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dangerousstrawberryshark · 4 years

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It was all a lie | Part 2

Possessive Father Shawn Mendes x Male Reader x Boyfriend Tom Holland.

(couldn’t come up with a good title. also why does Tom look sick in the photo I picked?)

Shawn is 32. You and Tom are 19.

Warnings: Not that many. slight yandere behavior.

Summary: your name is M/n Mendes and you are the son of Shawn Mendes. You thought he was like any other dad, but that changed when you turn 13. He began to tell you not to play with your friends and how they didn’t care about you. He began to isolate you so you could depend on him. Now you are 18, and your father’s obsession grew. But what he doesn’t know is that you have a boyfriend and his name is Tom Holland.

M/n: Male Name

L/n: Last name

Word Count: 2256

Not a Poly-relationship by the way!

Hope you enjoy! sorry if it bad! This was rushed so there is going to be a lot of grammar mistakes!

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DISCLAIMER: I MEAN NO OFFENSE, DISRESPECT, OR HARM TO ANY OF THESE CELEBRITIES! THIS IS JUST FICTION.

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MINORS DNI. FEMALE READERS… I’LL ALLOW YOU TO READ MY FICS BUT DO NOT FETISHIZE ANY OF MY STORIES

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FLASHBACK (Nine Years ago. When the reader is 10 and Shawn is 23.)

Shawn’s POV

I was walking down the path, the autumn leaves were blowing in the wind, I could hear the dogs barking, probably at a squirrel they saw, and the cheers of kids playing in the playground.

I always wanted a kid. A perfect kid, but I could never find the right girl. I was walking pasted the playground when I noticed a young boy who looked at least 10 years old. He was playing and I could see his parents watching him.

I, of course, stopped staring or I’ll alert his parents who were looking around. ‘I want him… I want him to be my kid. But how, I’m going to deal with his parents?’

‘I’ll play a good guy for now.’ I walked over and sat down on the bench where his parents were. They look like nice people and they were. “Hey, there young man.” I heard the lady say. “Hey,” I said waving and giving my iconic smile.

Time skip (30 minutes)

I and the kid’s parents have been talking for at least 30 minutes. They told me all about their kid, how he is smart, and how he is responsible. ‘I knew he would be perfect.’

Then I heard little footsteps coming our way and a little kid’s voice. “Mom, Dad!” the kid said while running over to us panting. “Yes, sweetie?” the mom looked over at her my-- well almost my son, her son.

“Can we go home--.” the kid stopped mid-sentence when he noticed me. He just stared, giving me that stank eye. I mean I don’t blame him, seeing a stranger talk to your parents, and then they have to introduce you to them. But I decided to talk.

“Hey, there kid! The name is Shawn. Shawn Mendes. Nice to meet you.” I gave my hand out. He hesitantly looked at me before shaking my hand. “My name is M/n. M/n L/n.” it looked like he didn’t want to see me.

“Ahh, yes sweetie we can go home.” the mom said while walking to her car, the dad and the kid followed. I just watched while they walked away.

Time skip (3 months)

It’s been 3 months since the last encounter we had. It has been 3 months since I’ve been plotting. And now today is the day I get to have you as my kid.

I was getting ready. The sun’s rays didn’t peak through my window. I had pictures of the family with x’s on the parent’s faces. My main goal was to have a perfect family, and getting that kid is step one in the process of it becoming reality. I went as far as buying a house for my family

After putting on my black attire, I grabbed my knife and put it in my pocket. I went downstairs to see boxes with my stuff in them, and they’ll be transported to the new house. I grabbed my car keys off the counter and made my way to my car with black tinted windows. Pulled out of the driveway and took a 2-hour drive

Time skip (2 hours)

M/n POV

I and mom and dad are having my F/D. My mom’s cooking is the best, sometimes. We were just talking about random things like how I’m doing in school, and you know how your parents say, “Soooo, has anyone caught your eye.” like Mom, I’m only 10… why?

Anyways, we were just eating until we heard a knock on the door. “I’ll go see who is at the door.'' Dad got up and walked to the door. I could hear his footsteps getting closer. I just stared and she stared as we were wondering who was at the door.

Just then we heard something hit the ground, it sounded like a body. Then we heard footsteps coming closer, I could hear my mother come up from the chair and grabbed me. In the kitchen was a man dressed in all black.

My mother quickly pulled me and we went to the master bedroom. “Sweetie, I need you to stay here. Whatever happens, you don’t come out until I tell you to. Okay?” I was already crying but I nodded. She pushed me into the closet and closed the door but she kissed me on the forehead. “I love you, sweetie.” “I love you too mommy.” tears and snot were coming out.

I looked through the little slit (is that the right word?) in the door. I could see my mother grab something out of the drawer. It looked like scissors.

Just then the door to the master bedroom busted open. “Ahhhh.” I could see mom trying to fight the man with the scissors. But it didn’t work, he stabbed her in the neck. Mother collapsed in front of the door. I could see the life in her eyes fading away.

I held my breath trying not to attract the stranger. Then I heard the fire alarm go off. I still try to hold my breath but I hear the man’s footsteps getting closer. Then the door to the closet opened. The man grabbed me, knocking me out.

FLASHBACK OVER

M/n POV

I woke, finding myself in a room that looked like my old room, but the window was boarded up with steel. I got up and went to the door trying to open it. The door was also locked from the outside. I was in complete isolation.

After an hour or two of looking at the ceiling, the door opened. Shawn walked in. I charged at him but he quickly pulled out a taser and he shocked me with it. “You shouldn’t disobey your dad like that. going into his room where he told time and time not to go in there. But what did you do? You went in there anyways. Now, look where you are now.” Shawn said just looking at me with an unreadable expression. He then pulled something out and put it around my neck.

“What the hell is this?!” I yelled, touching the metal that wrapped around my neck. “Why, it’s a collar. But not just any collar. This collar cuts your head right off if it detects that you have left the house!” your mouth dropped at this and you looked at him with disgust.

“What the hell is wrong with you?!” you yelled trying to get it off but it didn’t work. “Nothing is wrong with me. I’m just preventing you from leaving me.” he smiled like nothing was wrong, and then he just walked out. ‘Tom please come save me....’

Meanwhile with Tommy.

Tom POV.

It took an hour before I arrived. I made sure that M/n dad isn’t. Lucky his car wasn’t in the driveway.

I got out of the car, beginning to walk up the stairs. The floor creaked as I walked giving an eerie vibe. I knocked on the door but I realized it was opened. ‘Weird… why is the door unlocked?!’

I walked in calling out. “HEY! M/n I’m here!” my voice echoed as I called out. I expected him to come running down the stairs, but he didn’t. ‘He’s in his room?’

I walked upstairs to go to his room but I noticed his father’s office room door was opened. ‘Weird. Why is it opened? Didn’t he say, he wasn’t allowed to go in there?’ I decided to investigate like how white people do in the movies. (This is not meant to be racist! It's just a joke!)

I opened the door to see nothing but M/n’s phone on the ground. ‘What the-?’ when I walked to the desk, I saw pictures? It looked like M/n when he was young. Then I saw pictures of two unknown people. The more I look at it, the more these people look like M/n!

I always thought it was weird how M/n looks nothing like his father. I began to put the pieces together. These people were his real parents! I immediately called 911.

“911, what’s your emergency?” the operator said on the other line.

“Ahh, I would like to report a kidnapping. My boyfriend, he's not here!” I said panicking.

“Alright calm down. What’s your address?”

“Uhh, the address is [insert random address]”

“Okay sir, help is on the way. Stay on the line for me.”

“Okay.” I was calming down a little but my anxiety was still soaring through the roof. My only thought was is M/n alright? ‘Don’t worry M/n I’ll find you.’

Time Skip (5 months)

No one POV

It's been 5 months since you were kidnapped by your “father”. 5 months and Tom was urging the police to continue the search. But during those 5 months, you were planning how to escape.

Of course, you couldn’t escape physically cause the collar would kill you instantly. But you’ve been a “good boy” so Shawn would sometimes let you out. Only on certain days though. Today was Wednesday, the day he would let you out.

He would leave for work and you have the house to yourself. You went downstairs to see Shawn’s phone sitting on the counter. ‘He left it here?’ you smiled as now you could call Tom, but you gotta hurry before Shawn realizes that he left his phone.

You dialled Tom’s number and the phone was calling him. “Hello, this Tom. who is this?” you felt at peace as you heard his voice after 5 months of being apart.

“Tom it's me M/n!” I yelled through the phone. “M/n is this really? Oh my god! Are you alright? Where are you?” Tom said frantically as he finally heard your voice. “I’m alright Tommy. I can send you the location. Please send help.” you hung up and sent Tom your location. It turns out that you were only 5 hours away. (Plot purpose.)

You quickly went upstairs to pretend you’ve been there.

Time skip (5 hours and 58 minutes later)

You heard the door open downstairs. Then footsteps running up the stairs, Shawn busted into your room. “You’ve been a bad boy. Don’t act like I knew what you did,” he said looking into your eyes.

You began to cry fearing what was going to happen but then you heard it. Police sirens. Then arrived. “This is the police! Come out with your hands up or we will use force!” you could hear him shouting.

“Shit!” Shawn said under his breath. He went outside into the hallways and opened the window to escape. You just sat there knowing. “This is your final warning!” the door busted open with policemen coming in. They scout the whole house looking for you and Shawn.

You see a policeman come into view and he alerts the others of his finding. You smiled as you were free but the only thing that was holding you back was the collar. You see Tom walk, and he immediately hugged you crying onto your shoulder, you hugged him back.

“After 5 months, I finally found you! Come let's get you out of here.” Tom said grabbing your arm but you told him to stop. He looked at you wondering why you weren't coming with him. “Tom, I need you to get this collar off of me. If I go out… it will kill me!” Tom went down to get officers.

He came back to you after 10 minutes. “Don’t worry, they said they’ll get a tech guy to come and get it off,” he said smiling at you. He put his head against your head. Then he pulled you in for a kiss reassuring that it's going to be alright.

Time skip (7 months later)

It's been 7 months since the incident. They removed the collar after a good 2 hours. You decided you couldn’t live in the US anymore because you feared that Shawn would find you.

Tom invited you to come to live with him in Britain. You gladly accepted his offer. Your life has returned to normal.

You were far from the man that killed your parents and kidnapped you. But one day you got a call from the police. You were relieved at what they said. “Shawn Mendes has been found and he is being trialled for his crimes. But since there is a lot of evidence of his crimes, he’ll be found guilty.”

You told Tom the news and he was glad that man got what he deserved. Even though you were lied to about your life. You wouldn’t let that stop you from living happily.

THE END.

TOTAL WORD COUNT: 3362

#possessive #possessive shawn mendes #violence #kidnapping of a minor #yandere shawn mendes x male reader #father shawn mendes #shawn mendes x male reader #x male reader #boyfriend tom holland #tom holland x male reader #not a poly relationship #slight yandere #sorry if its bad

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bigboobyhalo · 3 years

Note

MIIIIIIISS suzy had a steamboat, the steamboat had a bell! miss lucy went to heaven and the steamboat went to hell-o operator! gimme number nine! and if you disconnect me, i'll kick in the - behind the fridgerator, there is a piece of glass, miss lucy sat upon it, and broke her little as-k me no more questions, tell me no more lies! the boys are in the bathroom, pulling down their - flies are in the meadow, bees are in their hives, miss lucy and her boyfriend are kissing in the D A R K D A R K D

DARK IS LIKE A MOVIE, A MOVIE'S LIKE A SHOW, A SHOW IS LIKE A TV SCREEN, AND THAT IS ALL I KNOW! I KNOW I KNOW MY MOTHER, I KNOW I KNOW MY PA, I KNOW I KNOW MY SISTER, WITH THE 40 ACRE BRA! A BROTHER'S LIKE A SISTER, A SISTER'S LIKE AN AUNT, AN AUNT IS LIKE A RELATIVE, WHO LIKES TO RAVE AND RANT! I WISH I HAD A NICKEL, I WISH I HAD A DIME, I WISH I HAD A BOYFRIEND, WHO'D KISS ME ALL THE TIME! MY MA GAVE ME A NICKEL, MY PA GAVE ME A DIME, MY SIS GAVE ME A BOYFRIEND, WHO'LL KISS ME ALL THE TIME! MY MA TOOK BACK THE NICKEL, MY PA TOOK BACK THE DIME, MY SIS TOOK BACK HER BOYFRIEND, AND GAVE ME FRANKENSTEIN! HE MADE ME WASH THE DISHES, HE MADE ME WASH THE FLOOR, HE MADE ME WASH HIS UNDERWEAR, SO I KICKED HIM OUT THE DOOR! I KICKED HIM OVER LONDON, I KICKED HIM OVER FRANCE, I KICKED HIM TO HAWAII, WHERE HE LEARNED TO HULA DANCE! MY MOTHER'S LIKE GODZILLA, MY FATHER'S LIKE KING KONG, MY SISTER IS THE STUPID ONE, WHO TAUGHT ME THIS DUMB SONG! HELLO OPERATOR, PLEASE GIVE ME NUMBER TEN, AND IF YOU DISCONNECT ME, I'LL SING THIS SONG AGAIN !!!

#ask #im crazy #this is from memory ^_^

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skrltwtch · 4 years

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Graveyard Shift

Prompt: I know the sign says, "No shoes, no shirt, no service", but I just had the WEIRDEST night and your shop is the only building with lights on this early, and I'm really, really hoping you have some spare clothes behind the counter. Help? (Source in master list)

Word count: 4,255 words

Genre: Fluff, romance, smut, supernatural

Warnings: Smut

References: 1 Inglourious Basterds

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Graveyard shift is the fucking best — and the fucking worst.

For one, the shop is able to achieve that fine balance between having enough customers to justify its opening hours and keep me on its payroll, and having enough customers to not make me regret my choice of employment while I attempt to sort out my life. The silence that falls over the shop at two o’clock — without fail every night, like the general public know they have better places to be at two o’clock than a corner shop — grants it the perfect atmosphere for self-introspection and self-improvement. Have I learnt anything useful? Let’s … not talk about that.

Now, what’s the downside to this job, you ask? The customers, of course. There are fewer of them in the dead of the night, but God, the ones that do come in … Being situated on one of London’s busiest corners means a colourful clientele at all times of the day. Drunkards and yobs make up a sizeable number of the demographic that contribute to the shop’s cash drawer while I’m on duty. It’s both sickening and fascinating to deal with them. In my nine months of working here, I’ve seen it all — or I thought I have, until my attention is drawn to the naked man at the door.

It’s less than half an hour after sunrise. He doesn’t look like he’s knocked back a drink too many. (Can coffee make me see things I’m not supposed to be seeing at this hour?) He looks to be of sound mind, his franticness to be let inside aside. He’s handsome: his brown waves, wiry physique, and elegant features lend him a startling resemblance to an ancient Greek sculpture. Strangely, there is an abundance of scars all over his body, and not in a manner that’d signal self-harm. They look more consistent with animal scratches. I’m speaking from experience here: I have a cat, though it’s nigh impossible a cat did this to him.

Nonetheless, this ranks in the lower half of the top ten weirdest shit I’ve seen while on the clock.

‘Hello? Hello!’ That ought to be what he’s saying; I don’t proclaim myself to be an expert at lip reading. It’s encouraging that he’s aware of the sign preventing his entry and doesn’t think he’s above it, at least.

I shake my head at him. Rules are rules, mate. They apply even to hot, naked men.

‘Come on! Please?’ — I think.

‘Sorry!’ I shout, and I point at the camera above me. Colin, my manager, is a cool bloke. It’s about as likely that I’d lose my job for letting Mr Naked and Afraid grace the inside of the shop with his presence and providing him with service as it is that Mr Naked and Afraid is on something that isn’t obvious to my innocent eyes. Why tempt fate? There are other corner shops with less draconian policies down the street. I turn away and continue looking at my phone to spare us both our blushes. It is nippy outside …

Fuck it.

I motion for him to come in. I can explain this to Colin, should he decide to review this morning’s security footage on a whim. He’s a Cool Bloke™.

‘Thank you,’ says Mr Naked and Afraid. Fuck, the shop lighting is doing him more favours than he needs. ‘You won’t get in any trouble for this?’

‘Nah. I might get chewed out1 for this, but that’ll be the worst of it.’

‘Sorry. But thank you. Thank you. I’m George.’

Good. Mr Naked and Afraid is becoming a mouthful.

‘I’m Eva. How can I help, George?’

‘Do you have any spare clothes?’

‘It’s just me here, mate.’

‘I know. Can’t hurt to ask.’

Can I say, ‘You have balls’? Is that appropriate at a time like this? I exhale audibly. ‘Give me a second.’ I retreat into the staffroom behind the counter. Colin deserves a better staffroom than a lad hangout. I’ll clean up when there isn’t a naked man waiting on me outside — or not. I’m not their helper. I sort through the coat rack for something suitable. Andrew is the closest to George in stature, I think. Operating on that approximation, I grab Andrew’s jacket and trousers. I don’t want to have to think too hard about what my co-workers look like underneath their clothes. Besides, Andrew’s clothes have been here for ages. He won’t miss them.

‘Try these,’ I say.

‘Thank you. I’ll clean and return them, I promise.’ He reaches over the counter for the clothes.

‘Not so fast. Give me the craziest reason you’re butt naked, and if I like it, you get the clothes.’

‘Really?’

‘I have to tell my manager something. Might as well be something weird so I don’t get chewed out too hard.’

‘Fine.’ He puts his hands on his hips and looks around the shop — in search of inspiration, perhaps. I’d love to hear what he comes up with. He looks like someone with a good sense of humour. If we’d met elsewhere, I’d have thought about asking for his number and then chickening out at the last minute, because women like me don’t get anywhere with men like him. I keep a lookout on the entrance for any customers or co-workers, mostly because I don’t want to share this moment with anyone else.

‘Clock’s ticking, George.’

‘You didn’t say there’s a time limit.’

‘I’m not the one with my arse out in public.’

‘Alright. I’m a werewolf. I must’ve messed something up, because I got out of my flat last night and woke up in Trafalgar Square. I live in Hampstead. See these scars? It’s all me.’

I stare at him. He’s staring back at me, expecting a response. He looks serious. I — I can’t. I burst out laughing. Of all the things I thought I’d hear, that isn’t one of them.

‘That’s one I haven’t heard before. I love it.’

‘Yeah? Can I then —’

‘Not before you answer one more question, wolf boy.’ I mean that nickname with utmost sincerity.

‘Seriously …?’ Red blotches his cheeks. ‘Okay, okay.’

‘Were you born a werewolf or were you bitten?’

‘How is that relevant?’

‘Humour me.’

He rakes his hair with his fingers, and holds his inhalation and blink long enough for it to mean ‘I should’ve gone to the next corner shop’. Little does he know that his exasperation is making him look more attractive. I’ll treasure this moment forever. ‘Born. You don’t see any bite marks, do you?’

‘Touché. Here.’ I pass him the clothes.

‘Thank you, thank you, thank you.’

‘No, thank you for the laugh,’ I say, looking away from him as he tries Andrew’s trousers on for size. Andrew’s fashion sense is being wasted on us corner shop plebeians. ‘I love horror and supernatural shit. That was perfect.’

‘Cool.’ For fuck’s sake, he can also pull off the loud, brash prints Andrew favours? This is unfair. ‘I’ll pop these in the washer when I get home, and I’ll return them to you …’

‘I’m working tonight. I’ll be here at ten.’ Technically, I start work at midnight. Andrew’s scheduled for the evening shift today, and I’d love to see his face when George returns with his clothes. I can’t remember how long these specific items have been in the staffroom. Plus, like, ten o’clock is an acceptable time to meet someone who lives in Hampstead and probably has standard working hours, isn’t it? ‘If that’s not too late for you.’

‘That’s fine. Thanks again, Eva.’ He’s said the T word so many times, it’s starting to sound weird to my ears. Semantic satiation — that’s what the phenomenon is called. I learnt this from the 3,722nd post I read on Reddit some nights ago.

‘You’re welcome, wolf boy. See you tonight.’

He grins. ‘See you.’

Just as he turns to leave, I swear, I swear on my copy of The Killing Joke with a frayed spine because I put it in the same bag as my water tumbler with a loose cap, I see a flash of fangs.

✦✧✦✧

‘You’re here early,’ says Andrew.

‘It’s midnight somewhere in the world.’ I don’t join him behind the counter. I’m scheduled to start work at midnight, and that is exactly what I’ll do. Overtime means nothing to me. (I say that like it’s applicable in this instance.) ‘Did a guy come in to look for me?’

‘Nope. Hey, do you know what happened to my trousers and jacket? First one’s floral; second one’s mustard.’ Doesn’t it just sound like a ghastly combination? Andrew can pull it off. So can George — both items at the same time. I’ve only seen Andrew in one or the other.

‘Funny story, that.’

‘Share.’

‘Okay, picture this: It’s fuck o’clock in the wee hours of the morning. Sun’s coming up. I’m on my second tumbler of coffee and running out of things to keep myself entertained. Suddenly, a naked bloke is asking to be let in; he’s begging. He doesn’t look drunk or high. I let him in because I’m a bleeding heart at heart. He asks me for spare clothes. Thank God you treat this place like your second closet. I ask him to hit me with the craziest reason he’s naked to help me decide if I should help him. He says he’s a werewolf.’ I am fighting to hold in my laughter. ‘And he says it with the straightest face you can imagine.’

‘Eva, this bloke was hot, wasn’t he?’

‘Yes, but —’

‘You’d have given him the clothes no matter what he said.’

‘I didn’t tell you this story for you to call me out like that.’

‘You’re welcome. Does Colin know you breached one of the shop’s sacred creeds?’

‘Does he have to know?’

‘No comment. It’s not my arse on the line.’

‘Colin won’t do me dirty like that. I did a good deed.’

‘… No comment. Am I going to get my stuff back?’

‘That’s why I’m here.’

‘Bollocks, I thought it’s because you like my company.’

‘Why not both?’

The bell above the door jangles, cutting our conversation short. It’s none other than the man of the hour himself. Never have I been this ecstatic to see someone enter the shop. He has no business filling out his grey shirt as well as he is.

‘George! Hi!’ I drown out Andrew’s snicker. Can’t I be excited about speaking with an attractive, charming man who isn’t drunk or in need of goods and services a corner shop can provide in the shop at this time of night? I might also never see him again after this, so as far as I’m concerned, I deserve every second of this.

‘Hello, Eva,’ says George. ‘Got the clothes cleaned like I said I would.’ He shows me the paper bag in his hand. McDonald’s. I can hear Andrew’s heart giving out. ‘Thank you again.’

I take the bag from him and place it on the counter, the golden arches staring Andrew in the face. ‘You’re welcome. You should thank him, too.’ I jerk my thumb at my near-apoplectic co-worker. ‘This is Andrew. The clothes are his.’

‘Thank you,’ George says to the other man, who responds with a tight-lipped nod, still in the midst of computing what he did in a past life to deserve having his clothes returned to him in a McDonald’s paper bag. ‘I followed the instructions on the labels as best I could. If I ruined something, I’d be happy to pay you back for it.’

‘Thanks, mate.’ Andrew takes the clothes out of the bag and gives them a quick once-over. ‘Looks good. You can have the bag back.’ He pushes it toward George with his finger.

‘Okay …’ George takes the bag, flattens and folds it into a neat square, and holds it under his arm. ‘Eva, I can’t — I can’t thank you enough for this morning. Last night was … weird.’ He swallowed.

‘Yeah, sure …’ I wink at him. ‘… wolf boy.’

‘Are you working now?’

‘No, but I will be in’ — I consult my watch — ‘an hour and a half’s time. I came in early because I know I don’t have the same concept of day and night as most people.’

‘Graveyard shift: fun as shit’ is Andrew’s sterling contribution to this part of the conversation. I like that, actually.

‘You didn’t have to — I’m more of a night owl,’ says George. Is that because he has a closer affinity to the night because of what he is? I convince myself it is. ‘Do you want to go get some coffee nearby? It’s the least I can do. I hope I didn’t get you in trouble.’

‘Don’t worry about it,’ I say. I should talk to Colin about this soon. ‘Sure, I’d love some coffee. Be a dear and watch the shop for me, will you, Andrew?’

✦✧✦✧

George leads me into his flat. Our bellies are full from dinner. I love and hate eating with him sometimes. I love his company, obviously; I hate that he can put away so much without any of it showing on him. Earlier, he had pork chops, lamb meatball stew, and a fudge brownie with ice cream. I get that he needs all that protein to maintain his figure, and I’d love and support him all the same if he were, but he’s not an Olympics athlete like Michael Phelps. Nonetheless, all that food’s imbued him with oodles of energy, the kind that’s seen us seek to end the night on a more gratifying note at someone’s place. (Mine’s out of the question tonight because my flatmate’s working toward the same goal with her latest squeeze.)

The farthest we make it before the urge to eat each other’s faces overpowers us is the sofa. I’m on top of him, just showering him with gentle kisses on his lips, and sometimes his cheeks and nose. I’m content with savouring his taste for now. His breathing is heavy. He’s warm to the touch. His kisses are more insistent. I yield to his desperate, almost plaintive moans and allow our tongues the pleasure of getting to know each other better. His hand is feverishly fondling my thigh and hip; the latter has developed a mind of its own, grinding up against him. Deciding our mouths couldn’t have all the fun, I move on to his neck, which he kindly bares for me. His throat is thrumming with — growls?

I look up at him and say, ‘Do you hear that?’

‘Hm?’ His eyelids flutter open. I gasp.

Staring back at me are yellow eyes, brilliant and wild.

Oh, my God.

‘George — your —’

‘Why?’ He puts his hand to his mouth. ‘Shit.’ I get off him. I see the fangs I thought I saw the first time we met. ‘What’s today’s date?’

‘It’s the eighth.’

‘Fuck!’ The force with which he cursed propels him out of his seat. ‘You have to go. I’m sorry,’ he says, taking off his shirt. His chest sheens with sweat. ‘I forgot.’

I don’t need to ask him what it is he forgot: I know the answer on a primeval level. I know I should leave. I stand transfixed by what’s happening before me. His flesh twists and ripples. The growls get louder. The proportions of the hand on his chest — hairier than I’ve ever known it to be — are all wrong. Poking — pushing out from underneath his fingernails are claws. He turns away from me. The sight of protruding knobs of bone under the skin along his spine causes chills to run down mine. My poor George. My poor wolf boy.

‘I’ll go,’ I say, as much as I want to stay with him. ‘Will you be okay?’ I shake my head. Stupid question. He’s in agony.

‘I’ll be fine.’ There is greater conviction in the violent gurgle that follows than his words. ‘Now go. Please.’ His back arches and expands with muscle. He cries out in pain.

I do as he says. I hear the locks rattle and turn behind me. Though his strained growls and yips are horrible to hear, I stick around outside his door. I don’t know why. I don’t know why I don’t quite feel afraid either of what I saw in there or of what I now know. Instead, I feel … I press my legs together and bite my lip. Not the time. After what feels like an eternity of guttural noises that have no right coming from a human throat, a howl, long, almost melodious, pierces the air. It’s almost … reassuring. So much about him makes sense now.

I take my phone from my bag, and I send him the following: ’Text me when you see this. Love you.’

✦✧✦✧

I shift on my feet as I wait for George to answer the door. I’m worried about him. Does he not want to see me anymore after last night? No, it’s an insult to the both of us for me to think that he thinks I’d be narrow-minded enough to stop wanting to be with him because of what he is. I don’t know how long I’ve been here. The food I brought for him is getting cold. Can he smell it from inside his flat? I press the doorbell again. I wish he had a neighbour to tell me what I can do in times like this.

The door opens. He looks a mess: he’s in boxers, and his hair is sticking out every which way. His eyes go wide. The memory of his yellow eyes resurfaces. I feel a little weak in my knees.

‘Good morning, love. I came to see if everything is okay,’ I say, ‘and I brought breakfast.’ I show him the paper bag. The food inside still smells good.

‘I thought —’ He doesn’t need to complete his sentence for me to know what he means. It’s written plainly in the furrow of his brow, the sadness in his eyes. Damn it. I didn’t want to be proven right about that.

‘Of course not. You didn’t see my message?’

‘I haven’t checked my messages. Sorry.’

‘Oh.’

‘Please, come in. Are you off work today?’

I nod.

His flat, too, is in disarray. It looks just as if an animal went wild in here. Pillows and books are all over the floor; some of the former have been ripped apart. Sunlight shines through the gaping holes in the curtains. Nothing’s broken, at least. George’s head hangs low. ‘I haven’t had the time to clean up … nor was I expecting visitors. I called in sick to work and went back to sleep. I forget what happens when I don’t take my meds before I transform.’

‘Let me guess — the last time that happened was a year ago?’

‘Yeah, probably. I don’t know. That was — that was different. I guess I was too excited about our date that I forgot what yesterday was.’

I walk him to the sofa, and we sit down. The food is left to sit out on the coffee table. ‘It’s okay,’ I say, stroking his arm lovingly. ‘I wasn’t … I’m not freaked out or anything. I love horror and supernatural shit after all.’ I chuckle nervously, more so because I hate my tendency to resort to awful humour in an attempt to defuse tense situations. ‘So, um … I owe you an apology for laughing at you when you first told me.’

‘Don’t. I could’ve said something else. I didn’t. I wanted the clothes fast, and after the night I’d had, that was the most out-there thing I could think of in a snap.’

‘Yeah, then I made it into a thing between us! I call you “wolf boy”! You never asked me to stop! And I told everyone how we met! Everyone knows you’re a werewolf!’ I gasp. So. Many. Exclamation. Marks.

‘This is our thing. Only you know for certain. I feel like I can breathe now.’

I lay my head on his chest. ‘You don’t have to be afraid. You don’t have to hide.’

‘That first sentence sounds like something I’m supposed to say.’

‘So, George … about last night … was that because you were about to — or …’

His words come out almost in a snarl: ‘I wanted you. I want you.’ His lips are centimetres away from my neck. His breath is hot on my skin.

‘Are we like … mates now, then?’ I giggle as I draw an indiscriminate shape on his chest with my finger. I may or may not have spent a considerable amount of time last night reading up on wolf behaviour. The thought of what lies in store for me is a little exhilarating, an observation I had a mild developmental crisis over when I felt that first pang of passion from applying what I read to our relationship.

‘Yes.’

He licks my neck. My core tingles with excitement at the ramifications of his declaration — for the record, I meant it as a light-hearted question — and at what’s about to come next, based on my research. Then he pushes me down onto my back, and I see his eyes, still blue, flicker with the same intensity as last night. He hikes up my dress and gets straight to nuzzling my mound. He laps his tongue over my underwear and inner thighs, the strokes long, soft. I hum impatiently. My underwear is getting soaked. He slides it off my pelvis, and he promptly buries his face in my folds. Fingers come into the picture soon after. I writhe in his grasp, desiring release.

And Lord, does it come.

I don’t get to wait for my legs to stop quivering, as he rises from between them and says, ‘On all fours, love’, his voice a lusty rasp. I scramble to my hands and knees. He’s never asked for this before. I’m liking this greater sense of freedom he now has around me. How much had he been holding back? I spread myself for him. He pushes his cock up against my slit. I let out a small, startled ‘Oh’ when he enters me. I feel pinpricks where his fingertips are. Each thrust is deep and brutal. It hurts a little, but it hurts so good. I press the side of my face into the couch and close my eyes. Stars crash into each other in the blackness behind my eyelids.

Though he’s the werewolf here, I’m the one whimpering and moaning like an animal, too, while he huffs and growls with each movement. The sounds encourage him. ‘Please, don’t stop, don’t stop …’ I breathe. My walls convulse around his girth and fill up with an unbearable heat and wetness. Come drips out of me and trickles down my thighs. Then his thrusts become shallower and rough, his fingertips threaten to leave bruises on my skin, and he empties himself inside me. He lets out a strangled howl; my lip almost bleeds from how hard I’m biting down.

I feel so empty, almost a little sad, when he pulls out. I settle into a lounging position on the sofa. He wedges himself behind me. I gently fondle his business, still hard. He resumes licking my neck, sometimes rubbing his face on my skin.

‘I’m sorry if that was … weird. It’s the first time I fucked like that — and the first time I fucked after the full moon.’

I turn around and kiss him. ‘You were amazing.’ His ears turn pink. ‘Am I your first girlfriend who knows?’

‘Yes. About being mates …’ He pulls me closer to him. ‘I can do something about that. If you want. No pressure. It’s a huge decision.’

I won’t lie and say I didn’t consider the idea at least once last night. The dream I had about transforming and running alongside him on all fours can attest to that. But I tell him, ‘I need to think about it first.’ I don’t want him to think I’m rushing headlong into something I have little to no knowledge about. (Tabbing back and forth between pages about wolf behaviour for at least two hours doesn’t make me an expert. I’m not even sure if it’s relevant.) I also wasn’t expecting this question to come up so soon, considering he thought I’d leave him. I sweep my thumb across his lips, then his nose. ‘Maybe if I see you in your wolf form first …’

‘Fair enough. Promise me you’ll still love me the same after you’ve seen him. He’s more fun than I am, even when hopped up on industrial-strength bear tranquiliser.’

‘It’s going to take a lot to top what I’ve seen in the last year — and the last hour.’

He chuckles. ‘I’m in trouble.’

I spend the day at his place. (What? I’m taking a mental health day, and being with my boyfriend does wonders for my mood.) We fuck several more times, unable to get enough of each other; we’re like lovesick puppies. He lets shades of his true self slip through on occasion. He assures me it’s not because of the full moon. I assure him I know. Until today, I didn’t think it’d been possible for him to become more alluring. I give him my answer to his offer before sunset, which he happily accepts. At the end of the day, I lie in my wolf boy’s arms, waxing gratitude for the graveyard shift at the corner shop a year ago.

#exophilia #terato #werewolf #monster love #monster romance #mine

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glenncoco4 · 3 years

Text

You Can Count On Me

A/N: Chapter 2

••••

18 years later...

She steps into the gym, immediately sensing something in the air shift. It’s not a bad shift more like a welcomed shift, almost the same feeling whenever she enters a room that he’s in. Taking a quick scan across the room, her eyes land on a familiar mop of golden blonde hair attached to a man who’s pounding away at a punching bag.

Schooling her features, Kensi or “Tracy” strides over to a man that introduces himself as Janklow and begins talking about Danny, how she wanted to come to the place that her boyfriend talked so much about.

Janklow drops his guard just enough, calling the rest of their teammates over to introduce her, including one Marty Deeks, only today his name isn’t Marty and he’s not her best friend. Today he’s Jason Wyler fighting for a spot on an MMA team full of Marines.

••••

The three agents along with the tech operator and psychologist continue to stare at the monitor displayed with men from the gym, trying to figure out each ones possible motive to kill Zuna.

Callen’s brow furrows, his focus solely on the shaggy blonde. “What about Wyler?”

“He’s a bit sketchy.” She sends herself a mental high-five as she pictures her best friend’s reaction at her quip. “But he’s definitely not our guy.”

“He’ doesn’t fit in with the others. What makes you so sure its not him?” Sam questions, turning his attention to the brunette agent.

She shrugs, trying to remain nonchalant. “It’s just a feeling.”

The team leader share a look with his partner. “Or maybe its his baby blues.”

“Or his fluffy hair.” The ex-Navy SEAL finishes.

She huffs a laugh, shaking her head. “Listen, guys, I’m telling you, it’s not him.”

“Tell us, what makes you so sure.” Nate finally interjects, wondering what she saw in the blonde.

She wasn’t sure if she was going to have to out her friend but now she knows she does, there’s no way around it because if she doesn’t her best friend could end up hurt so she takes a deep breath. “Because his name isn’t Jason Wyler, it’s Marty Deeks and he’s an LAPD Detective.”

Callen’s eyes widen in shock. “And you know this because...”

“I was with him when he got his promotion.”

All four men’s brows simultaneously furrow in confusion.

Knowing they’re not going to give up until she gives them a little more, she relents. “He’s my best friend, the person I trust most in the world. He’s not our guy.”

The confidence in which she says it must be enough for the leader because he just shares aa look with his partner before turning back to her, trust written in both their eyes. “Okay.”

••••

Kensi’s just about to open Zuna’s laptop, when the doorknob starts to jiggle. Slowly reaching for the small of her back, where her weapon is secured, she watches as the door slowly opens and is caught off guard for the second time that day.

His cerulean blues widen in surprise when he meets her mismatched chocolate orbs for the second time that day. He really missed her, but that’s besides the point right now. “What the hell are you doing around here?”

“We’re investigating Zuna’s death. What are you doing here?”

“I’m undercover.”

“No shit.”

Before anything else can be said, Callen steps in from the kitchen, joining the two childhood friends.

“Marty this is Special Agent G Callen. Callen this is Detective Marty Deeks.”

The team leader takes the detective’s offered hand in greeting. “So I hear you know Kensi.”

“Yeah, know might be a bit of an understatement.”

Callen watches in awe of his coworker exchanging a smile with the detective. He’s not certain, but something tells him that the two are fighting something that’s inevitable. “Well we don’t want to step in on your investigation but we do need to find out what happened to Zuna.”

“Understandable.”

“Can you tell us what you’re under for?”

Deeks shakes his head, knowing that someone from the gym could and most likely is watching them. “Not here. There’s been a couple guys coming in and out from the gym since I’ve been here. I can probably slip away in a few hours.”

“You got your cell on you?” Kensi questions her friend, already knowing the answer.

“Just a burner.”

Callen nods in understanding. “Okay, give Kens your number and we’ll send you an address.”

“Sure thing.”

••••

She nearly jumps out of her skin when there’s a knock at the window. He’s definitely gonna pay for that later. Rolling down the window, Kensi see’s the confusion on his face.

“A Wendy’s, really?”

“Well, I couldn’t very well send you the address to the boat shed on a burner.”

When the words hit his ears, realization spreads across his face like an excited puppy that just got a new toy. “No!”

“Get in before I leave you here.”

Not having to be told twice, Marty hightails it around the SUV and quickly jumps in the passenger seat, shaking with excitement. “Kens, are you serious?”

Shaking her head, she checks her rear view as she slowly backs out of the parking lot. “I don’t know what your fascination with the boat shed is.”

“Are you kidding? It’s a secret hidey hole on the water, what’s not exciting about it?”

“Oh right, the Aquaman fantasy.”

“Okay, Miss I wanna fall in love on a ship and have sex in an old jalopy.”

She feigns shock and a little bit of outrage. “Hey, I told you that in confidence.”

“Yeah, but it’s slowly becoming my fantasy too so technically it’s okay.” He wiggles his eyebrows at her playfully. “Besides its just us here.”

Something in his demeanor feels a little flirty to her. Is she going crazy? When he flashes her a smile, she feels an unfamiliar surge of excitement run through her body. What the hell is going on?

He notices a look cross her features that he’s never seen before. “What?”

“Nothing. It’s just...I missed you.”

“I missed you too, Kens.” Marty feels a sudden sense of contentment as he watches her look back to the road and sees the blush rise to her cheeks. There’s a fluttering in his chest that’s unfamiliar to him. What the hell is happening?

••••

Deeks caught the team up on his op and all that was involved. He explained how Danny hadn’t come home the previous night, something about meeting up with this new girl Tracy. That earned him a famous Kensi trying not to smile, smile, which to be honest is one of his favorite things.

It didn’t go unnoticed by the other two agents in the room at the change in their coworker when she was around the detective. She seemed happier, like she wasn’t carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders.

The rest of the case goes off without a hitch, NCIS gets their killer and LAPD gets their drug ring bust, but most importantly Marty gets to go home...to his own bed.

••••

There’s a knock at his door, a smile spreading to his lips knowing exactly who it is. He unlocks the deadbolt, twisting the knob and pulls it open. “Well, well, well, if it isn’t Agent Blye.”

Kensi steps around him and into his apartment, case of their favorite beer in her hand. “Well, well, well, if it isn’t Shaggy Rogers.”

“Oh, touché.”

She sends him a smile over her shoulder and something washes over him. The spark in her mismatched orbs, is something he can’t quite describe. He shakes his head, trying to rid this unfamiliar feeling as she goes to the fridge, depositing the rest of the beer after taking two out.

“Pizza should be here in 30 minutes.”

“You got-“

“Hawaiian, yeah, yeah, but only half.” She shivers with disgust at his preference for toppings as she hands him the bottle.

“I would expect noting less.”

She squints her eyes, stepping up to him almost in a challenge. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Kensi Blye doesn’t eat any fruit unless its covered in chocolate.”

“I-I ate that apple that one time.”

“Only because your mom hadn’t gone to the store for groceries yet.”

She wants to retort but knows he’s right. So she steps around him, walking over to the couch, landing a soft punch to his shoulder on her way. “Just play the damn movie.”

“You’re the boss...KayKay.”

“I will kill you.”

“No, you won’t.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“You’re my best friend and the person I trust most in the world.”

“Clearly you’ve never seen Snapped.”

He shakes his head in disbelief, unable to stop the grin from appearing on his face. He missed this. He missed her and their banter.

A sudden knock on the door draws him out of his trance. “I think maybe you should get it. I don’t really want to have my back turned to you right now.”

“Haha.” She steps over his legs, whacking him with his cat pillow as she heads for the door. When she pulls it open, the last person she’d ever think it would be is standing there, all four foot and nine inches of her. “Hetty?”

“Miss. Blye.”

“Come in.”

Kensi ushers her boss into the apartment, eyes wide as saucers as she locks on with his.

Sending him a hint of a smile, Hetty takes a seat in the chair next to the couch. “Hello, Mr. Deeks.”

“Hello, Ms. Lange.”

“Please, call me Hetty.”

“What can I do for you, Hetty?”

“Actually its more what I can do for you.”

Kensi’s brow furrows along with Marty’s as the OSP manager hands the detective a manila folder.

Opening it he’s a little caught off guard when he sees all his information spread out before him. Everything from his statement from when Donald Blye saved him and his mother all the way to his most recent case. “Wow, Kensi was right. You are a secret ninja lady.”

The brunette feels the heat rise to her cheeks, feeling the scrutiny of her boss’s gaze fall on her.

Shaking her head, a tiny smile curls at the old woman’s lips. “It’s clear to me that you two work quite well together...even better than Mr. Callen and Mr. Hanna.”

“Tell us something we don’t already know.” Marty playfully nudges his best friend, trying to get a smile out of her but is unsuccessful. Instead her features are unreadable. What Hetty’s asking would be a huge deal...monumental. I mean working with his best friend, not going under by himself anymore, working with a team...with her. “Can I think about it?”

Kensi’s eyes find his, trying to figure out which way he’s leaning. She can tell he’s holding back because of her, he doesn’t want to over step. He deserves this, a team and people that will truly watch his back and selfishly she wants to be the one to do it and he do the same for her.

He sees the hopefulness in her eyes and knows the same is mirrored in his own. Getting a nod of approval from his best friend, he turns to his new boss with a smile. “I’m in.”

After he signs the form, Hetty gladly takes the folder back from their new liaison before taking her leave. “Well then as I understand it, you have a major undercover you’re working on and when the time comes you’ll get pulled back in but in the mean time, you’ll be reporting to OSP.”

“Thanks, Hetty.”

“I’ll leave you to it.” She sends them each a smile, showing herself to the door.

Once the door click shut, Kensi turns to her best friend and now partner...he’s her partner. She can’t help the Cheshire Cat like grin on her face. “We’re gonna be partners.”

Unable to stop himself, Marty closes the distance between them, wrapping his arms around her in hug that’s so familiar to them its like second nature. “We’re gonna be partners.”

••••

The following Monday had Kensi leading her best friend, now partner into the OSP Headquarters. She couldn’t help the smile that was tugging at her lips as she watched the shaggy blonde in his awestruck wonder as she showed him around the building.

Their first case together is a high profile missing persons case which results in Kensi being held captive but like always, her partner along with Sam and Callen has her back and they live to see another day.

••••

He’s waiting at the car for his partner when the buzzing from his phone draws his attention. Reaching into his pocket, he pulls out the offending object and immediately rolls his eyes as he reads the caller ID. “Bates, what do ya got?”

As his Lieutenant fills him in on what’s going on, Marty’s brow furrows and his body deflates, his eyes catching those of his best friend as she walks towards him with a bright smile on her face. One thing he hates most is having to cancel plans with her.

“Alright, I’ll be there.”

She waits until he hangs up the phone, her eyes meeting his, already knowing that their plans to go to the music festival this weekend are trashed.

“I’m not gonna make it in tomorrow. Bates just called me, undercover op we’ve been working on and I finally got my in.”

A sad smile crosses her face, she knows its not his fault. This is what they signed up for. “The sex-trafficking case?”

“Yeah.”

“When do you leave?”

“Tonight.”

“Okay.”

Her reaction is something he can’t quite describe. He knows what he wants it to be, but he’s just not sure. One thing he knows for sure is that now is not the time to lay it all out on the table. “Kens-“

“You’ll be careful, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

She scolds herself for letting her emotions slip, he doesn’t need this right now. He needs to be focused on his mission, but if she can get a little more time with him, she’ll gladly take it. “Do you have time to grab something to eat before you leave?”

He throws his arm around her shoulders, placing a kiss to the top of her head as they turn to walk towards the pier. “Always have time for you.”

There’s something about this goodbye that shifts their entire relationship, what it may be, they’re not sure. One thing is certain though, their lives are even more intertwined than they thought.

#Densi #Densi Fanfic #AU #Kensi Blye #Marty Deeks #Kensi x Deeks #You Can Count On Me #Chapter 2 #NCIS: LA #NCIS: LA Fanfic

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flowerfan2 · 3 years

Text

David x Patrick, 40k so far, A03 (read from the beginning here)

It starts with a reunion... but what happens after that?

Chapter 13

Monday morning after his run David goes into the office, closes the door, and gets to work. He spends a little bit of time figuring out whether he needs a printer (no), and if there are any office supplies he can order from Amazon and charge to the company (possibly; a larger monitor would be nice, and they aren’t actually that expensive). The desk and chair are functional enough, although they probably weren’t meant to be used for actual nine to five activity, and David is going to feel it in his back before the day is over.

He reluctantly logs on and starts checking emails. There’s a bunch from last week that he needs to deal with, and he messages Rory to see if he can respond to some of them. At ten there’s a meeting with a vendor over Zoom (and yes, he thinks, I am capable of using Zoom, Stevie), and by eleven o’clock, he’s bored.

It’s not that his job is bad, or even difficult. It’s just boring. Although he’s still involved with the type of products he enjoyed selling at the Apothecary, most of the joy has gone out of it. Now bringing in a new product means finding some way to convince the hotel operations staff that they can use it, and there are only so many travel size toiletries that a motel chain can give out without losing money.

When Patrick knocks on his door at noon, he’s more than ready to take a break. They bring their lunches out onto the lanai, Patrick rocking back and forth on the chair as David eats the delicious salad Patrick has prepared.

“I should have known you’d appreciate the grapes,” Patrick says, smiling as David takes another forkful.

“And the goat cheese,” David says, his mouth full. “It’s quite good. This can’t have come from the Publix.”

“No, I went to the farmer’s market in town,” Patrick says. “There’s a guy there with some really nice cheeses. From his own goats.”

David narrows his eyes at Patrick. “Are you being serious?”

“What, you think there can’t be goats in Florida?”

“It just doesn’t seem very on theme.”

“You’d rather they try to make cheese from alligators, or dolphins? I don’t think it would work.”

“Shut up.”

“People used to eat the armadillos, but now they give you the plague, so you won’t find that at the farm stand.”

David stares at Patrick. “Now you’re definitely making things up.”

“Nope.” Patrick grins at him, then takes a long sip of his iced tea. “So, how’s work?”

David opens his mouth to complain about how bored he is, and then shuts it again. He has no right to complain, he’s still involved with RA, he’s still employed. Patrick is neither.

Patrick sees exactly what’s going on. “It’s okay. I can take it. What craziness are the vendors trying to pull today?”

David hesitates, but Patrick’s face is open and he’s genuinely interested. He launches into his tale of woe, the repetitiveness and the limits and the damn corporate frames, and all of a sudden he’s out of breath, sitting back in his chair with his jaw on the floor.

“Sorry. I guess it’s been grating on me for a while. I didn’t mean to spew that all over you.”

“No, it’s okay. I get it.” Patrick shrugs. “I wasn’t able to find anything I liked doing as much as our store. It’s different, I guess, when you’re in charge.”

David smirks. “When who was in charge?”

“Fine – when we were in charge.” Patrick’s face changes, and David can feel it in his chest. “It was ours. Together.”

That’s the rub, isn’t it? Rose Apothecary wasn’t just the ideal place to express his creative side through high-end bath products, it was a labor of love with the love of his life. Together.

*****

“Ugh, David, why won’t you help?”

“Alexis, for the hundredth time, I can’t magically lower your rent. I’m already working for you for a fraction of what my time is worth. If you’re not making enough money and you don’t want to live somewhere our parents already own, get a real job.”

“Every time I run the numbers it looks like it should work out. I don’t know why my projects never make what they say they will.”

“What who says they will?”

“My spreadsheets!”

Like a genie responding to his name, Patrick sticks his head in the door to the office, an Amazon box in his hand. His eyes go wide when he sees Alexis on the screen. “David, um, this came for you, I didn’t know if you’d need it…”

“Oooh, thanks.” David’s pretty sure the package contains the sketch pads and colored pencils he ordered. He was planning on expensing them to the account he’s working on with Alexis, but it sounds like now is not the time to discuss it.

He stands up and goes to Patrick, taking the box from him and putting it on the couch, then reaching out to link his arm through Patrick’s. Patrick is possibly even paler than usual, and seems to have lost the power of speech as he stares at Alexis. She’s staring back at him, her hands frozen in whatever little flingy motions she was making when she caught sight of Patrick.

“So, this is incredibly awkward,” David says, looking between the two of them. “What do we say we just move past it?”

Alexis recovers first, her need to disagree with David overpowering her distress. “David,” she starts, tossing her hair and shaking her head in an effort to get herself on track. “It’s not awkward. We’re fine. Peachy. Right, Patrick?”

David moves them a little closer to his laptop, and guides Patrick to sit down in the chair. “Yeah, um. Hi, Alexis.”

Alexis twists a lock of hair around a finger and leans in close, peering at Patrick through the screen. “I’m sorry you got hurt,” she says, gently sincere.

Patrick’s hand flies up to his head, as if he had forgotten all about his wound. “Is it that noticeable?”

“It’s not, not really.” David slides his arm around Patrick’s shoulders. “I’m sure she can’t even see anything,” he says softly into his ear. “She only knows because I told her about it.”

Patrick looks up at David a little helplessly, and David can’t help leaning in and kissing him, a hand on his cheek, not letting up even as Alexis sighs loudly at them.

“Eat nails, Alexis,” he says, without much venom.

“I’m not mad,” Alexis says. “I get it. You’re each others’ locks.”

Patrick blinks at her, confused. “We can’t both be locks.”

“Whatever, you’re the key that goes in his lock, you know what I mean.”

“That’s quite an assumption,” David says, struggling to keep his face straight.

“Eew, David, shut up.”

“You started it.”

“I don’t care, you still have to help me figure this out!”

Patrick shifts, sitting up a little taller. With a quick glance at David, he enters the fray. “Did I hear you say you were having problems with your budgeting spreadsheets?”

*****

David’s in the living room, waiting for Patrick to finish talking with Alexis and possibly reveal that she needs to declare bankruptcy, when the landline in the kitchen rings. Figuring it might be the hurricane screen guys (who he needs to be nicer to, they could be saving their lives) he scoots off the couch and hustles into the kitchen to pick it up. When he hears the voice on the other end, he really wishes he had let it go to voice mail.

It’s not the hurricane screen guys. It’s Marcy Brewer.

“David? Is that you?”

He imagines hanging up, but that would be unfathomably rude, and this is Patrick’s mom. Who David hasn’t spoken to in over three years. Who probably hates him for leaving Patrick.

“Um, yes, hi, hello.”

“It’s so nice to hear your voice,” Marcy says. Sounds fake, but whatever. “How are you?”

David rocks his head back and wonders how on earth he could have gotten into this situation again – he’s not going to be mistaken for Patrick’s business partner this time around, but do Marcy and Clint know they’re back together? At least Marcy doesn’t seem to be surprised that David is at their house picking up the phone.

“I’m good, thanks. How about you?” he responds, the standard phrases giving him a moment to catch his breath.

“Oh, we’re fine. What have you and Patrick been up to?” Marcy sounds friendly, interested. Not at all like she wishes David was suffering in the deepest levels of hell.

David forces himself to try to respond to her question, and then nearly laughs, given that they haven’t been “up to” anything nearly as raunchy as Marcy probably expects. Best to escape as soon as possible. “Not much – hang on, let me get Patrick.”

“David, wait,” Marcy says, and David does, pressing a hand over his eyes and hoping that this isn’t the scolding he was expecting. Not that he doesn’t deserve it, but he’s really not looking forward to it.

“What is it?”

“I just wanted to say that Clint and I are so pleased that you two boys are giving it another go. Patrick’s never been as happy as he was when you were together.”

David’s throat gets tight. He’d like to think that’s true. Patrick seemed happy, at least most of the time. He had said he was. But then how does he explain the whole Mark thing?

“It probably seems hard, but we have faith in you,” Marcy continues. “We saw what the two of you had. It was something special.”

“It was,” David says, Marcy’s kind words demanding an answer. “You have to know, he made me happy too. Happier than I ever thought I’d be. But I blew it, I screwed it up…” David has no idea why these words are falling out of his mouth, it’s some kind of effect that Brewers have on him, it’s horrible.

“Don’t beat yourself up, dear. Sometimes getting everything you ever wanted can be overwhelming. Patrick wasn’t used to that either, you realize. The important thing is that you’re both trying again, and learning from what happened before. You’ll make it work this time.”

David lets out a long, slow breath. From your mouth to god’s ears, Marcy. “Do you really think so?”

“I do. I have a good feeling about this. I know my boy. It can take him a while to figure out what he wants, but when he does, look out.”

David laughs weakly. “Is that a good thing?”

“Well, do you want to be with him?”

He’s positive that there aren’t words in spoken language to fully express how much he wants to be with Patrick. “Yes.”

“Then it’s good. Because Patrick is sure about you. Let yourself be sure about him. Not everything has to end in disaster.”

David wants to argue with her, to point out how his life is an example of exactly the opposite. But then he remembers a conversation with his therapist where she made him reflect on things that have gone well for him, whether or not they were shaky at some point in the past – his relationship with his parents, his bond with Alexis, his work with RA. His recovery, and the effort he’s put into his mental health.

Maybe his relationship with Patrick can be like that. Shaky in the past, but solid now.

Patrick is sure about you, Marcy put it. Maybe David can be sure, too.

“Thank you,” David says to her, his brain spinning.

“Anytime. Now go get yourself a glass of water, and put Patrick on the phone.”

Patrick chooses this moment to appear, his eyes questioning as David thrusts the phone at him and escapes into the bedroom. But he’s too jittery to just sit on the bed. He goes into the guest room, strips, and tugs on his swim trunks and a long-sleeved swim shirt. He pauses to look in the mirror over the dresser, his eyes looking back at him a bit wild. The thin shirt is white with a black stripe down each sleeve, and he runs his hands over the smooth material. Not exactly haute couture but it’ll do in what is feeling very much like a pinch.

David feels Patrick’s gaze on him as he breezes through the living room and out on to the lanai, not letting himself pause before jumping feet-first into the deep end of the pool. The water is warmer than the air, but still a bit of a shock as it surrounds him. He pops up to breathe, pushing his hair out of his face, and starts swimming.

David had it in his head that he was going to swim laps until he burned out his nervous energy, but he rapidly discovers that the pool isn’t really big enough for that, and also that as fit as he might be, swimming seems to use different muscles than running and breathlessly swimming miniature laps in a tiny pool isn’t that much fun.

He still swims back and forth a few times, then bobs around in the deep end, letting himself sink down with his hands above his head, his fingertips seemingly staying above the water even when his toes touch the bottom. It’s not very deep.

The pool isn’t large but it is pretty, dark blue ceramic tiles running along the waterline, and seat-like ledges set in several places in both the shallow and deep ends, presumably so that the old people doing their water aerobics can rest. Or maybe to sit on while sipping a tropical drink, which is a decidedly appealing thought David files away for later.

He hears steps and spins around to see Patrick, clad in a white t-shirt and Kelly green swim trunks, standing by the edge of the pool.

“Hi there,” Patrick says. His face is wavering between fondly amused and concerned.

“I like the pool,” David says. He reaches out to hold on to the concrete by Patrick’s feet. The angle is kind of funny, looking up at Patrick’s pale legs.

“I can see that.” Patrick fiddles with the hem of his shirt, glancing around and then back at David. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” David tries to make this sound confident. Why wouldn’t he be? Getting worked up over talking to Marcy Brewer for the first time in more than three years and then throwing himself into the deep end of the pool is dramatic, fine, but it’s not completely out of character.

“Want some company?”

David can’t help but smile at this. “Assuming you are referring to yourself, always.”

Patrick goes over to the shallow end, where there are steps leading into the water and a curved handrail. He pauses, and David sees him hesitate before tugging off his t-shirt. David swims over, reaching out to Patrick, catching him by the waist and guiding him into his arms.

They stand in the shallow end together, David carefully running his hands along Patrick’s flanks, wary of the still healing bruises. Patrick relaxes, his shoulders coming down, and he rests his head on David’s shoulder.

“How are you feeling?” David asks softly, a hand splayed over Patrick’s ribs.

“Good. Really good.” Patrick looks up at David and presses a finger along his eyebrow, catching a stray drop of water. “How are you?”

David shudders as he remembers the call with Marcy, which the sight of Patrick’s bare skin had managed to overshadow for just a moment. He takes a breath and squeezes Patrick’s shoulders, putting on a smile. “I’m fine.”

“Did my mother say something to upset you?”

He shakes his head. “No, absolutely not.”

“Then what is it?”

“You told your parents.”

Patrick tilts his head. “Yes…?”

“About us. Being back together.”. The phrase still doesn’t sit right with him, it seems too trivial for what is going on between them, but it gets the point across.

“Yeah, I did. Was that not okay?”

“No, of course it’s okay, it just…”

“It surprised you.” Patrick gives him a rueful glance. “Because I didn’t tell them, before, back in Schitt’s Creek.”

“I just wasn’t sure,” David says, “when I picked up the phone and it was your mother, whether she knew? And then it turned out that she did know, and she said – all these unbearably sweet things.”

“I’m sorry, she doesn’t have much of a filter.”

“No, it’s okay, like I said, she was really nice.”

“It was just a lot?” Patrick suggests.

“It was a lot. And from your mother.”

Patrick laughs. “She’s just excited.” He backs them a little deeper into the pool, the water now up to their shoulders.

“But why?” David says, a panicked whine creeping into his voice. “After what I did, why would she think this is a good idea?”

Patrick puts his hands firmly around David’s waist and finds his eyes. “After we broke up, I told my parents everything. Everything.. It’s kind of embarrassing, looking back on it, but I did. They were getting ready for a wedding too, remember? They didn’t understand what went wrong, so I told them about Mark, and how you knew something was off. They don’t blame you for what happened, any more than they blame me.”

David feels his chest clench. “Are you ever going to tell me what really was going on? Why you were flirting with him?” He doesn’t mean to sound accusatory, but there’s a part of him that needs to know why. Was it something he did? Is there something he needs to do better? And if Patrick can’t come up with a reason, how do they make sure it doesn’t happen again?

Patrick steps back from David, one hand trailing down David’s arm to take his hand, putting a little distance between them but still hanging on. “I think I was just scared of getting something I thought I’d never have.”

“But you were going to marry Rachel. You had the chance before, you knew you could have it.”

“I could have been married to Rachel, but it wouldn’t have been right. When I was with her, there was always something missing. That’s what I thought I’d never have, even when I couldn’t put my finger on it. Turns out, what was missing was you.”

Patrick pulls David in, brushing a kiss over his lips. He tastes like tea, and pool water, and the soft warm heat of his skin. David melts against him, his hips swaying to bring them close. “I’m so sorry I didn’t know how to handle it,” Patrick says quietly. “It was scary because you made it right, David. After all that wasted time, you made it right.”

When they part, David feels giddy. It’s time to commit, he can feel it. He can feel how easy it is to love this person, who doesn’t hesitate to share his feelings with David, who isn’t scared off by how strongly David feels, by him spiraling literally into the deep end. He knows that loving someone is a risk, but Patrick is all in, and David wants to be there too.

“I’m sure about you, Patrick,” he says. Patrick’s eyes widen, fixed on his own, and David nods, feeling the truth of it all through his body. “I’m sure about you, too.”

Patrick surges forward in the water and climbs into his arms, his legs coming up and around David too, almost overbalancing them as David splashes to keep them upright. As he steadies he wraps his arms around Patrick and kisses him fiercely. Getting what you’ve always wanted may be overwhelming, but it’s damn good just the same.

#David x Patrick #David Rose #Patrick Brewer #Schitt's Creek fic #SC fic #Schitt's Creek #Reunion fic #Literally spiraling into the deep end

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lucy-268 · 4 years

Text

Jury Duty

A/N – This was an anonymous request to use #39 of the 50 ways to to I Love You prompt list found here. Prompt was - “I knew you weren’t dead. I refused to believe it- I knew it couldn’t be true”. My masterlist is here.

Disclaimer: Characters belong to PB

Warnings: TW - gunshots and violence

Series/Pairing: Open Heart - Ethan x f!MC (Charley Valentine)

Word count: 2,634

Ethan and Charley broke apart when they felt the force hit the car window. Ethan turned his head to see Bryce standing outside the car with Jackie several feet behind him. The two residents were laughing. Ethan turned back to look at Charley. “Your friends are idiots.”

“Sometimes, yeah.” Charley waved at them through the car window. She pressed another kiss to Ethan’s lips. “Thank you for lending me your car. If I get out early I’ll be back.”

Ethan opened the passenger door. “I have to admit it was nice being driven to work today. Be careful and I’ll see you later.” He stepped out in front of the hospital but didn’t get a chance to close the door before Bryce stuck his head.

Bryce let out a low whistle. “This is nice, Ramsey.” He ran his hand over the seat. “Nappa leather. Bowers & Wilkins audio.” He looked at Charley in the driver's seat. He winked at her, stepped back from the car and grinned at Ethan. “Sexy driver.”

Ethan closed the door. “Stop drooling over my car and especially over my girl.”

Charley watched Ethan walk into the hospital with Jackie and Bryce, while the latter was still trying to get a glimpse of the car as Charley drove away.

Soon Charley pulled into a parking space across the street from the courthouse. She reread the letter. Cell phone stays in the car. She took her driver’s license out of her wallet and slipped it into her pocket to make it easy for her to get to. Room 208. She turned off her phone and dropped it into the console. She closed the door and made sure that it was locked before heading into the courthouse.

Charley walked though the doors and looked for the elevator but was stopped by a security guard. “Can I help you?”

“Yes, where are the elevators? I need to get to the second floor.”

“Why?”

Charley looked up at him. “I need to report for jury duty.”

“Most of juries were canceled for today. Do you have your letter and ID? I’ll be sure your group is still supposed to be here today.”

He took her letter and ID and verified her to a list. “You’re cleared to go upstairs. Check in at room 208 and they’ll direct you from there. Good luck.”

Once upstairs Charley checked in. “You can have a seat in here. We have coffee over against the wall. There are vending machines down the hall to the right. Restroom and water fountains across from them. If you leave this room, be back by 9:00 am. That’s when we move you to the courtroom. Judge wants everyone in their seats by 9:15.”

Charley glanced at the coffee machine. “I work in a hospital. Coffee sucks there, how about here?”

The receptionist grinned. “You’ll feel right at home. There is usually an espresso cart on the main level, but security closed it today.”

“Is there something special going on today? It seems like security is an issue.”

“The receptionist shrugged. “We’re concerned everyday, but they did cancel all the jury selections except one today.”

Charley went down the hall and got a can of soda. She went back and sat down at the end of a row. She pulled out the newest NEJM and opened it. She flipped through to find the article by Dr. James Hendricks, her emergency medicine professor. She was about half way through the article when someone sat down next to her. She glanced up to see the newcomer smiling at her. He held out his hand, “Hi, Eric Wilson, and you are?”

She shook his hand. “Charley Valentine.”

Eric held her hand longer than necessary. She had to give a tug to get him to release her hand. “Is that a miss or a missus?”

Charley smiled, “It’s actually doctor.”

The bailiff came into the room just then. “On your juror ID you have a number from one to ninety-one. I need you to exit this room and walk down the hall to courtroom seven in order. You will be seated in rows in alphabetical order and the judge will question you individually.”

Once all the jurors were in the courtroom, the lawyers and defendant came in and were seated. Everyone rose while the judge came into the court. “I’m Judge Hughes. In a few minutes we’re going to go through the jury pool. I want you to tell me your name and occupation. Before that I want to know if anyone in the jury pool has an association with any of the prosecutors, defense attorneys, or the defendant. Please raise your hand. When you are called on, tell the court your juror number and who you have or had an association with.”

For the next twenty minutes various jurors told about former classmates, neighbors, and church group volunteers. None of the associations were extensive enough to excuse any of the jurors. During the juror roll call the judge would periodically ask a juror a question or two. Finally he got to Charley. “I’m juror number eighty-eight. Charley Valentine and I’m a doctor.”

“Charley?”

“Yes, your honor.”

He looked at her and down to his paperwork. “My paperwork says your name is Charlotte, is that correct?”

“It is, but I go by Charley.”

The judge nodded. “What kind of doctor are you?”

“I’m a medical resident at Edenbrook. I’m on the diagnostics team there.”

“Thank you. Juror number eighty-nine, please.”

“Juror number eighty-nine. Eric Wilson, auditor.”

“An auditor, huh? Can you be more specific.”

“I review financial documents and look for fraud.”

Charley saw the defense lawyer turn around in his chair to look at Eric.

“Thank you. Juror number ninety, please.”

Eric leaned over to Charley, “I just got excused,” he whispered.

Charley whispered back, “How do you know?”

“Defense attorney practically got whiplash when I said I specialize in fraud.”

Once all the juror were questioned, the case was summarized by the clerk. The defendant was being charged with embezzlement. Charley glanced at Eric, who was smirking. The odds that an auditor who specializes in fraud getting seated on an embezzlement trial were slim to none.

The clerk stated that the court would give everyone twenty minutes for a restroom break. “If you want a soda or coffee, remember they cannot be brought back into the court. Only bottled water may be carried in. When you get back from your break, we will put you in the jury box twelve at a time and eliminate jurors from the pool until we have twenty-four, twelve jurors and twelve alternates. When you are called up to the juror box bring everything with you, if you are eliminated from the pool do not leave the courtroom, return to the same seat you are in now. Once we have our twenty-four we will dismiss the rest of you. We will all rise for the judge to leave then we will take our twenty minute bre-”

Three armed men came into the courtroom, one from the judge’s chambers and two through the main doors. One of the men shot the bailiff. Charley jumped up and the gunman swiveled to her. “Sit down!”

“I’m a doctor!”

“I said sit down!”

Eric stood up and pulled her back, and two of the gunmen raised their guns and fired.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Bryce burst into the diagnostics team room. “There was a shooting at a courthouse. Eight people were shot!”

Ethan stood. “Which one?”

Bryce shrugged. “I just heard courthouse.”

June and Baz pulled out their phones and Ethan turned the TV on to get late breaking news. His phone rang, with a number he didn’t recognize. He hand shook as he answered. “Hello?”

“Ethan? It’s Tobias. Charley is here and she’s being taken into surgery now. I know you want her there but we can’t move her now.”

“I’ll… I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

Knowing Ethan didn’t have his car, Baz was waiting when Ethan ended the call. “I’m driving.”

*~*~*~*~*~*

Soon Ethan, Baz, and Naveen were waiting near the operating rooms at Mass Kenmore. Aurora came in and sat with them. “Dr. Drummond is great. She’s in great hands.”

Ethan slammed his hand against a vending machine. Naveen went over and put his hand on Ethan’s shoulder. He talked to him quietly but Baz and Aurora still walked down the hall to give them privacy.

Ethan has tears in his eyes. “I should have gone with her. I should have forbidden her to go.” Even as he said that he knew that legally he couldn’t have done either of those.

As the time progressed Bryce and Harper showed up. After another hour Dr. Drummond came out of the operating room stopping short when he saw Harper. He nodded to her before approaching Ethan. “Dr. Ramsey, can we… go somewhere more private.” He looked at the others around.

“They can all hear. I am listed as her contact person.”

Dr. Drummond considered for a moment before nodding. “The bullet hit her spleen and then her stomach. In fact it hit her spleen twice, which is why it took longer to get the bleeding stopped. We were able to repair the damage. But she has a long road to recovery, and I expect that she will make a full recovery. I also understand that you will probably want her moved to Edenbrook. I won’t sign off on that for at least five days.”

“Can I see her?”

“I’m coming with you.” Harper followed.

Dr. Drummond lead them to the recovery rooms and Ethan was finally able to see her through the window.

“I need to touch her. I need to feel she’s real.”

The nurse checked her monitors and grabbed a bag before stepping out into the hall. She provided an update saying that if all went well they would be moving her to a room in ICU in about twelve hours. The nurse handed the bag with all of Charley’s belongings to Ethan. Harper reached over and grabbed it from his hand. “I’ll take that.” Harper squeezed his arm and left him with Charley.

Ethan returned to the waiting room to find Elijah and Sienna with Aurora, Harper, and Naveen. “Jackie went with Bryce and Baz to see if they could find your car.”

“I don’t give a damn about the car.”

“No, but if it’s left there too long it will get impounded and Charley ill feel guilty because she was the one driving it.” Naveen smiled. “That’s probably the right attitude because earlier today I heard Dr. Lahela saying it would love to take the car out for a spin.”

Tobias came into the waiting room. “You should go home. We’ll call you.”

Ethan looked up at him. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“What would you tell a family member in your position?” Tobias asked.

“Probably to go home. But I’m staying here.” Ethan said.

“I’ll stay with you,” Naveen said.

“You don’t need to,” Ethan replied.

“Do you want me to go feed the kittens?” Sienna asked. “I can also get anything Charley might need?”

“Is Charley’s purse in there?” He indicated the bag.

Aurora nodded her head. “Yes, but Jackie took her keys to get the car. She left everything else.”

Ethan handed Sienna his key ring. “Thank you. Just take care of the cats. I’ll get anything else she needs after she wakes up.”

Everyone else left Ethan and Naveen made themselves as comfortable as possible in the inherently uncomfortable waiting room chairs.

Early the next morning Aurora came in with cups of coffee from the diner down the street. “Dr. Carrick and Dr. Drummond signed the paperwork and they are moving Charley. She’ll be in room 583.” She also gave him back his keys.

“Thank you, Aurora.” He looked at his keys. “Will Sienna need these.”

“No. She kept the house key from Charley’s ring. Bryce has her car key. He’s going to bring your car over here later.”

Ethan and Naveen headed up to the fifth floor while Aurora went to check on her patients.

Tobias said that Charley’s vitals had improved overnight. “She’s still not awake, but that’s because of the drugs. Hopefully they’ll wear off by early afternoon.”

Naveen stayed to get more information about Charley before heading back to Edenbrook.

It was late evening and Charley still hadn’t woken up. Tobias came in to check on her. He was concerned and said he was going to go check with the anesthesiologist. Ethan was sitting where he had been most of the day. His chair pulled up next to the bed, with their fingers laced together. His head was resting on her chest.

He heard a moan and his head snapped up. His eyes searched her face and her eyelids fluttered. She opened her mouth to speak but all that came out was a broken whisper.

Ethan poured her a glass of water and helped her take a sip. She looked at him and grabbed his hand. “What… what happened? Where am I?”

Tobias came back into the room just then. “The patient is awake. How are you, Charley?”

Charley looked between the two of them and feel back onto the pillow.

“What do you remember?”

“The courthouse. And guns. Did I get shot?” She sounded almost offended at the idea.

Tobias was the one who answered. “You did. And you were operated on by one of the best surgeons.”

“Why am I here?”

Ethan answered, “Mass Kenmore is closer to the courthouse. And time was of the essence.”

Tobias smiled. “He wants you moved to Edenbrook as soon as possible. He’s afraid that like a couple of the other residents you might want to transfer here if you spend too much time in a truly great hospital. You’re always welcome to come back here, either to work or when you get tired of him. Call me if you need anything. My cell number is on the back.” He winked at her and handed her his business card before leaving the room.

Ethan stood. “I’ll be right back.” He followed Tobias into the hallway. “Thank you. And you know she’ll never call you.”

Carrick nodded. “I know and you’re welcome.”

Ethan returned to Charley. She was sitting up in bed. She blew her nose and she was crying. He wrapped her in a hug. He kissed her forehead. “What’s wrong?”

“I remember sitting in the courtroom and they shot the bailiff. I wanted to go to him and two of them, they turned to me.” She looked at Ethan like she was trying to etch his face into her memory. “I was so scared I wouldn’t see you again. I thought I was going to die.”

Ethan wiped her tears and pushed her hair back to see her better. “When I heard there had been a shooting and there were some dead, I knew you weren’t dead. I refused to believe it- I knew it couldn’t be true.” He captured her lips in a kiss. He placed her hand over his heart. “I would have felt it if you were.”

Charley looked at him. “You haven’t gone home.”

He shook his head. “I wasn’t going to leave you. Sienna has gone over to take care of the kittens. I forgot about them. Lahela picked up the car by the courthouse. You have good friends.”

She smiled. “We have good friends.”

He chuckled. “We have good friends.”

“Maybe I’m selfish for asking, but will you stay with me again tonight? I don’t want to be alone yet.”

“I’ll stay as long as you need me.”

“Forever,” she smiled as she leaned back on her pillow, holding his hand against her chest. “Forever works for me.”

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full-hd-sun · 3 years

Text

answer me

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Relationship: Dong Si Cheng | WinWin/Nakamoto Yuta Characters: Dong Si Cheng | WinWin, Nakamoto Yuta, Moon Taeil, Suh Youngho | Johnny, Wong Yuk Hei | Lucas, Qian Kun, Liu Yang Yang, Wong Kun Hang | Hendery, Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul | Ten Additional Tags: Awkward Flirting, Attempts to flirt, Fluff, Attempt at Humor, Firefighters, Phone Calls & Telephones, alcohol mentioning

The Japanese never paid strong attention to people’s voices.

It started on a cool October season when a hotline operator called him. He reported that a few streets from the fire station, a flat was burning, in which, according to the victims’ neighbors, there were kids and two old humans. Nakamoto thanked him, writing the coordinates and some info on a piece of paper, and, calling the team, moved to work.

A few days afterward, the same voice reported about a kid whose hand was stuck between the bars of the fence.

“The injured kid is about nine years old. Previously, he got stuck till the shoulders, as the incident reporter struggled to help the child, but he did not move a millimeter.”

“Did you find and tell his parents?”

“No, but the informant told his parents, who know the victim.”

“OK, thank you for the report. We will get there as soon as possible,” with these talks he instructs his colleague Jisung, who, after passing his eyes over the piece of paper, thanks Yuta and rushes towards the squad. Nakamoto is bad at granting first aid, so he is useless there. He leans back in his chair and stretches, crunching his back stiff because of long sitting. Then he closes his eyes.

The first thing that comes to his mind is that he has not even started the edge of housekeeping, since because of regular shifts. To get into his room, he must complete a quest from uncleared boxes from pizzas eaten on the go in the morning and scattered clothes everywhere; in most cases, he justifies his job as a firefighter - if you want to take out somewhere on his day off, wake him up first.

And suddenly the voice of the operator creeps into the image, which anyway attracted him. Usually, when the operators announce what happened, they have a panicked tone, as if it, God forbid, happened in their family. But the tone of this operator is entirely calm, and if the condition was fatal, he announced this in a quiet voice with slight hoarseness; probably talks a lot during the day.

The loud sound of the phone brought out of his dreams, so Yuta had to open his eyes and in four steps be near the dial.

“Well, already ... Are you firefighters or who?” he discovers a recognizable and somewhat annoyed voice on the other hand of the line. “Be more gathered,” the same voice reads, and the Japanese just grins. It delights him.

“Did something happen again?” asks Yuta keeping a pen with a piece of note wide-awake.

“I’m calling because of a child whose hand stuck in the fence. We called the parents. But they are a somewhat dysfunctional family because they just so violent to me when I told them of the event!” on the last words the operator’s voice breaks down a bit, which touches the firefighter. “So the boy will come to you, and there you will already call the guardianship authorities and all the cases.”

“Ok, I found out. Thanks for the info.”

“And be more responsive to calls. A person dies because of your delay in responding, how will you live after that?” the operator says in an instructive manner.

“Are your parents not dragons by any chance? Then how do they explain that you are such a fire?” Yuta says in a languid tone, and, covering the mic with his palm, he giggles. There is a silence of the phone for a minute, accompanied by a deep sigh, and Nakamoto swears that he can feel the operator rolling his eyes.

“Excuse me, of course, but did your grand-grandfather teach you how to tackle, or are you so ancient?” the tone is humbler - sweet and smooth.

“It did not work?” expresses the firefighter in a somewhat agitated tone.

“Of course not. You have to study and understand the art of a flirt,” here is a minute of silence, “but your voice is as sweet as honey, which I add to my tea.” Yuta hears a gentle chuckle on the other side.

"Was it a tackle or are you teaching me to tease, mister..." - the firefighter stumbles, because he does not know the name of the operator, he never introduced himself. In response, there is the most magnificent and pure children’s laugh that a Japanese has ever heard.

“I’ll tell you my name if the next time you pick up the phone when I call,” a voice murmured on the other side,” and now I have to go to accomplish my shift. So let’s try your luck, Big Time. See you.” and the operator drops the call, leaving Yuta with an idiotic grin all over his face.

He had never run-up to the phone so rapidly before when it called, picking up a call and holding his breathing, expecting, but it was not him. This was the second week. Some voices were regularly repeated, but the one he lacked so much was seldom on duty. It’s marvelous how much Yuta wants to hear this operator. He rushes headlong, even if he is standing at the other end of the hall, at the sound of the ring.

When Nakamoto comes to the later shift, having already given up any confidence when the call sounds, he pauses to pick up, but something inside pushes him to receive the call, and he responds to the call.

- Hey? - he is silent for a couple of seconds, and suddenly it dawns on him that the firefighters should not say in such a way. - Oh sorry. Fire station number one, what can I be ...

- Well, hello, - the voice says with a laugh, making Yuta fell into a stupor.

- You…

- Me, - the firefighter hears on the other side a slight laugh in his voice. - What am I calling. There, several people were stuck in a shopping center elevator.

Yuta writes all the details and the street and then gives the piece of paper to Doyoung. After making sure he’s gone, Nakamoto returns to the phone. - Well, honey, you were right, I am lucky.

There is a chuckle on the other side, and the Japanese man quite closes his eyes.

- You only thought about it all the time?

- Well, really, you developed a reflex of Pavlov’s dog. I’ve never picked up my phone so immediately, - says the firefighter, sitting down on a chair and throwing his legs over the back of a nearby chair.

- For a second I imagined you in a collar and with a chain which I hold at the end, - the operator laughs. Yuta just chuckles and looks at himself in the mirror - maybe it would suit him.

- Why were you not on duty for so long? Probably fell from your home - paradise? - at least in the Japanese's head this tackle sounded cool, but judging by the silence of the operator, it was again a failed number.

- Now you asked to teach you how to roll from your great-great-grandfather? - the operator imitates the stern voice and then laughs. - But tell him that this is much better.

The firefighter is glad to understand that he’s already doing better.

- So, tell me your name, I picked up the phone when you called.

- Did I say that? - The voice asks in surprise.

Yuta chuckles in response, straightening his red hair, which sticks into his eyes although he tied it in a ponytail at the back.

- Well, then I want to take back my promise.

- Why? Am I unpleasant to you? Don’t you like my voice? - tries to hide Nakamoto’s anxiety.

There is a burst of sincere laughter that caresses his ear.

- No, of course not. I just like to play, and you heartily accept my rules - the voice becomes languid, or does it seem so to a Japanese in love?

The corners of the firefighter’s lips spread across his face in a grin, exposing his fangs.

- Well, you may be right. I like to hunt you, - taking off his legs from the back of the chair and sitting down, he adds in a whisper: - But baby, take it down a notch, that I am not as simple as I look, - leans back and feeling unbearably good, says Yuta. The operator chuckles in response, and the Japanese involved in this game likes it. He likes that this kid does not so easily fall into the clutches of a predator.

They were silent for another minute, and Nakamoto felt uneasy.

- Um ... How are you? - Coughing softly, he asks.

On the other side, he can hear a peal of chesty, rolling laughter.

- Are you asking this to talk a little longer?

- Stealing your time? - Yuta’s cheeky grin grows as he looks at himself in the mirror. - Yes, I’m such a thief. And you, by the way, are also a thief.

- And why is that? - the operator is indignant, and it amuses the firefighter.

- Because you stole a piece of my heart. - Now it’s Nakamoto’s turn to laugh out loud while the operator thinks about something.

- Hmm, it was good, - the voice finally answers, and Yuta, burying his fingers in his hair, conducts through them, pleased with himself.

- But back to the previous one. It was you who brought me into the game, so I’m running after you.

- Well, I did not force you to do it.

- Hmm. Here you are right. I’ll reformulate - I’m running after you of my own free will, - says the firefighter, stretching in his chair.

- Did I interest you so much? - says the voice on the other side.

- You don’t even know how much, - the Japanese grins.

This seems, surprised the operator very much, as he became quiet. Yuta runs her tongue over her dry lips in anticipation of an answer, and when it doesn’t follow, she asks:

- Are you surprised that your fabulous voice charmed my callous heart and envelops it with the desire to live on and continue your game?

Nakamoto hears the operator on the other end speaking Chinese and then brings the phone to his ear.

- No.

Yuta bites her lower lip as she imagines that voice just got embarrassed.

- Oh, the dear angel was embarrassed.

- Not true! At the last word, the guy’s voice breaks again, and Nakamoto smiles triumphantly.

- Yah? You flirt like a god, but here you were embarrassed by a compliment from me? The fireman purrs, teasing the operator.

- Yes! I’m not embarrassed! Is a blatant lie, but Nakamoto rolls his eyes and runs his tongue over the gums under his lower lip. He senses how long it takes for the kid to answer, so he’s sure he’s blushing.

- Good, good, red maiden. I’ve got things going on here, so I have to leave you. Until the next call, - without waiting for an answer, Yuta drops the call and grins triumphantly, exposing his fangs.

If the kid wants to play, he will suit him. One: one.

Their subsequent calls were purely working, with no game. During this time, Yuta manages to find out quite by accident that this is operator number 2810. Of course, this information does not bring him closer to revealing the guy, but it pleases him even more because the game continued.

Unexpectedly, Taeil, their department head, after intercity meetings of all fire departments, decided to put several operators on the first floor of the fire department in which Japanese works. He explained this by the fact that the operator’s department has so little space that they almost sit on each other’s heads, and the first fire department has an empty floor idle. Everyone didn’t care if there were more people or fewer, but Nakamoto, deep down, hopes to see the operator who has been encrypted for three months now and has not been led into his bait.

Closer to Christmas, some of them already have all the communications that operators need so badly, and somewhere the other day they should announce themselves.

Everyone goes home, only Yuta and Johnny remain, who, alas, will not be able to spend this New Year with their relatives. They decided to pass the time by decorating the site with a Christmas theme. Youngho takes out garlands and toys from the attic, while Yuta cleans the snow tree in the courtyard to decorate it. Of course, one cannot do without a snow carnage, but Johnny, due to his height, is less agile, so Nakamoto throws snowballs at him from head to toe.

Decorating something is a favorite of the Japanese. He pleases to create the everyday interior colorful, so on the table near the phone on which he speaks to the operator, there are always animal figures made of wood or any other material, and next to the desk there is a huge pack with Valentines. He works here not so long but has a lot of valentines for that time. He’s a local Don Juan in their little area.

When Nakamoto helped Youngho get shit off the snow, they set about decorating the tree. Yuta does all, and Johnny only gets to the places where the Japanese could not get it. So for an hour of such friendly work, the Christmas tree lights with a sweet and gentle white light, without eating away the eyes, since this time. Suh took a garland with a less bright light. In a few more hours, the entire department is decorated with socks in which you need to put gifts, Santa Claus, which hang on the walls and, having asked the workers in advance not to close their lockers, Yuta and Johnny throw each a packet of sweets and a small handwritten card with wishes for a Happy New Year and Christmas. The guys also arrange a small concert, turning on New Year’s music for the whole department, and dancing their wild dances, because there is no other way how Yuta “flies” on a broomstick, and Johnny imitates playing the guitar, holding his leg. Suddenly Youngho seems to remember something and slaps his forehead, walks over to the speaker, and reduces the volume.

- I forgot that we have a club where you can have a lot of fun every New Year’s Eve. My friends invited me there. I’ll go and call them back, ask if everything is still valid, and let’s go there, - without waiting for an answer, Suh went out the door.

Yuta takes off the jewelry that the elder hung around him and puts them neatly in place. On this New Year’s Eve, he truly wants to call the 2810 operator, but how? Nakamoto slowly walks to the window, looks through the snow-covered window at the sky, noticing the shooting stars. Once upon a time, his parents told him that if you absolutely believe and wish, and when you see a falling star, make a wish - it will surely become true. Nakamoto only smiles with the corners of his lips at these memories, but the Devil may play any trick. He closes his eyes and makes his wish right before Youngho walks back into the room.

- So, I will make you happy - we have a team, so come on, change from work to normal clothes, and let’s go hang out. You will remember this New Year, - Johnny smiles, mysteriously twitching his eyebrows, which annoys the Japanese a little, but it won’t hurt to try, so let’s go.

Changing from suit into a fiery sweater that matches the color of his hair and thick black pants, he places a few jewels in his haircut, braiding them into a ponytail, and fixes his naughty bangs with several invisible ones. When Yuta comes to work in this form, he usually hears sighs behind his back about his amazing image. And the Japanese himself dreams of hearing this from his beloved phone caller, whom, though, he counts on to see tonight, because all these conversations of the elders are true, right?

Johnny, looking at such a Nakamoto, whistled, and thumbs up.

- Now, besides my boyfriend, you will also glow in the club, - he laughs with joy, picking up his bag over his shoulders. Yuta rolls his eyes at this.

- There can only be one star on the tree, and that’s me, - he replies, running his palm through his hair and smirking. The Japanese don’t even need alcohol to be so confident and ready to roll.

- Let’s go then, a taxi is waiting for us, - Youngho points to the exit, letting Yuta ahead.

Saying goodbye to the few on duty who remained there, they disappear from the fence of the station and get into a taxi. Johnny gives the address and the car moves. As the Japanese one understood - they will go to the other edge of the city. They are silent all the way - Suh writes something to friends and seldom shows some memes to the boy, and Yuta looks at the night festive city. People walk in crowds on the street, having fun and wishing everyone a happy New Year. Someone is dressed in costumes, someone is handing out small gifts, street musicians are singing, there are many booths where you can buy hot mulled wine and warm up. In general, the atmosphere of a holiday is in the air. Nakamoto always spent New Year in his hometown of Osaka, Japan, but he was suddenly offered a promotion and needed to move to Korea. Leaving friends and family, he went to a completely unfamiliar country with great fear that he would not be accepted here, but fortunately, he came across such a boss as Taeil - a truly good person: he can be strict, but he never raises his voice and does not scold him for any then minor misses. He also got Johnny as his partner - just like him, a boy who came from America, who has been working here for four years, but this is their first joint New Year, which they spend together.

As he thinks about his friends and family, he doesn’t even recognize how the car has stopped, and it is only when Youngho pinches his side that he wakes up.

- We’re in place, getting out, - Johnny announces, extending his hand. Nakamoto looks around, sees the Neo Club sign, and after thanking the driver, gets out of the car. People around stand and smoke in large crowds, chatting about something of their own, but the entrance to the club is almost deserted, so, after standing in a small line of four people in front of them, they finally enter.

Suh is already waving to people at the table, is almost at the other end of the entrance, and realizing that only he can see where these guys are, he grabs Nakamoto’s hand and drags him through the dancing heat. It surprises the Japanese to see how already drunken enough bodies are trying to move to the music, how everyone huddles together, and only grins at this - he likes this. Twice, someone tries to grab his free hand, but Johnny drags him along so quickly that Yuta, even if he wanted to, could not free himself from Youngho’s tight grip.

When they are already leaving the crowd, Nakamoto sees a sofa where five “ready-made” guys are already sitting. Of all of them, he knows only Taeil - their boss and, in combination, the guy So, who, noticing his workers, waved to them and point to a place on the sofa next to him. Yuta is the first to let Johnny, who is near his boyfriend, kisses him nicely on the nose, and again on the lips, placing his hands on Moon’s hips. Later a Japanese man sits down next to him. All eyes at the table are looking at him, but he leans back on the back of the sofa, straightening his hair and showing with all his appearance that he is dad here.

- This is Nakamoto Yuta, he is Japanese and works with me in the same department. This is the same legendary guy who, appearing on the doorstep, won the hearts of many firefighters. - introduces the guy Johnny, while everyone is looking at the red-haired one. He, it seems, is not nervous in an unfamiliar atmosphere, radiating all his sexuality and blinking innocently.

-Nice to meet you, - he shakes hands with everyone, eyes shooting, making the two strangers blush slightly.

-This is Lucas and Kun, - Suh points to the guys sitting opposite, - they were once in our department, but now they are a few streets away, in the third.

Lucas and Kun smile as they shake the guy’s hands. Yuta realizes that they are only seemingly formidable, especially Lucas. Until he smiled, the Japanese thought he had squeezed something from Yukhei, and that he would now hit his face. Kun is calmer and looks like a bear, Nakamoto wants to pinch his cheeks.

-And this is Yangyang and Hendery - our operators, - continues to introduce Youngho, pointing to the previously blushed guys. They shake hands and quietly squeak “Nice”, and suddenly Yuta recognizes the voice he sometimes heard in the background when talking to operator 2810; Sometimes Yangyang allowed himself to sing WAP in the background, which surprised Nakamoto very much if the kid knew about the translation, but his interlocutor did not seem to be surprised, because a few seconds after the start of singing this song, Kun appeared and scolded the boy. - They will soon be taken to our first floor. We will have about fifteen operators, right, Moonie? - asks Suh to the boy’s, who looks so sweetly at the American with loving eyes.

- Yes, we planned more, but the electrician said that if we put them close to each other, this could affect the network and may not get through to the station, - the boss smiles, and Johnny pulls him into his bear hug under the enthusiastic sighs from everyone sitting at the table.

Then a waiter walks up to them and updates the amount of booze on their table. Yuta hasn’t drunk for a long time, almost a year, but it’s time to remember what the taste of alcohol is.

While talking about work and plans for this year, everyone is well intoxicated, and Lucas offers to play Uno for wishes. Of course, crazy desires come to a drunken head: Taeil, as the first loser, is told to lick alcohol from Johnny’s press; then Hendery loses and they told him to kiss with Lucas for a minute (as Johnny later explains, Hendery has been sighing for a long time towards Lu, but Wong does not see it, so they decided to bring them together). In the last game, Yuta loses, and having seen enough desires, which each time become more and more vulgar, he is ready to uncover. This time Kun makes a wish.

-See the guy with raven hair? Come up to him and get his number, - Qian smiles, leaning back on the sofa. Yuta looks around and sees a lonely guy looking at the dance floor. His “victim”, even with his drunken misty gaze, looks great: a dressed shirt that bares a little collarbone, a harness worn over a shirt and lose pants - just a boy for sore eyes. Not doubting that he can easily cope, Yuta picks up from his seat, but sways, since he is helped by Suh, who is sitting next to him.

Nakamoto walks over to the guy who is sipping a cocktail and just seems to be resting. A Japanese man approaches him and, using all his charm, says:

- You, by any chance, are not a frying pan? Because you’re hot, - Yuta winks and grins. The boy hung, as he runs his eyes over the body of the fireman and rounds them. Shock can be seen in his eyes. He understood something, but Nakamoto is too drunk to find out, he only wants to fulfill the conditions of desire.

The Japanese grinned with his trademark smile.

-Did you swallow your tongue when you saw me, dear angel? - Yuta asks, grinning. The guy is down, as he shakes his head and only briefly asks in a voice a little rougher than his own.

- What do you want from me?

The firefighter smiles.

- Just your number. By the way, your voice is so familiar ... but I do not remember where I could hear it, - at these words the stranger’s gaze becomes insane as if it had been opened.

- Um ... It seemed to you. Have you heard a few similar voices in your life? - in neat handwriting, despite the anxiety inside, the boy writes his number and hands it to the Japanese, if only he dumped. He smiles triumphantly.

- See you again, angelic creature, - Yuta says with satisfaction, hiding in the crowd and leaving Sicheng alone.

“Oh no, it’s hardly him”, Winwin convinces himself. When Yuta is far enough away, Sicheng starts to run and quickly closes the door to the restroom behind him. After washing, he looks at himself in the mirror. He just happened to meet a man with whom he flirted so much, and could not even combine words into a sentence in his presence.

He replays in his head everything that happened a few minutes ago. Dong recognized Yuta only from his tackle since his voice, in reality, sounds much lower than on the phone, which the Chinese like to goosebumps. This is unmistakably the firefighter with whom they have been communicating so sweetly for many months.

Winwin imagined him, but not so fabulous ... He once again washed and dried himself with the napkins that hang nearby. This voice, this wink, this grin ... Sicheng is just an idiot that let him go.

Taking the boy’s number, Yuta says goodbye to him and goes to the company, where everyone is already smeared on the sofa in pairs. He puts down a piece of paper loudly, drawing attention to himself, and sits down next to Lucas. He picks up a piece of paper and reads the contents, and only whistles, showing his thumb. The others clap their hands contentedly. Nakamoto, in his joys, hides the number, or suddenly they want to get drunk to meet his “victim” or call.

They have been drinking and having fun for several hours, but the drunk guys do not have so much strength to have fun until the morning. And as the most sober, Kun takes them all home, calling a taxi. When the turn comes to Utah, he is already snoring on the sofa, and Qian cannot wake him up, drags him home.

As soon as he opens the door of his apartment, he dumps the drunken body on a soft ottoman next to the door, closes the door behind him, trying not to make noise. But the Japanese, as luck would have it, wakes up and resents. Qian barely calms him down by sending him to the shower, he will not let him like that on his sofa.

The firefighter, indignant and stumbling, drunkenly swinging from side to side, stomps in the bathroom's direction. He takes off all his clothes and gets up under a stream of hot running water. It’s very relaxing, but not right now. When he finishes the procedures, he realizes that he cannot get back into the alcohol-soaked things, and wrapping himself in a towel, he goes to look for Kun, who is looking for hangover pills in the medicine cabinet.

- Kun-a, I have nothing to wear now. Maybe you can borrow something from yours? - asks Yuta, leaning on the corner. Qian clicks his tongue, surveying the Japanese from head to toe, and then walks into the room, returns with a shirt and shorts.

- Thank you, Kun-a, - Nakamoto was about to climb with his hugs, but Qian stops him.

- Your pills for the morning and water. I made a bed for you in the hall. Good night, - and leaves the kitchen, turning off the light.

Yuta remains standing in the dark kitchen, and later, it looks that it reaches his drunken brain. He turns on his heel and stomps toward the audience. Turning on the lights, he puts the water and the pills on the coffee table next to him, while he looks for the phone. After spending ten minutes on this, he even finds him near the ottoman in the hall. From the cover sticks out the tail of a piece of paper on which he had previously written a number. The firefighter chuckles contentedly and calls this number back.

He gets to the room, turns off the light, settles down snugly on the sofa and dials the number under the light of his mobile phone, but it takes an eternity before the subscriber answers the call.

- Yes? - mutters a voice with a low tone from sleep, which gives Yuta a herd of goosebumps. He is silent for a minute, listening as the guy on the other side comes back in bed and yawns, emitting a kitty purr. - Are you going to speak, or am I ending the conversation? The voice says.

Nakamoto wakes up immediately.

- No. I’m that guy from the club, remember? - the Japanese asks with a heartbeat. Now the silence goes to the other side. The firefighter hears incomprehensible Chinese words, and he is ready to swear that elsewhere he heard it. -When I looked at you, I feel that I have known you for quite a long time. But I just can’t remember where I saw you.

The second caller is silent and then speaks with a somewhat rougher tone than before.

- As I said at the club, many people have similar voices. Maybe you imagined it. - Yuta hears how loudly his interlocutor swallows saliva. - Why are you not sleeping? Don’t you work?

- Yes, I was going to sleep, because in a few hours on shift. - stretched out on the couch, Yuta whispers in a husky voice, which, as Winwin notes in his head, sounds insanely attractive.

- Mmm ... - all that Sicheng answers. - And I’m going to go to visit my new workplace tomorrow, - says the Chinese, and then realizes what Nakamoto said. The Japanese smile from this.

- So you are one operator who will now sit downstairs with us? - Yuta asks, remembering his mysterious operator.

- You make it sound like you already know who’s going to work there, - Winwin says, stretching on the bed.

- Well, I’m already familiar with three, - the firefighter grins.

- I’ve only seen you with two, - Sicheng says in a surprised voice. Yuta raises an eyebrow at this.

- So you saw me with Hendery and Yanyang? - Nakamoto asks. For a minute, his interlocutor is silent, and Yuta bites his lip in anticipation. And then, either from the past tense, or so the shower worked, the gears spin in the Japanese’s head, and he scrolls the vague, but events of the night. After that, his face lights up with a grin.

- I’m ready to argue, my secret operator, I’ll find you tomorrow, - the firefighter whispers into the phone with the same insolent grin. The silence continues on the other side.

- No! You won’t find me! - the voice is indignant with slight notes of panic.

- You will discover, 2810. Sweet dreams, - dropping the call, Yuta has already thought through the plan for the morning.

Two: one

Yuta thinks about the plan to expose Sicheng so much that he falls asleep an hour before the alarm clock. Of course, he did not hear it, as did the next three repetitions.

Only the disgruntled Kun could wake him up, who on his day off wakes up from the Japanese alarm clock at five-thirty in the morning, and to wake the guy up, he puffs water from the spray bottle and scolds. Nakamoto wakes up with the words “Well, if you don’t know how to drink, then don’t drink!”, after which Qian pauses and just glares at him, pointing to the phone.

The firefighter rises on his elbows, straightening his hair, and reaches out to the glass - the events of last night make themselves felt. Having devastated him, he looks at Kun, who looks at him.

- Good morning to you and Happy New Year, - Yuta mutters hoarsely as he gets out of bed wearing what his mother gave birth to. - And what happened?

- Oh, I’ll tell you what happened. First - you ought to be ashamed of yourself. You couldn’t wait till I leave and after that did your striptease? Second - you drunks had very good fun yesterday, so I brought you back home. Third, - he points to the phone, - this devilish brat will wake up even the dead, but not you, and I, by the way, have a day off. Well, fourthly, now it is clear with whom our cute operator was flirting there.

The Japanese almost falls as he tries to squeeze his leg into his trouser leg.

- In the sense it is clear?

- I have ears, I can hear, and I heard your conversation at night, and all the puzzles came together, - Kun smiles.

Nakamoto looks around the room.

- But how did you know about it?

- Well, my boyfriend works with Winwin. And everyone noticed that he had a delightful conversation with someone and more than once at dinner said that he often talks with a firefighter with a charming, deep voice, - Qian shrugs. - And at night, when you were saying goodbye, you called him operator 2810, and I connected everything in my head.

Yuta runs a hand through his hair, creating even more mess on his head.

- Oh Qian Kun, oh Sherlock boy.

He only bows.

- And now it’s almost half-past six and you’re late for work.

Today, a firefighter’s bowler hat cooks better, because the meaning of what has been said reaches him, and without even saying goodbye, he flies into the corridor with a bullet, barely putting on his shoes and grabbing a backpack, flies to the elevator. Taeil-Hyung, although his friend, even comes to work after noble celebrations, despite his condition. And after such a walk, he will check Nakamoto.

After Yuta dropped the call, Winwin’s sleep vanishes.

He spins in bed for another hour and a half, thinking about something of his own. Sighing, Sicheng sits up, shaking his head and driving away various thoughts. This is not the time to think too much. Then his gaze falls on the clock - only half-past five in the morning. It is very early, but if he lies back now, there is no guarantee that he will fall asleep.

Winwin rises quickly, and from the sharp rush of blood to his head, everything floats before his eyes. Deciding that the morning shower can relax him, he grabs the phone from the nightstand and heads to the bathroom. By turning on his favorite dance playlist, the guy by any means tries to distract himself from what happened. But the year has just begun ...

Today he needs to look presentable, as this will be an acquaintance with a new team, although Sicheng deep inside hopes that he will not meet Yuta among unfamiliar faces. The operators wear a loose dress code - a cute New Year’s sweater and black jeans. Examining himself in the mirror, his spinal cord catches someone’s gaze.

-Aahh, Sicheng-a, have you finally emphasized your sweet side, and not dress like a bad boy? It seems that this firefighter flipped the right switch in your head, - Ten smiles, and then walks to the coffee table where Winwin keeps jewelry, and takes out a cute pendant with a star. He walks up to the guy and puts it around his neck, which makes Dong look so soft that he wants to be crushed.

- You made a doll out of me, but I have to work, - Winwin mutters into his reflection, glancing at Ten.

- I’m doing this so you can finally meet your firefighter and stop taking all the oxygen with your sighs about his beautiful voice, - Chittapon shrugs.

- Oh, okay, it was only a few times, - Sicheng rolls his eyes, and then leaves the room.

- Shall I count? Sorry, but not enough fingers. You started the game yourself, - says Ten following Winwin down the hallway and then looks at his watch. - Aren’t you too early? Only seven in the morning.

- We need to familiarize ourselves with a new place, - Dong replies. I just came early to hide and not crawl out of my corner, rushes through my thoughts.

- Good luck at work and don’t be as hidden as you can be. Especially in front of him, - Ten playfully twitches his eyebrows, to which Sicheng once again rolls his eyes and leaves the apartment.

Having broken off with all his might to run, Yuta still arrives at the department before the chief. Nakamoto is thankful to himself for always keeping a spare set of clothes in his locker. Taking off his coat, the Japanese goes to the shower. It is an awful smell of alcohol on him, which needs to be interrupted with something. Fortunately, for the same reason, he bought himself a vigorous shower gel with a strawberry scent, which also works well as a shampoo.

Changing into an elegant white shirt with puffed sleeves and not buttoning three top buttons, Yuta admires herself in the mirror. He twists and turns and then pulls her on his shoulders a little to reveal the view of the chiseled collarbones. He likes to radiate the energy of his grandfather, and everyone who works with him is already accustomed to such a Japanese, giving him a mountain of compliments every time, as if they are seeing him for the first time.

Suddenly, the phone vibrates in the back pocket of his trousers, and it displays a message from Taeil in their work chat on the screen:

Meeting in ten minutes on the first floor.

Nakamoto closes his locker and, winking at himself in the mirror again, confidently leaves for a meeting with the operators, where he intends to reveal the identity of his beloved.

The department is located not far from his home, so he walks slowly, enjoying the frosty winter air and the New Year’s atmosphere around. With a nice Christmas melody playing through the headphones, Sicheng notices a tree decorated by Yuta and Johnny. He has a well-developed sense of taste, so he has the right to dig into shortcomings because in the previous section it was he who decorated everything, for which their department was called the most elegant and ideal - it was simple and tasteful, nothing superfluous. He walks around the tree from all sides, looking at the multi-colored confetti, which is no longer in fashion, Winwin even manages to spy out among the branches a boot stuck in by someone and a used fire extinguisher, which is hung on a branch by a string. Shaking his head, he realizes that this will be a fun department, and just starts to wait for the others, sitting on a bench and taking out his mobile phone to while away the time playing another strategy.

He does not know how much time passes, but he senses someone’s presence nearby due to the strong smell of alcohol and his gaze. Sicheng abruptly rises from his place, frightening the person looming over him, but it turns out to be none other than Hendery, but something in his form is not right - he does not push up, as usual, but looks happy and without the jokes on his face.

- Can I wish you a good morning, or is it better to say good night? - asks Winwin Deri, who with all his appearance shows that he wants to share information about how he spent the night with the very Lucas, with whom they are spreading the site from the excess of stupid ideas that were in their dark heads. - Well, come on already, tell me ...

- You can’t even imagine who I was with today! We first met at the club, then Kun sent us home, but Lucas told the driver to take us to that hill, from where the most charming view of Seoul opens. And then it turned out that we were both fat-headed fools who were embarrassed to confess their feelings to each other, but did not hesitate to create that crazy game for the entire department. And now we, as it were, are meeting, - the younger almost squeaks with happiness, and Winnie, pleased that everything worked out for his friend, approaches him with open arms.

- And who are you leaving me to? Now, among all of us, I am the only loner left, - Sicheng says in a mock sad voice, moving away from the guy. - You, hike, warmed yourself too much because from you it smells of alcohol.

- No, it was Yukhei-Hyung who gave me alcohol for the courage to give him… - Dery muttered embarrassingly, making Winwin touched.

- Just go ahead without details. Of course, I’m glad for you, but I don’t want to be privy to such secrets.

- Hyung ... - Kunhang nudges him lightly on the shoulder, and Sicheng just smiles his most innocent smile.

- I would advise you to run home, change clothes, and drink something from a hangover, otherwise on the very first day Taeil-Hyung will regret taking us.

- I have half an hour left, - Wong says, confused.

- I think it will be closed for you to go to Lucas. - Winwin points out, playfully twitching his eyebrows. - If you hurry, then I don’t even have to cover your ass.

- After what happened, soft chairs would not have interfered with me, otherwise ... - Sicheng interrupts the guy’s words, pushing him towards the house.

- Save me from the details, feets in hands, and run, - Winwin laughs after the guy who is trying with all his might to walk straight, but God only knows how much alcohol he drank for the courage.

Ten minutes after that, the meeting begins - slowly a small number of people from different departments meet and warmly get to know each other, so this helps Winwin to relax a little and forget about the call.

Yuta loved to meet people, because connections, wherever they are, are never superfluous. He stands at the other end of the corridor and, leaning against the doorframe, drinks coffee, examining the newcomers whom Taeil leads around their department and introduces everything around. His eyes immediately lookout for the same guy, so all the time they walk down the corridor, Winwin nervously straightens the edges of his clothes, feeling the gaze on him. Sicheng madly dislikes being studied. “I’m not an exhibit”, he usually says. But here Nakamoto would argue: in the bright light in the corridor, Winwin’s skin looks like porcelain, his profile when he turns his face to Moon’s words “Look left”, as if the jeweler was doing because of these soft lines of his face, and the face itself is so childish and tender, that it is hard to believe that this guy can flirt and even give advice on how to do it right.

Operators and Taeil walk down the corridor, and when they are already disappearing, then from the Japanese, as if a veil of charm falls. He remembers the gathering and, having made himself another portion of coffee, since he did not sleep, goes to a large hall on the second floor, where they usually have conferences.

It’s a gigantic room with a lot of shapeless pillows to sit on and a big projector that their boss likes to display all kinds of statistics, graphs, and figures about the rescued or something. All seats are almost taken, but suddenly Utah notices Johnny, who waves to him on the other side of the “ocean” of people.

Nakamoto sighs, “Could you take a seat in some other ass-place?”, he thinks to himself, but he’s also very grateful to Youngho that he didn’t forget about him. Having somehow reached, he collapses next to him, almost spilling coffee on himself. The familiar red top of Taeil comes out to the projector who congratulates everyone on the holidays, then he apologizes for disturbing those who, in theory, have a weekend, and begins to sum up the past year. All this lasts about twenty minutes, and when they reach the “sweet” - the operators.

- This year we will have an amazing experience with operators on our site. I believe that they, as the main decoration of our department, will give a different look to the main department of the fire department and increase efficiency, we will be able to receive calls better, since now, so that there is no confusion, we will attach a firefighter to each operator to whom he will report accidents cases. For this, I give you a week so that you have time to make friends and choose your partner. This, of course, I do not by order, because I was told to distribute it myself, but it is within my competence to make your already hard work pleasant. So you have time, and I want you all to get along with each other. That’s all for me. Once again - all happy holidays and the beginning of the New Year, which, I hope, will change for the better for many, - with these words Taeil looks at Johnny, who smiles back with his soft smile and shows his thumbs-up: Moon is very afraid of performances, so Suh always sits down near the stage so that if Taeil gets scared, he can find his beloved face and calm down.

The next to go to the projector is the operators themselves, who introduce themselves and talk about some of their interests. When it comes to Sicheng’s turn, Nakamoto puts his coffee cup on the floor next to the ottoman and, resting his face on his palms, looks straight into the guy’s eyes.

Winwin tries hard not to look at this interesting face, but involuntarily he meets Yuta’s gaze, which is why a herd of goosebumps runs down his spine and he stumbles, and the Japanese at that moment innocently slaps his eyes and, covering his mouth, smiles disgustingly.

Dong prays to all known gods that not all firefighters will be dismantled but noticing that most of the operators he knows are approaching their guys, while others are already openly flirting with unoccupied firefighters when he suddenly notices Doyoung who is trying to spy out the remaining guys.

- Hey, what are you standing here for? Taeyong and Yuta are still free...

- Who did you like more? - asks Doyoung watching Sicheng’s reaction.

- What’s the difference? We don’t choose husbands… - Dong mutters as he tries to hide his gaze from the Japanese studying him, turning his back to him.

- I suggest we must play rock-paper-scissors? - Young smiles. - Who loses - goes to Yuta.

- Why Yuta? Why not Taeyong? - Sicheng’s lips are blowing, blushing at the mere mention of this fireman.

- Sicheng-a, lose, for God’s sake. We want to see you two together, - Hendery’s voice suddenly sounds from somewhere behind, causing Dong to jump up and down and then roll his eyes. Kunhang comes up to them, hugging sleepy Lucas, who even looks like he is ready to go to be photographed on the cover of a magazine right now.

- If you continue to shout so loud, then I will let you down the stairs, Yuta is close ... - mutters Sicheng, blushing.

- Let’s play, - Doyoung interjects. - Rock-paper-scissors!

Do fall out scissors, and at Winnie - paper. A happy couple squeaks from behind, and Young smiles nasty and points to a Japanese who is standing and talking to some guy. Winwin gets a little angry with an unfamiliar cute guy near Nakamoto since he already believed that Yuta was in his chains. Sicheng sighs and blushes and heads towards the Japanese.

Coming closer, Sicheng strains his ears to hear the conversation, but when he comes closer, the conversation stops abruptly, - Nakamoto smiles at the guy and nods, saying goodbye. Dong mentally hates him, because even when he smiles, it’s a smile with his whole face, and it makes him feel at home next to the Japanese — safe and comfortable. Sicheng hates to blush.

- Did you want something, dear angel? - Yuta smiles and looks away so as not to embarrass the boy like that.

- I wanted to ask if you are free? - stammering, says Sicheng quickly.

- Alas, but no. One boy took my heart a few months ago, and it seems he has no intention of returning it at all, - Nakamoto shrugs.

- Damn it, I mean, do you have an operator? - Dong blushes, trying to look only at Hendery, who stands in the background with his fingers crossed. Following the gaze of the operator, the Japanese smirks and, while the guy has not yet turned, wraps his arm around his waist.

- Let’s go and discuss, - says Yuta hugging.

If it had been someone else, Sicheng would have already run away and yelled at the entire site, but either falling in love dulls his brains, or is he so afraid - he allows the Japanese to take him to their call waiting room. All the way, Nakamoto holds Sicheng’s waist, stroking the thin waistline with his thumb and tapping with the rest of his fingers. Already just before the door, he releases the guy, opening the door in front of him and letting him in.

The room is medium but quite cozy: Christmas decorations are scattered everywhere, various soft toys that were given by children for the firefighter’s day, and many photos of Yuta with his friends from Osaka.

Winwin looks around the room with interest as his hands rest almost weightlessly on his waist again.

- If you’re interested, you can take and look, - Nakamoto says, forcing the introvert Sicheng up to this point to run like scalded from object to object, looking around. Then he seems to remember his reason for being here, and Dong looks around absently.

- Why did you bring me here?

- So that you do not blush because of your friends, - smiles Yuta, - well, I need to find out how much more time you will play cat and mouse? I’ve already declassified you, operator 2810, - Nakamoto approaches the guy, runs his fingers over his hand. - Why did you start this game?

- I thought everything would remain at the level of flirting. I was very afraid, - lowering his gaze, mutters Winnie. The Japanese man tilts his head to one side, gently pushes the guy’s chin with his fingers, lifting it.

- What were you afraid of?

- That in reality, you don’t like me, - Sicheng says, looking into the eyes.

- Why? - Yuta’s tone of voice becomes more alarming, and his hand is already holding Dong’s hand, fingering the guy’s fingers.

- Well then, in the club ... You were incredible. And you know, that day I made a wish to find my soul mate, but no one came up to me all evening. And when I was already drunk, but still thinking, you approached. At first, I thought it was just another guy for the night, but when you called me ... I sharply sobered up. I was scared to tell you my number, although the drunks remember little, - Sicheng says while Nakamoto listens to him intently, intertwining their fingers.

- And when I saw you, I realized that I would be like an ugly duckling - only I would spoil the whole impression of you. You look like a prince from a fairy tale, and I’m just a free... - unexpectedly, Dong’s confession is interrupted by a soft kiss on the lips from the Japanese, who gently crushes the lips of the guy opposite who have not yet closed.

- Don’t talk about yourself like that, you’re wonderful. You are a little riddle that I have found and I want to solve the rest of my life. I want to love you madly, making you blush, because then your face takes on indescribably cute features, I want to fill you with love in every sense of this phrase; I want to hear your delightful voice; I want to take away every fear and anxiety you have; I want you to feel close it’s cozy with me, because I’m your home, - all this is accompanied by Yuta’s kisses on various parts of Winwin’s face, leaving not a single part of the skin without a gentle touch of his lips.

Sicheng blushes at these words.

- So you’re not mad at me for my stupidity? - Dong asks when the Japanese man stops kissing the operator and puts his arm around the waist, pressing him against the wall.

- Of course not, silly, - the Japanese laughs. - I can’t be angry with such a miracle. By the way, can you teach me a couple of flirting tricks? Are you my operator now?

- I’m yours for a long time, you just didn’t know about it, - Sicheng chuckles while gently kissing Yuta. - And you have not yet learned how to flirt with such a guy?

- Well, why not? I need a professional opinion.

Winwin chuckles, waiting for Yuta’s answer.

- Can I borrow a kiss? I promise I will return.

Dong blinks his eyes for a moment, and then pulls the Japanese into a kiss, biting his lip slightly.

- Would such an answer suit you?

- So ... I did well?

- A kiss is not enough? I expected everything, but not this. It was powerful. You make me happy, - smiles Sicheng, reluctantly moving away from Yuta.

They have a special love - they don’t need a lot of words, just a few touches or the light presence of the shadow of a kiss on each other’s lips is enough to feel loved and desired.

#fanfic #nct #nct 127 #wayv #winwin #yuta #taeil #johnny #lucas #kun #yangyang #hendery #ten #firefighter #call #attempt to flirt

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quotablefanfiction · 7 years

Quote

You’re a great deus ex machina, Hobbes,” Susie whispers, because the word “miracle” trips up on her tongue. She gives Hobbes’s belly a quick rub in gratitude, and swears she feels him purr.

Susie to Hobbes (chp. 1)

Hello Operator, Please Give Me Number Nine by Starlingthefool (AO3) Calvin & Hobbes – Teen #Nerdiness #Deus Ex Machina #Calvinball #Ingmar Bergman references #Death as a character

The lesson here, Susie thinks, is that tricking Death is tricky business. How do you outwit the personification of oblivion? Chess, obviously, won’t be the answer.

Or: Susie plays Calvinball with Death.

#fanfiction #quote #Calvin & Hobbes #Susie Derkins #Hello Operator Please Give Me Number Nine #Starlingthefool

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marypsue · 4 years

Link

If you feel like reading an absolutely stunning idea executed beautifully and you don’t need your heart today, may I recommend this fic?

#i happened upon it and devoured it in no time at all #and then my face was all wet for some reason???#Calvin and Hobbes #i may need like a. fic recs tag or something #if this is going to become a regular feature on the blog #i just...there is so much good fic out there you guys

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multiverseforger · 4 years

Text

Fav game character

Tina and her parents were sold to Hyperion to become test subjects for Jack's slag mutation experiments, an event which led to the deaths of her parents. She escaped their fate using a grenade that she had hidden in her dress at her mother's insistence, and once she was free of Hyperion's reach she vowed revenge on the man that had sold her family: Flesh-Stick.

Involvement

Borderlands 2

Tiny Tina's demolitions expertise is called into action when a Hyperion supply train believed to be carrying a Vault key needs to be stopped. With that objective in sight, she then sets the Vault Hunters to the task of finding two rockets (which she refers to as 'badonkadonks') to carry a 'suicide'-bomber toy each, and then to set them on target.

Her collaboration with the Vault Hunters continues when she has them gather items and guests for a very special tea party. During the final mission Tina will contact the Vault Hunters and wish them luck in stopping Hyperion and even reads them a poem repeatedly telling the Vault Hunters to 'kill Jack'.

Mr. Torgue's Campaign of Carnage

Tina appears in a supporting role in Mr. Torgue's Campaign of Carnage. Initially she is hired by Mad Moxxi to help the Vault Hunters train prior to battling Motor Momma, but also asks their assistance in obtaining the autograph of her third favorite mass-murderer, Sully the Stabber, as well as walking her "puppy", a Badass Fire Skag named Enrique. She also provides commentary on many of the Vault Hunters' actions throughout the course of the DLC.

Tiny Tina's Assault on Dragon Keep

Tina takes on the role of the 'Bunker Master' for the game 'Bunkers & Badasses', where she is shown to be bad at this, by fumbling in such ways as creating impossible fights early on and not balancing the gameplay in certain areas. The real problems underlying Tina's mental state (at that time) start becoming more apparent as the player progresses, being obsessed with eating only crumpets and constantly trying to insert a manifestation of the now deceased Roland whenever she wants to, to the dismay of the other Vault Hunters. Tiny Tina's character develops over the course of the campaign and she learns to accept Roland's death.

Borderlands: The Pre-Sequel

Tina makes her first appearance during the game while Lilith was interrogating Athena, inviting the Vault Hunters to play another round of Bunkers and Badasses, but was turned down. Later, after Athena finishes telling her story, Tina introduces herself and requests Athena to tell a story about fighting a raid boss. As she had no idea what a raid boss was, she "came up" with a story about fighting one (in this case, the raid boss being an enhanced version of The Sentinel). After that, Tina requests Athena to tell the story of her working for Handsome Jack again.

Borderlands 3

At the time of Borderlands 3, Tina is presumed to be around 20 years old. She is still part of the Crimson Raiders B-Team along with Brick and Mordecai. The team is hired by Wainwright Jakobs to rescue his partner Sir Hammerlock, but after they fail to report back on their progress, Jakobs requests the Vault Hunter to go The Anvil to investigate setting up the story mission Hammerlocked. Tina's code name during the mission is 'Crunk Bunny'. Tina requests 'ingredients' for her 'Pizza' (bomb), composed of 'sauce' (nitroglycerin), 'onions' (wires) and 'ham' (a detonator). She then asks the Vault Hunter to deliver the pizza, which is to blow up the door to the structure where Hammerlock is being held. After successfully rescuing Hammerlock, she declares that the B-team's work is done and they leave Eden-6. Tina is found later on Devil's Razor back on Pandora, where she or Brick will give the mission Boom Boom Boomtown. She asks the Vault Hunter for help in winning back their new home and base of operations, recently named by Tina as "Boom Town", by fighting off COV that have been sneaking in thru a tunnel that Brick is keeping the COV locked inside.

Appearances

Borderlands 2

Mr. Torgue's Campaign of Carnage

Tiny Tina's Assault on Dragon Keep

Commander Lilith & the Fight for Sanctuary

Borderlands: The Pre-Sequel

Borderlands 3

Quotes

"Come on iiiin, you are missing the Fuun!"

"All around the Sta-actus plant, the stalker chased the bandit, the stalker thought 'twas all in fun - POP! Goes the bandit!"

"Oh haiiii!"

"Roland told me you were comin' - I still owe him for all that buttcrap with General Rancid. So, you gotta hijack a train, hunh? Chiiild's play! Lemme introduce you to my ladies."

"Runnin', runnin', runnin', I'm runnin' over here, run, run, run-run, run."

"This here's Mushy Snugglebites, and this is Felicia Sexopants. These fiiiine-ass womens could stop that train for yas, but I'ma need their badonkadonks first, and they got stoled by the bandits a few days ago. Go get 'em!"

"Naptime!"

"That's right, bitches - my big brudder's about to teach you some MANNERS. Nobody steals Mushy Snugglebites' badonkadonk and lives!"

"That's Mushy Snugglebites' badonkadonk. She's my main squeeze. Lady's got a gut fulla' dynamite and a booty like POOOW!"

"Got the badonkadonks? Best day evaaaa. Bring 'em back here and I'll use 'em to make some fine-ass damsels who can hijack that train for yas."

"Hey I told ya'z to get outta heeya, get out or do I gotta shank a bitch?"

"Get-outta-my-shop-or-I'll-punch-yo-butt. That's-how-Tiny-Tina-roll."

"(Singing) Put a little bomb in the hot ass damsel, blow stuff up and make people die."

"I'm a little teapot, bloody and cut. Here is my handle and here is my butt.*explosion noise* Oops."

"Squishy. Squishy squishy squishy."

"Oh daaaaaayum, you lookin' good, ladies. Let's get to work."

That's right. Twin sisters, man. Hhhahhhhhh. Take 'em. Take 'em take 'em take 'em take 'em."

"Just put my damsels near the choo-choo track and set 'em off! Good plan? Great plan!"

"You're cordially invited BITCH!!!"

"When you are ready to begin the Tea-Party, please smack Mister Flesh Stick in his bitch face."

"Gonna eat so many goddamn crumpets, it's going to be a Crumpocalypse."

"Ten... Nine..." *launches rockets* "I got bored."

"BURN ALL THE BABIES!!!!!"

(Cute yawning noise)

"Make it RAAAAAAAAAAAAAIN!"

"Sup, sucka? It's Tina. I wrote you a poem and it goes a little somethin' like this BREAK IT DOWN. Ahem. Kill Jack. Kill Jack. Kill Jack kill Jack kill Jack KIIIILL JAAAAACK! Kill Jack. A poem by Tiny Tina."

"Climb the pipe to the train or you'll go insane wut wut. That's a rap song I wrote."

"Get some cookies, so you can eat 'em and grow up big and strong and kick Piston in the butt-butt."

"Real badasses eat chocolate chip cookies, I'ma gonna get that tattooed across my back in Old English font."

"Wait a minute. Those cookies weren't chocolate chip. Those...are...raisins. WHYYYYYY-HY-HYYYYY?! SHAWTY, DESTROY ALL THE FOOD DISPENSERS! WIPE THE RAISIN ABOMINATIONS OFF THE MAP! I JUST WANTED CHOCOLATE CHIP COOKIES! WHY DO BAD THINGS HAPPEN TO GOOD PEOPLE?"

"Ohmygodohmygodohmygod. Do you know who just arrived in Beatdown? SULLY THE STABBER! He's my THIRD favorite mass-murderer in the ENTIRE WORLD! You HAVE to go get his autograph for me."

"Get his signature on this. Please. PLEASEpleasepleasepleasepleaseplease! If you don't get his autograph I'm gonna DIEEEEE. He's my favoritest. He killed every living person on the Bathymas with nothing but a rusty butterknife. If you don't take it I'm gonna start crying. Please. Please. Please. Please. Please. [making a song out of it] oh-baby please please PLEASE! That was 'Please' by Tiny Tina with Vault Hunter on bass."

"He said...no? Well. There's only one thing to do -- look him in the eye, nod politely, and KILL THE LIVING CRAP OUT OF HIM!"

Commander Lilith & the Fight for Sanctuary

While idle

Some of the idle chats are mission related and can't be heard again once the mission in question is completed.

"You come up in my face, and you DON'T GOT BOMB PARTS, you KNOW I'm throwing hands."

"Oh, hello! I didn't see you there. I was just on an important mission to save my friends and AREN'T YOU SUPPOSED TO BE DOING THE SAME THING?!"

"Gonna go blat-blat-blat on the vine-freaks. \n Rat-tat-tat till their brain leaks. \n Chill, girl, just droppin' some bars. Go do the thing."

"I wanna shoot the cannon again! AGAIN! But Lil said no. BLEEPING CURSE WORDS!"

"You kiddos killed that butt-bot so, so good! (cackle) Butt-bot."

"Come on, Mordy. You got this! You gonna be all right."

"MORDY'S ALL BETTER AND ELLIE FIXED THE CAMP'S COFFEE MACHINE AND I CAN'T STOP YELLING ABOUT EITHER ONE OF THOSE THINGS!"

"Yo yo yo. You kill that vineyman up on vineyville yet?"

"I left some reeaaal sexy bombs back on Sanctuary. Oh, just thinkin' bout 'em... come on, think about 'em with me. Yeeeeeah. Together now. Hohhhhh."

"That. Was. The BIGGESTEST BOOM OF ALL TIME! Gotta give it to Lilly-of-the-valley, she knows how to kill a baddo in style."

"Seriously, though. Vaulty-Vault, you was there for me in the dark times. That's fo' life."

"So, just saying, it's probably my birthday, and you ain't got me nothing. Mini-moonshot cannon. Just wanna put that in your head."

Notes

The photo of Tina and Roland

She is introduced as an old friend of Roland's and she has a picture of them together in her room. Roland also mentions beforehand that, "I've saved her life a few times, and she has saved mine more times than I can count."

In Borderlands 2, there are a few unique weapons that are associated with Tiny Tina. These weapons include pink hearted camouflage and/or stuffed bunny image decals.

Teapot

Cobra

Boom Puppy

Tina's voice is performed by Ashly Burch, sister of Anthony Burch - lead writer of Borderlands 2. (The two are also a part of the web series Hey Ash, Whatcha Playin'?.) She is also credited with the voice of the cursed gun, Bane.

Tina has unusual gender-specific dialogue, referring to both male and female Vault Hunters as "girl". She also makes a number of sexual comments in an appreciative manner in regards the female members of her tea party, whilst during the Assault on Dragon Keep storyline she confesses to liking Maya in The Siren's invitation, asking if Maya likes her in turn. Additionally, her original motivation for helping the Vault Hunters train for Mad Moxxi was going to be due to her having a crush on Mad Moxxi.

Tina switches verbal mannerisms frequently. Her speech styles include a stereotypical inner-city American speech pattern, little girl speech patterns, stereotypically pretentious British English speech, to randomly violent and murderous speech, and others.

Trivia

There is an Easter egg related to Hey Ash, Whatcha Playin'? in the Mr. Torgue's Campaign of Carnage. On the back of Tiny Tina's bus is a pixel drawing of Papa Burch riding a unicorn from the HAWP episode 'Sleep Is Death'.

Roland recognizes her as one of the greatest demolitions experts on Pandora and a picture of the two can be seen inside of her home.

Tiny Tina is mentioned by Brick on a mission in Sawtooth Cauldron as he recalls carrying her on his shoulders as they fought together. In the end credits, it is shown that they worked together again in this manner cleaning out the remaining Hyperion forces.

ExotropiaTina has an intermittent exotropia (lazy eye) in her left eye. This was originally due to a glitch, but the developers enjoyed it, so they purposefully left it in. This has also passed on to Borderlands 3, as her left eye will occasionally twitch while talking.

In NowGamer, an interview revealed that there is part of a mission removed from the main game involving Tina. Originally, when telling of Roland's death, the players were to head out to Tiny Tina's home and tell her the sad news. It described her being deeply affected by it, thanking the players for telling her, asking them to leave, and locking herself in her workshop to mourn. Anthony Burch, lead writer and the source of this news, says they regret they could not include this scene into the game. It was supposed to be the only moment in the game she loses her peppy mania [1].

Her tea party place card is labeled "Lady Tina of Blowupyourfaceheim"

On May 24, 2013, Tina took over the @ECHOcasts Twitter (previously owned by Krieg).

Tiny Tina's parents have officially been confirmed dead as of the sixth episode of Inside the Box, entitled "Fart Jokes and Tragedy".

In the Commander Lilith & the Fight for Sanctuary DLC, Tiny Tina, Mordecai and Brick form a team simply named "The B-Team".

Tiny Tina refers to Brick as "Brick-papa" and Mordecai as "Mordy-mom". This is further mentioned when Brick says "Don't talk like that to your mom." to Tina.

It is revealed in Sheega's All That that Sheega is an ex-girlfriend of Tiny Tina.

ECHO logs in Devil's Razor reveal that Tiny Tina has dated multiple individuals, broke up with all of them, and staged a wedding to make money from the wedding gifts sent by her exes.

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