story that I'm still working on. There's actually another one that I like better (which also spawned an in-progress story), but I'd have to do more digging to find the link for that one. Might do it later.

25. What was your first impression of this character? How about now?

When I started watching G1, the Autobots were just a conglomerate of near-identical personalities to me. Prowl was just one of the generic background bots who got a few minutes of screentime in one episode and was otherwise relegated to a support role. I was mildly interested by some of the fanfic portrayals I saw, but I definitely preferred the Decepticons, so I didn't read much where he was a main character unless there were Decepticon MCs too. And most of those fics were written by a couple authors whose endings were consistently disappointing, so after I stopped reading their stuff, Prowl just dropped off my radar.

Nowadays, Prowl is my favorite Autobot (well, second favorite after Skyfire). Thanks to IDW, I kind of see him as the Autobot version of Starscream (narratively if not in personality), but he's also a fascinating character in his own right. I love that he doesn't conform to the Autobots as a whole, he's fun to write and analyze, and he was the one good thing I got out of the IDW comics. 10/10 character, deserves better.

#transformers #Prowl #unpopular opinions

21 notes · View notes

lady-wallace · 6 months

Text

Whumptober Day 24 - "Runaway Train" (JoJo's Bizarre Adventure)

Narancia angst and Dadbacchio for today's @whumptober !

~~~~~~~

Prompts Used: Goodbye Note, Neglect, "I thought they were with you' Fandom: JoJo's Bizarre Adventure Character: Narancia

~~~~~~~

Read on Ao3

Read on FF.net

~~~~~~~

Narancia paced around his room, holding the half-crumpled note in his hand undecidedly, reading over and over his messy scrawl, half of it scratched out. It wasn't like he wanted to do this but…maybe he had jumped the gun a little with his excitement about his new team and frankly, Narancia wasn't interested in being someplace he wasn't wanted anymore.

Part of him wanted to wait for Bucciarati to return so he could apologize to him, explain in person—the man had done so much for him it only seemed right, but he recalled Bucciarati's fury back in the hospital when he had told Narancia not to join Passione, and the thought of facing him now felt like a defeat, like Bucciarati had been right the whole time.

And Abbacchio…well. Narancia couldn't even face Abbacchio again after the screw-up earlier that had led to all this.

He'd started out so confident too, excited for his first real mission, not just running messages and collecting protection money. That day he and Abbacchio had been sent out on a real job, to retrieve an important hard drive with—probably—top secret information on it.

He had been grateful for the distraction, if he were being honest. Everything sucked lately. He couldn't do the math problems Fugo had taught him a million times, leaving the other teen to blow up at him. He'd accidently skipped a whole street of collections he and Abbacchio had gone out to do the day before, leaving Bucciarati to have to go back and take care of them himself. And…well…he already felt like shit because it was that time of year again, and it always hurt, no matter where he was or what he was doing.

So being trusted to accompany Abbacchio on a mission was a boost to his confidence and a welcome distraction.

Until everything had gone to shit and he had messed up big time.

"Okay, listen up," Abbacchio was saying. "We're going to go in and grab the hard drive and that's it."

"Got it."

"You follow my lead."

Narancia followed his lead until they were surprised by a guy who jumped out and split with the hard drive before they could grab it.

Abbacchio swore as he started to give chase but Narancia stepped forward, summoning his Stand.

"Hold on, I got this!" he shouted excitedly, and executed a strafing run with Aerosmith. The runaway cried out, stumbling as he took several bullet wounds, but he was running toward a waiting car, holding out the hard drive to the driver.

"Aerosmith!"

"Hey, wait! The drive is—"

But Narancia was only thinking about making sure the bad guys didn't run off with the hard drive and unloaded Aerosmith's guns into the guy's hand, riddling the hard drive with bullets until it burst into flames. The guy cried out, throwing it aside and leapt into the car before it sped off with a screech of tires.

Narancia grinned and whooped. "All right! Mission accomplished."

"What the hell were you thinking?"

Narancia was spun around by Abbacchio grabbing his shoulder, fury on the goth's face as he loomed over Narancia.

"We needed that hard drive, you idiot! It had vital information on it!"

Narancia shrank back. "But I…"

"And now because of you, the drive is destroyed and the only guy who might know what's on it got away. Nice one, idiot!"

Narancia tried to bite back the sudden lump in his throat, heart pounding as his elation deflated. "I…I'm so—"

"Save it," Abbacchio snarled. "Now I'm gonna have to tell Bucciarati so he can explain this to Polpo. We're gonna look like a fucking joke—next time…you know what, why do I even bother? It's all in one ear out the other with you, isn't it?"

Narancia followed him silently toward the car. He climbed in and had to fight back tears the whole ride back, feeling awful inside. Abbacchio refused to look at him or say anything, simply driving back to the apartment with a tired look on his face.

Narancia tried again to speak when they got in the door.

"A-Abbacchio, I'm really am sorry I screwed up—"

The man simply shouldered past him and went directly to his room, slamming the door.

Narancia stood there for a long moment before he too went to his room, crawling under his blankets.

He could hear when Bucciarati came home, Abbacchio greeting him stiffly before he explained what had happened.

"You gotta figure out what to do with that kid," Abbacchio snapped.

"I know," Bucciarati sighed, and Narancia felt his heart sink further at his tone. "I was afraid he wasn't cut out for it, and maybe I was right."

Another arrow to the heart. Narancia curled further into the bed.

"Do you need me to—"

"No, I'll handle the clean-up on this one. I need to go report to Polpo now."

The day's events would not stop playing over and over in Narancia's head as he stood in his room, indecision tearing him apart. He really thought he'd found a place here, but he'd thought the same thing when he'd been with his old crew too. He'd been so inspired by Bucciarati and Fugo, that he had wanted nothing more than to follow them, but maybe he didn't fit in here either. After all, who wanted a screw up around?

He finally released his pent-up breath and laid the letter down on the messily made bed.

It was better to leave.

He grabbed his backpack and slung it over his shoulder before listening at the door. When he could hear no one up and about, he slipped out and left the apartment, walking out into the night.

XXX

Abbacchio got up early, making coffee. He winced in sympathy as Bucciarati came into the kitchen yawning, his hair still a mess. He'd been out late fixing the mission Abbacchio and Narancia had screwed up and the ex-cop was still pissed about it.

"How did it go?" he asked.

"Not quite over yet, but it won't take too much longer," Bruno murmured, gratefully accepting a mug of coffee as he checked the time. "Can you go out and finish the collection today? I won't have time for it."

"Of course," Abbacchio said. "Give me the list of places I still need to hit."

Bruno nodded and fetched the list. "Oh, and…take Narancia with you. I'm sure he's feeling bad about yesterday and an easy job will help boost his confidence."

Abbacchio sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. "Yeah, all right."

"Go easy on him," Bruno said. "It's…I believe his mother died around this time of year. He's been trying to hide it but I can tell he's down."

Abbacchio felt a pang of sympathy for the kid in his chest. It wasn't that he disliked Narancia at all—the kid was hyper and loud and definitely a little shit, but he was kind of growing on Leone. He honestly felt a little bad for not checking in on Narancia the day before. He knew how bad it could feel to screw up and he had been pretty unforgiving toward Narancia. But he'd spent the afternoon calming down and it looked like he might get an opportunity to talk to the kid today instead.

Bruno left after a quick breakfast and Abbacchio went to get dressed before knocking on Narancia's door.

"Hey, kid? You feel like going out today?"

No answer. Abbacchio knocked again, harder. "Narancia!"

Still no answer.

Abbacchio huffed a sigh but decided to forget it. The kid was probably sulking. He didn't have time to wait around for a sad teenager anyway. Maybe he'd coax Narancia out with pizza for lunch and have a chat with him instead.

He headed out and finished up the protection collection quickly before heading back. He stopped by their usual pizza place and picked up a couple for lunch.

Fugo was back from his own errands by then as well, drawn out with the promise of pizza.

Abbacchio headed to Narancia's room and knocked on the door. "Hey kid, there's pizza."

He waited, but there was still no answer. Frowning, Abbacchio finally opened the door, peeking inside but saw that Narancia was actually nowhere to be found. His bed was even made.

Abbacchio headed back out to the kitchen where Fugo was grabbing a slice.

"Hey, where's Narancia?" Abbacchio asked him.

Fugo gave him an odd look. "I thought he was with you. Bucciarati said you two were doing collection today."

A weird feeling started in Abbacchio's gut, leaving him no longer hungry for the pizza. "He didn't go with me, I knocked on his door this morning and he didn't answer. Did you see him at all?"

Fugo shook his head, his own brow furrowed in worry. "No."

The front door opened and shut and the two looked up hopefully, but deflated slightly when they saw it was Bucciarati.

"Ah, is that pizza I smell? I'm starving."

"Bucciarati, do you have any idea where Narancia might be?" Fugo asked.

Bruno paused with a slice halfway to his mouth looking between Fugo and Abbacchio. "What do you mean? Didn't he go with you today, Abbacchio?"

Abbacchio turned to head back to Narancia's room, stepping inside this time as he looked around, wondering, what? If the kid was hiding like a stray cat?

It was then he saw the crumpled piece of paper on the bed and bent to pick it up, unfolding it.

There were a lot of blacked out bits as if Narancia had re-written it several times, but at the bottom was a couple scrawled sentences:

"Not sure this team is the best fit for me so I decided it was best that I leave. Thanks for giving me a new start—Narancia"

Abbacchio ran back out to the kitchen. "Bucciarati!"

Bucciarati and Fugo looked over the note. Fugo swore.

"That damned idiot!"

Bruno looked worried. "I should have talked to him last night."

"It's not on you," Abbacchio muttered, tucking the note into his pocket. "I'm the one who got pissed and yelled at him."

"You're not the only one," Fugo sighed. "Where do you think he might have gone, Bucciarati?"

"I don't know, but I think we need to go look for him now before he does something he regrets. The last thing I want is for him to beg Polpo to put him with another crew. I don't want him getting into the shit some of the other teams deal with."

Abbacchio and Fugo nodded in agreement and they wordlessly headed out of the apartment, splitting up to look for their missing member.

Abbacchio found him relatively quickly to his relief, sitting on a bench outside of Libecchio with a stuffed backpack sitting between his feet.

Abbacchio crossed the street, taking a deep breath as he thought about what he could say.

When he finally stopped by the bench, he said, "What are you doing out here, kid?"

Narancia startled and looked up at him in surprise before glancing back down. "Was gonna go inside to eat but…don't have any money."

Abbacchio stepped around him to sit down on the other end of the bench. "You know all you have to do is tell them you're part of Bucciarati's team and they'll give you a meal on the house."

Narancia glanced over at him. "Yeah, but I'm not anymore, am I?" he said bitterly.

Abbacchio raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, I saw your note, but the thing is, Bucciarati actually has to okay you leaving the team and moving to another one or whatever you were planning on doing."

Narancia looked down, hands gripping the straps of his backpack. "So I screwed up again." He sighed. "Let's go back then so I can be officially fired."

"Narancia," Abbacchio caught his shoulder before he could get up. "You're not fired. Look, I'm sorry for blowing up at you yesterday, I was just pissed you didn't take a second to listen to a plan. But we've all made mistakes. You just…learn to do better the next time. You know how many screw-ups Bucciarati's had to smooth over for Fugo and me? You're not the only one. But listen." He turned to Narancia and the boy looked up at him cautiously. "This job isn't a game. It's dangerous, and next time, failing to listen to orders might get you or someone else killed. You're the one who made the decision to join Passione despite Bucciarati telling you not too—don't do something stupid and put your death on his hands."

Narancia looked down and Abbacchio cleared his throat, softening his voice slightly. "That being said, as much as I hate to admit it, I think you'll be a good addition to the team."

Narancia perked up slightly, with a small smile. "I'm sorry. I know I don't make great decisions all the time. It's just…this week hadn't been great and I'm kinda extra messed up right now, you know?"

"Yeah, I get it," Abbacchio replied before he stood, shoving his hands in his pockets.

"Come on. If you're hungry, we have pizza at home."

Narancia stood, blinking in surprise as he pulled his backpack over his shoulders. "So…that's it? I just get to go back to the apartment and eat pizza?"

"I'm not saying Bucciarati isn't going to have a talk with you, but you're not getting kicked out or anything."

Narancia's shoulders slumped in relief, before he hesitated. "Um…Abbacchio? Would it be okay to make a quick stop first?"

XXX

Narancia stopped beside his mother's grave, taking a breath before bending to place the small bunch of flowers he had picked on the way. Abbacchio stood off to one side respectfully. It was nice, actually. It had been a long time since Narancia had visited his mother's grave with anyone else. Obviously, his father couldn't be bothered to give a shit about anything, not even his dead wife—or his living son.

"I guess she probably wouldn't be proud of me, huh?" Narancia muttered. "I mean…I'm not exactly doing the best work."

"I don't know about that," Abbacchio spoke up. "I like to think it's all in how you go about it. The world is an unjust place and it's left up to you to find justice for yourself, no matter what you have to do to get there."

Narancia looked up at him, surprised. "Yeah, I like the sound of that."

He set his hand on the gravestone before pulling away.

"Ready to head back?" Abbacchio asked.

Narancia nodded and as Abbacchio started to turn away, he impulsive ran to the older man and threw his arms around him.

Abbacchio froze in surprise, but Narancia squeezed him once before pulling back.

"Thanks, Abbacchio," he said, smiling up at his new teammate.

Abbacchio huffed a breath and actually smiled back, reaching out to ruffle a hand through his hair. "Come on, kid. Let's go home."

~~~~~~~

Check out my Whumptober Masterpost HERE for more stories!

If you want to follow me on other social media or ask about fic or art commissions, find my info on My Carrd

#whumptober2023 #no.24 #goodbye note #neglect #i thought they were with you #jojo's bizarre adventure #fanfic #misunderstandings #death of a parent tw #angst #emotional hurt/comfort #parental leone abbacchio #narancia ghirga #pre series #jjba part 5

11 notes · View notes

pennywaltzy · 1 year

Text

Moments In The Life Of One Daniel "Danny" Messer (1/10)

So here's my old fic for the day! It's a 100-drabble drabble collection that I divided into ten chapters of ten drabbles (I'll post a new chapter every day along with another fic until it's done). They're all little moments in Danny Messer's life.

Moments In The Life Of One Daniel "Danny" Messer - A series of drabbles depicting moments in Daniel "Danny" Messer's life.

Read Chapter 1

Title: First Conversation Prompt: #1 - Beginnings Characters: Danny Messer & Mac Taylor

"You the guy I'm supposed to talk to?"

"Depends on what you're here to talk about."

"Job at the crime lab."

"Then I'm the man. Mac Taylor."

"Detective Messer."

"You have a first name, Detective?"

"Daniel. Everyone calls me Danny, though."

"Messer..."

"Yeah, I'm related to the Messers with the family connections, if that's what you're thinking."

"So...why are you a cop?"

"Someone's got to take them down. Might as well be me, you know? I’m the black sheep of the family anyway."

"Why?"

"Because...because I actually believe in doing more than they do. I want more than they do."

---

Title: Hours To Go Prompt: #6 - Hours Characters: Danny Messer

He was trapped. Hours to go till he could get out, till the panic room opened up. Hours.

God, if he wasn't claustrophobic before, being trapped with a dead body overnight was more than enough to push him in that direction.

Hours. If he concentrated on the hours, kept looking at his watch, talked the hours away on his cell phone till the battery went dead, maybe he'd make it. Maybe he wouldn't lose his mind. Yeah, he just had to remember that every hour that passed was one less for him to be there. Then he’d be long gone.

---

Title: Bad Jokes Prompt: #11 - Red Characters: Danny Messer & Don Flack

The blood spilled across the floor, bright red on pristine white marble. Danny whistled. Lots of blood for one body. Probably meant the victim had either completely bled out before being moved or there was more than one victim...two of them, probably.

"How many vics you say there were?"

"Two," Flack answered. "One Margaret Walden and one Thomas Kettering."

He whistled again, pulled out a camera, snapped a shot of the red stuff. "Bet you they’re drained," he deadpanned, flashing a grin at Flack, who just rolled his eyes.

"Stop it with the bad jokes, Messer. You’re killing me here."

---

Title: Blue In My Eyes Prompt: #16 - Purple Characters: Danny Messer, Stella Bonasera & Lindsay Monroe

"Purple suits you."

He glanced down at his shirt. "You think?"

"Brings out the blue in your eyes." Stella shut her locker. "Remember I told you if you ever needed beauty tips..."

Danny grinned. "I still can't believe what waterproof mascara does to your lashes."

"Yeah, well...price we pay."

He watched her leave, then looked back at his shirt. His grin got bigger...he did look good. Not that anyone would notice his eyes, since they were behind glasses, but...

"You look nice, Danny."

He flashed a wide grin at Lindsay. "Apparently, the purple brings out the blue in my eyes."

---

Title: Have Been, Will Be Prompt: #21 - Friends Characters: Danny Messer & Aiden Burn

"Hey! Wait up!"

"Leave me alone."

"Hey, Aiden...look, I'd give up my job and leave for this, for what happened..."

"Someone's got to stay and look out for my case."

"You know I will. That's what friends do."

"So we're friends?"

"Have been, will be."

"So, as friends...feel like buying me a beer? Or three?"

"What, you're gonna try and out-drink me? Never."

"No, I'm going to try and forget about what just happened."

"Give me your keys and the tab's on me."

"My keys?"

"So I can make sure you get inside your apartment and not left outside. Keys?"

---

Title: Pick-Up Prompt: #26 - Teammates Rating: G Characters: Danny Messer & Don Flack

Danny looked at those guys at the pick-up basketball game. He didn't see Flack anywhere, and everyone else was getting impatient. "Fine. Cook."

"Swann."

"Parker."

"Brown."

Finally, he saw him. "When his lazy butt gets over here, Flack."

"Why do you always pick Flack for your team?" the other captain said.

"Because he's good. And I want the good guys on my team."

"Fine. Robb."

Flack bounded over. "On your team?"

Danny nodded. "Grogan," he called out.

"Friedman."

"Let's get ready and play," tossing the ball to Flack. "Ready?"

"Ready." Flack passed the ball back, and the game was on.

---

Title: New Day Prompt: #31 - Sunrise Characters: Danny Messer

He hadn't been up to see the sunrise in a while. It had been a long night, trying to piece the case back together for the D.A. He was just taking a break, looking out the windows as the sun rose. It was gorgeous...the light came up gradually, chasing away the shadows, and bringing the city back to life.

He took another sip of his coffee and watched the new day coming. His day wasn't busy, not yet, but taking a moment out to see the sight woke him up and energized him a little more than he had been.

---

Title: Shampoo Prompt: #36 - Smell Rating: G Characters: Pre-ship Danny Messer/Lindsay Monroe

He was standing behind her again, his head near hers, and the smell of her shampoo wafted up. God, she smelled good...she always smelled good. That was how he knew she was around, by how she smelled. But he'd been left to wonder what it was exactly that she smelled like.

"What kind of shampoo do you use, Montana?"

"Why?"

"Just wondering."

"Um...Garnier Fructis." She shrugged. "I think it smells nice."

"Yeah." Instead, he just inched a little closer to her and took another breath. Time for him to switch shampoos...

Messer, you got it real bad for her...

---

Title: Fuzzy Outlines Prompt: #41 - Shapes Rating: G Characters: Danny Messer

He could see without his glasses on. He just...after a while, all the shapes seemed to blur and become fuzzy. Sometimes blinking a few times took care of the problem, sometimes he had to find his glasses and put them back on.

Now, with his glasses on, his eyes were making things fuzzy and indistinct shapes. This wasn't a good sign.

He took his glasses off, shut his eyes, and rubbed the bridge of his nose. It was time for someone else to take over computer duties for a while because if this kept up, he was gonna be pissed.

---

Title: King Of The Dead Prompt: #46 - King Rating: G Characters: Danny Messer & Sheldon Hawkes

"Hey, Hawkes. Tell me what it's like to be king of your domain."

Hawkes looked at him. "I'd rather be out in the field."

"What, and have us lose the best coroner we've had? No way." He laughed a bit, then saw the look on Hawkes' face. "You're serious."

"Yeah."

Danny went across from him, one dead body between them. "And give all this up?"

"I want to help people. Before they end up here."

Danny nodded. "Then give the kingdom to someone else."

"You want the job?"

"Me? Be king of the dead? You’ve inhaled too many chemicals, Doc."

#csi new york #csi ny #csi: ny #danny messer #fanfic #fanfiction #danny x lindsay #mac taylor #don flack #aiden burn #stella bonasera #lindsay monroe #sheldon hawkes

13 notes · View notes

whitherwordswither · 8 months

Text

Logs from the Starfields, III

Captain's Log #0.03:

After some heavy trading in New Atlantis, I picked up a contract from GalBank to get some con-man who defaulted in his loan to pay up. This had me heading out to Tau Ceti.

Of course, I can't just go somewhere with something else cropping up to distract me, now can I? As soon as I hit the system I picked up a distress signal. A local settler was having spacer trouble. So, naturally, I went to go see if I could help. Any day I can unload a few rounds in to a hostile spacer trash is a good day, I say.

Turns out him and three other families in the system are having a bad time of it. And on top of that they've been feuding with each other, or as it turns out, the guy who sent the signal for help had initially been kind of a colossal asshat to the others. But at least he's level headed enough now to admit his mistakes and wants everyone to legitimately survive. So not only do I have to get these grump dirtworkers to vibe together again, I got to deal with mucho spacer trash.

I set off to repair three satellites to restore communication lines between the families. Sadly, it looks like one family was already removed from the galactic equation. Each stop I made I blew some spacers out of the cosmic skies. Good riddance. The repair jobs weren't too difficult. I don't know why the spacers didn't just blow the transmitters up entirely. But I guess maybe they were gonna move in after their prey was hung up to dry? I don't know. Ain't no point in thinkin' too hard about it.

After getting all three family heads to meet up and cooperate, we made a joint run against two groups of spacer ships then almost immediately went all in for the kill and took out their base of operations aboard a derelict station. Another ton of haul this go. And the extra creds from the settlers was a nice boost.

Luckily, my initial contract is nearby in the system so I make a stop there to negotiate before heading back to New Atlantis. The target had himself holed up in a sparsely populated military outpost near a mostly abandoned mining facility of some sort. Not a whole lot of resources of note on the planet either. I manage to scan everything of worth on a short trek around the zone. Lady Luck must be on my side today. I was able to avoid a painful confrontation with the target and get him to pay what he owed without incident. Sometimes I'm amazing at my own talkin' skills. I'm glad he wasn't dumb about it. I hate to shoot someone, even if they give me a reason 'cause they got their head too far up their own ass.

As I'm leaving the planet I run in to some old friends of mine, coming to collect the bounty on my head. Jokes on them though, 'cause I've had enough excitement for one day. I ignore their comm hail and charge up my grav drive. While they're scrambling to get a target lock I'm skipping out of the system and back toward New Atlantis.

Sorry, boys. I got more creds to acquire and I don't feel like playing with ya'll right now.

Once I'm touched down at the Atlantis port I jog over and give the GalBank man his credits and get a nice little sum for myself. I might come back and take another job. Not that I enjoy helping the big bank corps or anything, but. My ship ain't gonna last forever and I'm gonna need every spare cred I can get to afford a new one. 'Cause god damn is they expensive.

I dump my haul at the local Trade Authority down in The Well, then head back topside. I run in to the scientist I helped the other day, who wouldn't you know, could use a bit more help! Heck, why not friend. I'm right here after all. And all he needs me to do is talk to an associate and get some data. Now, this associate don't like him much for whatever reason. Ain't any of my business. And as I'm talkin' to his associate friend… gosh dang. I'd really just like to punch him in the face. I almost had to to get that data. To think… he wanted me to break in to the apartment of his MAST supervisor and falsify his records so he could get a promotion. Boy. You just told me you got terrible performance reviews and you want me to make you look like a golden shiny apple? I don't think so. I had to a get a little grumpy with him, but I got the data. From the sounds of it, my scientist friend is on to something and may need my assistance again in a few days. I look forward to it! (Apparently something downright awkward is going on with this certain species of trees in New Atlantis and it could spell trouble for lotsa folks if something ain't done about it. So, of course, I'll help where I can.)

Now… I been doin' a lot of work around the New Atlantis area. I'm thinkin' I'm gonna head out and check out one of the other main hubs. See what else is out there. Atlantis is a nice enough place but. It may just be a little posh for my blood. And I'd like to, y'know, get my own place. Never owned a spot outright before and… I'm thinkin' maybe for once… I'd like to.

I'll catch ya up later.

End log.

#creative writing #queer writers #writing community #sci-fi #space #starfield

2 notes · View notes

ardent-fox · 1 year

Text

✨️ Interview Tag Game ✨️

Got tagged by the wonderful @creepkinginc and @look-i-love-u to do this interview game, thank you, my darlings! 🥰

What are some movie/tv quotes that you quote often?

"It's all happening!" Almost Famous

"Behind the rabbit?" Monty Python and the Holy Grail

Every iconic line from RuPaul's Drag Race

What is your favorite flower?

Tulips 🌷

If you were in Avatar the Last Airbender what element would you want to bend? Earth, fire, water or air?

I'm not really familiar with it, but I'm going to say water.

What was your first job?

Selling tickets for kids to ride these stuffed animals at the mall (they hop on the saddle and then the springs inside the legs make them go forward).

What is your favorite breakfast?

I rarely eat breakfast, but when I do it's usually chocolate granola with blueberries/bananas and almond milk. Or toast topped with whatever since I'm basically addicted to it, otherwise it's usually just lots of green tea 🍵

What's a meal from childhood that you love?

When I was little, my dad and grandpa would go fishing and bring back various itty bitty ones that my mom and grandma would fry up. They would be crunchy and salty and my mom would put pieces on the softest bread and interchange feeding my brother and I, those were the days.

What's your favorite joke to tell?

I love telling long, elaborate, filthy af jokes in my native language, most of them supplied to me by my dad, but I don't think they'd translate well to English.

What's your favorite animal to see at the zoo?

Otters 🦦💙 They're my favorite animal, I could watch them play for hours.

What's your go to quick meal to cook/make at home?

Fry up some eggs and add whatever I have around, I love breakfast food.

What's your go to meal to cook someone to impress them?

I'm not much of a cook and prefer to bake, so... some yummy chocolate chip muffins?

What's something you want to do better?

Manage my time.

If you're working do you like your job?

I am currently unemployed, hoping my next job will bring me my first truly affirmative answer to this question.

Do you collect anything? What?

Stationery and books. Also gonna say teapots, since I have six already 🫖

If you were trapped in a kids tv show, what show would you be okay with being trapped in?

I can't remember a single kids tv show I've ever been interested in? Except The Tribe, but my parents would be dead then, so I don't think that's a good choice.

An adults tv show?

I was just telling my husband how much I love the bar and the community in Smiley today, so I'm going to go with that one.

What kind of job did you want as a child?

Teacher, singer/songwriter or writer. Got to do the first one for a while and I've kept the others as hobbies, so not bad.

Do you follow any sports? What team do you root for?

I used to follow my local basketball team cause it's the biggest sport in my city, now I transform into a soccer fan every four years for FIFA (mostly for the social aspect of tipsy game-watching and celebrating) and then go back to being clueless about everything.

If you could be any animal what would you be and why?

My bunny. Eating and sleeping all day while others pet me and tell me how cute I am? Sign me up 🐇

If you could be any mythological creature what would you be and why?

A fairy/pixie. I'd love to be able to fly and explore every nook if I'm tiny, the aesthetic is an added bonus.

What's the most obscure thing you've had to google for a fanfic you were writing/reading?

Scaffolding and all its formations when I wrote about Mickey holding onto an overhead beam while he and Ian fucked in public 😅

What Milkovich do you identify with most?

Sandy. I feel like we have a similar energy.

Which one are you actually like the most?

I'd honestly say her again, don't think I'm like Mickey or Mandy that much and don't know the rest of them well enough to have an opinion.

What Gallagher do you identify with most?

Ian, through and through.

Which one are you actually like the most?

I'd say I'm a combo of Ian and Lip, since I experienced his pressure to go to college and I also have a tendency to be stubborn/self-destructive at times 🙃

Tagging @shinygalaxyperson, @sickness-health-all-that-shit, @vintagelacerosette, @metalheadmickey, @whatwouldmickeydo, @lalazeewrites, @shameless-notashamed, @heymrspatel, @gallawitchxx, @crossmydna, @lizelandre and anyone who sees this and would like to play! 💙✨️

#tag game #interview tag game #fandom friends #about me

10 notes · View notes

fishy-lava · 10 months

Text

Tag Game

tagged by @morathicain :]

1. Are you named after anyone? I mean I learned of my name via a book but I didnt name myself after the character specifically so kinda??

2. When was the last time you cried? in general just a couple days ago but it was because of a show I was watching. other than that the last time I cried for reasons unrelated to a piece of media was a couple weeks ago

3. Do you have kids? no and I dont want any

4. Do you use sarcasm? yes. all the time. every day. I could not count the number of times I've been called a smartass lmao

5. What sports do you play/have you played? I did figure skating as a child and I miss it dearly and I'm considering getting into boxing (not competitively just as a thing to do) but that's it

6. What's the first thing you notice about other people? honestly? the way they make me feel. I have very intense instinctual reactions to people but it's a subconscious thing and usually just manifests as The Bad Feeling when something is off about someone (not always immediate tho) if they dont set off The Bad Feeling then probably the way they look or what they're doing

7. What's your eye colour? brown

8. Scary movies or happy endings? I'm good with either but I dont like happy endings just for the sake of happy endings like they need to make sense for the story and characters otherwise it frustrates me

9. Any special talents? does the ability to almost always be looking when someone does something stupid or embarrassing count? I have a tendency to look up just as someone does something and my step mom likes to joke that I'm always watching

10. Where were you born? Oregon (U.S.)

11. What are your hobbies? i watch a lot of TV but other than that I like reading, drawing, painting, sewing, embroidery, baking, jewelry making and I've been wanting to get into metal/woodworking and sculpting and crochet and basically I just like making things also I like puzzles and word games and I collect glass bottles and bottle caps and the metal tabs off cans and knives and rocks and this is very rambly I'm gonna stop now

12. Do you have any pets? we have a dog (my step mom also has a turtle and a lizard but I tend to avoid them)

13. How tall are you? 5'4" last i checked but I'm pretty sure I stopped growing when i was like 15

14. Favourite subject in school? i kinda hated it all which was really more of just an environmental thing but regardless it made it pretty much impossible for me to actually enjoy any of it but there were a couple classes I liked like woodshop and astronomy and I hated p.e. but I enjoyed getting to work in the weight room

15. Dream job? ya know this is a question that has stumped me like my entire life because I could just never think of anything I wanted to do up until like right before I turned 19 when I got strangely attached to the idea of working in a cemetery and it just kinda stuck ever since but other than that maybe a tattoo artist

tagging: @jumpingthesefences @days-of-storm and anyone who wants :]

#tag games

2 notes · View notes

uttraashadha · 3 years

Text

SATURN&JUPITER

If in Retro, are amazing

This is Part One of series where I explain that The duo when in retrograde are ain't THAT bad. IM NOT JOKING-

⋐⋑⋐⋑⋐⋑❉⋐⋑⋐⋑⋐⋑⋐⋑⋐⋑⋐⋑❉⋐⋑⋐⋑⋐⋑⋐⋑⋐⋑

"Whatever I write down in here is part of my pure research, knowledge and observations that I have collected over the years of my practice, please take it as grain of Salt. And if it doesn't resonate. Leave it as it is <3" - Uttarashadha.

DO NOT Plagiarize my work, I'll know about it.

⋐⋑⋐⋑⋐⋑❉⋐⋑⋐⋑⋐⋑⋐⋑⋐⋑⋐⋑❉⋐⋑⋐⋑⋐⋑⋐⋑⋐⋑

-ˋˏ ༻Let's discuss Saturn Retrograde ༺ ˎˊ-

Ok here me out, Saturn retrograde is demonized at times and tbh well it doesn't click with me. Yes retrogrades are tricky, but listen. We should also consider WHAT planet we are talking about here right.

And according to me? Saturn in Retrograde is anyday better than Saturn in Direct (Saturn direct people dont come for me but you're still killing it ok?)

There are number of things why I make this statement.

Saturn is end of the day the planet of limitations, following rules and routines too, As I said in one of my previous posts how Saturn acts like a Servant, He rules karma and is significator of old age.

Now when it goes retrograde, all of these things, actually flip. (No I'm not saying Saturn suddnely is not signifying old age or karma 💀)

Saturn here, a rule follower, a servant. Doesn't wanna be that anymore. He who in direct, represents limitations, He wants to BREAK them when he is in retrograde, This position actually makes one a lowkey or even high key (Depending on the position) A clear rebellion. Saturn wants to become limitless here. He wants to do things that are not associated with Saturn in direct. He goes all crazy opposite, and tbh most of these things can be considered positive.

As he now wants to become limitless, Saturn in direct natives, who can be restricting in certain way or fashion,With Retrograde Saturn here goes out and wants to experience and learn, the seeking, eager energy is CRAZY here. And he will learn in ways that are not traditional, yeah, he loses his track of traditionality here too. He hates routines and doesn't wanna be abided by them which then makes them someone who wouldnt ever go for a 9 to 5 job, a good tip- if you see someone with Saturn in Retro just know, they arent made for 9 to 5 jobs. Even if they end up in one, it ain't gonna last long. (THERE CAN BE SOME EXCEPTIONS) but so far, I haven't seen anybody with Saturn in retro happily doing the jobs with fixed timings. Its just not for them, while saturn in direct can adjust with it if they want to. (You'll see most celebrities having Saturn in Retro) because mostly in media business, timings, routines, etc are never fixed. And people in Saturn retro can do AMAZING with such jobs , because for them even in daily "routines" they need this feel the sense of newness.

You'll tell them "we going to work 3 in the morning" and they'll be "ah what ok gonna pack bags ig"

Overall this retro kinda makes them adventurous, they lowkey need adventure in some kind or form (If these guys have Jupiter retro along with this, their " adventure" might mean ending up learning about weirdest things at 4 in the morning) .

Now coming with the old age thing and karma. This thing kinda flips too. How?

Saturn in retro makes you struggle in the first half of your life (so making you pay for your karma when you are young) and then letting lose relax as you cross your 30s.

While saturn in direct can make you struggle in later half of the life (old age). After 30s.

People with Capricorn placements even if with Saturn in retro can make one yet conservative, traditional,limiting and unconventional and experimental at the same time. It's a weird weird match. The native might even question themselves here and there "am I legit like that...I thought I was like THIS".

This can be caused, because of constant friction between Capricorn and Saturn retro. Specially if Saturn is in Aries (Lmao idk this is chaotic)

Saturn Retro in Aries legit gonna add such a fire to the already rebellion Saturn and if you have cap placements there is constant back and forth.

Oh and because it has CROSSED the limitations,, it makes you successful in life, cus no limitations right? Specially if its sitting with good placement like 10th, 11th or 3rd.

Saturn in Retro can also make one quite with ethic of being rich. (I'm talking in vedic terms) back then being rich according to sages were being "Spiritual" while pleasures and desires were seen as sign poverty. Saturn in retro kinda gives this boost of possibilty of one becoming rich in life (in sense of desires, money etc)

Saturn in retrograde thus becomes about "Self" rather than the Servant Saturn in direct who is always about "Others". Saturn in retro knows where to think about self and also about others. Here one becomes quite reflecting of their own actions because they are now paying attention to themselves too just as outside.

Now this rebellion side may take a turn and become quite toxic (as in hurting the society and always caring about going against elders to the point its actually stupid) but if your mars is well placed (if Mars in Capricorn for instance these guys will be well balanced of all. They know when to cross lines and when to live by their own rules) and if you have grounding placements of Virgo, you'll be fine too.

-But mostly saturn retro doesn't make you go act crazy etc. This is a rare instance that could take place, though personally I haven't seen anybody with this placement doing such things but let's say it's more like a add up to what could go wrong, IF.

Overall, Saturn in Retro makes you a limitless, experimental, unconventional and quite adjusting of a person. While the direct can make one quite limiting and all this saturn purely represents. Hence why I land on to saying, Saturn in retrograde is tbh? NOT BAD.

These guys are diamonds that are tbh, too excited (If placed in aries) for anything. And if saturn is Retro and in Aries seith not much capricorn present, the friction would maybe be less because there is no direct Saturn to cause restrictions here.

If this post goes well I'll soon be posting about why Jupiter is amazing deal as well if in retro in pt. 2.

I wish you health, wealth and luck, reader. ▁ ▂ ▃ ▄ ▅ ▆ █ 100 %

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・

PT. 2 , JUPITER IN RETRO!

╰┈➤ main page..

-X x X

#saturn retrograde #astrology notes #sidereal astrology #astro notes #astrology #vedic astrology #astro observations #saturn #Mars in Capricorn #Saturn in Aries #Vedic Notes #retrogrades #retrograde #uttarashadha..🌙

672 notes · View notes

beomglocks · 3 years

Text

colors ; k.th

part of the badlands series!

colors: “you’re ripped at every edge but you’re a masterpiece.”

based off halsey’s badlands album.

warnings and other: museum curator!taehyun, old money!y/n, mentions of depression and grass smoking, little bit of angst i guess??

taehyun sighed as he took down the 11th painting this week. the museum hadn't been very busy in the past couple of weeks, maybe because the weather was getting colder. one part of him figured that many people just wanted to be bundled up at home watching holiday themed movies and drinking warm drinks rather than appreciating enchanting artworks.

he couldn't fool himself though, he knew the truth. today's generation didn't care about the fine arts anymore. a shame, seeing as everything around them seemed to be inspired by it.

kang taehyun worked at his local museum. he had been offered the position by the owner one night while roaming the place. this should've been a red flag looking back. the owner seemed desperate for someone to fill in the position since the previous employee had left without notice. nonetheless, taehyun took the job and didn't regret it one bit.

open 24/7, the red haired boy was always working on the clock. not that there was much to do seeing as most of the people his age or even a bit older didn't hang around museums purely for the joy of it. actually, his only job was to exhibit the newly arrived collections, clean and dust them off, and conduct regular tours and workshops for the public. due to this and the fact that not many people even came by he would take regular breaks.

once in a while you'd see the occasional old person or art expertee roaming around the small museum. if you were lucky, you'd see the local edgy teens posing next to a piece they didn't understand just to get an aesthetic picture. taehyun would also have the unfortunate job of shooing them away or scolding them for getting just a bit too close.

recently his boss, who was the museum manager and maybe the only other person besides taehyun that worked there, had informed him that due to funds and unfortunate unforeseen events, the museum would be closing down in about a month from now. this caused taehyun to fall deep into a depression since this was his only job and he loved it here. the museum was like his second home. he found comfort in the silent images displayed throughout the building. they always told him a story and when new pieces came in he would sit and stare attentively at the new anecdote being told to him.

taehyun smiled sadly at the piece he had just taken down. it was a painting of 2 people kissing however both of their faces were covered by white cloths. this was his favorite and he didn't even have a clue as to why. probably because of the uncertainty of what the other was feeling or because of the fact that the other couldn't see each other's faces through the cloth, that would've made the kiss more exciting in his opinion.

he stepped out of the museum and into the frosty air of the outside world. it was only autumn so why was it so cold? he thought to himself. he discreetly pulled out a prerolled blunt and his white lighter from his pocket. he lit it and stuck in between his slightly chapped lips.

maybe smoking dope wasn't the healthiest thing in the world, especially for a boy so young, barely 19, but it helped taehyun get his mind off the inevitably of losing his job and being homeless for the winter. he shuttered at the thought. he would have to room with one of his friends, he sighed shaking his head. no, he didn't want to be a burden, yeonjun had helped him enough as it is.

he looked at his surroundings taking in the cold autumn afternoon. the trees had long lost their leaves and were bare. the sky was a murky gray color as if it were threatening to rain any time soon. he noticed a girl bundled up in winter clothes near the entrance of the building glance at him. he smiled at her and she jumped at the eye contact, thinking that he wouldn't catch her. taehyun chuckled as he watched her rush into the museum. "back to work," he said out loud to himself.

once the blunt had been almost gone, he smoked what was left of it and headed back into the empty museum. he was feeling light-headed, the effects of the blunt finally taking action, but taehyun was used to it so it barely affected him as much.

he made his way to the girl who was now starting to take off her jacket and scarf. taehyun tapped on the girl's shoulder to get her attention. "hi," he smiled at the girl, showing off his dazzling smile. "if you'd like, i could give you a tour of the museum." well what's left of it anyways, he thought to himself.

"oh...no thank you," said the girl. she smiled warmly at the worker. "well not to be invasive of your decision but it's sort of in my job description," taehyun replied as he rubbed the back of his neck. the girl sighed in defeat, "i guess i have no choice then."

taehyun laughed as he took her coat and scarf to hang up in the public closet, "yep, trust me. they say im not that bad of a tour guide, im quite fun to be around if i do say so myself. i promise not to bore you too much." the girl nodded, not entirely convinced. "if i do end up bored i will hold you accountable..." she took a moment to take a peek at taehyun's name tag, "kang taehyun," she joked.

as they walked through the museum the girl couldn't help but notice that it was fairly empty. "why are there almost no paintings in here?" she laughed hesitantly. "i thought this was a museum?" taehyun stopped walking, turning to her with a sad expression on his face.

"the museum is expected to close in about a month or so," he stated simply. "oh...that's terrible. may i ask why?" the girl responded. "my boss says we've run out of funds or something like that," taehyun chuckled bitterly. "people don't really give a shit about good art these days anyways."

"that's a shame..."

they continued to look through the various paintings that were still up and occasionally the girl would ask to see the ones that were taken down and left on the floor. it seemed the two were lost in each other's company as night started to approach.

"thank you for the tour of this lovely museum taehyun. it was fun but it's a shame such a nice museum like this is closing down," the girl said softly. taehyun nodded solemnly, he just wanted to get this day over with and crash at his apartment. he didn't blame the girl before him but talking to her reminded him of his harsh reality. a notification coming from the girl's bag made both of them jump as they were both lost in their thoughts.

"ah, that must be my father. he's kind of annoying when it comes to my curfew," she chuckled, digging her phone from her bag. taehyun watched her with a bored expression until his eyes reached her bag. he hadn't noticed this earlier but she had been carrying a louis vuitton bag. his eyes bulged at the expensive item that was so close to him, they got even larger when she fished out the latest iphone from it.

taehyun wasn't poor per se, he had just enough to get by since he was living paycheck to paycheck. however, he had never been in such close proximity to any luxury items. he suddenly felt weird being this close to this girl.

"what do you mean by curfew?" taehyun asks hesitantly. the girl sighs, "my father is one of south korea's richest chaebol's, maybe one of the big three at his point." she rolled her eyes as if this information was nothing. "he's super strict with me because i guess i'm just his show pony daughter whom he can show off to say he's a good father."

taehyun gulped, had he just been casually hanging out with the daughter of one of the richest men in korea? he felt sick at this. she looked up at taehyun's uneasy expression, "oh my god im sorry i just dumped that all on you! i just needed to catch a break so i came here, i didn't mean to drag you into my life story."

taehyun fixes his face, laughing nervously, "no- no its fine really. we all need a break sometimes right? im glad you got to have that time here." the girl smiled up at him, completely misreading his nervous laughter, "im glad i got to spend it here with you taehyun."

"oh before i go!" taehyun watched her pull out a checkbook from her bag and his stomach dropped. he silently watched her scribble some stuff onto the slip and tear it out, handing it to him.

"there's not too much i can take out of my account without my father flipping out but i hope this helps even just a little. whether it be in your personal life or with the museum."

taehyun eyes the check and chokes when he sees 50,000 dollars written neatly on the black line. he swears he can feel sweat going down his face like in the cartoons. "i- i cant possibly take this from you." he moves to hand the check back but the girl refuses to take it back. "taehyun, you love this museum with your entire being. i see the way to look at the paintings and the passion with which you explained them to me. i'd hate to see that taken away."

"plus, if you're gone who's gonna give me the tour when i come back?" she laughs as if this is something casual. taehyun's hands shake as he pockets the check, "i seriously cannot thank you enough...you don't know how much you just helped the museum and m-"

the girls phone dings again and she grumbles, "ugh why can't he just leave me alone. sorry but i think i really gotta go for real before he tracks my location or something crazy like that."

taehyun nods wistfully at the mention of her having to leave. he was really starting to enjoy her company.

"oh by the way," the girl giggles as she pulls her coat on hurriedly. "was that you smoking weed at the corner of the museum earlier?" the girl chuckled to herself again just remembering it. taehyun furrowed his eyebrows, "why would you say that kind of thing at out loud and at my job?!" he scolded in a playful hushed voice.

"i just thought it was funny and you also smelled of weed the entire tour, i didn't mind though so don't worry," the girl concluded. she was starting to walk away towards out the door now. "i'll walk you out," taehyun offers. "such a helpful employee. is this in the job description too?" the girl jokes, turning to him while a smile on her lips. "well, not exactly," taehyun says smoothly.

she shakes her head, "i'll see you soon taehyun." he watches her walk off into the darkness of the night when he suddenly remembers something.

"hey what's your name by the way?" he shouts after the girl. for some reason taehyun really was hopeful of seeing her again.

"y/n!" came the disembodied voice of the girl he had just met.

152 notes · View notes

justmeandmysickies · 3 years

Note

Em, I'm here to request my favourite trope, and that is the ✨stress stomach ache✨ Maybe two of your boys are out on a date, but one of them is extremely anxious about something that's been happening at work; he tries his best to not let it ruin the evening, but racing thoughts and an upset stomach eventually overwhelm him and he admits to his partner that he's not doing so well (I'm imagining sick/stressed Naoko, but please choose whoever you think it'd work for!)

Flick, you are an angel, thanks for the request. This was my first time writing this trope and I'm not really satisfied with how it turned out but I hope you can still enjoy it somehow!

For reference: Marissa is Naoko's superior/boss

Stress

characters: Sevan and Naoko warnings: implied emeto, mention of food, slight angst (I think?)

“Babe? Babe! Are you listening?”

“Hm?” Naoko questioned as he finally looked up from his hands.

“So you weren’t listening.” Sevan sighed. “What’s going on with you today?”

Naoko jumped a little at the question. He thought he’d been subtle. The couple was currently out on their first date night in forever and both men had been looking forward to this evening. Unfortunately, Naoko was not enjoying himself as much as he’d liked.

“Nothing baby, really. Work was hard, that’s all.” Naoko tried to reason, his smile not quite reaching his eyes.

Sevan raised his eyebrows at that. His boyfriend was obviously keeping something from him. He also hadn’t missed the hand Naoko protectively kept on his stomach. “Work is always hard for you, babe but you never get like this.”

“Like what?”

“You’re fidgety, distracted and you seem uncomfortable. Is it me? Did I do something wrong?” Sevan asked nervously.

“No! Baby, no. I just had a really hard day. I’m fine though, I promise.” Naoko was trying to sound reassuring, but Sevan could see right through his act. He also knew however, that his boyfriend was stubborn. Too stubborn to admit something was bothering him, so Sevan decided to drop the matter.

While Sevan went back to digging into his delicious meal, Naoko was barely picking at his. His stomach was in knots and it was starting to get really painful.

Due to Covid life at the hospital was upside down and today had been especially bad. Naoko had double as many patients to tend to and double as many shifts to cover. It was only a matter of time until a mistake was going to be made, and today might have been the day.

Nao winced as a cramp shot through his abdomen. What if he really had messed up today? What if he was going to lose his job? What was he supposed to do then? What if-

Naoko hadn’t even realized he’d spaced out again until Sevan gently nudged his arm.

“Baby, talk to me please. You look like you’re about to have a panic attack.” Sevan was getting really worried. His boyfriend was pale and sweating, his breathing was quick and shallow, and his hand was now clenching at his stomach.

“Today-“ Naoko trailed off, taking a deep breath, trying his best to collect himself. “I messed up today.”

“What do you mean you messed up?” Sevan asked, gently encouraging his boyfriend to keep talking.

“A guy came into the ER for stomach pain. He looked okay, so I told him to sit down and wait. It was full as always, so it took a while until we could get to him. He repeatedly asked me to speed things up and I was getting agitated at that because I was obviously busy as hell and he looked fine! I just figured he was being whiny. So I let him wait. Then suddenly the guy starts screaming out of nowhere. Turns out he had acute appendicitis and his appendix burst in the waiting room.” Naoko stopped talking, once again closing his eyes, and taking a deep breath.

“Okay and how is the guy now?” Sevan asked, not quite understanding the problem.

“He is fine. He’ll be discharged in a couple of days.”

“Alright but then what are you so worked up about?” Sevan wondered aloud.

Naoko’s eyes widened at the question. “What am I worked up about? The guy’s appendix burst because of me! I’m supposed to see stuff like that coming! It’s my job to evaluate the severity of a patient’s condition and to make sure they get the help they need! And today I failed! The guy could sue the hospital for that! I could lose my job and-“

“Okay baby, breathe. It’ll be okay. You didn’t do anything wrong. And I’m sure Marissa agrees with me on that. You’re a good and competent nurse. Very, very overworked but nonetheless competent.”

“Marissa said the same thing.” Nao mumbled. Taking a couple of deep breaths, he finally started to calm down after his little rant. Apparently getting this off his chest was much more helpful than he had anticipated.

“She also told me to stop worrying.” Now that he was calming down all his focus shifted to his stomach. It was hurting so much he was getting nauseous and the steak in front of him made an offending sight.

“Then what the hell are you still worried about? Jesus Christ, I thought you killed someone or something like that.” Sevan laughed, gently rubbing up and down Naoko’s shoulder.

Nao joined the laughter, suddenly feeling ridiculous about his outbreak. He didn’t know either what was bothering him so much. Maybe he really was simply overworked.

Then another wave of pain made it’s way through his stomach, so intense Naoko doubled over, panting slightly.

Sevan stopped laughing immediately. “Does it hurt bad?” He asked, noting the obvious pain his boyfriend was in. Naoko has always been prone to stress-induced stomach aches, but they rarely got this bad.

Nao nodded, straightening up slightly. “Yeah, it’s kinda bad. Guess I got myself pretty worked up.” He chuckled dryly.

Sevan bit his lip. “Do you feel like you’re gonna throw up?”

Naoko didn’t really want to think about that right now but the both of them knew there was a very real chance of exactly that happening.

“Maybe, I’m not quite sure.” He stopped, considering the way he was feeling at the moment. “I do feel pretty sick.”

“Alright.” Sevan stated, rubbing his hands together. “We’re leaving.”

“No! No, I’ll be fine! We are supposed to be enjoying tonight!”

“Baby, I won’t be enjoying myself knowing you are anxious and in pain. And judging by everything that happened tonight you desperately need some sleep. Let’s go home, I’ll rub your stomach for you and hopefully put you to sleep.” Sevan said, already getting up to leave.

“That actually sounds kind of nice.” Naoko sighed a little. He’d tried to keep up a façade all evening to make sure Sevan had a great night but going to bed honestly sounded like heaven right now.

And that is how they found themselves in their car on their way home.

“I’m sorry for ruining date night. It’s gonna be a while until we’ll be able to do this again.”

Sevan looked over at his boyfriend, who fortunately seemed to be doing slightly better already. He still had a careful hand on his stomach, but he luckily had some color back to his face.

“It’s alright, I just want you to feel better. You’ve been working way too much lately so a relaxing night at home is probably good for you. Besides, every night I spent with you is date night. I don’t need fancy restaurants and expensive food to enjoy your company.”

“Aw, that was the sweetest thing you ever said to me. Turns out you do love me after all.” Naoko joked, earning himself a half-hearted slap on the shoulder.

Yes, his boyfriend really did love him.

#em writes #request #sevan #naoko #my ocs #stomach ache #emeto mention #tw food

23 notes · View notes

mybrothershands · 3 years

Text

MBH/Dumpling 2

second installment, same art because otherwise you'll be waiting on it all day tomorrow. Characters by myself and @diddlesanddoodles and editing by @thundering-susurrus

The giant pinched up his face as if he smelled something bad. He then prodded the lump in his chest-pocket. "Get up, you lazy fool."

Several emotions crossed Yale face all at once, from anger to confusion to relief. Now that he knew where to look, Yale could see a distinctive lump in the man’s front pocket and heard the smaller voice emanating from within. Well, if he had a human companion of his own, that was a welcome relief. But he still kept his hand on Nenani. Grinning, he jerked his head to indicate the lump on Ka's shirt. “Ah, well I suppose that answers that. He yer assistant then?”

"Parasite, more like," he said, fishing around in his pocket until he caught the man by the shirt and pulled his shoulders over the lip of the pocket.

"Why you little two-ton son of a hog-bellied cob, I ought to--" The human smacked the hand away.

A nervous laugh escaped the giant, and he clasped his hand over the smaller man's mouth. "Er, this is my brother. He took care of me when I was small," said Ka.

Yale had been watching Ka fish around in his pocket and smirked at the human’s grouchy reply. The human’s snark immediately reminded him of Farris, but upon hearing Ka call him his brother, Yale gave pause. His curiosity was piqued.

“Wha –? Really? Can’t say I’ve ever heard ‘a that. That must be one hell of a story,” he said and jerked his head towards Ka. “Ye must’ve had a time of it keepin’ ‘im fed and clothed proper.”

The giant paused, then seemed to draw back within himself and looked away. Cairo, however, had no such loss for words. "Got that right. Ungrateful, too. You should see the spot in my side where he--" The massive hand clamped over his mouth again.

"I, erm," Ka cleared his throat, worry painted on his face. "I was old enough to work when he took me in. I cleared land for a human farmer in exchange for food. Cairo paid for my clothes and gave me a place to stay."

Polly then decided to use his leg as a scratching post and began rubbing her face up and down the side of his pants, leaning into him. "Woah, hey!" Ka said as he was knocked off balance. Once he found his feet, he pulled her bridle back over her ear and straightened her forelock. "But yes, I'm," he waved his hand in a circle, "I can work with humans just fine. They just need to let me know they're there and keep away from my feet."

“Ah, well no worries there,” Yale said with a light laugh as he pulled his apron aside to reveal Nenani at his hip. “You know better than to be underfoot, ain’t that right Dumplin’?”

Nenani nodded while she observed the new giant and silently marveled at his height. Despite the way in which he towered over them, he had a kind face, and she was not afraid.

“Farris doesn’t like it if I’m on the floor,” she explained. “He doesn’t trust the footmen to keep a look out.”

Ka's expression softened. She was a little thing, even for her kind, with auburn hair that shone in the sunlight. Somehow she met his gaze without fear, and it gave him pause. "H-hello there," he said quietly. "I am Ka. It's nice to meet you, miss."

It took the giant a moment to realize that the young man must have been hiding her, and why he had questioned him so. Come to think of it, he had not seen a single small person, nor chest pocket since he had entered this town. Pieces began to fall into place, and he decided he should not stay here for long. Not with Cairo. Absently, his hand found its way to his pocket.

“Hi. I’m Nenani,” she replied back, trying to look friendly. He looked so nervous, she thought. Yale easily scooped her up and sat her on his leg. After getting comfortable, she gestured up at the cook and said, “And he didn’t say so, but this is Yale.”

Looking confused, Yale looked down at her. “I didn’t introduce myself at all did I?”

“Nope,” she replied. “That was very rude. Lolly would swat you.”

“Ah, well,” he said, giving Ka and Cairo an apologetic shrug. “She wouldn’t be too pleased with me bringin’ the lil’un on this errand either. So there’s that.”

Cairo grumbled as Ka fawned over this little girl. She seemed unafraid and even kind towards his brother, which he respected. Still, he regarded Yale with a critical eye. Hooking his elbow over the frayed lip of the pocket, the human raised his voice. "What kind of kitchen is this anyway, boy? It's a bit late in the day to be fetchin stuff. What are you doing out here now?"

“Best kitchen in Vhasshal,” Yale fired back with a smug grin. He pointed over his shoulder towards the castle behind them. “That being the royal kitchen.”

“But Gjerk didn’t clean the chimney and it ruined the luncheon roasts,” Nenani supplied with a frankness that made light of the true disaster. “Almost caught the whole kitchen on fire.”

Yale frowned and, blushing just a bit, agreed with a muted nod. “Aye. Well, even the best kitchen in Vhasshal can fall victim to inattentive tenderfoots. So we’re needin’ to shuffle things ‘round a bit. Headin’ to a merchant who raises and sells field rocs.”

Ka's face became a smiling mask with a blank stare. Royal kitchen? Was this boy not worried that some stranger picked off the street could poison someone Important? Even the king himself? What if something went wrong and he was blamed for it and put in prison? Even he himself was not sure he deserved such trust, and yet kept his mouth shut in hopes that there was something he did not know.

Cairo, meanwhile, looked the man up and down, and then the girl in turn. They seemed easygoing and honest, if not a bit frank. At last he nodded. "We will accept your offer."

The giant balked. "Cairo, I'm not sure--"

"Shut up," he said, waving a hand. "Your belly's been a'growling all day, and I'll have no more of it. This is an easy job, and you're gonna take it," Cairo barked.

Ka paused, a hint of frustration on his face. Still, this was Cairo. The giant seemed to let go of his worries and nodded. "Just tell me what to do," he said, fixing Yale in his gaze, "and I'll help as much as I can."

He seemed eager enough, Yale thought. And even if his kitchen skills were minimal, so long as he could hold a knife, he could find something for him to do. Ka’s human companion was clearly the more dominant of the two, which Yale found to be quite amusing. And even a bit refreshing. He was so used to humans reacting to him with fear or at the very least nervous suspicion. Not that they did not have a valid reason of course.

He decided he liked Cairo.

“Well, first we gotta go collect them rocs and scurry on back,” Yale said with a grin. “So if we just wanna follow along we’ll go get that done and we can get ye to work.” He paused as he considered Ka. “And get ye somethin’ t’eat. Farris might gripe at me fer it, but believe me. He’s gonna be thankful fer yer help. Even he don’t show it. Or say it. Or yells at ye.”

Yale flicked the reins to usher Polly forward, bringing a hand up to hold onto Nenani when she almost fell off his lap.

“Ah!”

“Oh, sorry there, Dumplin’.”

"Oh," said Ka as he backed away and let the animal slip past until he could walk beside the cab. This Farris fellow seemed a bit crotchety. "Thank you," he said above the creaking wheels. The mention of food set his mouth to watering. They had had so many good things down at the market, maybe now he could get his hands on something. "I can pay you, but I'm afraid my coin may just be trinkets to you."

From his pocket, Cairo squinted one eye, adjusting his position to better watch the small giant. "Why you call her 'dumpling,' anyhow?"

“It was a joke,” Nenani explained with a flat look. “Wasn’t a very funny one.”

“I dunno, I thought it was a pretty good one,” Yale replied with a knowing grin. He poked her belly and the girl squealed and laughed, batting at his fingers. She lost her balance and almost fell back off his lap, but Yale was quick enough to catch her and place her safely down on the bench beside him. He ruffled her hair into a bushy mess. “Anyway, I caught this one here after she’d nicked some fruit. And right in the middle of the King’s weddin’ feast too. Don’t think I’ve ever been that stressed in my life.”

“He threatened to eat me...” Nenani said with the same flat expression.

As lovely as he found the girl's laugh, Ka's smile quickly faded as the girl voiced the joke. He made a sound half way between a choke and a quack. "Hmm?"

Cairo looked more surprised at the noise his brother made than Nenani's admittance. "Oh he did, did he?" He sat up, eyeing Yale. "He looks like a pansy to me."

Yale could not help the smirk of satisfaction at seeing the way Ka reacted. But his focus drew to the man’s pocket and the human within. Leaning towards them and planting his hand on the other side of where Nenani sat, he grinned at the human man.

“Big words fer a fella who travels by pocket,” he challenged. “Why not come on outta there and I’ll show ye how much of a pansy I am.”

Nenani glared up at Yale and grabbed onto his sleeve and gave it a firm tug. “No fighting.”

Cairo merely laughed at the girl's reaction. "I ain't stupid. Think I'll stay in the pocket, eh?" He slapped Ka's chest.

The giant rolled his eyes. He kept pace with the cart fairly easily, even as the Svaldifari trotted. He cleared his throat. "Keep acting like that and I may just let him have you."

"What!" he exclaimed, clutching a hand over his heart. "He might skin me, don't you think? You brute, you should protect your poor old brother."

Ka sighed, plodding along. "You can take care of yourself just fine."

“Smart man, your brother,” Yale said to Ka. “With him taggin’ along, ye might just survive a day in Farris’s kitchen.”

There was something very comforting about watching Cairo and Ka banter. It was all too easy for Yale to be drawn back to the horrible memories of the war and the way it seemed to him at the time that the bloodletting would never cease. Yet before him was a man who openly and easily called a human his brother.

“As fer skinnin’: nah. Too much of a hassle. Much easier to just toss ye into the stew and pop the lid on.”

Beside him, Nenani rolled her eyes. She had become nearly desensitized to all staff’s banter about eating and cooking people. Cairo didn’t seem like the sort to take Yale seriously. But Ka, she observed, seemed to not care for the jokes at all.

Ka lolled his head back, exasperated, then clamped his hand back over Cairo's mouth. "Ne- Nena-nani, er..." he chewed on his tongue for a moment, still trying to decide how many syllables the girl's name had. "Nenani," he said decisively. "He... Yale. He said he found you stealing?" said the giant, desperate to change the subject.

There were a few shoves and knocks on his hand before there at last came a double-tap and Cairo's mouth was freed. However, he kept his mouth shut for once and watched the road ahead. The mare seemed to need a bit of guiding, unused to going this way, but Yale was not quite paying attention. He peered ahead. Was this the way they had come before? Where was the market?

“Oh. Yeah,” she replied as she fiddled with the hem of her skirt in slight embarrassment. “But it’s not like what Farris and they all thought at first. I’m not from the Hill Tribe, I’m from the Southlands. They were loading a bunch of carts near the docks and I tried to sneak in and grab a persimmon before anyone noticed, but the basket was really big and I just...kind of fell in. And got stuck.”

Yale stifled a snicker as he corrected Polly’s path. She whinnied at him in annoyance. “I remember all them peels, lil’un. It was certainly more than one.”

“I was in there for three days,” she said and stuck her tongue out at Yale. “What else was I gonna eat? The basket?” When Yale only shrugged at her, she continued. “I grew up being told stories about Vhasshal and I was really scared. So as soon as the caravan stopped, I tried to run.”

“Caught her tryin’ to make a run fer it,” Yale added lightly pinching her arm. “Didn’t get all that far. Like...a half a dozen yards maybe before I got ‘er.”

Ka frowned. He did not like the way that last bit sounded. He steered away as they passed another cart on the road. He wanted to ask the stories about Vhasshal, and why she had been so frightened, but the girl had not seemed a bit embarrassed about that point in her past. Come to think of it, maybe he did not want to know. "Persimmons... have peels?"

The edge of the village was approaching, and Yale could hear the sound of the rocs long before their pens came into view. Their destination was a handsome little cottage just at the end of the tight clusters of row homes. Though was an older building and had but a thatched roof, it was well maintained and clean. Behind it were the roc pens. There were a dozen or so of the birds loose in the larger space, and Yale felt relieved. He was only going to need ten for the luncheon service, and he’d be able to get a few extra just in case anything else went horribly wrong today.

“Well, I think they’re actually husks,” she was saying. “They’re from overseas somewhere. But you’re not supposed to eat the outsides because it’ll make you sick.”

“Ye did get sick though. Just not from eatin’ fruit,” Yale pointed out. His eyes trailed after the other cart as they passed, having seen the way they had been gawking at Ka. Poor guy must get that a lot.

“Yeah, I had the red reap,” Nenani said. “It was terrible. But Farris took care of me and gave me medicine and watched me all night while I had the fever.”

Ka blinked, trying to make sense of this new information. He had no idea what red reap was, but then again, he was not familiar with most diseases. "It sounds terrible," he said, worry on his brow. The way she had explained it, it sounded deadly. He could not imagine having to care for someone through the night, not knowing if the little thing would make it.

Though he had not yet met the man, Ka found himself reconsidering this Farris guy. If he was the type to yell at someone new, it seemed a bit backwards that he would worry over a thief. He shook the thought away. He had not met him yet. Maybe he would understand later.

It was then he heard some bird-like squabbling, and looked up to find a pen with some frighteningly large feathery beasts. "What... are those?" He felt a bit stupid for asking, but then again, nothing was familiar to him here. Nothing at all.

"What, you never seen a chicken before?" Cairo butted in.

“Oh them ain’t no chickens,” Yale answered, giving Cairo an amused sideways glance. “Those are common field rocs. Those beauties eat chickens fer breakfast. Literally. They’re birds of prey. And they’re what we’re here fer.”

Yale maneuvered the cart towards the pens and when they were close enough, he pulled the reins lightly and Polly came to a gentle halt. She turned to her head back at Yale, expectation in her eyes. With a chuckle, he reached into his apron pocket and pulled out a pressed oat cake. Turning to Ka, he held out the treat. “Wanna give Polly her reward while I go spend the king's money?”

A grin spread across Ka’s face, and he chuckled. "Seems she's in good hands," he said, gently taking the biscuit from him.

~~~

Twelve common field rocs were in the back of the cart, their wings tied down to their sides and hemp sacks placed over their heads to keep them docile. Nenani hung off the back of the driver’s bench, looking down at the immobilized birds. They were as large as cows, and it was a little daunting to think that there were birds that big in the world.

The trip back was fairly uneventful, except that news of Ka seemed to have made its way around the village, They seemed to be getting more stares than before, but Yale made a point of staring down whatever gawkers he noticed. But he did not have the same presence as Farris did, and mostly, the people just kept on staring.

Nenani found it to be pretty rude, and to several she stuck out her tongue.

As they approached the back gate that led to the kitchen courtyard, the guards stationed there did double takes as Ka came into view, but Yale was quick to head off any questions. “He’s here to help out for the day. If you have a problem with that, take it up with Farris.”

There was enough of a threat in those words that they were allowed to pass without any form of harassment.

“Don’t let those guards make ye nervous none, lad,” Yale said to Ka. “Most of ‘em are real decent fellas.”

Yale was still looking towards Ka as he directed Polly along the road, around the last bend, and into the courtyard. He pulled the reins and was about to say something else when felt a tug on his sleeve and he looked down at Nenani. “Hm? What’s it?”

Nenani merely pointed further ahead of them and Yale’s gaze followed along. A large fire pit had been lit in the middle of the yard, and the largest of their cooking pans was placed over the top, with a sizable pile of pumpkins next to it. Saen and Avery were in the middle of carving a few up but had made little headway.

But what had caught their eye was none of them, but the solitary figure just a short distance away. Standing with his arms akimbo and looking very displeased was Farris. His green eyes narrowed at Yale.

“Yer fuckin’ late.”

Ever since the border guards, Ka had gotten increasingly fidgety. As soon as Yale quieted down, he slowed up and walked behind the cart. The castle ahead was bigger than any he had seen, especially this close up. He ran his hand up and down his sleeve, trying to create some warmth as his breath crystallized before him. Upon hearing the voice, the giant's first impression was how gravelly and frayed it sounded, possibly from overuse. The second was that it did not sound happy.

"What's it to you?" Cairo muttered under his breath. It was more of a knee-jerk reaction, than anything, but it was enough to remind Ka to keep an eye on him. The human's left arm and legs lolled out of the pocket. He picked at his teeth as the giant walked. "Move over, Ka, I want to get a look at this meathead."

Ka merely shook his head, hand straying up to cover the man. "Be careful here. We don't know for sure if it's safe yet." There came a grumbling and a shove at the fingers, but for the most part he kept his mouth shut.

Before Yale could even begin to explain himself, Farris caught sight of Ka, and the kitchen master’s eyes widened as his gaze traveled up and up and up until he met the taller giant’s eye. “And just who in the Seven Hells are ye?”

Before Ka could answer, though, Yale jumped in. “Came across him on the way to get the rocs. He was lookin’ fer some work, and I offered to let him help us today.”

All through Yale’s explanations, Farris sized Ka up with a critical eye, pausing at the distinct bulge in the tall man’s pocket. His eyes narrowed suspiciously before turning their vitriol onto his assistant.

“Oh ye did, did ye?” he demanded. “Are ye fuckin’ daft boy?”

Yale hopped down off the cart. “We need the extra help, and as mad as ye are, ye can’t deny the big fella could be of some help. Hell, he’d make short work breakin’ down the pumpkins.” Yale leaned around Farris to yell past him towards his fellow cooks. “A whole lot faster than them two knobheads!”

Saen and Avery looked up from their work to glare back at Yale. Avery waved his knife in the air, calling back, “Go fuck yerself, Yale.”

Yale was still grinning when Farris drew his attention back with a growl. “And ye think I’d let just anyone off the street come in and cook in my kitchen, do ye?”

Yale glanced over his shoulder at Ka and then back to Farris. With a shrug, he said, “Honestly boss, I don’t think he’d fit. Be a bit tight.”

Farris’s ever-present glare faltered as an amused smirk crossed his lips. With a grunt he looked back at Ka. “Ye have any experience in a kitchen there, son?”

The giant clutched his fists against his chest, shoulders hunched and brow scrunched with worry. Though the man was half his height, he scared Ka. He looked like someone who knew how to fight and just might if aggravated.

"Y-yessir, just a bit, sir." Ka stuttered, coming out from behind the wagon. "Look, I promise I mean no harm, sir. I just, well I- I- I was looking for some work is all. He was nice enough to give me a chance. I promise I'll do my best if you'll only let me help."

Farris was silent for several moments, eyeing Ka once more. “Where ye from?”

The giant straightened up a bit, a slight hope welling in his chest. "Benhyke, sir. I'm... trying to find my way back there, actually."

“Never heard of it. So ye mean to tell me yer as tall as a fuckin’ house with no proper sense of direction?” The kitchen master didn’t give Ka a chance to answer before walking over to the cart where Nenani sat. He laid his arm across the drivers bench and looked at the girl. “What say ye Dumplin’? Think he’s some sort of secret assassin tryin’ to worm his way into the castle?”

Nenani blinked and shook her head. “No.”

“Well, if yer so sure,” he said with a small smile and scooped her up. Tucking her into the crook of his arm, he turned back to Ka. The warmth he had spoken to Nenani with was gone and the harsher tone returned. “Ye got a name?”

He scratched his head, still harboring the initial insult in his mind, and had not quite heard him speak to the girl. "What? O-oh I am Ka. And this is--" he paused. At first caution took over, but once he saw the way he cared for Nenani, the fear melted. "--Cairo," he finished.

Upon hearing his name, a single hand came out of the pocket and gave a dramatic wave. "Evening to you, you motherless goat," he called, then the hand disappeared again.

Farris’s expression darkened and, behind him, Yale was making a frantic motion with his hands at Ka that translated roughly to “Bad idea. Stop.”

“I’ll give ye fair warning now, boy,” Farris warned as he walked towards Ka. Pressing further into his space, he stared up at the taller giant and pointed towards his pocket. “Keep that one’s mouth under control or I’ll be doin’ it fer ‘im. I’ve had plenty of humans toss out insults at me and, one way or another, they learn not to. If ye wanna work, I’ve got work fer ye. And you’ll be paid fair wages fer it. But if that one skulking in yer pocket don’t watch it, he’s gonna become intimately acquainted with the inside of a roasting pan.”

Ka's face paled and he backed away, clutching one hand to his pocket. "No! No, please, he's my brother. Y-you can't--I won't..." He seemed to get ahold of himself then, squared his shoulders. "Take that back," he said, regaining his ground. If it were not for the girl in his arms, Ka was not sure what he might have done.

Farris did not back away, and his only movement was to use his free hand to cover Nenani as though to shield her. He met Ka’s eyes with a firm unwavering stare. “I don’t take it back. This is my kitchen and my word is law.” Farris let a small smirk come to his lips. “Just keep in mind though, I didn’t say nothing about actually cookin’ ‘im.”

The giant blinked, relaxing a bit. "What?"

At this point, Cairo heaved a dramatic sigh and pulled himself up. He looked the man up and down and came to a conclusion. "Ugly lump."

Nenani poked her head out from behind Farris’s hand. “No fighting.”

At Nenani's word, Ka took a step back. There was still anger in his blood, and he elected to stay on his toes, but any hostility was snuffed out by the girl's voice.

Farris only adjusted his hand to ruffle her hair. “Well ye ain’t no Blue Thorn Beauty yerself,” Farris shot back at Cairo, then raised an eyebrow at him. “Ain’t ye a bit old fer being carried ‘round like a babe?”

Cairo raised a brow, then patted the chest behind him. "This one here's the baby when it comes down to it, little man. Now--" He cut himself off as if he had heard something. "Alright already," he grumbled at apparently nothing. "What do I have to do to get your sorry bag of bones to do something decent, eh? This boy's half starved."

"Cairo..." Ka hissed through his teeth. "I haven't done the work yet."

Farris huffed and rolled his eyes. “Yale,” he called without taking his eyes from the pair. “Go grab this one one ‘a the leftover meat pies.” He paused, reconsidering the man and his height. “Make that two.”

“Will do, boss,” Yale replied, flashing Ka a wide grin before running off towards the stairway that led into the kitchen proper.

“I don’t run a charity here,” Farris told him sternly. “But if yer gonna be any use to me at all today, it wont be with an empty belly. Ye’ll eat and then ye’ll work. Understand?”

"No," Cairo said blatantly before Ka had a chance.

#crossover with doobdles

35 notes · View notes

yunho-es · 3 years

Text

Member/s: Wooyoung (ATEEZ)

Genre: soft

Warnings: swear words

Words: 2043

Before reading, I want you to know that I don't use any names or Y/n's because I know many people don't really insert their names, they read it as Yin 😂 I also write in first person pov because I think it's easier to read and imagine yourself in that situation

Beads of sweat slowly rolled down my forehead as I pulled out a piece of paper from my sleeve. I knew that the exam would be hard, but I wasn't expecting it to be this detailed. Thank God my friend made me write it all on a small piece of paper. At least I will get a positive grade. Of course he made me do it, he passed the school with those. Thankfully, he didn't go to medicine school. If I ever ended up on his surgery table, I would die.

Three more minutes until the end and one more question unanswered. The teacher noticed me shifting in my seat, but she knew I always get good grades. She finally stopped looking at me and gave her attention to a group of boys trying to switch their papers. I glanced one more time at the piece of paper and put it back in my sleeve. Just as I finished the answer, the bell rang. Half of the class groaned, probably because they didn't manage to finish in time. I took my backpack and left the paper with my name on the main table.

"Good job! Honestly, your exams are always my favorite to grade. I'm really happy to have a student like you."

"Thank you, Mrs Johnson. See you on Monday."

Once I got outside I noticed the sky already getting dark. It was just 5 pm and winter was already doing it's job; the roads were wet and slippery from mixed rain and snow and it must've been under 0 Celsius. Usually I walk home because it's not far away, but my school uniform, rain and cold weather didn't go well together. I was just about to call my roommate when I felt car lights on me, followed by a familiar voice.

"I think quicker than you do." Wooyoung smiled as he opened the door. "Get in please I don't want to spend the next week taking care of an annoyingly picky roommate. I have plans to get drunk and do something stupid."

"You do stupid things anyway without drinking. So save the money and the time. And oh, save me from embarrassment." I get in the car sticking my tongue out at him. "Did you cook anything? I'm starving."

"No, of course. I slept the whole day." I look at him, hoping to see a smile on his face that would give me a sign that he's joking. "Don't look at me like that, I was tired from the night shift. I'll take you to McDonald's." he drove out of the school parking.

"I don't want trash, Wooyoung. I want food." I groaned. He told me that he would try cooking something, but it's been a week and he didn't do anything. "Please buy some pasta and tomato sauce I'll make something."

"Honestly, I really don't feel like waiting. And McDonald's is f**king awesome!" his hand reached out to turn on the radio. "How can you not love the little purple box full of 12 golden beauties?"

It did sound good, but we haven't eaten any "real" food for a month and my stomach started to ache. Living with Wooyoung has its bad and good sides, the bad sides mainly being his laziness and stubbornness. Speaking of stubbornness, of course he took the left turn towards McDonald's.

"What do you want?"

"What a polite way to ask me. You've loosened up I see." I frown at him. He rolls his eyes dramatically and turns towards me with his whole body.

"Your Highness, what do you wish to consume today?"

"That's just too much."

"What the h*ll do you want? I'm taking 3 burgers and fries and you aren't touching them." the brown haired boy points his finger towards my face. I squint my eyes at him, then bite his finger. "Crazy woman."

"Hello, may I take your order?"

"Hello, yes. I'd like a..."

***

"Is this place good enough for the Queen?" Wooyoung spoke with his mouth full of fries and ketchup. We sat on the roof of his car on a parking lot near a river. The place is good enough for the Queen.

"Eat before you speak, what's wrong with you?" I laugh at him, seeing that he spilled the ketchup on his t-shirt. "No girl will want you like this."

"To be honest I'm not interested right now." he replied immediately.

I'd lie if I said that my heart didn't sink a bit. Whoever said that boys and girls can't be friends was right. One side always catches feelings, big or small. In my case, I believe it's a small crush. He's the only boy I hang out with, so that must be why.

"Why?" I allow myself to ask.

"I had a little crush on a girl but I had to give it up." he kept stuffing his mouth with food, trying to avoid the conversation.

"And...?" I look at him expecting more. But he keeps his mouth shut and folds the paper of the burgers in his hands.

"Are you thirsty?" Wooyoung offers a can of soda, still looking at his fingers.

"Yes, thank you." he opens the can for me, first taking a sip himself, then giving the green beverage to me. I drink the whole can almost immediately.

"You could've said earlier that you were thirsty, I had water in the car." his tone visibly changed. He sounded more serious now, as if he just wanted to go home and lock himself in the room. "Want another one?" he reaches for another can.

"I think I have one more sip here." I throw my head back trying to drink every single drop of the refreshing juice. I slowly started to lean back, forgetting that I'm not in the chair but on the roof of the car. "Sh*t!" I curse as I almost fall on the rocky floor.

"Hey!" Wooyoung quickly reacts and grabs my hands, pulling me towards him. All the empty cans rolled down on the floor, making loud noises. "You good?" he asks, eyes on my face.

His hands felt so warm around mine. I really didn't want to let go. "I'm good." I pull away, trying to get down to collect the cans.

"Leave the d*mn cans there. You almost fell down. Do you see those rocks down there? What if you hit your head? What would I do?"

"I'd pay to get your car cleaned from my blood, Wooyoung." I laugh, but when I notice that his face didn't change, my smile drops. "What's wrong? Why isn't it funny when I say something like this?"

"Behind all these jokes you have to understand that you are very important to me and I have a soft spot for you. If anything happened to you my life would stop. I'm a serious man behind all my sarcastic jokes. Please watch yourself, because I can't do it all the time. It takes a second to turn a peaceful situation into a disaster."

I stare at him with my mouth a little open. I'm surprised at his words, I never heard him talk like this. I manage to say a sorry, turning my head away from him.

After a few seconds of silence, which seemed like hours, he got down and picked up all the cans, then offered me his hand. "Be careful." I put my hand in his, slowly getting down on the floor. "What dumbass even puts these rocks on the parking lot?" he picks up a few of them and pushes them away, leaving the bigger and heavier ones where they were.

"I think because they don't want someone else to have the spot." I watch as he tries to move a few more rocks. "Leave it, you're gonna hurt yourself. Let's just go back home, please?"

"Alright." he leaves the rocks and opens the door for me. Then he proceeds to enter the car himself. "But just for the record, I could've moved those rocks." his lips curved in a small smile. He can't help himself.

***

It suddenly became quiet in the house. Wooyoung layed on the sofa, watching the TV, and I sat on the floor behind the coffee table with my back leaning on the sofa.

"I'm a bit disappointed that we didn't take any photos." I pouted, scrolling down my Instagram feed. He didn't respond. I kept quiet for a few more minutes, then broke the silence again. "Do you think you could pick me up tomorrow from school again?" again, no answer.

I turn around towards him and see that his eyes are closed. He fell asleep while watching the TV. I took a blanket from my room and layed next to him under it. It's not my first time napping with him, but most of the time he refuses. He says that he is a kicker in his sleep and that he doesn't want to hurt me.

The sofa in our living room is quite small so I have to basically lay on Wooyoung. Just as I close my eyes, I feel his hand around my waist, bringing me even closer to him. Now my head was on his chest and I was surrounded by his scent and warmth. This must be what heaven feels like. Usually when we sleep like this together, it takes us a few hours to fall asleep. Mainly because he can't stop making jokes and I can't stop laughing. But this is different. It's calm. It's beautiful.

I couldn't tell if he was asleep or just pretending. He held me close and rubbed my back slowly. "Wooyoung?" I tried calling.

"Hm?" he responds sleepily.

"Are you okay?" I look up at him. His eye are still closed, but his fingers are still drawing tiny patterns on my waist and back.

"Mhm." again, I receive a short answer. When I try to move and give him some space so he can sleep peacefully, he opens his eyes to look at me. "Please don't move. I want to sleep like this." one of his hands moved my hair from both of our faces. "Please?" he asked, almost whispering.

I have never witnessed this side of Wooyoung. His voice was different, his movements were different, his eyes were different. This is the Wooyoung I wanted for myself, but couldn't have him. It took me a few longer seconds to realise that we are staring at each other, doing nothing but breathing quietly. Once his hot breath fell on my lips I couldn't help but close my eyes and sigh. Right now, I hoped for one thing to happen.

"Why can't I have you like this every day?" his soft voice whispered. I try to speak, but as soon as I move my lips, I feel something soft brushing against them. My breath stops and I force myself to open my eyes. He's looking down at my lips as if thinking if the next step is smart to do. I allow myself a moment of bravery and I put my hands on his chest, getting closer to him. "F**k it." he mutters, finally putting his hands on my cheeks and pressing his lips against mine.

His lips must've been the softest thing to exist on this planet. I tried to move, but my body was frozen. I couldn't do anything, just lay and enjoy the softness and the warmth of his lips. He pulled away for a second, trying to say something, but when he didn't succeed, he went back to the older position. Then, again, he pulls away.

"You are so sweet. You taste like I always imagined." the red cheeked boy whispers, brushing the tip of his nose against mine.

"More, please." I manage to say. My lips and throat are dry, my mind is going crazy, and my stomach is witnessing fireworks. Wooyoung smiles, still not letting go of my cheeks. "Please." I get impatient.

He leans in again, this time kissing me with more passion. It stopped being sweet and soft, now only one word existed in my mind: more. And he happily listened.

#ateez #wooyoung #mingi #hongjoong #san #atiny #kpop #kpop oneshots #ateez oneshot #ateez scenarios #jongho #yunho #seonghwa #yeosang #kpop fanfic #kpop requests #ateez imagines #ateez wooyoung #ateez fluff

47 notes · View notes

flowerbloom-arts · 3 years

Text

A 2434 word long fic about Fuddler talking to a maybe not actually real version of his father after trying to escape from a recent event in his life and failing. Now I would've written a 50s sitcom episode of Fuddler's family that would've lead up to this point if I had the motivation, but I didn't, so here you go. I hope you enjoy this!

---

The set of the show had become undone and the fourth wall was nothing but a non-existent window into the stage, the Muddler, tear stained and tired of his child's shenanigans, went up from the table he was crying at and walked to the empty director's chair with 'The Fuddler' embroidered on the back and sat on it. The Muddler grabbed the megaphone that sat on one of the armrests and spoke into it in a very clearly annoyed tone of voice: 'Cut. Take 2. Excuse me! That wasn't a bad first take but all of you really fell apart at scene 15.'

But the rest of the cast had been frozen in place, basically mannequins, all except Fuddler, who was in fact the mastermind behind this mess. The small and fuddly creature looked around in a slight bit of confusion and decided to walk up to his father on his director's chair, it did have his name on it afterall. 'Excuse me, aren't I supposed to be sitting there?' he asked rather sheepishly, there was a thought in the back of his head that knows exactly why but he's too afraid to make that thought even slightly tangible.

'Well, yes,' answered the Muddler matter-of-factly 'but due to poor management someone else had to take over.' he added, he spun the megaphone around and inspecting it in a rather disinterested manner. If it's anyone, it really didn't seem to be the father that Fuddler knew, even if he was stained with dark brown tears on his face and wore ragged feminine attire indicative of a mental breakdown, which was a sight that would only be familiar as the Muddler.

'Maybe. Though we should probably take a break, that breakdown didn't look all that... The breakdown seemed very exhausting to act out,' Said the Fuddler, trying to avoid going over this episode another time.

'Sure,' Muddler said, he didn't even care to glance at his child, he put down the megaphone on the floor and rested his face on his paw resting on the armrest, looking off to the black void beyond the set or nearby part of the studio.

Fuddler sighed with relief and a tinge of discomfort, he decided it was best to sit down next to his father and look back at the scene that was frozen in time. It was not even the slightest bit amusing to say the least, it's just everyone looking concerned over Muddler having a breakdown but Muddler isn't even there, you could see the Fuzzy, Fuddler's mother, placing a hand on what was Muddler's back, great uncle Hodgkins and Sniff are looking on confused and concerned, and Moomintroll had just walked in with not even the slightest idea of what's going on. The Fuddler stared at it for a few moments before saying what was on his mind while the scene was happening 'That... That breakdown... It wasn't in the script.'

'What script?' Muddler asked as if Fuddler was too dumb to even remember he didn't even make one. Of course there wasn't any script to speak of.

'I- I dunno!' Fuddler blurted out with the realization 'You guys were basically reading my mind anyway! I thought that was something like reading a script-!'

'Were we reading your mind or were you controlling us?' Muddler asked, almost cutting him off.

Fuddler was a bit surprised at the sudden interruption, it's really unlike his father to act anything close to this, is this even his father? Fuddler started to actually question everything about this, as if it wasn't a very obvious thing he should've questioned at the start. He looked down and curled up into a more fetus-like sitting position, kind of avoiding answering the question.

'Now tell me, child, why this?' Muddler gestures vaguely toward the set.

'What do you mean?' Fuddler looked up at Muddler and asked innocently.

'Why the television show?' he clarified, he lowered his resting paw and finally looked at Fuddler for once, though he did look very... unpleasant.

Fuddler felt very uncomfortable at the question and simply answered with an 'I dunno...' like a small child, he certainly looked and acted like one either way despite being an adult.

Muddler sighed disappointedly and went back to staring at the set 'Is this really how you're gonna deal with what happened? What even did happen, anyway?' he asked, even he was unsure of the origins of this.

'I... I actually don't remember... Excuse me, sorry, oh dear... What was I thinking?' Fuddler asked, he was mostly asking himself that.

'That's right, what were you thinking?' Muddler repeated Fuddler with annoyance 'Did you really think you could reduce your own family into cheap tropes and live like that?'

'I wasn't trying to do that!' Fuddler cried 'I just thought...! I thought if I could live just one happy day after 10 years of nonstop misery-!'

'And you did that by retreating into some ideal version of reality the city gave you through a light box?'

'Yes!' Fuddler blurted out, he realised what he said outloud and slowly went back into a balled up position on the floor 'Just... Atleast those people on TV seemed happier... Happier than we ever could've been when we moved to the city,' Fuddler argued with a quieter but ultimately defeated tone, this wasn't how things were supposed to go in his mind.

'Is that why you wanted to move away so badly?' Muddler asked in a more sincere and worried tone of voice, much more like his regular self and what Fuddler would be used to.

'Maybe,' Fuddler answered simply 'Or I guess there were other things too...' he added.

'Oh I could definitely list them off for you,' Muddler suddenly went back to a menacing tone.

Fuddler suddenly felt a great shock to his system and did not want anything Muddler could be implying 'Please don't-'

'Well first of all,' Muddler didn't let his child finish and he didn't seem to care in the slightest 'you didn't like other creatures shoehorning you into their ideas of what you should be, you didn't like the boring concrete buildings, you hated the constant noisiness of that wretched city, you couldn't bare the constant mockery from your own peers, they kept thinking you were a twelve year old - which you never grew out of being one after all these years by the way - and kept thinking you were lying when you said you weren't, you didn't like the lack of frogs or swamps or free things to collect off the street, you were being discriminated against for being a clumsy little mut, and most of all-'

'Please stop!' Fuddler cried.

'MOST OF ALL,' Muddler repeated louder to talk over Fuddler 'You hated me. Your own father. Simply because he couldn't land a simple job and was too feminine for anyone's liking!'

'NO!' Fuddler jumped up and tried to hold onto his dad's arm, but Muddler quickly got it away from him.

'YES! You kept having the same negative comments and jokes repeated to you over and over and you thought they were making fun of you by association! You don't want anything to do with the way I am and yet you keep chugging along the same way I did!' Muddler cried 'You were happy enough to tell my dear old friend mr. Moomin that people said you took after me and leave it at that! What if he asked you even further? Would you have talked about me in a good way!?'

'STOP! PLEASE!' Fuddler was almost in tears at this.

'Oh I see how it is! Just admit it! You hate me! Why else would you shove me in as the comic relief? Why else would I break out of character if you didn't know it'd be completely out of line for who I actually am!? I am anything BUT happy and you know this! No matter how hard you try I will cry eventually because I'm that dumb and sensitive about everything! The only things that you got right about me is that I'm clumsy and that I love you!' Muddler started tearing up through all the yelling 'You know deep down I love you... It's not your fault... right?'

Fuddler wanted to cover his face in his saucepan but unfortunately he was in his sitcom costume which lacked it completely, all he could really do was bury his face in his paws and try not to cry, muddler tears are much like that of a dog's, mixed in with blood waste and it stains your face, you'd need some cloth and water to clean it. Very inconvenient for a man, they aren't supposed to cry, and the stains make it very obvious you did.

'Fuddler... Did you really think this was going to solve anything?' Muddler got up from the director's chair to kneel down and lowered Fuddler's paws away from his face, Muddler's face was... trying to be comforting but that got ruined by the tear stains, which was being added onto by him crying at this very moment, he looked down at Fuddler's paws, looked back up at his face and added '... At all?'

Fuddler didn't make an attempt to make eye contact with his father, those strange 'u' shaped pupils were familiar but the idea of them not being normal at all still brought him some form of discomfort '... I just... Excuse me. I just thought that maybe... If I could feel better, somehow, maybe the problem would be less of a problem...'

'Fuddler, you don't even remember what the problem was,' Muddler said, he held his child's chin up to make him look at him directly 'You know this.'

'I know...' Fuddler admitted 'I think the cause is starting to come back to me... I think... It's still a little foggy...'

Muddler sighed 'How many times have you done something like this?'

'I...' Fuddler started thinking 'I don't know... I never bothered counting.'

'So this clearly isn't the first time.'

'It definitely doesn't feel like the first time... say for the addition of a few cast members,' Fuddler added the last part as a sly attempt at humor, he was referring to Moomintroll, Jumble and Sniff.

'Of course,' Muddler said with a touch of melancholy and sat on the floor beside Fuddler, Fuddler followed suit 'Do you think this is normal?'

'Dad, I moved to Moominvalley to get away from 'normal'!'

'You moved to Moominvalley to feel normal, there's a difference. And that's an important difference to realise,' said the Muddler, the black and white studio faded into a sepia tone as it seemed to transition into a lake sort of scene, almost unnoticeably to the Fuddler.

'Why's that?' Fuddler asked.

Muddler picked up a flower that happened to be next him, well- not actually, a sort of ethereal copy of the flower formed which left the real one untouched, Muddler looked thoughtfully at the flower in his hands 'If you know the difference, then maybe you can appreciate the specific thing that makes this place feel like you feel normal.'

Fuddler stared at the flower and glanced up at his father '... You're not really my dad, are you?'

'You think that now?' Muddler questioned with an amused undertone.

Fuddler felt almost silly about it, of course this Muddler isn't real, why would he think otherwise? 'I dunno... I guess I got cought up in the all the acting that... I forgot I'm just talking to myself...'

'Does it really matter, though?' Muddler raised an eyebrow with a slight smile on his face 'Atleast you got it out of your system, you twelve year old.'

'Don't call me a twelve year old!' Fuddler cried in defense.

'Then why do you act like one?'

'How can I not act like one if I look like one?' he said, slightly furious at the subject being brought up.

'People can turn invisible if they're abused enough, maybe this is something similar?' Muddler suggested.

'Tsch, magic, sure.' Fuddler waved off dismissively.

'You stayed as the same Fuddler that you were when we lost Sniff, excuse me but you really don't think there's something connected here?' Muddler asked rather rhetorically 'You graduated college with a degree in biology and live by yourself in the coffee tin you inherited from me and yet you still chase after a woman like you have a preteen crush on her with absolutely no clue as to how to talk to a girl.'

Fuddler cringed at the memory of his attempted courtship of the Mymble and recoiled back into a ball position.

'But atleast it seems like you learned from it, just... Don't let things paint your views so easily, sir,' Muddler placed the flower on Fuddler's head.

'Don't use 'sir' on me...' Fuddler muttered quietly.

'Well, what do you want me to refer to you as? Ma'am?'

'That's even worse!' Fuddler shut down the idea almost immediately, he grabbed the flower from his head and looked at it 'Neither of them feel all that right...'

'Right,' Muddler said 'It's fine if you don't want to be referred to as either of those.'

'It's not just that... I don't really feel like a... A man. Atleast not how the world seems to think of one.'

'You're a button collector, Fuddler. Maybe you should start calling yourself that instead.'

'You can do that?' Fuddler seems to be almost bewildered but not totally against the idea.

'Fuddler, I'm a half woman who calls itself a man, anyone can be anything, especially in places like this valley. You don't have to define yourself by those standards anymore.' Muddler explained.

Fuddler stared at his father with a thoughtful expression on his face 'Like I don't have to define my family by any of those standards...' he looks back down at the flower in his paw.

'That's the spirit!' Muddler punches his child lightly on the shoulder 'And whatever the problem was... I hope you can fix it, it's not easy but... It'll be better for the long run.'

'Right...' Fuddler flicked the flower into the lake, it simply dissolves in mid-air rather than land into the water or anything 'I'm sorry about... Everything. I'm still very, very dumb.'

The Muddler laughed ever so slightly 'You'll get it in time, I promise.'

'... Maybe.' Fuddler said rather hopefully. The Muddler seemed to dissolve away like the flower did and the world faded into full color. It looks like that episode was a wrap, one might say. Now it's time to figure out why it had to be made.

#moomins #moominvalley #art #muddler #moomin muddler #the muddler #fuddler #moomin fuddler #the fuddler #fanfic #short ficlet #angst fic #I kinda realised halfway through writing this that thisbwas basically the plot of Wandavision lmao #but I don't wanna say it's plagiarising. characters escaping reality through a sitcom has been a thing for a while now #also heehoo more Hdogkins family lore; Fuddler (And Muddler by proxy) addition! yippee!#writing these is actually kinda fun tho

33 notes · View notes