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unfriendthanzeer · 4 months ago

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Part One - Dawn

On a fine Sunny day in July 1997, a small quiet village noticed a mother dragging' two little toddlers, two three-year-old twin girls, to a kindergarten daycare situated at the heart of it. They were passing hastily next to a small pond where they can hear the sound of the creek gushing water through the white rocks. They could also see a vibrant Kingfisher, posted on a tree branch, eagerly waiting to snatch its bread- the fish, dwelling in the pond like forever. Although the daycare was a refurbished one-story building, not much to contemplate, there was a partially destroyed well outside its premises and also a big water tank full of guppies and fancy other breeds. There was a 'Welcome to KPS' banner placed on the arch of the building to greet the toddlers who were joining on their first day at the daycare center. Yet hardly possible was for the toddlers to comprehend what it says. The twins were not whining much but there can be seen 'sad' written on their bright faces. They are horrified and crept like any children would on the first few days of daycare. Parents were pushing their kids inside the place but not least outside their hearts. Asna, the younger twin, while the caretaker auntie removed her backpack, noticed a dull and introverted boy sitting on the pony ride toy, swinging back and forth, not looking anywhere but at the floor up front. As the new children saw the new shiny toys their thoughts shifted towards wonderland, like they don't need any other place anymore, not even their own home. Still, Asna was skeptical about his first "boy", perhaps 'scared' is the right word to describe the emotion of a girl at that age. Time passed by, and everyone met each other in their childish 'ways', had milk and biscuits, played with new toys, and took a nap. The clock ticked three-and-a-half. Before they got packed up by the caretaker auntie, they had their 'beauty spa' and tinker. The parents of the kids were eagerly at the gate to embrace their little children and rush home. Qulsum Beevi, the mother of Asma and Asna was delighted to know from the auntie that the children easily coped with the new environment. It was also a refreshing day for their mom because she did chores peacefully except that there wasn't the vibe of her children. When they got home and their mother asked what happened at kindergarten, they had so much to tell. Asma vividly explained all the toys she played with, the boy who kept crying all day, and how she fell. Asna said, "there was a boy on a horse all day". Perhaps that's what the young mind could hold grasp of that strange child. She may have thought she was familiar with him like she has seen him somewhere but she never would have imagined how a life-changer the lad would become for her!

"Silence", shouted Thanzeer, the lonely boy on the pony toy who has become the class leader now, "I will surely write on the board whoever talks". He was assigned on a mission by the Malayalam teacher Hima, who probably be gossiping or babbling at the cafeteria, to write down the names of the kids talking in class. It's been three years now since the first day of school. Thanzeer has grown up to be a "gentleman'. Asna was caught talking, about how was her day yesterday at the movies, to Robin who is the "Arch-Enemy" of Thanzeer. Thanzeer and Robin are forever participating in the "Game of Thrones". "If you keep talking to that Goblin, I swear on my mo..., I swear I will write both of your names," said Thanzeer to Asna and Robin. Sneaky little Robin knows Thanzeer won't write Asna's name. "Go on then, write our names", Robin said. That was when Akash was caught poking Jayasree for a colored pencil. Thanzeer dashed to the board and wrote his name. "I didn't talk!", Akash shouted. "Now you did," said Rajesh. His name was scribed on the board too. Everyone laughed uncontrollably. Silence!, Thanzeer added. The bell rang, "Don't think you all are saved", everyone else had that sarcastic smile, " one day I will get the chance to borrow the "choral stick from the principal's room", the smiles faded together. Thanzeer sits with Asna at lunch, or perhaps all the time. They had a special bond, they were inseparable, and they were "the partners in crime". Robin was jealous of the friendship. Everyone was jealous of Thanzeer and Asna being together, primarily because her name was never written on the board for talking and Asna helps Thanzeer with his assignments. The teachers would not punish them brutally with sticks, but a little spank was cringe to handle. Thanzeer had school-day-song practice with Jayasree, Rajesh, and Ajeesh. Robin and Asma came to Asna to tell their 'Grand plan to cease Thanzeer's Reign of Name-Scribing'. "Asna, listen to this", Asma continued "We can stop Thanzeer from writing our names on the chalkboard by giving gifts our father sends to us from Singapore". "It's called er... briding", Robin added. "Why can't we just stop talking during that time" Asna added, "it's cheating, besides I like him and he is my best friend!". "Not ours", Robin said. "If you don't agree with us now we will tell Hima miss that he once came to school with bubble gum", said Asma. Asna told her "How could you prove it, He will say you are lying". Robin smirked and said, "the whole class has agreed to testify". Asna got into a swirl of tension and confusion. Asma said: "It's just a small thing, you are giving him presents, there is no bad in it, right Robin?". Robin nodded displeased. So Asna agreed that it be kept a secret. Thanzeer eventually listened to Asna. Asna gave him color chalks, lego sets, Singapore-made pencils, color balls, etc... On the contrary, he accepted it without knowing that it was part of an "evil" plan. They had their wondrous moments. Thanzeer would do anything under the sky for her. He thought he will be with her forever but he never knew how a life changer Asna would become for him!

"Everyone, Sit upright!", a silence followed, "Everyone means Thanzeer!". Thanzeer erected his neck from the bench where he was lying down his head and daydreamed, as the teacher was preaching Physics to a half-woke class. He was months away from completing school and joining a college. He doesn't have any idea what he should pursue. He hasn't found his taste, his passion, his spark yet. He is in fact having nightmares instead of daydreams, thinking about the crush, the betrayal, the new one. Yes, Facebook has eaten a good part of his life from him. Yet he was attentive to class. Yet the thought of Asna never crossed his mind in the new millennium. Even when there was a girl named Asna in his class. (to be continued...)

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robininthelabyrinth · 3 years ago

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Prompt: Wei Wuxian has achieved time travel! He's gonna fix so many broken things. Unfortunately, WWX has miscalculated a teensy tiny variable and instead of arriving in his original 15yo body in Lotus Pier, he's crash landed in MXY's tiny 7~8yo body at Mo Manor. But no problem, he can fix this if he can just find his real body. (Meanwhile, Yunmeng Jiang's head disciple is acting the wrong kind of childish, aka, Mo Xuanyu is having the weirdest day of his young life.)

Switcheroo - ao3

Mo Xuanyu thought that this Wei Wuxian person whose body he’d stolen must have been a really interesting person, mostly because he’d been here for three days so far and nobody’d noticed the switch yet.

Possibly it had to do with the fact that Mo Xuanyu still wasn’t exactly sure how he’d stolen the body – he’d just gone to sleep in the shed, same as always, and then he’d woken up in the softest bed he’d ever encountered in his life…no, softer than even his dreams! He’d thought it over and concluded that he must have died from cold out in the shed, turned into a fierce ghost out of resentment, grown powerful (somehow), then stolen some rich young master’s body when they weren’t paying close enough attention and, once he’d possessed the body, promptly lost all his memory of being a ghost.

It seemed like the only logical course of events.

He was very sorry about it, though. Wei Wuxian seemed like a nice, if very unusual person.

The first day, Mo Xuanyu had barely even noticed the body-switch, being quite so enamored of the soft bed he was in – he’d refused to get out of bed at all, declaring that he was going to lie in and sleep for a century or more, and the people who’d come to the door to get him didn’t beat him or anything over it, but rather just laughed or rolled their eyes and then left him to it. Luckily, at the time, he’d just assumed he was dead or something and proceeded to ignore everything in favor of napping.

He only acknowledged that he was alive later in the afternoon, when his stomach started growling – it seemed like a very unlikely thing for a dead man’s stomach to do.

Mo Xuanyu had by that point figured out that he wasn’t himself anymore, which was fine since he didn’t much like himself; he’d also figured out, through looking himself over, that he was old now. At least fifteen or sixteen, which was twice the age he last remembered himself being. That was fine, too, though: being older meant that he was stronger and faster and would be better able to handle it when people wanted to beat him or something. Most importantly, though, it meant he was old enough to enter the kitchen on his own!

Mo Xuanyu already knew that he wasn’t allowed to eat at the main table, being only the bastard son of the younger daughter, and the cook back at home was a fierce woman who didn’t allow anyone under the age of ten into her kitchen; as a result, he had to wait for his mother to bring him back some food, and it was always cold and not quite enough. Now, though, since he was older, he figured he might as well try to go to the kitchen and fill his belly that way.

Luckily, while his current body’s house was much bigger than the Mo house, all houses were generally built along the same lines, so it wasn’t hard to find the kitchen. Everyone there laughed when he showed up, even though he’d tried to be very quiet and sneak in and then screwed it up by tripping over his own feet – it seemed like everyone thought he was doing it on purpose to be funny – and then the cooks gave him a meal of his own that was hot and fresh and wonderful.

He'd wolfed it down.

“Honestly, Wei Wuxian, you eat like a hungry ghost, you’d think the Jiang clan starves you,” one of them scolded him, but with a smile, and from that Mo Xuanyu learned that the rich young master was called Wei Wuxian and that he lived with the Jiang clan. The different surnames confused him a little, but he didn’t dare ask any questions about it, so he just stuffed his mouth and pretended that was the reason he couldn’t answer.

No one questioned it.

No one questioned it when he went wandering all around instead of doing whatever chores or duties he’d been assigned, either. Someone had actually seen him hovering by a door and asked him to bring back a pheasant when he returned, so out of lack of better options he’d headed outside to try to go find one.

He had a pretty good time walking around the forest, then remembered what he’d been asked and chased the pheasants for a while, without success . Fortunately, he then got lucky and stumbled over an old snare that had three pheasants caught inside, so he’d picked up the whole box and carted it back home.

“Three,” one of the boys in purple-blue marveled as he saw Mo Xuanyu walking towards the kitchen. “You know, people say that the birds around the Lotus Pier have gotten too smart to be caught easily, but look at our da-shixiong; he makes it look easy!”

From this, Mo Xuanyu could figure out that Wei Wuxian was (apparently!) part of a cultivator clan, apparently located at a place called the Lotus Pier, and that he was the oldest or at least head disciple, to boot. He knew all about cultivator clans from his mother, since apparently his father had been a sect leader, and that meant he knew enough to call the other boy ‘shidi’ as he passed, making the other boy beam happily.

It also meant that when he chanced a guess and called the young woman in a pretty pink dress who waved at him ‘shijie’, she smiled and nodded, which meant to him that he’d done the right thing.

“I heard you slept even more of the morning away than usual,” she told him, but didn’t seem too upset about it. “I bet that means you’ll be skipping dinner and staying up all night, hmm?”

Mo Xuanyu had no intention of skipping dinner if it was anything like what the kitchens had given him earlier, actually, but while he was still trying to figure out a way to say that, she said, leaning in close to whisper, “It’s probably a good idea, anyway – Mother and Father are fighting again. Just go to the kitchens to grab something…I promise I’ll make it up to you with some soup tomorrow, pork ribs and lotus roots, your favorite. All right?”

“Shijie, you’re the best,” Mo Xuanyu said effusively, willing to die for her at once, and she laughed and tousled his hair.

“I am,” she said, looking happy. “And if my little A-Xian stays good and obedient, I may even feed him.”

She did, too, the next day when he finally tore himself out of the beautiful wonderful soft bed and went to go find her. She’d made him soup, just as he’d promised, and laughed and laughed for some reason: apparently, she interpreted him being quiet and not talking too much as his efforts to be ‘good and obedient’, which was apparently so out of the ordinary as to be a deliberate joke.

From this, Mo Xuanyu concluded that the young master he’d possessed, Wei Wuxian, was a jackass.

Well, perhaps that was a bit harsh. Arrogant and self-centered, talented and brave and probably brilliant, definitely charming and maybe even kind, but also spoiled and inclined to step on other people to get where he wanted to go, if Mo Xuanyu had to guess – why else would everyone constantly react as if him not being obnoxious was the world’s biggest stunt?

No one seemed to expect anything of him at all: he didn’t do any chores, and no one batted an eyelid; he didn’t go where he was told, and everyone just sighed…at one point the sect leader himself came and patted him on the head, scolding him in a joking tone that he hadn’t seen him leading any of the training the way he was supposed to – but when Mo Xuanyu quailed, he’d burst out laughing, telling ‘Wei Wuxian’ to stop pretending to be a scared little rabbit, that it was fine if he’d gotten distracted by some clever new invention or whatever, that someone else would handle it, that he should take as long as he needed.

Mo Xuanyu had pasted a great big smile on his face through force of effort and agreed cheerfully.

The sect leader had accepted it.

Probably a jackass, but clearly a beloved one, Mo Xuanyu thought to himself as he packed up clothing and a few small treasures that no one would miss, a little wistful. The scare of the whole encounter had put things in perspective – he wasn’t going to be able to keep up this sort of façade for long. In fact, he was shocked he’d managed it so long already; surely, no matter how many pranks this Wei Wuxian played, no matter how childishly he behaved, surely someone should’ve noticed that he was actually an eight-year-old masquerading as a sixteen-year-old?

Mo Xuanyu couldn’t decide whether it was sad that no one paid too much attention or something that this Wei Wuxian fellow had brought down on his own head by being so consistently annoying.

Either way, there was nothing for it – he was going to have to leave.

Now that part was really sad: he’d never in his life had such good food, or such a soft bed, or even so many people that just seemed plain old happy to see him as since he’d arrived in this place. But he wasn’t the one all those things were for; he was just a sad ghost possessing a person, and if he stayed, the cultivators would eventually figure out something was wrong and exorcise him.

Probably violently.

Mo Xuanyu probably deserved it, too, but despite that he wasn’t willing.

So he packed up what he could and headed out.

He got all the way to the gate before a new purple-clad disciple – about his age, if he had to guess, and holding a pack like he’d just come back from a trip, with a scowl on his face – called out for Wei Wuxian.

Mo Xuanyu waved a little, hoping that that would be enough.

For the first time, it wasn’t.

The boy’s face settled into an even deeper scowl.

“Hey, what’s wrong with you?” he demanded. “Wei Wuxian! You’re acting all weird – hey! Where are you going?”

Mo Xuanyu was running away, obviously. He wasn’t about to get tied up and exorcised, no thank you.

He didn’t think he’d make it, but it was still worth trying.

Sure enough, the purple-clad boy who was probably called Jiang Cheng, based on what everyone was calling out as they ran by, got tired of running and jumped on his sword, and there was no way Mo Xuanyu would be able to outrun a sword, not even if he tried as fast as he –

Someone picked him up.

It wasn’t Jiang Cheng.

Mo Xuanyu turned his head and stared.

It must be some sort of yao, he thought. Humans were definitely not that pretty.

“Lan Wangji!” Jiang Cheng howled. “What are you even doing in the Lotus Pier?! Put my shixiong down!”

The rescuer, Lan Wangji, frowned a little at Mo Xuanyu.

Mo Xuanyu didn’t know exactly what expression he ought to be making in return, and was a bit too dazed to even dare to guess. He’d just noticed that they were flying – flying! on a sword! – and he was clutching onto this Lan Wangji’s shoulders for dear life.

“You are not Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji said. His voice sounded very definitive.

“Uh,” Mo Xuanyu said. “Sorry? Please don’t drop me.”

“I will not. What is your name?”

“Mo Xuanyu,” Mo Xuanyu admitted, and Lan Wangji’s eyes widened as if that meant something to him – except it couldn’t, of course, because Mo Xuanyu was sure he’d never met anyone even remotely like this Lan Wangji fellow in his life. “I don’t remember taking his body. I’m sorry. Can you not exorcise me? I don’t want to die.”

Lan Wangji was silent for a long moment.

He was still flying very fast, and Jiang Cheng was still following, shouting out curses and demands that he stop, not that Lan Wangji was listening.

“There will be no exorcism,” he finally said, and Mo Xuanyu exhaled in relief. “We will, however, fix this.”

“…we?”

“Wei Ying and myself.”

Mo Xuanyu nodded. That sounded more likely than anyone relying on his participation.

“Where are we going?” he asked. Jiang Cheng was falling further and further behind.

“Mo Village.”

Mo Xuanyu tensed up at once.

“You will not be left there,” Lan Wangji clarified, and – how did he know that Mo Xuanyu didn’t want to be left there? “But we must collect Wei Ying, who I suspect is currently in your body.”

“In my…I’m still alive?”

Lan Wangji was quiet again, and then said, “Yes. And you will remain so.”

That was reassuring, mostly.

“Okay,” Mo Xuanyu said, and found that he mostly felt relieved. He’d be very happy to have his normal body back again, if possible, especially if he didn’t have to stay in Mo Village…“Wait, if I don’t have to stay there, where will I go? I don’t have anywhere else to go, unless my father comes back for me. He's a sect leader –”

“He will not, and even if he did, you should not go with him. Once Wei Ying returns to his body, you will be able to stay at the Lotus Pier. If you do not wish to stay there, I will bring you back to the Cloud Recesses – that is my home – instead.”

“Oh,” Mo Xuanyu said, feeling bewildered. That was an awfully nice offer, even if Lan Wangji was feeling guilty about Wei Wuxian stealing his body by accident – which seemed like what had happened here rather than Mo Xuanyu being the one who did the stealing. Maybe he should go with Lan Wangji instead, he seemed much more responsible than Wei Wuxian was, rushing over to rescue him and explain things instead of throwing him into a body and leaving him all alone in a strange place. But on the other hand… “Is the Cloud Recesses…I mean…no offense, but…does it have…”

“Yes?”

“Does it have soft beds, too? And – and hot food?”

Mo Xuanyu didn’t need much, not really. He looked eagerly at Lan Wangji, who had an odd expression on his face briefly before wiping it back to neutral and nodding in confirmation.

“Okay,” Mo Xuanyu said, and curled up in Lan Wangji’s arms. “Then I’ll stay with you. You can take care of me.”

“I will,” Lan Wangji said, sounding strangely serious. “In return for the gift you last gave me – I will.”

#mdzs #mo xuanyu #jiang cheng #lan wangji #my fic #my fics #switcheroo

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earnestly-endlessly · 4 years ago

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I love your fic recs! Do you have any with Protective!Erik?

Protective! Erik is one of my favourite tropes so I have a TON of fics to share with you. I hope you enjoy them as much as I do.

Protective! Erik fic recs

Erik Lehnsherr's Guide to Saving the Universe By Meeting Your Soul-Mate and Falling in Love in Less than 72 Hours – madneto, Pangea

Summary: Army Pilot Erik Lehnsherr is just trying to enjoy his day off when a mostly naked person crashes through the roof of his car. Even more alarming, the strange falling naked person—who goes by Charles Xavier when he's not speaking an ancient dead language—brings tidings of the apparent potential end of the world, and begs Erik to help him put a stop to it.

Well. His mother has been nagging at him to go out and meet new people.

In Sound and Silence – endingthemes

Summary: Erik is assigned to care for the special patient in room 301.

How Not To Meet Your Future Boyfriend – ikeracity

Summary: Erik punches Charles in the face the first time they meet. There isn't anywhere their relationship can go from there but up.

Forgotten – FuryRed

Summary: Charles is having a really bad day. Not only has he woken up in the middle of the afternoon with no idea where he is or how he got there, but when he returns home he’s confronted by a stranger with intense eyes, who insists that he knows Charles rather more intimately than Charles remembers…

Thou Shalt Not Eat Stones – valancysnaith

Summary: Two months after Washington, Raven found Erik in a skeevy motel off the Florida interstate.

“They have Charles, Erik,” she said.

The bedframe shrieked. In the bathroom, the showerhead snapped in half and clattered into the tub.

Demoted – JayPendragon

Summary: Erik Lehnsherr is a detective-specialist with the NYPD Mutant Tactical Unit, ready to help out where his skills are needed. Or he would be, if he and his partner hadn’t been demoted. For the next four months, he is patrolling the Lenox Hill precinct with Azazel – if he doesn’t die of boredom first. One night they are called in to investigate a potential case of domestic violence, yet the tenant assures them he is both alone and unharmed. However, there is something about this Charles Xavier that compels Erik to follow up.

Warning: Sensitive material, domestic abuse and dubious consent

Watch Your Back – swoopswoop

Summary: Bodyguard AU where Erik is overly protective and things aren't as simple as they seem.

If We Met Differently – swoopswoop

Summary: Erik wasn't the only mutant 'taken in' by Shaw, Erik learns this the hard way when a new mutant is dropped into his cell. They manage to escape together, but things aren't all roses after that. Erik has a score to settle and needs to make sure Charles is safe.

The Color of Love (Character Swap Remix) – BadLuckBlueEyes

Summary: Nobody sees in color until they meet their soulmates. When your soulmate dies, your vision returns to black and white. What happens when your soulmate only dies for a few minutes?

Omega Online – miss_aphelion

Summary: Newly imprinted Charles is having trouble dealing with his overly protective alpha—so in desperation he seeks advice in an omega chat room. Emma Frost is more than happy to help, Raven isn't helping at all, and Erik can't stand to be out of touch with Charles for more than five minutes at a time.

Cannot be Contained in Words – wallhaditcoming (uvcatastrophe)

Summary: Crime syndicate head Erik Lehnsherr travels to London on business, where he meets oxford student Charles Xavier. Their liaison spawns into a years long transatlantic affair, kept apart by Erik's work and Charles' studies,which Erik chronicles in photographs. When distance ceases to be an issue after four long years, the overlap between Charles' past and Erik's work create a whole new set of complications.

A Pertinent Reminder – ikeracity, Pangea

Summary: Sometimes it's easy to forget that getting involved in Erik's mob business isn't all fine dining and sex on yachts. There's nothing like taking a couple of bullets to remind Charles of the reality.

Part 3 of the Associates series

A Dangerous Game – ikeracity, pangea

Summary: When a familiar enemy of Erik's returns to the city for some old-fashioned revenge, Charles is sucked deeper into the world of the mob than ever before.

Part 6 of the Associates series

You don’t choose the thug life (except when you do) – Anonymous

Summary: Charles is kidnapped and discovers that Erik, the Alpha he has been dating for the past few months and is head-over-heels for, is not just a wealthy businessman but actually the head of a syndicate.

He is rather unhappy about this discovery and Erik gets an earful for lying to him. Then Charles is kidnapped again and really, he hopes mating Erik won't result in weekly kidnapping because he has a thesis to finish and papers to grade.

Marrying a Mob – Ook

Summary: Charles is a teacher at a very exclusive school. When armed men burst in on the trail of two children, of course he stands up to them and gets hurt. The children are Erik Lehnsherr's children (of course); a "prominent businessman" or, less politely, "mobster".

Erik is grateful to Charles for saving his children's lives at the cost of his kneecap. So very grateful.

Naturally he tries to reward Charles for his actions. Equally naturally, Charles will be having none of that.

Azazel finds the whole thing unspeakably hilarious. Naturally.

Rumor Has It – blueink3

Summary: "Did I hear the doorbell earlier?"

"Yeah, but I'd steer clear if I were you. It seemed a little tense. I don't know what's going on, but there's a kid out there who looks freakily like the prof."

Nearly six months after Cuba, Charles' life is turned upside down for the second time. Though he's slowly learning to adapt to the first, he's not sure he can handle the second. Luckily for him, there are a few people out there more than willing to help.

Forward Momentum – AsYouWish

Summary: Six months after Cuba, Charles and Erik find themselves thrown fifty years into the future, where they meet their older selves, the Avengers, and a world that's very different from their own. Faced with the pieces of their broken relationship, an unparalleled adversary, and dealing with Tony Stark on a daily basis, Charles and Erik do their best to adapt while trying to find a way back home -- and to each other.

Runs in the Family – Anonysquirrel (chibirisuchan)

Summary: Alex knew his own reputation. Hell, he'd started some of his own reputation, because it kept some of the smarter thugs off his back. Everyone knew Alex's reputation. There was no way Hank didn't know his reputation, but he'd brought Alex into a house with some really expensive things and a lot of innocent little kids and his too-friendly, too-harmless dad.

But clearly Hank hadn't told his family anything about Alex, just like he hadn't told Alex anything about his family. At least, not about the brain-breaking parts of his family.

"I didn't know where to start," Hank said, for the dozenth time.

Featuring mpreg!Charles in a Kiss The Cook apron, overprotective!Erik in wet black leather, and baked goods. Lots and lots of baked goods.

Round the Corner Waiting – swoopswoop

Summary: When things go so spectacularly wrong during a relationship, Charles - now a single dad - almost makes a big mistake, only to be stopped by a mysterious man who just might turn his life back around.

Hide Your Fires – swoopswoop

Summary: As the sole heir, Prince Charles, had no problem with the roles and responsibility that would come with ruling a kingdom. Though he was the only one who did not see a problem. After years of being shuttled back and forth between kingdoms, his Regent hoping he would find a match more suitable to being King, he is finally sent to Genosha. Though the path has never been less clear than the one to a foreign kingdom with no ties to his native land.

Shaw’s Captive – swoopswoop

Summary: Magneto killed Shaw, it had to be done for the sake of mutant-kind but what he wasn't expecting to find hidden deep with Shaw's complex was a man held captive, obviously tortured, that somehow made Magneto turn into Erik.

Erik now has a potential human in his citadel as he continues the war with the human's.

Mind’s Eye Blind – Sperare

Summary: As far as Erik is concerned, if you want to scare a person into talking, you have to present him with something more compelling than what he stands to lose...

And there is nothing in the world more compelling than Charles.

Chipped – Rosawyn

Summary: Magneto's fledgling Brotherhood find Charles Xavier in a mutations research lab as an apparently willing subject for an experimental suppression device.

Okay, I Feel Better Now – Harleydoll

Summary: The AU in which Erik is sent to a mental health facility after being convicted for Shaw's murder and pleads insanity, and Charles is his paranoid schizophrenic of a roommate. Powers, Hellfire conspiracies, protective!Erik, and of course the inevitable angst.

Five Nights in Nuremberg – FuryRed

Summary: When Charles escapes from the mutant prison he has been held in for the last two years he knows that he’s going to need help to avoid being recaptured.

What he doesn’t expect is that help will come in the form of a mysterious German man who rescues Charles and takes him to his home; a handsome stranger who, frustratingly, doesn’t speak a single word of English…

Five Bullet Points – Sperare

Summary: It was supposed to be Erik locked away in a prison one hundred stories below the ground.

Charles was never supposed to be there with him.

Notes: Unfinished but an excellent read. Highly recommend it.

Stolen – ishipitsobad

Summary: Erik is a miserable, grumpy, cantankerous bastard, and he has every fucking right to be. He drew the short end of the stick when he got the Underworld as his domain, and there isn't very much fun to be had in judging and governing dead souls who would rather be anywhere else but with Erik in the depths of Hell.

So when he meets Charles, brilliant and lovely Charles who is more popularly known amongst the mortals as Persephone, and feels the promise of something wonderful that could make his eternally doomed existence infinitely more bearable... you can bet all your drachmas Erik's not going to let Charles go any fucking time soon.

My Barbaric Darling – baehj2915

Summary: Erik is revivified caveman. Charles is the anthropologist(?) taking care of him. This is as ridiculous as it sounds. Romcom misunderstandings and prehistoric wooing ensues.

Swimming with Sharks – Not_You

Summary: Erik used to be a shark. Now he's not, and has to figure out how to be a good human father to his twins. Charles is willing to help.

Eucalyptus leaf of my soul - kageillusionz, ourgirlfriday

Summary: Zookeeper Raven at Taronga Zoo keeps having ideas on how to capitalize on interest in the zoo mascots, Koala Charles and Drop Bear Erik (the only drop bear in captivity!), who have captured the hearts and minds of the public. First it was to introduce prospective mates (It’ll generate attention, Hank. People are perverts. They’d love to see koala porn.). This idea was not effective the first through fifth attempts, as Erik and Charles seemed to show at best polite interest in the newcomer before resuming whatever marsupial debate they had going. However, the resulting lesbian koala orgies did indeed generate interest. Then Raven unveiled the Hug-A-Koala program, which was successful, as the public showed great interest in hugging Charles, and Charles seemed to enjoy being hugged.

Then Raven unveiled the Hug-A-Drop Bear program, and Hank, not for the first time, wished he had a flask handy.

Notes: Yes, they’re Koalas, yes they’re adorable, and yes, Erik is super protective even as a Drop Bear.

#cherik #cherik fic recs #fic recs #protective Erik #long post

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peralta-guaranteed · 4 years ago

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What abkut mafia!jake au

Stop giving me awesome AU ideas that I cannot write the fic for! 😭

- due to some really, really bad choices after high school (did he ever make other ones? who knows), Jake Peralta has ended up as a grunt for the Ianucci family. He doesn’t really do much - he’s mostly someone who gathers information and new areas for them to work in, because he’s good at randomly befriending people and milking them for all it’s worth. He’s done a few ‘deliveries’, too, but has never had to really get physical.

- (he was at one family meeting that turned into the ‘farewell’ of a mistrusted member and he still has nightmares about it)

- he’s never been arrested for anything and thought the police didn’t even know his name, so imagine his surprise when he’s approached by one of their higher-ups (as if he knows the rankings, psh, pigs are all the same) and subtly but definitely asked if he would be willing to work with them

- his task seems simple: bring one of their cops into the family undercover, the same way he has ‘recruited’ several bodega owners and other ‘low-skill’ workers that turned out to be useful for the family. Maybe keep an eye on the cop as well and help her out if she’s struggling

- she? oh yeah, it’s a woman. A frankly gorgeous woman, he realises when they meet up with her and some FBI dude who obviously pretends he’s not FBI, to discuss it all further. Her name is ‘Dora’, and he knows that’s a lie from the second she’s introduced, but the less he knows, probably the better. The rules are set, he gets a special cellphone number of a ‘cousin’ to contact if something goes wrong, and two weeks later Dora Perez is steadily working her way up the ranks with the Ianuccis, who are very proud of Jake for bringing in this brilliant new talent.

- He might or might not be looking out for her a little bit too much. He might or might not get involved in far more shady dealings with the Iannuccis so he can work closer with her. He might or might not be in deep, deep shit.

- ‘Dora’ is grateful for it, though, he learns every time he drives her home after a more difficult job. She used to be withdrawn and quiet with him, which he tried to equalise by cracking more and more stupid jokes and doing random silly stuff during their drives, but then one time they drive in absolute silence while she cleans blood of her hands, and he says something, he doesn’t remember what, but it’s the right thing apparently, because she starts to talk. She talks to him during every ride after, telling him about the stress and the constant guard she has to keep up and how none of her research binders prepared her for this, and at some point she tells him about nightmares and seeing death around every corner and she can’t wait for this mission to be over.

- (for her sake, he can’t wait for that either. For his sake, he wishes it would go on forever.)

- They’re sent out for a big job together once, because Jake has already become ‘connected’ to Amy in the Ianuccis’ eyes, and they both end up with blood on their hands, and some of it is hers.

- he gets out of the car after that drive home, and gets up to her tiny, fake apartment, and helps her clean the wounds (nothing too big, just cuts, because thank god that guy only had a knife before he beat it out of his hands and then beat the living daylight out of him after he injured her) with the softest fingers she’s ever felt. Then the cleaning alcohol is swapped for drinkable stuff, and they talk, and they talk about everything and nothing, about how a dead-beat dad and an absent mother make a Mafia goon, and how family pressure and a sense of constant duty make a detective who so badly wanted to say no to this assignment but couldn’t.

- “For what it’s worth, Dora, I’m glad you said yes. I mean, not that- not that I want you to do this kind of work- and I want things to be over for you soon, because- but- I’m glad it’s you.” “Amy.” “Hm?” “My name is Amy. Amy Santiago.”

- He wakes up in her bed the next morning, with her in his arms, and he kind of doesn’t regret a single thing, even as his smart-brain is screaming at him. He’s pretty sure he would’ve willingly died for her even before this night, but now, he realises... that he probably will.

- Amy (Amy, not Dora) does freak out a little more than he does when she wakes up. She can’t get involved, she says, this is a job, a dangerous one, and she has to focus on that job and getting the mafia gang and not- okay, okay, let’s not overthink this then, Jake says only to calm her down, we don’t do anything ‘involved’, we’re just... having fun. Keeping things light and breezy. Helping deal with the stress.

- and so, despite how much it hurts and how much it makes him happy at the same time, Jakey the Jew becomes Jakey, Dora’s Loverboy. It helps, he supposes, because it means the Ianuccis won’t suspect them hanging out so much, and send him along to most of her jobs now so he can watch out for her, and he gets to be with her in a way, even as she constantly reiterates ‘light and breezy’ to keep him at a distance no matter how close they get.

- it doesn’t feel very ‘light and breezy’ when they spend time together in front of the TV, though, to get their minds to relax after doing whatever the Ianuccis needed them doing. It doesn’t feel ‘light and breezy’ when they joke around in the bodega getting ice cream on a particularly hot day out doing jobs, or when she shows him around the library after meeting her ‘cousin’ there for a chat. It doesn’t feel ‘light and breezy’ at all when she sighs into his arms when he’s holding her in bed, neither of them even wanting to take the night any further than soft hands under tshirts, because all they really need at some point is the comfort of each other.

- and then one day, after a few months of this ‘light and breezy’ and ‘Dora’s Loverboy’, Jake gets invited for a ‘Talk’ by the family. With a capital T. And he’s not been that high up in the ranks at any point, and he’s not really done much for the family, but he’s not an idiot. He knows what that means. So of course he doesn’t tell Amy, writes her a short but succinct note instead that maybe ends with the L-word somewhere in it, and goes to have a Talk.

- The Ianuccis know that there is a rat, but they don’t know who. And they know that if Jakey is good for one thing, it’s information. So The Talk doesn’t end as quickly as it usually does, and the way he’d expected. It hurts a lot more, for one thing. Jake thinks of offering up some other goon or lower family member as the rat, if only to make the torture stop, but his brain is too broken in the moment to figure out a convincing story. And when the name ‘Perez’ suddenly drops into the conversation, there’s really only one other name he can still think of clearly to blame. Peralta.

- he doesn’t remember much after that - he’s pretty sure he heard gunshots, but none of them hit him, so what’s the deal with that? Everything else is pretty much a blur of pain and cold, and lots of shouting, and then warm soft hands on his face and a quiet voice saying his name amidst it all, and when he wakes up the next time he’s in a hospital bed.

- He’s in that hospital bed for two weeks to recover, and no one visits him. Not that it should be surprising - Nana is dead, his mom doesn’t know about anything he’s done since the age of 18 for a reason, and there’s no one else who in their right mind should care to visit him. So imagine his surprise when a detective shows up, introduces herself as Rosa Diaz, and explains that she’s Amy’s partner at work, but she’s not here for official business.

- “She wanted to come see you. Hell, she fought tooth and nail for it. But she had to be debriefed, stupid FBI assholes, and then it turned out two of the Ianuccis got away, so we had to find them first to make sure they don’t go after her for revenge” (well that explains the constant patrols in the hospital for him, as well) “and we had to hide her for her safety, but, Jake, she wanted to come see you. I swear.” “It’s okay.” Jake says, and it’s really not, but he’s been a brilliant liar for years now. “You can tell her... it’s okay. The job is done, and I’m, I’m glad she’s finally got it over and past her. Really. Tell her it’s okay.”

- He’s debriefed by the FBI after he gets discharged, as well. They tell him ‘good job’ and ‘thanks’ and pay him a surprisingly large amount of money and cover his hospital bills, so that’s good. They also advise that he move, not far, but far enough that any possible leftover scragglers of the family don’t remember his old place for a ‘visit’. So he moves, a few blocks only, enough to get a new favourite bodega and deli and discover that the library is actually nearby and that there’s this community college that Amy kept talking about for some reason, and if he takes a few classes to finally get a degree, it’s not about getting a proper job at some point, it’s more about not thinking about anything else. About maybe forgetting, even if it was her that basically got him where he is now.

- (it does not work)

- she knocks on his door a month later. She looks strange in her professional outfit instead of washed out jeans and a tanktop with a stupid slogan on it, but also so perfectly her. That’s Amy, he thinks, not Dora anymore. That’s Amy, and he still loves her just as much as he did when she was ‘Dora’ in his sweatpants and tshirt. Maybe more.

- “You’re a hard man to find, Peralta.” She says, and he knows that’s a lie, but she smiles with a scared look through it and he takes it for what it is - an attempt at saying anything, really, after 1 1/2 months of silence, when she’s probably got a speech all prepared in her head but needs to get there first. “That’s such a bad, cheesy movie line.” He helps, and she laughs and yeah, that’s all he needs in life. “Well we never watched any good movies, did we.” “Hey, we watched Die Hard. That’s the best movie there is.” She rolls her eyes but nods, and opens her mouth, and Jake thinks that the speech is coming now, but he has no idea what it might entail. Thank you and good bye, maybe. Good job, great work, can you sign this official statement for me so I can add it to my paperwork? possibly. “Screw light and breezy.” She says instead, and then she’s in his new apartment, which is much nicer and cleaner than the old place was even after she worked her magic on it, and she’s kissing him, and he’s never, ever letting her out.

#B99 #Brooklyn 99 #Peraltiago #Jake Peralta #Amy Santiago #headcanon? writing? I dunno anymore #Mafia AU

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yoditorian · 4 years ago

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lacuna- part 3

din/reader

she’s dropping early because i have no patience and i’m extremely proud of the last 2/3rds of this. thanks as always to my darling @brothersdrxke for being encouraging and yelling with me 💛

MASTERLIST

word count: 3.5k

warnings: swears, overuse of italics, discussion of violence including graphic injury, mentions of scars (causes not discussed), one use of ‘their’ as a pronoun for reader, usual poetic smut, 18+ no babies thanks

You didn’t think you’d be back here.

Maybe ever, but definitely not after only a couple of years, and your smile is tight as you flick the lever to lower the small freighter’s boarding ramp. You’re sure it won’t come back if you drop it.

“Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?” Qin’s teeth are sharp in his own smile.

“You’re not.”

His snarled response is cut off by Ran’s booming laugh before it starts. Your old boss claps him on the shoulder, saying something in lieu of a real greeting about how he’s missed your jokes. It’s a little tense, the way the men take you in for a moment. You didn’t wear your uniform, there’s not a thing on the ship that points any fingers towards the Rebellion, but it’s clear you’ve done well for yourself since leaving. Something they clearly have not, judging by the holes in the jacket tied around Qin’s hips.

“Thanks for letting me stay, system hopping takes a lot longer when your hyperdrive’s busted.” You relax a little, let your shoulders drop, let them think you’re more than comfortable under their scrutinizing gazes.

“We’ve probably got something laying around here you could use. For a price, of course.” Ran grins, in that predatory way that he always has. He seems so unassuming, but you know different. You know better.

“Your prices always land me on the wrong end of a blaster. I’ll take my chances in open space, thanks.”

He laughs heartily again, and you can breathe. At least they seem to believe you.

Ran had offered you your old room, something you’d graciously thanked him for, and left you to it. The station seems to run the same, more or less. He hasn’t hired anyone in your place, or in Din’s for that matter, but it’s difficult to find somebody without loyalties to any one side of the war. Leaving the spots open for now is probably safer for him. You’d raised a hand in greeting to Xi’an when you passed her in the hall, she’d hissed in return but any time she didn’t threaten to cut you is always a win. So at least you’re still in somebody’s good graces here.

Still, good graces don’t last long. And neither does your patience. It’s only a few hours into the night cycle on the station when you creep out of your room and towards the main hangar. Your old workspace looks exactly the same, a few bits and pieces missing, but mostly untouched by time and sticky fingers. Good. It takes less than an hour to completely gut the bench. Every single old motivator, circuit board, gear, and valve packed up neatly in the cargo hold of the ship. There’s still larger engine pieces that the base mechanics are in desperate need of, but Shara’s working on that lead. You find a black marker lying on a nearby workbench and draw a big smiley face on the dulled metal. For good measure.

It’s with a deep breath, and a prayer you never have to return, that you maneuver your ship up and out of the station. You ease it into lightspeed, the definitely-not-busted hyperdrive humming, and disappear.

“Did you think I don’t keep tabs on people, Mando?”

Din would rather go swimming on Mustafar, or get swallowed by a Krayt dragon, or be literally anywhere else in the galaxy than the hangar on Ran’s station. How he’d even known he’d joined the Bounty Hunters’ Guild is a mystery to him, but the call came through nonetheless. The new representative on Nevarro, a very theatrical man if their short contact was anything to go by, had popped up in the holo-com display talking about a special assignment and given him coordinates he knew all too well. Whatever it is, it isn’t good.

“You know, Xi’an’s still broken up about you leaving. Convinced herself that you and the pilot organised it, that you’re holed up somewhere together. But we both know that’s not true.”

Din says nothing. He doesn’t need to, Ran’s tone leaves nothing to be discussed. Whether he knows for sure that you went straight to the rebels or not, he has his suspicions. Xi’an can think whatever she likes, he’s just grateful he doesn’t have to deal with her trailing after him like a lost puppy anymore.

“They said you have a job for me.”

Ran gestures out for him to follow, leading him to a desk he knows all too well. Your workstation was always cluttered, always a tangled heap of wires and unidentifiable spare parts. Organised chaos, you said, it was about the piles. Except it’s been completely cleared out. There’s shelves underneath that he didn’t even know existed, and a big smiley face drawn carefully on the worktop. Din turns his head towards Ran, a wordless question.

“We had a visit from our old friend, a favour done out of the kindness of my heart. So imagine my surprise when we all woke up to find their room empty, and my hangar pillaged.” Ran’s laying it on thick, thicker than usual. Pillaged is a strong word, it’s clear you only touched your own bench, those parts belong to you as far as Din’s concerned. But it’s not his concern that’s the problem.

“So, what’s the job?” He doesn’t feel like playing games anymore. He doesn’t see what any of this has to do with him anyway.

“I’m putting a bounty on that little thief, it can be yours or it can go to the Guild. Or,” Ran hesitates, watching the way Din’s shoulders tense, “You can help me out. Help me with this one thing and I’ll drop it.”

Din doesn’t even ask what he needs to do, he only nods and finds himself trying his best to tolerate Qin’s chatter from the Crest’s passenger seat while he flies.

It should worry him, that he didn’t even consider his own safety. But something about it feels right, he’s sure he’d put anything on the line if it meant you were safe.

It’s almost boring, standing guard at the door as Qin ransacks some official’s office on a planet he’s already forgotten the name of. Ran mentioned something about a trade agreement, although given the largely illegal nature of his dealings it doesn’t take a genius to work out exactly why something like that would have been refused by any law abiding citizen. Although law in the Outer Rim is generally subjective to everyone’s personal code.

“One more office and we’re done.” Qin assures him as he exits the upturned office, pressing a drive into Din’s gloved palm. He pockets it without question, experience has taught him that wasting time asking will only get them in trouble.

Trouble seems to find them anyway. It always does.

He races through the beige hallways, following the blinking dot on the display of his vambrace with Qin hot on his heels. The security guards aren’t fast, they aren’t even armed, there’s no point in shooting when the two of them so clearly have the upper hand. Until a burly Trandoshan leaps out of a doorway and tackles Qin to the ground. But Din doesn’t look back, he just presses forward to the Crest.

Din hightails it out of there, jumping to lightspeed still in atmosphere. Just in case. And breathes his first sigh of relief since he stepped onto the station. He’s not sure what’s on the drive, honestly he doesn’t want to know, and he just hopes it’s important enough to Ran that he might overlook the tiny detail of leaving Qin to the guards.

Ran only seems mildly annoyed that Din comes back alone, more interested in the drive dropped into his waiting hand, and agrees to forget about setting a bounty. So long as you don’t turn up on his doorstep, lie, and steal from him again. Din promises to pass on the message.

You’re on Tatooine, arguing with a scrapper in Mos Espa over the price of a rusted laser cannon, when he finds you. The scrapper quiets when he appears over your shoulder, and nods reluctantly at your suggested fifty percent of the asking price. It’s hot and you’re tired, you don’t have the patience to pretend to be surprised when you turn to see him standing behind you.

“Help me with this?” You ask. Din watches a bead of sweat drip down your temple, tries not to wish it was his tongue instead, and nods wordlessly.

Between the two of you, you manage to haul the cannon to your docking bay and roll it up the loading ramp. Only once it’s secure in the hold do you take a moment to survey his armour, the way you did last time.

There’s no obvious new scratches, although the dust on this rock of a planet will dirty anything in a matter of seconds, but you find yourself relieved by the familiarity of his dark red armour. Nothing has been replaced since the last time you saw him, it seems. You’ve come a long way since then.

“You’re stealing from our old boss now?” Din’s voice breaks your careful study of his armour, and your brow furrows. You thought he might understand, out of everyone in the galaxy, but you don’t even know how he found out.

“We’re in a war.”

“You’re in a war.”

Your eyes snap up to his visor, and he has to physically plant himself so he isn’t rocked back by the intensity of your stare. You find his eyes every time, you always have. But yours have never held such a cold fury for him than they do now. It’s kind of terrifying, it’s kind of beautiful.

“This is not about me. This is so much bigger than just me. You may have grown up underground learning how to kill people with your thumbs but I grew up under imperial rule. I grew up building parts for star destroyers and running messages for rebels. All I know is this fucking war.” You’re rambling but you don’t care. He has to know, he has to understand that this is what you do now. The last couple of years have been the best of your life, you’ve found a purpose. Something that makes you want to get out of bed in the mornings and reluctant to go back to it at night, you’ve thrown yourself into the brewing fight and it feels like you were born for it. The names of all the friends you’ve lost to the Empire sit heavy on your tongue for every TIE you take down, every supply you steal, every bit of intel you scrape together. It’s for them, it’s for everyone who came before, it’s for everyone who will come after.

Din says your name softly, but the tears are falling and you can’t stop.

“I’ve been fighting my whole life so kids in the future don’t have to live the way I have. I think a few spare parts are worth that.”

You tell him your whole story, standing there awkwardly in the belly of the freighter. You tell him about the messages you ran between workers who resisted, who rebelled, who heard whispers of uprising and felt the roar of hope in their chests. You’d started young, too young really to understand the danger of what you were doing. But what about being young on Corellia was not dangerous? You tell him how the group started to grow, branching out from your factory line to the docks and the mechanics and further. The way they started to include you more as you got older, planning and whispering in darkened corners and safehouses away from the ears of the Empire.

Not that it did anyone any good in the end. You tell him how they stormed the house one night. No warning, no whispers. Blew the door out of the wall and started shooting. So you’d started running. Nothing but the blanket from your bed, the one you’d had since you were a child, around your shoulders and a younger girl’s hand in yours. You’d almost gotten her to the loading docks. To safety. Almost. You can still taste the blood in your mouth when the blaster bolt split her head open, but you’d left her where she fell and kept running. You tell him how you dove into the first open cargo bay you saw and hid. For days. How you’d cried when you felt it finally lift from the bay. How it had been Ran’s ship, one of his first trades. You hadn’t had the courage to leave the station until somebody had shown you it was possible.

Din doesn’t interrupt once. He only watches. Watches as the tears stop streaming, as you pull yourself back together again. He’s sure you didn’t want him, anyone, to see you so vulnerable. You’ve always had that mask of quick jokes and bright smiles, it’s only now that he realises it's a mask, and it’s oddly fascinating to watch you piece it together. You wipe at your cheeks with the sleeve of your jacket until there’s no trace of your tears and take a deep breath. In the blink of an eye, it’s as though you never cried at all.

Even so, the bags under your eyes don’t lie. He’s sure he’s got a pair to match.

“When’s the last time you slept?” He asks quietly, and if you didn’t know better you’d swear he was concerned about you. But you do know better.

You shoot a glance over to the freighter’s sorry excuse of a bunk. It’s even worse than the last one he took you in, although you’re not sure he’s suggesting a good fuck will get you off to sleep. It’s very pointedly not been touched, starched sheets still stretched military-tight over the mattress. Not that it’s much of a mattress.

“Let’s find a room somewhere. I think a real bed might do us both some good.” He makes it sound like an offer, but you know it’s non-negotiable. And deep down, you really could use a good hour or two before you have to fly back to base. The pilot’s seat is definitely more comfortable than the bunk, just about. You dip into the cockpit at the last second to snag your old blanket. For comfort’s sake.

There’s not a lot in the room that an older Twi’lek woman hands you the keycard to. Only a desk with a chair, an attached refresher, and a small bed. But it’s big enough for the two of you. The suns start to dip below the horizon, and Din finally reaches out to touch you. Just barely, just a light stroke of his fingers along your shoulder. But it’s enough to convince you to take a shower, you’re sandy and sweaty and tired and it’ll take more energy to argue than it would to just take the shower.

You’re in there for longer than you intended, zoning out as your eyes lose focus of the little square tiles on the wall, and it’s dark outside by the time you’re dried and dressed in the spare clothes you keep in your go-bag. Din’s pulled blinds shut, locked the door, and piled his armour carefully on the desk. The ancient wood creaks under the weight of the metal. The man himself is lying spreadeagled on the bed, in only his underclothes and his helmet, the dull light from the single bulb in the refresher reflects off of his visor when he turns to look at you. It might make you laugh if you weren’t so tired.

“Better?”

You nod. Of course you feel better, anyone would after scrubbing what felt like an inch thick layer of sweat and sand off of their skin. You smell of the pleasantly neutral soap from the dispenser and, for the first time in days, you think you can breathe again. Although the weight of exhaustion threatens to drag your bones through the floor.

Din pulls himself to stand with a low groan, shoulders protesting when he rolls them, and tucks the sheet back far enough that you can get in comfortably. It doesn’t escape your notice that he’s laid your blanket out beneath them, a thought that sits jagged in your throat. He approaches you slowly, carefully, as though he’s afraid you’ll bolt if he moves too fast. But you take his hand the moment he offers it and leans around you to switch the fresher’s light off, let him lead you back to the bed, and follow him down onto it.

There’s the barest sound of metal brushing against his hair as he pulls the helmet off and sits up for a moment to set it down on the floor.

“Din?” Your voice is quiet, careful not to disturb the peace that’s settled in the room, but it makes him shudder all the same. He returns to you, tucks the blankets up around you both, and tugs you into him. The Armourer’s words, the ones that swirl in his head every time he thinks of you like this, are silent. Din finds he’s not even a little bit guilty.

Warm fingers trace your body, soft over your exposed skin, light as they dip under your shirt. He says nothing, only traces the scars on your back, on your sides, along your ribs. He doesn’t ask how they got there, running his touch along the raised marks you’ve collected through your life and leaving goosebumps in his wake. For the first time in a long time, you don’t feel quite so empty.

You shift further into the warmth underneath you, a vain attempt to keep a hold of the last few dregs of sleep. But you feel rested, at least. That’s not something particularly familiar, and you bask in the feeling. A hum rumbles beneath you. Oh, that’s where you are. You’re not embarrassed, or shocked, like you thought you might be if this ever happened. If you ever thought it possible he wouldn’t leave you to wake up alone. But Din is solid under your head, under your arm, the soft fabric of his shirt clutched in your fist. He’s speaking softly, coaxing you from dreams. It’s still dark as anything when you finally open your eyes, so it can’t have been more than a few hours you spent snoozing.

It’s his story, you realise when your brain finally kicks into gear. He’s whispering about the memories he has from before, his parents. You’d always assumed he was born and raised Mandalorian, how he carries his Way so heavily on his shoulders, but the shake in his ribs as he recounts them tells you all you need to know. Your fist tightens in his shirt when you shuffle a little closer, press your face into his shoulder, a little more over the top of him. A human blanket.

Din likes it, the weight of you on him, your body helps him to keep focus. He never thought he’d tell anyone what happened to him. A dirty secret to be kept hidden away. But something about you pulls it out of him, something about the peace he’s created here with you in this little room makes the truth ease its way out of his throat. You’re not the only one who felt the wrath of the Empire as a child, you’re not the only one who wants it gone, he needs you to know that.

It breaks something inside you, to hear him so clearly struggle through the details of the attack and his rescue, and you can’t help but push yourself up further. Unwrap your hand from his shirt to find his cheek, press your lips to his softly, slowly. He’s suffered enough. You need him to know that you’re here, you have him. You’ll always have him. You let him lose himself in your body, and maybe your heart. He’s already made a home there anyways.

It’s careful, tentative, more so than the other times. The way you hold each other as though you’re made of glass. There’s no rush, no pressure of a goodbye, no adrenaline of a hunt. You have time. And, god, does it show. The way Din touches you is reverent, like you’re holy. You put everything you are, everything you have, behind every kiss, every touch, every whisper. It belongs to him, you’re happy to give yourself over. Just as he belongs to you, you’re sure of it. The fear that he touches someone else in the way he does you is soothed by the roughness of his voice in your ear, the way his teeth scrape against your throat, the way you hear the words without them needing to be said. Because he does, as you do.

You’re the first one to leave this time, blindly finding your clothes in the dark. You leave him a neutral comm, one you already have the pin saved for. He’ll know what it is. It connects to your personal pin without leaving a trace, and you can buzz him at any point. So long as he keeps it, you think he will. You take a moment to listen to him breathing, steadily in the dark, and raise your blanket to your nose. Din.

There won’t be a day goes by where you don’t think of him, of that you’re certain.

TAGLIST (lmk if u want on or off the list):

@brothersdrxke @remmysbounty @aq-vetina @1800-fight-me @mandos-co @kesskirata @sarahjkl82-blog @firstofficerwiggles @keeper0fthestars

#lacuna #the mandalorian #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x you #din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #star war #fic #liz does words #obligatory prayer to the tag gods that they work #smut

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tomorrowsdrama · 4 years ago

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2020 Year in Thirst Pt. 2

Sometimes, I will watch a drama for the plot/premise/substance and be rewarded with a surprise hottie, and it’s the best feeling ever! It’s like finding money in your pocket that you didn’t know about. The following list of dramas can be described as:

Came for the plot, was rewarded with a surprising side of thirst

1. Flower of Evil

Brief Summary: Lee Jun Ki plays Baek Hee Sung and Moon Chae Won plays Cha Ji Won, his wife who is also a detective. What Ji Won doesn’t know is that her husband, Hee Sung, is actually Hyun Soo, a man on the run from a murder that he did not commit and also a suspected accomplice to a series of murders committed by his father in the past. Oh yeah, his dad secretly tried to groom him into being his protege/murder partner. Because of how he was raised, HS believes that he has no emotions and is simply putting on an act as the perfect husband and father. His “parents” are in on the ruse and are actually the ones who forced him into assuming their comatose son’s identity. Anyway, of course things from the past start to catch up with HS and his wife is somehow assigned to investigating his old murder case. She of course feels betrayed, but also conflicted as she discovers her husband is not who he said he was and a prime murder suspect. Things get even more complicated as the real murderer re-appears with fabulous long hair and tries to frame HS for the murders. In between all of this are delicious make outs between the couple and at least one instance where they banged so hard, HS was wiped out the next morning.

Surprise Thirst Factor: I checked out this drama fully expecting to drop it because the promos were so misleading and unappealing. But boy was I in for a pleasant surprise! Not only was the drama super addicting, it also had some nice eye candy in the form of Lee Jun Ki being a completely unrealistic house husband who satisfies in the housework (The man cooks and does the laundry!), childcare, and bedroom and Kim Ji Hoon’s glorious mane of beauty making viewers have a moral crisis over lusting after a homicidal maniac (who turned out to be a real loser without murder daddy around to clean up his mess. It’s ok, we’ll always have his hair).

Yes, work that hair honey. It’s the only good thing you’ve got going on for you (the character, not Kim Ji Hoon)

The chemistry between Lee Jun Ki and Moon Chae Won was fire and the make out scenes were soo believable. Like yes, these two beautiful people are really into being married to each other and understandably want to make out all the time.

He’s the primary caretaker for their daughter and it’s just *swoons.* Not all thirst traps come in the form of sexy abs (although I would not mind if he wanted to flash some).

2. Six Flying Dragons

Brief Summary: The story of young Yi Bang Won (who later becomes King Taejong) and the founding of the Joseon Dynasty. As short as it sounds, that really is an accurate summary of the drama haha.

Surprise Thirst Factor: I started watching this drama because I heard it was a great sageuk and I’m a big fan of Yoo Ah In. Even though I’m a fan of his acting, Yoo Ah In doesn’t necessarily get my hormones raging so I wasn’t expecting to be so thirsty while watching Six Flying Dragons. But then. BUT THEN. Byun Yo Han showed up in all his scruffy tortured deadly killer glory and my hormones woke up and said hi, hello, who are you, what’s your name, what’s your sign, can I get your number? The deadlier and more tortured his character got, the sexier he became to me. Sorry Yoo Ah In, you’ll always be my acting boo, but Byun Yo Han’s got my thirst. Byun Yo Han looks so good when he's sad and/or covered in blood, it makes me feel like a sadist for thinking that I wouldn’t mind if the drama made his character cry some more.

3. Ever Night S1

Brief Summary: As a child, Ning Que witnessed his entire household get massacred because of a prophecy that the child of Hades will be born from the house and bring about the Eternal Night. Somehow, he managed to escape and was the lone survivor. He finds a baby buried in a pile of dead bodies as he’s fleeing and names her Sang Sang. The two orphans grow up inseparable from each other and do whatever it takes to survive in the harsh, cruel world. Ning Que earns money by becoming a deadly mercenary and Sang Sang takes care of the household affairs. At one point, Ning Que becomes a disciple of the powerful Fu Zi and somehow gets entangled in the struggles between the Holy Sect and Demon Sect. A bunch of beautiful women fall for Ning Que, and the drama tries its hardest to convince us that he has chemistry with and reciprocates the feelings of one of them (i.e. Mo Shan Shan), but anybody who was even half paying attention knows that the only one for Ning Que is Sang Sang. They are the OTP of all OTPs and take “ride or die” to a whole other level. Oh also, their height difference is the stuff manga dreams are made of. Ning Que is a “good guy” but also not a “good guy” in the sense that he is not above doing whatever it takes to seek revenge and is only out for himself and Sang Sang (and later, his older brothers and sisters from the academy).

Surprise Thirst Factor: Chen Feiyu is an attractive person but I could not in good conscience thirst after him because he was literally born in the year 2000. It did not help that he was only 18 when he filmed Ever Night and looked every bit his age. My thirst may have no shame, but it does have its own set of principles and one of those principles is thou shalt not lust after those born in the new millennium! Luckily for me, Second Brother is played by Dylan Kuo who is a beautiful, elegant, tall man

and Brother Chao is exactly the type of rugged and manly that I am into.

(you don’t have to be)

who looks better when wet

AHEM. Yeah.

Sixth Brother is also not so bad with his scanty pounding work attire,

4. Novoland: Eagle Flag

Brief Summary: Asule is the prince of a tribe in the grasslands who is held as a royal guest (i.e. hostage) in the Eastland Empire. There he meets his two future best friends, Yu Ran, a free spirited princess who is descended from a race of bird people, and Ji Ye, an emo neglected/shunned son of a concubine who is probably the best fighter in the empire. Ji Ye loves Yu Ran who is a ball of sunshine to his Johnny Raincloud dark emo self. Yu Ran loves Ji Ye back. Asule loves both his friends and will do anything to protect them. The world decides to fuck over best friends Asule, Ji Ye, and Yu Ran for no reason as they try their best to just live a peaceful life away from all the political scheming and fighting.

Surprise Thirst-worthiness: I was completely content with enjoying Eagle Flag purely for its story and substance. It’s seriously a wonderful, yet heartbreaking drama and the scale of the production is amazing. No cheap $10 costumes here. Also, the direction is beautiful/artistic and not the run of mill “let’s shoot it and complete it as fast as we can.” The two main actors were cute, but not really my type. Then the drama decided to give Ji Ye the “Sexy Bloody Tormented Killer Makeover” and all of a sudden your girl was rushing to MDL to check Chen Ruo Xuan’s birthday and calculating his age. I am simple, predictable, and consistent when it comes to my thirst and give a character some scruff, long hair, angst, and some bloodlust and I’m all yours. I am literally:

Is it wrong that when Ji Ye showed up looking like this ready to kill his mother’s torturer

I thought, yes, can we have him kill another?

5. Run On

Brief Summary: Im Siwan plays Ki Seon Geom, a national track runner from a rich family who is a bit of an oddball and marches to his own beat. Although his words can sometimes be construed as rude since he has no filter, they are also completely honest and have no hidden meaning. He also has his own personal code that he lives by and he will stick to it no matter how negatively it may impact himself. He meets Oh Mi Joo, a translator with her own strange quirks and sparks fly as Mi Joo is assigned to be his interpreter.

Surprise Thirst-worthiness: I kind of watched this drama by accident. I had read about Im Siwan starring in a new drama but nothing I saw from the description or promos for Run On appealed to me. Nor did it give me any information about what the drama would be about. Then one day, I just happened to be browsing Netflix for something to play in the background and decided on Run on since I thought I wouldn’t be that invested. What a happy accident that turned out to be because I’m so in love with this drama right now. This is a case where the thirst does not stem from the character’s physical appearance, but from the intensity/charisma the actor brings to the character and the character himself. Ki Seon Geom is so odd, but so appealing at the same time and Im Siwan is so magnetic in the role. Prior to Run On, Im Siwan wasn’t really my type physically. In fact, I always scratched my head whenever people called him handsome in dramas (I know, I know, forgive me). So color me shocked when I found myself swooning all over Im Siwan in the second episode of Run On. Now, it’s like I have “Im Siwan is attractive” glasses on and he looks attractive in everything to me. I want to gobble up all the dramas he’s been in.

#flower of evil #lee jun ki #six flying dragons #byun yo han #ever night #novoland eagle flag #run on #jtbc run on #im siwan #kdrama #cdrama

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imaginetonyandbucky · 4 years ago

Text

The Buy In

For the prompt: Mafia AU with Tony as the Boss (except he's a really good one, making the streets safe, keeping drugs away from kids etc) and Bucky as the detective sent to go undercover to catch him out but ends up realizing he's actually doing more good than harm and they end up falling in love

Chapter One: Fresh Meat

by @dracusfyre

“Hey, boss, we got fresh meat for you,” the man at Bucky’s elbow said. Bucky’s heart was in his throat, pulse racing like mad; he was the first detective ever to get this close to Tony Stark, to the Mechanic, and he prayed he would live to tell the tale. For years Stark had only been seen through the lens of a telescoping camera, impeccably dressed with sunglasses hiding his eyes and surrounded by his men at all times. Before today there had been no wiretaps, no informants, no insight into the elusive mob boss and his inner circle. But after years of hard work, Bucky was about to change that. As he was pushed into the echoing warehouse, his eyes darted around the room, taking in the classic cars, the souped-up sports coupes and half-built engines, looking for the man himself. Bucky wondered how many of these were stolen and awaiting new buyers. Men in suits were spread out guarding the exits, but he didn’t see a desk or an office, any kind of throne from which Stark ran his criminal empire.

After a moment, in the middle of the room, a man that Bucky’s eyes had completely glossed over unfolded himself from a work bench. He was wearing a tank top and low-slung jeans, and as he stood, he pulled his welding mask off and put down the butane torch. Bucky blinked, stunned as he approached; the man’s hair was tousled and messy, jaw dark with a five o’clock shadow, arms toned and tan. His eyes, when they met Bucky’s, where whiskey brown and warm with amusement. Bucky barely kept his jaw from dropping as he recognized Tony Stark, right down to the scar on his jaw he’d gotten in the car crash that had killed his parents.

“New meat, huh?” Stark asked, and he crossed his arms over his chest as he tilted his head and studied Bucky with eyes that seemed entirely too perceptive. “Tell me about him.”

“Wants a job,” the man at his elbow said. Bucky didn’t jump, but it was a near thing; he’d forgotten the man was even there. This was Tony Stark? The Mechanic was actually a mechanic? Everyone, from Bucky's fellow policemen to the FBI task force that had been organized to take him down, to the ATF agents and federal marshals that swapped stories over beer, had a different theory about where the man’s klichka came from: because of his well-known penchant for nice cars, because shop tools were his favorite methods of interrogation, because he was good at greasing wheels and making things happen. No one had ever suggested, even as a joke, that it might be because the man was a grease monkey. “Former military, spent time in Iraq,” the man continued. What was his name? Oh yeah, Harold. Everyone called him Happy. “Got out and a friend of a friend got him a job, if you know what I mean. His info checks out; he used to do work down at Brighton Beach then moved up to Red Hook before crossing the bridge. You said we needed new muscle down on 6th, remember?”

“I remember.” Stark pulled out a wrench that had been hanging from his belt and started flipping it from hand to hand as he considered Bucky thoughtfully. Bucky lifted his chin and met Stark’s eyes, hoping his nervousness didn’t show; this wasn’t his first undercover assignment, just the one with the highest stakes. Stark controlled most of Manhattan and had been successfully expanding his territory at the expense of the Russians and Irish and gangs from Harlem. As the silence stretched, the metal of the wrench flashed in the light from the windows as it rose and fell, his hands sure and steady. “Go away, copper,” Stark said finally, and Bucky gaped as Stark turned away.

“I’m not a cop,” Bucky protested to Stark’s surprisingly muscled back. This operation, his job, maybe even his life depended on convincing Stark he wasn’t a cop. “Look, this is the biggest outfit in the city and I just want a paycheck, ok? My last boss came up short and ran back to Armenia without paying his debts. Word is you always pay up.”

“Sure you do,” Stark said, the corner of his mouth turning up. “We all just want a paycheck, right? Happy, remind me why we need muscle on 6th?”

“Cops have been hassling our people,” Happy said, taking a step away from Bucky and eyeing him with suspicion. “Trying to shake’em down, demanding a cut.”

“Right, right.” Stark picked up his welding mask but didn’t put it on. “What’s your name, copper?”

“I’m not-“ When Stark just raised an eyebrow and gestured like get on with it, Bucky said, “Jason. Jason Brooks.”

“That’s it? No street name?”

“My friends call me JB sometimes, but that’s it.”

“Alright, Blue Eyes,” Stark said as he pulled his mask back down over his eyes and fired up the torch again with a hiss of blue-white heat. “Get the cops to lay off my people, and you’ll get your paycheck.”

Happy put a hand on Bucky’s back and shoved him back out the door of the warehouse since they’d been dismissed. “That’s it?” Bucky said, bemused.

“Yeah, that’s it. Whaddya want, to provide a resume and cover letter? It’s not like the Boss has to check with HR here.”

“Does he really think I’m a cop?”

Happy shrugged. “Only the boss knows what the boss thinks. Guess not if he said you could stay. Come back tomorrow at 5.”

“Do you really think he’s a cop?” Rhodey asked when Tony was done welding, coming over to admire the smooth bead he’d put on the chassis of the classic car he was remodeling.

“Oh, he’s definitely a cop,” Tony said, stretching his back and shoulders. “But then I thought, we have a cop, we have cop problems, let’s let one take care of the other. Either he’ll get them to back off, or he won’t, but either way one of my problems will be solved.”

“Oh, so it’s not because he has a pretty face?”

“I didn’t know you were on the market, platypus,” Tony said with wide eyes. “I’m sure I could get his number for you, along with his bank account, social security number, and entire relationship history.” When Rhodey just rolled his eyes, Tony grinned. “He did have a pretty face, though, didn’t he? I wonder if that’s why they sent him.”

“Not unless the feds have changed their MO in a big way,” Rhodey said, handing Tony a towel to clean his hands and wipe the sweat off his face and neck.

“I’ll let him run around a bit and see what happens,” Tony said, voice turning serious. “I’ve got a good feeling about this one.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Like I had about Natasha. Or Natalie, whatever she’s calling herself now.” Natasha had been a plant from the Russians, trying to crack his operations so they could retake some blocks they’d lost a few years ago when Tony had taken advantage of infighting to push his boundaries out. She’d taken one look at the ladies working in Tony’s territory and taken to them like a mother cat with kittens. She’d also organized them with the ruthlessness of any NY City union boss, eliminating pimps with such prejudice it earned her the klichka the Widow. Six months into working for him, she’d flipped and given him everything she knew and was the reason why the Russians had been pushed back to their tiny toe-hold in Brighton Beach, with most of them heading back for greener territories back in the Motherland. “Put him with KT. He’s good with newbies.”

“You aren’t worried he’s going to find something?”

Because it was Rhodey, Tony gave it some thought. Whatever law enforcement sent Blue Eyes had apparently done a better job with his cover than the previous people did; so far Happy had been able to weed them out pretty early on. Tony couldn’t even say why he was getting a cop vibe from the new guy. He had short hair, little longer than military regulation, but the stubble on his jaw screamed six-day bender and he had the thousand-yard stare of an ex-soldier used to violence down pat. Hell, that part was probably true. Maybe it was the surprise in his eyes when he’d seen Tony; in Tony’s experience, most people who made their living on the streets had the ability to be surprised burned out of them long ago. “Nah,” Tony said eventually. “For the good stuff, he’d have to go through me. Anything else he’d just be nibbling around the edges.”

“Whatever you say,” Rhodey said with a shrug.

#tony stark #winteriron #bucky barnes #no powers au #tony x bucky #dracusfyre

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bosspigeon · 4 years ago

Text

hurts like hope

Pairing: M!Detective/Mason Word Count: 3100 Summary: Detective Juniper Fenn tries to figure out just what the limit on his incorrigible hope is, and when he’ll finally be able to stomp it out.

Hello I Am Here With More Self-Indulgent Character Study Nonsense. For $8000 a month, I Will Stop.

CW for vague descriptions/references to sex

Nothing has ever hurt Juni like hope has.

He wouldn’t call himself an optimist by any means. He’d probably settle on “optimistic pessimist” if pressed, which means always expecting the worst, because at least then he’s either right or pleasantly surprised.

But in spite of that philosophy, there’s a stupid, naive part of him that won’t die, no matter how much it’s beaten down—his dumb, desperate hope.

He hoped doing the best he could in school, never getting into trouble, never arguing with Mum or making her feel guilty for leaving him behind would show her he was good enough to acknowledge in more than impersonal letters and distracted phone calls on major occasions.

He was always disappointed.

He hoped working a job he didn’t care about, that didn’t suit someone as soft-hearted and anxious as he was, would make him feel closer to the memory of his father, would make him feel like he was doing something good enough to make people care about him like they did Dad.

Disappointed again.

He hoped letting Bobby walk all over him, use him, and placate him with saccharine-sweet murmurs of “Oh, angel, you’re so good to me” would make him see Juni as more than just a convenience, a doormat and a stepping stone to bigger, better things that would always matter more than Juni’s ever mattered to anyone.

The repetition got exhausting, after a while.

When he meets Mason, he thinks he’s given up on hoping. At that point, he just wants something for himself. He wants to be selfish. He wants to be wanted, even if it’s just for a tumble or two. Even if it’s just because his stupid, special blood suddenly means he’s catnip for supernaturals. Even if it doesn’t mean anything.

I’m doing this for me, he tells himself when Mason’s touching him for the first time, when strong, calloused hands are dancing up his sides, and he tries to shrink away, suck in his gut, and Mason squeezes with a pleased little growl that makes Juni whimper. I’m doing something for me, for once in my fucking life.

The lights are off. They crashed through the door without turning anything on, but Juni knows Mason can see him just fine anyway, and he wants to squirm, wants to hide, but Mason distracts him with a very thorough kiss, his touches gentle until Juni responds positively, his sharp eyes picking him apart, like figuring out what the detective likes is the only assignment that’s ever mattered.

And then Mason calls him stunning, and he’s done for.

He’s sure that’ll be it. One and done, and Mason will forget all about the messy, bumbling detective now that he’s whet his appetite. It hurts to think about, it hurts to hope, so he doesn’t.

(That’s a lie. He does. He always does, because he’s stupid.)

He tries to bury the hope like he’s done before, but it’s no use. Every time Mason sits as close to him as possible without physically touching him, every time he gives him one of those long, smoky looks, every time he puts out a cigarette when Juni asks or just doesn’t light one at all, every time he touches Juni with a gentleness that feels almost reverent, like Juni is something worth treating carefully, it fights back harder, hopes louder. In just a few months, the vampire’s got Detective Juniper Fenn’s fragile little heart on a string, and he doesn’t seem to know it.

If he did, would he even care?

Juni gets his answer before long.

He’s only seen me naked.

He told himself he wouldn’t hope. He wasn’t hoping. He knows better. He should know better.

But he hoped, and it hurt, and it’s exactly what he deserves, isn’t it? Once bitten, twice shy, and all that, but Juni’s been bitten so many times, and he never shies enough for it to matter. He walks right on into the hurt with open arms, like a moth to a flame, to a fucking bug zapper, and just licks his wounds until the next flame comes along to reduce him to ash all over again.

When will he learn?

If nothing else, he’s resilient. It’s one of the few things he’s got going for him. He knows how to roll with the punches and pretend everything’s fine, because he’s been doing it since he was old enough to know crying for his Mum wouldn’t do anything but give him a headache. So he runs out of Haley’s in tears—she’s known him since school, so she knows he’s a crybaby and won’t tell a soul—but at least he knows how to calm himself down before he walks into the station. He plasters on a smile, cracks a few jokes, and everything’s fine and dandy.

And then Juni’s fucking ceiling explodes and his room floods, because nothing can go right in his life. At least it wasn’t some supernatural attack this time, he supposes. Small mercies.

Of course, it’s got to be Mason who greets him, when he’s soaked to the skin and covered in plaster, and still recovering from seeing Mr. Yu naked.

And Mason apologizes.

The hope he thought had finally, finally died the slow, painful death it deserved springs back to life in his chest like one of those inflatable clown punching bags. He wants to be annoyed, because an apology doesn’t mean a whole hell of a lot if you don’t even know why you’re apologizing, and it feels more like Mason’s blaming Juni for having feelings (stupid, stupid feelings) rather than actually taking accountability for causing hurt, but he’s an idiot, so of course he reaches out, takes Mason’s hand, and asks the dumbest question he’s asked in his life. And he still has to Google literally every odd sound his car makes, because the poor thing is held together with duct tape and dreams at this point.

“What does this mean for us?”

And he’s blown off again, and when the hope shrivels up this time, he wants to grind it into the dirt with his heel, salt the earth so nothing grows there again, because really, when is he going to fucking learn? He wonders how Mum just turns off her feelings, and if that sort of thing can be taught. He wonders if she’d make the time to teach him, now that she’s “trying.”

He wonders if Dad was as much of a raw nerve of a person as he is, but it’s not as if he can ask anyone about it.

"You two… One of you is going to have to make the big leap, and he has no idea how."

Felix has never been shy about needling Juni about his ridiculous and obvious whatever-it-is with Mason (calling it a crush seems as childish as it is reductive, since he doubts it can be called a crush anymore once you’ve, uh, had sex) but this time it comes out... Softer. Gentler. Definitely annoyed, groaned out with a hearty eye roll, as if the two of them are personally responsible for all of Felix��s woes, but still... kind. Kinder than he expected, and that is enough to throw him off for Felix to leave him behind before he can even shake him and ask him what the hell that’s supposed to even mean.

No idea how?

Mason’s confusion when he apologized strikes a new chord, suddenly. Mason doesn’t know how he fucked up, just that he did. In a normal circumstance, with a normal guy, Juni would assume he was just being a dick. Of course he didn’t do anything he saw as wrong, he’d just be apologizing to get back into Juni’s good graces—and also his pants. It was certainly Bobby’s MO.

But these aren’t normal circumstances, are they? And Mason’s not a normal guy.

Juni doesn’t want to think about what he saw in the mirror at the carnival, but if he were any good at not thinking about things that upset him, he wouldn’t be in this mess. He squeezes his eyes closed and shakes his head, trying to clear it of the splashes of red, of the screaming, and he swallows until he can calm himself down.

At least he can distract himself with drumming up signatures for the blood drive. He thinks he can. But Mason is there, and he’s distracting, aloof and unamused and annoyingly gorgeous, and Juniper Fenn never professed to be a terribly strong man. There’s a gut-deep urge that draws him to the vampire, an itch under Juni’s skin to get close, poke at that sneering facade and see the softer bits underneath.

Juni’s seen so many of those softer bits, far more than he thought he could ever get when he tumbled into bed with Mason for the first time. He honestly expected to be ignored entirely once he gave him what he was after in the first place, but instead he was given little fragments of something more, and sentimental idiot he is, he’s been hoarding them and trying to cobble together something from the scraps he’s been given. So he drifts closer, pulled helplessly into Mason’s orbit, and he doesn’t even know what to say, so he just laughs awkwardly and needles Mason about not helping.

Which… works, somehow?

It doesn’t exactly go where he’s expecting it to go, conversation-wise, and he’s left reeling with Mason’s stark, shameless honesty. There’s something that warms him, knowing that the vampire seems to, if nothing else, respect him, in his own way? That anyone, much less someone as difficult to impress as Mason, thinks he’s good enough? Not just good enough, but ‘better than pretty much anyone’ he knows? Juni’s known Mason long enough at this point to understand some things about him, and one of the most obvious is how loyal he is. Loyalty is everything to Mason, and he’s fiercely protective of those that have earned it.

Juni’s fingers are slack enough with surprise that Mason can take the board from him and wander off to frighten the general populace into signing up for the blood drive, and Juni is left with his heart fluttering in a very damning way.

Don’t be an idiot, he tells himself fiercely, shaking his head as if that will rid himself of the pointlessly painful affliction he’s tried for years to shrug off. Just because he likes you as a person doesn’t mean he wants anything else with you.

Whatever weirdness still lingers between the two of them, Unit Bravo’s company makes what would have been a really boring, lonely task actually pretty fun, between Felix dancing around and chatting happily at any citizen of Wayhaven drawn into his orbit, Adam and Nate working together like a well-oiled machine to collect and transfer signatures, and Mason looking genuinely confused whenever someone is brave enough to weather his thunderous expression for the chance to chat with him, however briefly.

It’s nice to be with them all, and their comfortable rapport and playful banter makes it surprisingly easy for Juni to brush his confusing feelings aside and just be, for a while. At least until the banter halts sharply, and every eye is looking over his shoulder. “Hello, angel.”

Juni closes his eyes and stiffens, jaw clenching as a shudder ripples through him. No, no, no, not him. Not today.

Juni's relationship with Bobby was never terribly comfortable, but he’s always been something of a boiling frog cautionary tale. Bobby is not the sort of person who ever turns off the persona. He was rarely ever just Bobby, and Juni knows that hasn't really changed. While they dated, even when they were dumb kids, Juni was always stuck in the shadow cast by someone so desperate to stand in a spotlight they stepped on everyone they claimed to love in order to feel even a shred of that artificial warmth. Juni supposes he wasn’t much different, only the artificial warmth he craved came from Bobby.

He has no idea why Bobby is still so hung up on him. Juni always got the feeling he was never more than the road of least resistance to Bobby. He was easy. Low-maintenance. Didn’t kick up a fuss over being talked over and ignored, because not only was he used to that sort of thing, he was just so grateful to be anyone’s anything, he’d let the man get away with murder just to keep that illusion of happiness.

“What the hell did you just call him?” Mason snarls, stalking to Juni’s side. Juni’s trying to keep calm, trying not to turn into a complete disaster of a person under the sudden stress, but his fluttering awareness of the vampire is crashing into his shrieking fear of confrontation and turning into a messy cocktail that he knows all four vampires can sense. Vaguely, and a little frantically, he wonders if he just smells like anxiety all the time, if anxiety has a smell. It probably does.

“I… always call him that.”

He does, always has, and back when Juni was blindly obsessed with everything he pretended Bobby was, he convinced himself it was cute. Looking back, it always felt sleazy and fake, but Juni’s a master of nothing more than he’s a master of ignoring his own discomfort.

“Not anymore you don’t.” Mason takes another step forward, and for a moment Juni’s terrified he’s going to start a goddamned brawl in the middle of the square. There’s a mean little part of him that wouldn’t completely hate that, but thankfully that’s outweighed by the sensible part that knows he’d be the one stuck dealing with the aftermath. He’s reaching out to try and stop Mason from escalating things further when Adam, thankfully, intercedes.

And then Mason returns to Juni’s side, and a strong arm slips around his waist and hauls him close. His heartbeat goes crazy, and he can only be grateful that none of Unit Bravo are telepathic, because he’s sure his brain is making godawful dial-up noises. It’s a struggle to maintain politeness, but he does his best. Bobby, at least, seems to realize now is not a good time to try and pick at Juni’s defenses, with four government agents backing him up, one of whom has a possessive arm looped pointedly around him.

"Just because he's being polite, doesn't mean he wants you here.” Well, Mason’s greatest skill is reading people, and he’s probably figured out that Juni’s go-to defense mechanism is to pretend everything is fine and dandy and smile, smile, smile no matter what. Still, his protectiveness (if that’s what it is?) makes Juni’s stomach squirm. Mason’s almost baring his teeth at Bobby, who hopefully will not notice that his canines are a bit sharper than a normal human’s should be. “So piss off.”

Thankfully, Bobby is the sort of person who doesn’t like to start fights he’s not sure he can win, so he leaves with, of course, a sleazy parting shot that makes Juni shudder. He really, really hopes Bobby doesn’t find him when he’s alone. He’s got enough mental stress on his plate at the moment, thank you very much, Bobert.

He tries not to make a sad little noise when Adam ushers them back to work, which means Mason pulls away from him, but he’s not sure how successful he is, given the long look he gets from those smoky grey eyes. He throws himself into the work of cleanup to avoid anymore uncomfortable conversations, because he thinks he’s exceeded his quota for the day.

Of course, he thinks that, but he never knows when to quit, and he winds up sidling up to Mason again, fueled, once again, by hope.

He wants to smack himself with a rolled-up newspaper.

What’s the definition of madness, again? Doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different result? He wonders if Mum still has his old therapist on retainer. He bets she’d have a field day with whatever the hell he’s doing now. She’d probably be able to retire with the royalties from a paper picking apart his myriad neuroses and subtle self-destructive tendencies. Maybe he should ring her. Someone deserves to profit from his ridiculous inability to take a bloody hint, and it’s certainly not going to be him.

But, God, Mason’s hands are on him, tugging him in, and he’s helpless under that stormy stare, he had not a chance in hell to resist, not when Mason is being soft, and open, and what the hell does any of this mean?

Juni sometimes wishes he’d resisted when Mason first started teasing him, turned him down, tried to keep things professional and friendly rather than stumbling all over himself at the first sign of interest. He wouldn’t mind at all if Mason just wanted to be friends, because at least then he could still be close, still bask in the steadfast loyalty and companionship of a man who would take a bullet for any one of his team—his family—and Juni could keep his heart intact. But he knows without a doubt he never stood a chance. So he sinks into the attention, leaning into it like a flower towards the sun, bares his soft throat and softer heart and hopes against hope he won’t be torn open and left to bleed.

It’s never gone well for him before, but optimistic pessimism and all that. He’ll either get exactly what he expects and deal with the painful consequences like he always has, plastering on a smile until he can go cry alone and listen to sad music to remember how to face the world again, or the battered, bruised hope that won’t fucking die will finally, finally be rewarded.

Mason’s smile when Juni pitifully asks “That’s it?” leaves him breathless and dizzy in a way just a smile has no right to, but it’s so warm, so open and sweet, it blindsides Juni when he’s already weak. He’s completely helpless. Absolutely done for. Nate’s disapproval is hardly a blip on the embarrassment radar, because Juni is floating.

And, as if Mason isn’t satisfied with just completely rendering him a puddle, he hops off the table with a quick peck on the cheek and saunters off to clean up, leaving Juni’s scrambled thoughts to chase themselves around in a circle. It was just a chaste little kiss. It shouldn’t even mean anything.

Of course, to Juni, it means everything.

For once, just once, without mentally whacking himself with a broom, Juni tentatively allows himself to hope.

#the wayhaven chronicles #specialist agent mason #specialist agent m #twc fanfic #twc detective #pidge writes #oc: juniper fenn #HERE IT GOES HERE IT GOES AGAIN #this one technically comes before the other one ive posted #i just posted that one first bc of the way things appear on tumblr #so you hit this one first and then that one #that makes sense right?#hhhhhh anyway here's some more character study nonsense for juni #bc thats where im at i guess #its all v long and disjointed but thats what my brain is doing so uh #¯\_ (ツ)_/¯

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neerasrealm · 4 years ago

Note

awesome! can i please request friends to lovers with cody boi and demisexual!y/n? 🥺👉👈

YOU’RE IN LUCK I’VE BEEN WORKING ON MY CODY LORE RECENTLY. hopefully I did alright- I’m kind of inexperienced with writing demi characters so I apologize if I got something wrong.

"Oh, sorry."

Your hand brushes against another as you reach for the chemistry book you need for your assignment. You grab it and look up at the other person. He's taller than you and has pale skin and honey-brown hair that hangs over one of his green eyes, which blink at you. He scratches at an old, jagged scar on his jaw.

"You gonna read that?"

"Well duh," you frown at him. "I have an assignment to do."

"Ah." He nods, glancing aside. "What's your major?"

"Chemical engineering." You tilt your head at him. "You?"

"Pharmacology." He replies. You arch your brow. If he was studying pharmacology wouldn't you have seen him around campus? Then again- your college is pretty big so...maybe you just forgot his face. He steps back away from you, putting his hands in his hoodie's pockets. "Enjoy the book." He says in a bored tone before turning and walking away.

------

"Hmm…"

Once more, you're looking for a very, very specific book. For another assignment. A group one. "Uggghhh…" you mutter to yourself. You do not want to be that one guy who doesn't do any work and drags the group down. You already have one of those. As you step out from behind a bookshelf your eyes absently scan the long reading table before-

Wait.

You turn back and squint. The book! It's right there! And being read by...a pale skinned boy with honey-brown hair and green eyes. You glance around for a moment before walking over and taking a seat across from him.

"You gonna read that?"

He looks up at you, seemingly surprised. His eyes widen with realisation, and the smallest of smiles curls up his lips. "...well duh." You smirk and laugh a little bit. He sets the book down and tilts his head at you. "You get that assignment done?"

"Barely." You reply. "Now I got a group project to do."

"Ew." He wrinkles his nose in disgust. He glances from you to the book his hand is resting on. The book you need. "...what're your plans for after college?" He asks, trying to sound casual, but the question sounds like he’s inspecting you.

"A bio engineer. You?"

He blinks in surprise. "Same, actually. Specialising in curing diseases."

"Huh! I was gonna do the same. I wanna help develop medicines."

He looks at you for a moment, then smiles a bit. He closes the book and slides it over to you. "Good luck on the assignment." He says before standing up and walking away. You watch him leave with a small, curious smile.

----

"God that professor drives me crazy…" one of your classmates mutters as they walk past you. You can't help but agree.

Stepping outside you wrinkle your nose. It's raining. Great. And all you have is a thin jacket with no hood. A breeze blows by, and it feels like it's going straight through your clothes. You shiver.

"Hey." A familiar voice grunts beside you. You look up in surprise and are greeted by a taller boy in a hood wearing blue goggles. One of his eyes is obscured by honey-brown hair. He reaches up, grabbing the goggles and pulling them down. Green eyes blink down at you.

"Oh, hey." You tilt your head at him. "Book boy."

He smirks a bit, tossing his head to the side like he's mimicking you. "Is that my name?"

"Well you never told me your name."

He blinks in surprise, like he hadn't even realised he'd never told you his name. Or forgotten. You suppress a laugh. "Oh." He says. "I'm Cody. But my friends call me X."

"Why?" You ask, smiling a bit. He opens his mouth to reply, then closes it again, like he's stumped.

"It's my favourite letter?" He finally answers. You laugh loudly.

‘’Alright, X,’’ you smirk at him. ‘’Did you need something? Another book?’’

‘’Huh? Oh- nah.’’ he scratches at the scar on his jaw. ‘’I saw you out in the rain and uh-’’ he pauses, reaching into the brown satchel thrown across his side. He searches around in it, the contents jingling and clinking until he pulls out a folded up umbrella. ‘’I brought you this.’’ You blink in surprise. You reach out and take it. ‘’But I want something in return.’’

‘’Huh?’’

‘’One, I want my book,’’ he toys with the strap of his goggles as he speaks. ‘’And two...I wanna take you for coffee.’’

You arch your brow. ‘’...why?’’

‘’I think you’re neat.’’ he shrugs. ‘’I don’t talk to people much. And you have a similar major so…’’

You hesitate. It isn’t the first time a guy you don’t know well has asked you for coffee under the pretense of ‘you’re just neat’. You pause. He looks at you, seemingly disinterested. Like it doesn’t matter if you say yes or no.

‘’...sure.’’ you finally say. ‘’But you’re paying.’’

He wrinkles his nose. ‘’I’ll pay the tip.’’ he says. ‘’Sixty percent.’’

------

‘’Hey, y/n!’’

You look up as you step outside your lecture hall. Cody runs towards you, shaking his honey-brown hair out of his eyes. You smile brightly at him as he stops in front of you. Cody has been warming up to you over the past few weeks. He meets you after classes, walks you to your dorm or gets coffee with you, and always, always follows you to the library. He’s...odd. Initially he was standoffish, like he didn’t really care about your company all that much, but as you’ve spent time together he’s opened up a lot more. He’s excitable, and wildly passionate about all sorts of things. But mostly science- which suits you. He helps a lot with writing papers.

‘’Hey X.’’ you greet him. You walk past him and he trails after you. ‘’How was your day?’’

‘’Fine.’’ he says. ‘’Professor Harrison is still annoying.’’

‘’Ugh- so glad I don’t have his classes till next week…’’ you sigh. ‘’Glad it’s Friday, huh?’’

‘’Yeah.’’ he smiles a bit.

‘’You got plans for the weekend?’’

‘’Huh? Oh, uh...not- not really. Just- research…’’

You glance over your shoulder and smile at him. ‘’You wanna come over for a bit tomorrow?’’

‘’Co-come over?’’

‘’Yeah. We can hang out, watch a movie or something.’’

‘’...you want me in your house?’’

‘’Well it’s not really a house but- yeah.’’ you smile at him. ‘’What? I can’t invite my friend over to hang out?’’

His bright green eyes seem to shimmer. ‘’Friend?’’ he asks, excitement leaking into his voice. You nod, smiling a little bit. He’s funny when he’s excited. He beams wide. ‘’S-Sure! Yeah, I can postpone my research!’’

-----

‘’Knock knock!’’

You get up off your couch and move over to the door. Opening it, you’re greeted by honey-brown hair and green eyes beaming down at you. ‘’Hey y/n.’’ Cody chirps, shifting on his feet. You step aside to let him in. He walks inside quickly, holding coffee in each hand. He puts down the coffees and rummages through his satchel. ‘’I brought you snacks, and some books I thought you might like. Oh! I also bought you a spare USB, since you almost lost yours last week. You can back your files up on this one just in case-’’

‘’Cody.’’ you interrupt. He looks over at you. ‘’You...didn’t need to get me all of this.’’ you frown. You only invited him over for a movie- why all the stuff?

‘’...I wanted to help.’’ he murmurs. ‘’I know you like coffee, so I thought you’d like some. Then I thought we’d need snacks for the movie, and then I passed the library and remembered the USB thing so I-’’ he fiddles with his hands. ‘’Isn’t that what friends do?’’

‘’...Cody,’’ you say. He stares at you. ‘’You’ve never had a friend before, have you?’’

He hesitates, then shakes his head. ‘’Not really.’’ he shrugs. ‘’Nobody was ever interesting enough to talk to,’’ he glances aside. ‘’But...you’re different. I dunno how but- you are.’’

You fold your arms, looking at him for a few moments, then exhale gently. ‘’...you’re really weird, X.’’

-----

‘’Hey y/n?’’

‘’Huh?’’ you look up from the cheap chinese takeout the two of you ordered. It has become a routine for the two of you to hang out on weekends. And during the week. Cody meets up with you almost every day, and the days he doesn’t he’s...completely impossible to reach. Like he dropped off the face off the earth. But you don’t mind too much.

‘’What do you think of human experiments?’’ his eyes stare into you. You blink.

‘’If they’re safe, then yeah. If it clears animal testing first I think human testing should begin, if the correct safety procedures are taken.’’

He nods. ‘’Yeah, yeah but…’’ he taps his fingers on the table for a second. ‘’Sometimes we need to disregard those protocols. That’s a fact, right?’’

‘’...yeah?’’ you tilt your head, confused.

‘’So what if we used bad people for those experiments? Like death row criminals. It would speed up the process.’’

You blink for a moment. ‘’I mean-’’ you think for a moment. ‘’I dunno…’’ you look away. ‘’Why are you asking me this?’’

‘’No reason.’’ Cody looks back at you and shrugs. ‘’The topic came up in class earlier and it just crossed my mind.’’

----

‘’Knockknocknockknocknockknockkno-’’

You yank open your door and glare up at the person in the doorway. ‘’It’s three in the mo-’’ you pause. The tall, rude person in your doorway is breathing heavily through a gas mask. Their head is lowered, their face obscured by honey-brown hair. They cough.

‘’Sorry for wakin’ you.’’ he grunts. He leans up off the doorway and stumbles forward. You catch him quickly.

‘’Cody?! What the fuck?! Is that you?!”

"Yeah…" he coughs a bit and grips your shoulders for support. "I got in a fight…"

You pull him over to your couch. He collapses onto it and groans. You pull off his gas mask and goggles and look at his face. It seems to be okay- because of the gas mask probably. Good protection for his face.

"Where does it hurt?" You ask quickly.

"They fucking kicked me in the gut." He mutters back. He coughs a couple times. "H-Hey, did I drop my baseball bat…?"

"Baseball bat?" You stand up and look over at your door, which is still open. A baseball bat with nails sticking out of the head leans against the doorway. You move over and grab it, closing the door. "Why do you have this thing?"

"Self defense." He grunts back. "Can you get me some ice?"

"Sure, sure yeah."

------

"So like…" Cody looks up from his cereal as you speak. He's been staying in your dorm for the past few days, recovering from getting beat up. "Does this happen...often…?"

He looks at you. "Why would you think that?"

"Because you have a weapon for self defense and you have a scar on your jaw." You point at him. He palms at the jagged scar on his jawline.

"Oh." He says. "This one isn't from a fight."

You frown and tilt your head. "It isn't?"

"I was in a car accident when I was eight." He says. "My parents died in it. I didn't."

You blink, completely taken aback. "Shit- really?" You suddenly regret all the curious looks you've given that scar over the past while. "That's horrible- I'm sorry dude."

He waves you off. "It's nothing." He murmurs. It's quiet and awkward for a while before he speaks again. "I got a lot more scars from the crash. You wanna see?" He grins at you. You break out into a smile.

"...oh heck yeah I do."

-----

‘’Hey y/n?’’

‘’Huh?’’ you look up from your laptop and over at Cody, who’s laying on his back on your bed, staring at the ceiling through his blue goggles. He doesn’t answer for a moment.

‘’How long have we been friends?’’ His voice is small and thoughtful. Maybe even sad. You frown.

‘’Like….six months. Why?’’

‘’That’s a long time.’’ he muses, sounding surprised. He turns and looks at you. ‘’...I trust you.’’

‘’You trust me?’’

‘’Yeah.’’ he looks at the ceiling again. ‘’I trust you. A lot. I’ve never really- had a friend before...but I trust you.’’ he turns to you again. ‘’I’m glad I met you, y/n.’’

‘’...what sparked that?’’ you ask gently. Cody shrugs.

‘’Dunno. Was just thinkin’ bout stuff…’’ he’s quiet for a while. ‘’You ever think about how chickens are descended from dinosaurs so technically dino nuggets are dinosaur meat?’’ he breaks the silence.

‘’PFFFFF-’’

----

‘’Hey! y/n!’’

You look up just in time to see Cody sprinting towards you from the other side of the campus. His gas mask is on, even though he doesn’t seem to be coming from the campus’s lab, as are his goggles. His hood falls down, exposing honey-brown hair. You walk quickly toward him and he stumbles towards you, then doubles over gasping for air.

‘’Uh- you oka-’’

‘’HEY! YOU!’’

You look up quickly and see a campus security guard sprinting towards the both of you. Your eyes widen and Cody grabs your wrist. ‘’Canttalknowjustrun!’’ he hisses before sprinting off again with you in tow. You yelp as you’re yanked across campus, in between buildings, and off the grounds entirely. Eventually, you’re yanked into an alleyway and the two of you lean against the wall, panting and gasping for air. You flop your head against your shoulder and stare at him.

‘’Cody…’’

‘’Y-yeah?’’

‘’What the fuck?!’’

He gulps and looks at you. ‘’I...may have pissed off the security guard.’’

‘’How?’’

‘’I uh-’’ he pauses, looking at you. It’s silent for a few moments and he sighs. ‘’I’ve...been lying to you.’’

‘’Huh?’’

‘’I don’t actually attend your college,’’ he murmurs. ‘’I...graduated years ago. I’m just some- homeless dude who hangs around the campus sometimes for fun.’’

You stare at him. ‘’What...the fuck…?’’ he doesn’t say anything. ‘’Why would you lie to me?!’’

‘’Because I…’’ he shrugs. ‘’I didn’t want you to think less of me...I just wanted you to treat me like anyone else...like- a friend…’’ he sighs. ‘’...I’m sorry…’’

You stare at him for a few moments, then sigh gently. You lean off the wall and pat his shoulder. ‘’I don’t think less of you because of any of this,’’ you murmur. ‘’I’m hurt because- well...I thought you trusted me.’’ His head snaps to you, staring in surprise. ‘’It is weird that you hang around on campus yeah but- you’re not a creep. I know you’re not. You just- wanna be accepted. Right?’’

He pauses, staring at the ground. ‘’...yeah. I do.’’

‘’Then I accept you.’’ you hesitate for a second, then hug him gently. His arms cautiously and gently wrap around you. ‘’And you’re staying with me, okay? I don’t want you on the streets anymore. You don’t need to get hurt.’’

"...okay." he murmurs. "...thanks."

------

"I'm home!"

"Y/n!" Cody rolls over onto his stomach and grins at you from his spot on the couch, which is also basically his bed now. "How was your lecture? Learn anything interesting?"

You shrug off your backpack and walk over to the couch. Cody curls up to make room for you as you sit down. "It was alright." You murmur. Cody shifts around and leans against you, smiling up at you. He's cute, you'll admit. Like an excited puppy. Always happy to see you. You reach over and pat him. He moves his hand up and grabs your hand, squeezing it in his. He stays there for a few moments, staring up at you fondly before he withdraws his hand.

"Here." he grabs the remote from the other side of the couch using his socked feet, then grabs it with his hands before passing it to you. You take it and lie back, flicking through channels idly. You glance at him. He's still staring at you.

"You need something?"

He shakes his head. "Nah." He turns back to the tv. "I just like your face."

You smirk. "Thanks. Yours too."

------

"Uuuggghh…"

You sit up and bury your face in your hands. You're stressed. Extremely so. This damn assignment is impossible! You can't figure it out. At all. You're just about ready to give up.

"Y/n?"

You look up and see Cody crouched near your bed where you're sitting. He looks up at you with his best puppy eyes. "I think you need a break." He murmurs. He reaches up and takes one of your hands in his, pulling it down and tugging it. You sigh, push your laptop away and lie down so you're facing him.

"Fine."

He smiles and reaches into his pocket, pulling something out. Your favourite candy bar. "Here," he holds it up to you. "To get your energy back."

You take it and smile. "How'd you know it's my favourite?"

He smiles. "Lucky guess." That's a lie. Definitely. He climbs onto your bed and lays down beside you. You look at him while munching on your chocolate.

"Cody," you ask tiredly. "...what do you do when no matter what you can't find the answer?"

He blinks, then frowns. "I keep going," he answers. "I try to change something every time and peace together the answer. I work outside the box, break the rules…" he frowns and looks down. "...four hundred and twenty three times."

"Huh?"

He looks up at you, surprised. "Oh! Uh- it's nothing. I just remembered this one experiment I did...heh...took me four hundred and twenty three tries to get it right..." he seems suddenly fidgety and- maybe even sad.

"Damn." Your eyes widen. "What was the experiment?"

"...nothing important." He smiles at you. He reaches over and pats your cheek a couple times. "Now, cmere. You're taking your break in cuddle-town."

You squint at him. "...cuddle-town."

"Yep!" He lifts his arm up for you. "Cmonnnn...you know you wannaaaa."

You give him a stern look. Then a smile curls up your face and you laugh. "Alright, alright. I'll bite." you scoot closer to him and let him hug you tight. He smells of chemicals and takeout. It's a weird smell, but welcoming. He hums happily. "...Thanks X."

"No problem." He chirps back, nuzzling his face into your hair.

-------

"You made a mistake."

"Huh?" You're curled up against Cody, doing your homework. Part of your course is a mandatory math class. Ugh. Your back is resting against his front while you do your work. His arms are wrapped around you, hugging you gently. Not the most conventional position for math homework, but a damn comfy one.

His arm moves from around your hip and points at the paper you're writing on. "You need to multiply here. Not subtract. Then you'll get a minus, but you'll have to change the signs so your answer would be…" he pauses for a moment. "Minus X to the power of four over three Y to the power of six."

You blink and frown for a couple moments. "Oh!" You cross out your mistake and correct it. "Like that?"

Cody nods. "Exactly." His arm winds around you again. You smile a bit.

"How are you so good at math?" You ask. He shrugs.

"Studied my butt off in highschool and learned everything twice as fast as everyone else." He says with a laugh. You snicker.

"Why?"

"Wanted to prove that I could do it." He murmurs. He leans down and presses his face into your hair. He's probably sniffing it but you choose to ignore that because math homework is hard. "...why did you decide to become a scientist?"

"I wanted to help people." You murmur. He hums in thought.

"Why?"

You shrug. "It's the right thing to do, isn't it?"

He's quiet for a moment. "yeah," his hand runs up your stomach. "I guess it is."

-----

"I wanna take you somewhere."

You look up at Cody. "Okay," you say. "Where?"

"...dinner."

"Dinner where?"

"Downtown. Somewhere you like. Somewhere fancy."

You smirk at him a bit. ‘’Alright...when?’’

‘’Right now. Today.’’

You blink in surprise and look at the clock on the wall, then him. ‘’We’d have to get ready like- right now.’’

‘’Okay.’’ he stands up like it’s nothing. ‘’Go get ready.’’

Cody’s sudden wanting to eat out is odd. He’s always been happy with takeout and your own cooking, so why he suddenly wants to go out is- odd. But you’re not complaining. The restaurant he brings you to is nice, and even though he’s suddenly fidgety and a little on-edge, he’s still his regular, cute self. Spending time with him is something you enjoy deeply. Why else would you have let him live with you? He’s like your best friend- maybe even something more. While the two of you are leaving the restaurant his hand brushes against yours and he ever so carefully entwines his hand with yours. Okay yeah. It’s definitely something more.

Instead of walking home, the two of you end up walking to a nearby park. It’s a peaceful night. A little cold, but Cody’s hand feels warm and comforting. He stops suddenly, and turns to you. You stare at him.

‘’y/n?’’

‘’Yeah?’’

He hesitates. ‘’Do you…’’ he glances aside. ‘’...do you like me?’’ his body language is nervous, but his tone is full of forced confidence.

‘’Of course I like you.’’ you tilt your head at him. ‘’...you’re acting weird. What’s wrong?’’

He looks surprised for a moment. He quickly collects himself and gulps, glancing aside. ‘’I…’’ he fiddles with his hands. ‘’It’s...nothing, y/n. Just- forget it. I’ll take you home.’’

‘’Wait-’’ you stop and step toward him, grabbing his wrist. He stares at you in surprise. You yank him toward you, intending to pull him into a hug but- you yank too hard and Cody stumbles into you, making you, in turn, stumble backwards into a tree. You’re left leaning against it, with Cody leaning over you, staring down in surprise. It’s deathly silent for a few tense moments before a smile curls up his face. He snorts, then laughs, then falls against you giggling. You slowly crack up with him and reach up, gripping his arms as the two of you giggle at absolutely nothing. He lifts his head up and smiles at you. His face is only inches from yours. He’s so close you can see the lighter speckles in his green eyes and individual strands of his honey-brown hair. His features are soft. Welcoming. ‘’Cody,’’ you murmur. ‘’...I do like you. A lot.’’

‘’Huh?’’ he seems completely taken aback by this. ‘’Really?’’ he doesn’t sound like he quite believes you. You chuckle.

‘’Yes.’’ you smile up at him. Slowly, you reach up and cup his face in your hands. ‘’C’mere…’’ you murmur, pulling him down to you. You close the gap and kiss him gently. He tenses up, a quiet gasp of surprise escaping his mouth. Slowly, he leans into the kiss, kneading against you. He feels warm. Comforting. Safe. You shiver as he reaches down, grabbing your hip with one hand. The two of you pull away and stare at each other. It’s silent. You can feel his warm breath against your face.

‘’y/n?’’ he breaks the silence. You look up at him. ‘’...I love you.’’

A smile curls up your face. You grab him and pull him down for another kiss. ‘’I love you too.’’ you giggle. He grins and wraps his arms around you, squeezing you tightly. He lifts you up in his arms and nuzzles into your shoulder. You giggle and grip his shoulders as he swings you around until he stumbles and falls back. The two of you yelp out in surprise as you fall onto the grass. Cody is still holding you tight, staring up at you with a wide smile. You smile down at him lovingly and comb your hand through his honey-brown hair. ‘’I love you too…’’ you murmur once more.

#ask #frozensriracha #request #writing #x virus #x virus x reader #x virus creepypasta #creepypasta #creepypasta x reader

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downwiththeficness · 4 years ago

Text

A Need So Great-Chapter 4

Summary: Eva Moore is assigned to work the last year of her contract with the DEA in Colombia. She just wants to get to the end of her tenure, but she keeps getting drawn further into a string of murders in the city. It isn’t long before she’s forced to face the ghosts of her past.

Word Count: ~3,700

Warnings: Canon typical Violence

A/N: For the purposes of this story, Carrillo isn’t married--or, if you like, divorced. A/B/O dynamics are prevalent, and they come with their own warning. The overall rating for this story is Explicit, although not every chapter will contain adult themes.

Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 5, 6, 7, 8, 8.5, 9, 10, 10.5, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21

They’re sitting at the bar again. Rather, they are sitting at a table at the bar again. It had been a hard day for almost everyone sitting there. Javier, Steve, and Carrillo had managed to thwart a production route at the cost of three men. Connie had watched a young mother die in childbirth, the baby barely alive. Eva had watched from the sidelines, feeling guilty that there wasn’t anything that she could do. So, she’d suggested a drink. One drink had turned into two, then three.

At present, Connie was standing at the juke box, looking for a selection. Eva was watching her look through the offerings, wondering if she should switch to water so that she could drive home.

“I’m telling you,” Steve said, banging his hand on the table, a wide smile on his face, “He literally pissed himself when we busted in. Tell him, Javi.”

Javier held up his hands, “I’m not in this argument, man.”

Rolling her eyes, Eva pointed a finger at Steve, “You’re telling me that some big bad--,” she looked at Carrillo, “What did he call them?”

“Sicario,” he prompted, bringing his glass to his mouth to hide the smirk.

“Thank you,” Eva said, waving her hand a little, “Peed himself because you put a gun on him.”

Steve leaned forward, “Yes, that is exactly what happened.”

“Bullshit!”

“I’m—hey, Connie, can you get us another round—I’m not lying!”

Eva shook her head, “No, nope. Didn’t happen like that. You got no witnesses to prove it.”

“Just because I don’t have a witness doesn’t mean it didn’t happen.”

“You made the assertion, Murphy, you’ve got the burden of proof.”

“Fuck off.”

“You fuck off,” Eva shot back, “All you agents walk around like you’re hot fucking stuff because you got a badge and a gun and the support of the US government, tellin’ tall tales to make yourselves look like John Wayne. I swear to God, if I have to hear one more dick measuring contest on the break room I will literally puke.”

Connie came back to the table, a tray full of...not beer. She set it down and Eva counted enough shots for each of them, a couple salt shakers, and some cut limes. Oh, shit.

“We have to go to work tomorrow, Connie,” Eva censured gently, despite taking the glass from Connie’s outstretched hand.

Connie scoffed, “Like you’ve never had a hangover before.”

Eva noticed Carrillo hadn’t taken one of the glasses. She leaned over, nudging him, “C’mon, you gotta do this, too.” When he balked, she picked up one of the glasses and held it in front of him, “We’re all in this shit together, Horacio.”

He stared at her for a moment before pulling his lips between his teeth, a reflexive movement he sometimes did when he was thinking. She wiggled the glass, smiling when he relented. The salt shakers went around to everyone and Eva licked the back of her hand between her thumb and forefinger, tapping a bit out.

“What should we toast to?” Connie asked.

“We’re toasting?” Eva asked with a laugh, “I didn’t know you could toast over tequila shots.”

Connie leveled a baleful glare at her and Eva rolled her eyes, holding the glass towards the center of the table, “Its your toast, man.”

“To catching one of the bad guys,” Javier announced.

That was good enough for the group. The glasses made a dull sound as they clinked them together. Eva licked the salt from her hand, threw back the shot, and stuck the lime in her mouth. She hadn’t had tequila in a long while, but the movements were still buried in her muscle memory. Salt, shot, lime. Glancing over, she caught Carrillo pulling the lime from his mouth, tongue catching juice that remained on his lips. She dropped her gaze, feeling her neck heat an a way that had nothing to do with the alcohol. It was becoming more and more difficult to keep her eyes off him, let alone her hands.

To keep said hands busy, she threw the rind onto the tray with the empty glasses just as Connie shot up, both hands in the air.

“Another!”

Eva could feel her brows hit her hairline, “Steve, is she like this every time she drinks tequila?”

“Yeah, pretty much.” He lit a cigarette, a smirk appearing beneath his mustache.

She watched Connie head for the bar, “Is she gonna be okay?”

“Until she wakes up tomorrow,” he laughed.

“Cool, cool.”

The song on the juke box ended and ‘Careless Whisper’ queued up, the saxophone out of place and yet Eva couldn’t imagine that Connie would choose a different tune. She turned from the bar with a wide smile, shots completely forgotten.

“I love this song. Stevie, come dance with me.”

And there they went, Connie dragging Steve to the dance floor which, surprisingly, had quite a few people on it. Eva watched them go, laughing.

“I can’t wait to tell her all about this later,” she said.

Javier snorted with contained laughter, “I should have brought a camera. I’m getting another drink, you want anything.”

Eva and Carrillo both waved him off and he headed for the bar.

“He’s right, we should have brought a camera,” Eva said as she gestured towards where Connie was spinning Steve, pulling him in for a dramatic dip.

“We can always get the security footage from the owner,” Carrillo suggested with half a smile.

She looked at him, not quite believing, “You think he’d give it to us?”

One of his brows lifted, “We’d have to pay him.”

“We could do that.” She thought about it for a minute, “Man, that would be comedy gold at the office Christmas party.”

Connie gave a little shimmy, hands on Steve’s shoulders as they swayed back and forth. He was acting like he was annoyed by it, but Eva had been around him long enough to know that he was secretly enjoying every second of his wife happily dancing after a hard day’s work.

Leaning forward, Eva took up her discarded beer, eyes catching on the bar. She leaned a little towards Horacio, gesturing with the bottle.

“Looks like Javier’s trying to close a deal.”

He was talking with a pretty girl with long, curly hair. They were both smiling, she was touching his arm. Eva had heard some of his pick up lines, she wondered if he was actually using any of them. If so, he was sleeping alone tonight.

“He’s probably negotiating price.” When Eva looked to him in question, he shrugged, “She’s a sex worker.”

“No,” Eva gasped, looking the woman over to see how he could possibly know. “How can you tell?”

Horacio shrugged, “I see a lot of them in my line of work.”

“Oh?” Eva said with both brows raised.

He shot her a sarcastic look, “We arrest them from time to time. Most of them are informants.”

“To you?”

He nodded.

“And you pay them?”

He made a noncommittal sound, but the little roll of his neck gave her all the confirmation she needed. She opened her mouth to say something and thought better of it, shutting her jaw with a click.

His eyes narrowed, “What was that?”

“Nothing,” Eva responded quickly, sipping to distract herself.

“No,” he held up a finger, moving into her space a bit, “You were going to say something and you stopped. Why?”

She blinked, “It was an inside thought.”

His brows drew together in confusion. She felt her cheeks heat, embarrassed that she’d actually said ‘inside thought’ for the first time since she was a kid—a concept that her parents had taught her before she’d learned to filter out the sentences that should not be uttered.

“Ah,” she stalled a little bit, not quite believing that she was going to say this out loud, “An inside thought is when you think a thought that should absolutely not be said on the outside. Like, ever.”

His head tilted to the side, “Tell me.”

“Oh, no,” she shook her head, “Absolutely not. Were you listening? Its an inside thought, its supposed to stay inside.”

“How do you know its an inside thought?”

Eva hesitated, considering. She watched him figure out that he had an opening, his expression opening up just a little bit.

“Because people are usually insulted by inside thoughts,” she offered lamely.

“And you think I’ll be insulted by it? Or, Javi?”

She held her silence, pressing her lips together to keep from answering. He was a lot closer than was strictly necessary. Although the music was playing loudly, Eva felt herself zero in on him, focused on his every word and the shape of his mouth as he talked.

“So,” he continued, “We’ve established that you’ve had a thought that you don’t think is appropriate and you feel I would be insulted by it.”

Eva wondered if this was how people felt when he was interrogating them, somewhere between helplessly drawn in and desperate to change the subject.

She cocked her head to the side, “We’ve established nothing other than I had an inside thought and voice that they are typically insulting.”

“That’s a fine distinction,” he conceded turning a little in his chair to face her a bit more fully, “But, there’s only one way to really settle this. You have to tell me.”

Eva ran her thumb over her brow, dropping her eyes to the side and breathing deep, “I was going to say … that I was surprised you had to pay them.”

He paused, then, “Why is that?”

She was having a hard time breathing, but she couldn’t stop herself from saying, “Because, if it were me, I’d probably just tell you.”

Whatever he might have said after that was cut off by Connie sliding into her chair with a high pitched giggle. She was sweating a little, leaning hard into her husband with a wide smile. She looked happy. Eva smiled at her, saluting with her beer.

“Nice moves, sweetie.”

“Ah, thank you! I bought, like, ten songs, so we’ll be getting back to it soon.”

As if on cue, the song changed and “We Built this City” started up. Eva shook her head, her attention snagging on Javier at the bar. Another man had walked up and he was arguing with him, tongue rolling across the front of his teeth. He looked pissed.

Carrillo noticed her attention straying and she felt him tense a little next to her. A few more guys had walked up.

“Aw, shit,” she said, already moving to stand as the fight broke out.

Glass shattered, and Eva circled around Carrillo to where Connie was sitting, pulling the woman with her over and down towards the bar. She could hear voices screaming and the sound to flesh hitting flesh. Without much care, she shoved Connie into the space between the bar and the wall, holding up a finger and leveling a determined look at her.

“You don’t move,” she said. “Not an inch.”

You say you don’t know me, or recognize my face.

A hand grabbed Eva’s ankle and she yelped as she was dragged out into the fray. The man was average size and weight, but he had the jump on her. He climbed over her body and had his hands around her throat before she could get her bearings. Eva threw both hands out and into his shoulders, balancing his weight while she tucked her knees into her chest. Her hips shimmied and she was able to get her heels up. She kicked. Hard.

As hard and as fast as she could, Eva kicked him in the face until he let go of her neck. And then, she grabbed his wrists to keep him there and kept kicking until there was so much blood that it looked like a mask of red had settled over him. With a grunt, she shoved him to the side, wheezing and touching her neck gingerly.

Too many runaways eating up the night

Across the room, Javier was holding a guy down while Steve gave him a vicious kick. Not far away Carrillo was dodging a punch, throwing a hard uppercut and catching the guy beneath the chin. His opponent’s head flew back with such force that Eva was kind of surprised that it was still connected. He fell to the floor, unconscious.

Eva caught his eye and she gave a little wave, seeing his eyes flick to her right a little too late. A man wrapped both arms around her chest, caging her arms in. Carrillo’s eyes narrowed and he was moving towards her. Eva yelled and swung both legs out in front of her to mid air. The man struggled under the sudden weight of her body. Bend, snap, roll the shoulder. He fell over her arm to the floor, winded. She used the palm of her hand to hit at his exposed throat, satisfied when he choked.

And then he was right there with her, his scent sharp with the exertion, his hands carefully running over her arms to check for injury. Eva couldn’t help but to smile, a little dazed.

“You good?”

“Yeah,” she breathed, pushing the hair from her face. “Oh, fuck!”

One of the idiots had pulled a gun. And, while she knew he was armed, Eva couldn’t stop the automatic response that kicked in. She shoved Carrillo down behind an up ended table as the shots rang out. Curling over him, Eva covered her head, eyes squeezed shut.

We built this city, we built this city on rock and roll.

A few more shots and he was rolling her into the wood of the table, rising up on a knee and pulling his pistol. Eva plugged her fingers into her ears, feeling his body sway a bit with the recoil.

We just want to dance here. Someone stole the stage.

His hands slammed down on the floor as he ducked down. The table behind her scooted forward as a shot ricocheted into the far end, exposing him.

“Horacio,” she yelled, grabbing his polo shirt and pulling him back and into her chest.

The movement set him off balance and his full weight collapsed on her, pushing all the air out of her lungs. Another shot, another screech as the table moved. Horacio pushed to his knees again, firing off another shot. Eva looked around for something they could use that would be better cover. There was literally nothing.

Marconi played the mambo, listen to the radio.

And then she saw it, an unbroken bottle had rolled from somewhere in the bar, right next to a discarded bar towel. Perfect.

“Cover me,” she yelled upwards, already crawling the few feet out to it.

Horacio cursed a blue streak, firing off a few rounds as she shuffled back to him, “The fuck are you doing?”

“Give me your lighter,” she demanded, opening the bottle and shoving the towel inside with two fingers.

To his credit, he hesitated only a fraction of a second before he was digging into the pocket of his khakis and handing her a silver Zippo.

“Thank you,” Eva said primly as she tipped the bottle over a bit to soak the towel.

We built this city. We built this city on rock and roll.

Getting to her knees, Eva looked at Horacio, who was eyeing both her and the bottle with a look a clear and unadulterated delight. She really, really liked when he smiled.

“Bottom’s up!”

And then she tossed it in the direction of the people shooting at them, smiling wide when it hit the mark. Fire burst forth, giving Javier and Steve enough of a distraction that they could get a clear shot.

Who rides the wrecking ball into our guitars?

Eva knelt on the floor, watching over the rim of the table as they went person by person, disarming the ones that were still alive. Eventually, Horacio stood up and she followed suit, moving to check on Connie.

She looked pissed, “I was having a good fucking time and these assholes…” She sighed deeply.

“I know,” Eva agreed, “Next time we do this at your place. Less chance of gunfire there.”

“Tell me about it.”

We built this city.

It took an hour or two for the boys to clean up the mess, cuff a few people, and clear the scene. Eva sat with Connie at the bar, drinking coffee and watching them work.

“I saw what you did there with that guy,” Connie commented, leaning one elbow on the bar, “How did you learn all that...self defense stuff.”

Eva shrugged, “After my marriage ended I thought it would be good to learn a few things, just in case.”

Connie didn’t need to know that she’d learned it in case one of her husband’s family members decided to get vengeance.

“Divorce?”

“Death,” Eva clarified.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be, it was the best thing for everyone involved.”

Connie laughed a little, “Even your husband?”

“Especially my husband,” Eva confirmed with a smile. “Real asshole, let me tell you.”

Eyes following her husband across the room, Connie asked, “He cheat on you.”

“Worse,” Eva answered, her good mood evaporating.

She closed her eyes and ran a hand over her face, working to right herself. She was saved by Javier approaching, a little saunter in his walk.

“The owner has agreed not to press charges for the fire setting.”

Scoffing, Eva snipped, “What’s a little fire to bullet holes?”

There were several lining the walls. Almost every piece of furniture not nailed down to the floor was either overturned or broken entirely. The table she’d been hiding behind with Horacio had splinters up and down it. If she hadn’t thrown the bottle, the next round of bullets might have gotten through the wood to the other side.

“If anything, this’ll make this place more popular,” he said, tapping out a cigarette and lighting it.

Eva sighed, “Did you have to start the fight?”

He looked at her, “I didn’t start it.”

She rolled her eyes, “I’ve known you for like three months. You started it. I don’t know why, but you started it.”

Connie had the good grace to lift her brows and spin a little on her bar stool, sipping her coffee. Javier took a drag and shrugged.

“Right,” Eva said, hopping down. She waved to Connie, “See you at next week’s class.”

She grabbed her purse and headed for the exit, more tired than she cared to admit. So tired, in fact, she didn’t notice that Carrillo had followed her out.

“Do you ever park closer to where you’re going?”

Eva jumped, hands coming up in front of her. When she recognized him, she laughed a little, “Sorry, wasn’t paying attention. And, to answer your question: I like the longer walk. Gives me time to, I don’t know, settle myself.”

He nodded, “Maybe consider parking a little closer when you know you’ll be staying after sundown. Might be safer.”

At this Eva shot him a bemused look, “I think you either shit canned or shot anyone who’d give me trouble.”

He put his hands in his pockets as he walked with her, “You’re the one who set them on fire.”

She gave him a deferential nod, rolling one shoulder, “You may have a point. But, I’d argue that my actions were justified, given that they were shooting at us. I mean, I haven’t been here long, but I’m pretty sure the cultural differences aren’t so dissimilar that—were I to be fired upon, I could be forgiven for returning fire.”

They’d reached her car, and she opened the driver’s door, throwing her purse in the passenger’s seat before turning to look at him. He was just… staring at her, hands in his pockets, looking mystified.

“What?”

He took a breath, “You took one look at that gun and threw me down to cover me.”

Eva paused, going over the memory a bit and agreeing with him, “Yeah, I did.”

“Don’t do that.”

“Don’t save your life?”

He stepped into her space, “You save yourself. Let me take care of me.”

“I make absolutely no promises, Carrillo.”

Slowly, to give her time to know what he was doing, he curled a finger beneath her chin, “You do that when you’re trying to deflect, use my last name.”

In the moment, she hated him a little. It had taken years to develop her defense mechanisms so that she could function normally with people. A joke here, a little sarcasm there. Just enough to keep them at a distance. And, here he was, seeing through her bullshit.

“You are frustrating,” Eva said without any bite.

He smiled, “I’ve been told that.”

“Did they also tell you that you have the cutest little dimples when you smile?”

The laugh that followed was surprised and Eva was gratified to see that he was blushing. She curled a hand over the arm still holding onto her, fingers curling over his bicep.

“No, no one has told me that,” he said after he’d gathered himself.

She considered it, “That’s a shame.”

“Is it?”

They’d moved closer together. Eva could feel the heat from his body, the smell of him that she liked so much tinged with sweat and smoke.

She settled against the side of the car, “Damn shame.”

He ran the back of his fingers over her cheek, considering, “I’ll take your word for it.”

“See that you do.”

Horacio made a soft sound of assent, leaning down to press a soft, tentative kiss to her mouth. He pulled back, but not far, dipping down again for another soft kiss that was entirely too short. Eva’s every breath was filled with him, her skin alight. She leaned up, taking the kiss she wanted. Deeper, harder.

Hands gripping both her hips, he pushed her into the car, his weight preventing escape—not that she particularly wanted to move. The feeling of being held almost immobile and kissed senseless was delicious in a way that made her toes curl. She clung to him, inviting more kisses, more touches—just more.

He was the first to break away, breathing hard, “Get in the car.”

“What?”

He shook his head as if to clear it, “Get in the car before I drag you to my truck and take you home with me.”

She smirked, “You probably wouldn’t have to drag me.”

He leveled a serious look at her, “Car. In.”

“Sure thing, Big Guy,” she said, sliding into the seat. “See you at the office.”

#narcos #horacio carrillo #carrillo #A Need So Great

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tellerford13 · 4 years ago

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MO ASTOR- CHAPTER 36

We don’t own the bikes, brothers, or any “related” Sons of Anarchy, trust us, if we did we wouldn’t have the time to write. No money is being made from our stories. So, please don’t sue. It’d be a fruitless endeavor indeed. That being said, Harley, Journee, and any other newbies are ours, and we don’t share. :Whispers in creepy voice: “My precious.” The universe This reality is a mix of cannon, and our own ideas. We strive to keep the boys cannon, but since we will be shifting around some of the events, that will reflect in our writing and their personalities as well. It’s our goal to provide you with quality fiction, and solid, fleshed out OFC. We appreciate constructive criticism and love LOVE reviews, they are a writers life blood and definitely help encourage us and inspire us. A/N: Oh My God We’re Back Again. It’s been a long time, but we never lost our love for Mo Astor. We’ve been plotting, and writing, and editing behind the scenes. We’re back to posting once a week. Thank you to all the readers who’ve left comments, favorited, and waited patiently. Grab a drink, sit back, and get ready to become lost in the world we’ve created.

Mo Astor Chapter 36

Jax

It’s been a long time since it was just me and my baby sister. I’m looking forward to the one-on-one, though I’d never admit it out loud. She’s been my rock through some hard times.

I imagine she’d say the same for me. When life around you is constantly shifting, you look to each other to remain stable. That’s something most don’t understand. That bond you have with someone who holds you down through all the bullshit is lifelong. It doesn’t break when you do jail time, have a difference of opinions, or get busy with life. So yeah, I guess civilians right, we ain’t like them.

“Morning,” I call as I walk into the house and disarm and reset the alarm.

“You’re making me regret giving you a key.” I follow her voice into the kitchen.

“You love it when I visit,” I retort.

“Did you tell the incubator I’m coming with you?” She asks cutting straight to the point.

I snicker. “Believe it or not, she prefers you.”

Journee scowls.

“Proves how fucking stupid she is,” she mutters.

“Jesus, Baby J. hold a grudge much?”

“Pot meet kettle. Mr. Let’s measure our dicks with Kick.” She finishes rinsing off her dishes, and piles them into the dishwasher.

“That was setting boundaries.”

“Riiight. Whatever you need to help you sleep at night. At least I own my crazy ass tendencies.” She pouts.

“’Cause that’s better?” I lean against the counter beside her.

“Oh, yeah bro. Always best to know yourself.” She winks

“You’re full of shit.”

“Guess that’s why my eyes are brown, huh? Wait that can’t be true. Cause your eyes are sky blue, J.”

“You’re supposed to be coming along for moral support,” I reminder her wryly.

“I am.” She pats my cheek as we head out of her house towards my bike. “I’m breaking you down to build you up stronger.”

“That’s some fucked up Gemma logic.” I mutter.

“She did raise us to be like her.”

“You say that with a straight face and it becomes a scary story.” She laughs.

“I know.”

“Such a little shit.” I’m smiling as I say it. Like a true little sister, no one can get away with more bullshit than her, and she knows it. It reminds me of the year she and Tommy were as thick as thieves. He was a lot like her in many ways—more soft spoken and thoughtful. As an only kid she had a crazy patience for him, reading him books, and letting him trail along beside her.

Part of me wondered if they’d have ended up together if things were different and she’d be a Teller for another reason. Especially with how things ended up for me and Lee.

I push the thought out of my mind. What if’s did nothing but drive you crazy.

“So, what exactly did I agree to go to anyway?” she asks.

“Don’t you think you should’ve asked that beforehand?” I tease.

She shakes her head. “You know I’m your ride or die.”

“I do. Basic check-up, and then lunch. I get the feeling she’s got some new man.”

She whistles. “Damn that fast?”

“Hey. If it keeps her from dicking with me and Lee, and doesn’t affect my boy, let her be happy.”

“All kidding aside.” She shuts the door to the dishwasher and turns to me. “ I’m proud of you, big brother. You’ve come a long way.”

My neck grows hot. “We both know Lee had a lot to do with that.”

“Your, opening your eyes and seeing what was in front of you did that. You and Lee were always just a matter of when not if.” She starts the wash cycle.

“So sure.” I roll my eyes.

“I could see it. Over the years you got so close, but something always kept you from clicking.” “Deep down I knew in order to keep her I’d have to get my shit together, and I wasn’t ready to do that. So I stayed back ‘cause fucking things up between us wasn’t an option, you know?”

“Things came out the way they were meant to.”

“You really think that?” I glance into her soft brown eyes, and she gives me that Madonna smile that makes me feel like everything is going to be alright. I can always be real with my sister because I know she’s going to give me the truth. Wither I want it or not.

“I do.” She reaches over and places her hand on mine. “You both had some work to do before you could commit to forever.”

“You think I have it in me? Forever and kids and all that?” I ask cautiously. So far, I’m screwing up the baby thing with my first born. It’s scary thinking of another person depending on me, let alone a child. It changes everything, and our life is unpredictable.

“You are your father’s son. Is there even a doubt?”

“Naw.” I lie, trying to fake it till I make it like I always do.

“Didn’t think so. You’re paying for lunch right? ‘Cause I’m starving.”

I laugh.

“You about to try to put a hurting on my wallet?” I hand her my spare helmet before climbing on my bike.

“Better than putting a hurting on your ex.” She says with a shrug, clipping the helmet on.

I chuckle, pulling my helmet on.

“You have a valid point. Damn you are our mothers’ child.”

She blows a raspberry, before mounting my bike. Little sis knows since she’s doing me a favor, she has the upper hand—and she’s going to milk that shit for all it’s worth. It’s the Teller way.

~~~~~~~ I’m pleasantly surprised and slightly bewildered by the manicured lawn and uncluttered space by the garage. The large black garbage cans are lined up neatly by the curb on the street.

Pulling into the driveway, I remove my helmet and pause to take in the freakish cleanliness it’s lacked in prior visits. This is above and beyond the duties we assigned the prospect keeping tabs on Wendy’s house.

“Well. This is different,” Journee whispers.

“Yeah.” I frown and turn to look over my shoulder.

“Maybe Ma sent over multiple prospects to tidy up.”

“Nu-uh.” Journee shakes her head.

“She said this was your mess to handle.” I purse my lips. “Which means it’s up to me to help you out with the pile of shit you’ve landed in.” Journee sighs.

“I feel the love.”

Journee shrugs. “I’m only speaking the truth big bro. You choose poorly for your first baby Mama. I told you how I felt about her long before you decided to give her your crow.”

I scowl. “No need to rub it in.”

“I’m just reminding you to listen to me. Sometimes I know things.” She flicks my ear and climbs off the back of my bike gracefully.

“Let’s get this torture session over, please.”

“You think it’s bad for you? I got eighteen years of this bare minimum.”

Storing our helmets in my saddlebags, I wrap an arm around her shoulders. “Come on, be my buffer.”

“I should let you go up in flames,” She mutters.

“That’s not sisterly,” I say with a grin.

“Jaxass.” She mutters.

We climb the steps, and the door swings open to reveal Wendy before we can even knock. My jaw drops at her appearance. I glance over to find Journee equally shocked.

She looks like a fucking Stepford wife in a pale-yellow sundress complete with a flared skirt and heels. Last time she dressed like this a waffle iron came flying at my head.

“Jackson. Cat got your tongue?” Wendy smirks.

Journee growls. “Aaaah, the little cocoa sidekick.”

“You know it only takes nine months to bake a baby, and you’ve got what...” Journee taps a finger against her cheek. “Less than three months left?”

“Nice to know you can count,” Wendy sneers.

This is a new woman in front of me. I’m glad that she’s gotten the idea of us getting back together to be a family out of her head, but this one-eighty makes me uneasy.

I scan her body, and notice the thick strips of white medical tape over her entire right forearm.

They stand out against her nineteen-fifties get up.

“The fuck.” I grab her arm. “What are you hiding?”

“Your mark. Which meant nothing.” She spits, tugging her arm away.

“Let me see.”

“Fuck you, Jackson.”

Journee moves forward, blocking the doorframe with her body to keep me from dragging the smart-mouthed bitch out.

“I swear to God. If you’re using again.” My breath quickens, and my visions tints red as rage builds up inside me like an inferno about to blaze out of control.

“You can take it off on your own. Or I can make you,” Journee says softly.

“One of these days, someone is going to put you in your fucking place. You don’t even belong here,” Wendy growls.

Journee climbs up another step, getting in her face.

“I know exactly who I am, where I belong, and where I’m wanted. You could never say the same, could you? Poor little lost girl, with loose legs begging to belong.”

Wendy blinks and turns away. Her hands tremble as she unwraps the tape and thrusts her arm toward me. “Look your fill. You dick.”

I peer down at the unmarred skin, and my knees nearly go weak with relief. “It better stay this way.”

“I have someone to take care of me now, Jackson. I don’t need your bullshit concerns.”

“The minute you give birth to my baby you can do whatever the hell you want. Until that time, your business is mine.”

“It’s my baby too.” Her tone makes me stand up straight.

“What was that Wendy?” My voice drops an octave. “Is the junkie with no job trying to tell me she thinks she’s the better parent?”

“Inside.” Journee whispers.

Of course, We always have to keep up appearances here in town.” My mother’s voice plays in my head.

The fresh scent of cleanser and scented candles greets me. The house has never looked this good.

Who turned her into June Cleaver? I search the place for clues. The laundry basket resting on the couch has t-shirts that are far too big for Wendy, and the black boxers are a dead giveaway.

I don’t feel anything for her. I haven’t for far longer than I care to admit. But I do worry about the company she’s keeping with my boy still in her belly.

He’s not a junkie. Shit’s too put together for that.

“Going somewhere?” Journee asks, nodding toward the kitchen.

I spot the half-packed boxes and bare spaces on the counter.

“I don’t want to stay in this house of lies.” Her dark eyes burn into mine.

“And where do you plan on going?” I ask. She looks away.

“Do you really want us to have to find you?” Journee asks.

Wendy crosses her arms under her breasts, pulling the material tight around her waist.I take in the bulge that’s grown over the past month.

“I’m just preparing.”

“You’re not supposed to be lifting heavy things right now.”

“I have help,” She snaps.

“You aren’t the only person who’d ever want me.” Her hands ball into fists. “If you can move on, so can I.”

“No one is saying you can’t, you crazy bitch. Calm the fuck down before you distress my godson. There’s no reason for everyone to get all worked up. We get it. Wendy bagged herself a new man. Good for you. We’re here to get our report on the baby, and we’ll be gone. The quicker you update us, the sooner we’ll be out of your hair.” Journee holds her hands out like she’s wrangling two high school kids about to fight.

Huffing, she stalks over to the large chair and sits down crossing her ankles, like some kind of proper lady. I’m in the fucking twilight zone. I lean forward with my arms on my knees, drinking up her reports. My boy is growing properly and healthy. It’s more than I could’ve hoped for, considering how fast and hardcore we were living when she got knocked up.

We were both empty shells looking to fill up spaces neither of us could ever fit into.

It’d been fun for a while, but it had never been built to last. She wasn’t even a consolation prize post-Tara tear down— Wendy was a pretty thing to warm my bed and play by the club rules without question. Now I’m paying for my poor choices.

“You satisfied?” Wendy asks. Journee looks at me, and I nod.

“For now.” Journee nods her head, and we both rise.

“Same time next month, Case.” Journee drawls. Such a little shit. Makes a brother proud.

She scowls as we leave.

“What. the fuck, Jax?” Journee whispers.

I shake my head. “Not sure, but if he keeps her shit together for the next 2 and half months, I don’t much care.”

~~~~~~

Sitting down at the table in Hannah’s, I wait for J to finish most of her meal before bringing up the main reason I wanted to go out to lunch after.

“All right Baby J, so…I gotta admit there's another reason I brought you along today.” I begin, wiping my hands off with my napkin. She rolls her eyes playfully at me. “Of course there is. So, which of my skill sets will you need for this favor? I've got a few spots saved in the woods for disposal and Hap gave me an amazing cleaner kit for my birthday.” She says with an excited grin and a bloodlust in her eyes. She is so her father’s daughter. I can't help but chuckle, shaking my head in Disbelief. By looking at her you'd never guess what she was capable of. But with her dad the Sergeant at Arms of Grim Bastards, and her mentor Happy Lowman…there’s a side to her that I never want to get on the bad side of. “Well I do need your skills, just not those ones.” I say, taking a sip of my water. She raises a curious eyebrow at me before smirking.

“Sorry bro, my other skills are only allowed to be enjoyed by my husband and my wifey. As kinky as my old man is, I don't think we're ready to swing just yet.”

She teases with a wink and I damn near spit my sip out. “Jesus J, not that either! Shit little sister, I’ve only just begun playing in Lee's pussy myself. No other dick is going to be poking around in her till it’s been claimed to completion.” Her eyebrows shoot up.“Already planning on making her your second baby mama?” "Second and final. But not just yet. I just got her to say I love you to me. If I plant the seed too soon, I'm worried she'd rip out the roots.”

She rolls her eyes. “Naw Bro, Lee'd never terminate.”

“Oh I know, I wasn't talking about the baby. I was more concerned with her going Loreena Bobbitt on me.” I say honestly, shifting in my seat at the imaginary pain. She bursts out laughing, nodding her head in agreement. “Yea, that uh, that might be more likely.” She says between adorable little snorts.

I nod my head in agreement. “Exactly and seeing is how I ain't planning on changing my singing voice anytime soon, I'm real careful how I'm navigating this one.” Feels like the story of my life right now. It’s been a unique experience having the girl be hesitant with me.With Tara and Wendy, we went full steam ahead, and the crows afterwards all but jumped on my dick the minute I looked at them.

Lee is different. And being with her like this has shown me just how special she is.

She’s worth the time and the energy to make this work for both of us.

J offers me a soft, approving smile. “That's good to hear.” I nod. It’s a relief knowing how much baby sister supports us. None of this would’ve happened without her, and I know she’s got my back to help me navigate these new relationship waters. “Besides she's got that IED thing in her arm.” I add.

She bursts out laughing again and this time I'm a little confused.

“It's an IUD dumbass. Lee doesn't have a fucking bomb implanted in her arm.” She teases and I can't help but chuckle.

There's a joy in her eyes I haven't seen since before the whole Kyle debacle. I'm not the least bit surprised her old man helped put it there. I've known about his crush on her for years, but I knew better than to say shit. I figure if Chibs was taking his time there had to be a reason. Brother was one of the most strategic mother fuckers I knew. I was fifteen when he patched in, and after losing my old man, I saw him like the big brother I never had. There was no one I listened to and trusted more than Filip Telford.

I loved Ope and, there would always be a lifelong bond between us, but when he met Donna, we both felt something sever between us. He became a family man almost overnight, and I wasn’t done sewing my wild oats. Plus, the way the whole thing went down with him hurting J, it never sat right with me. Those two had been headed in a direction that would’ve been something real special. But then Mary got involved, dragged him away and he came back with Donna.

I can still feel my anger at the look of heartbreak he’d put on Journee’s face.

He’s been out a few months now and I rarely see him. The separation has been painful, but he’s trying to go the way of the straight and narrow for his family. Donna’s laid out the rules damn clearly. If he gets into trouble again, she’s out. Should’ve had brown babies Ope. This was the real danger of marrying and procreating with a Civi. They never fully understood our world, and few respected the price that sometimes must be paid to be apart of it. I don’t resent Ope for finding love, but I do resent his love for taking him away from his family.

“All right, Well then I'm lost Jay boy. If it ain’t cleaning and it ain’t playtime…what could you need from me?” She asks, taking a sip from her drink. My stomach flutters excitedly. I reach into the pocket of my cut. Producing the crinkled, early stages of a sketch I’ve been working on, I slide it over to her.

“Need the artiste in you little sister.” She glances at me and then opens the paper. My excitement turns to nerves as I watch her eyes studying the picture presented to her. "What am I looking at here J?" She asks and I scowl slightly. "I mean I know I'm not a great artist like you, but you can tell it's a crow.”

She chuckles. “I mean I know that, but I’m wondering why I'm looking at crow?”

"Right so, I need your help J. I want to design a new crow for Lee. After the shit with Kick, I need her inked. I want everyone to know she's claimed.” Her eyebrows shoot up again. “Wait what? A new crow, but your dad designed the first one. Why do you want to do new?” “I know dad designed the first one, but he designed it for my mom. And then ya know other old ladies got it and it just sort of became trademark.” I pause. “But there's nothing trademark about my old lady. I want her to have one just for her, cause she's damn special to me and she deserves something that represents not just me but us. Like you and Chibs did. Seeing the crow designed specifically for the two of you made me realize, I don't want her wearing the same generic shit that both Tara and Wendy got. Lee is never gonna be an ex, I know she's my forever and I want this crow to be more than just the generic SAMCRO trademark.”

I explain my thought process to her watching the smile tugging at the edge of her lips.

“So, that's what I need your help with. No one loves Lee as much as me and no one knows her better. I've got an idea and I can explain what I want, but I need your help executing my vision and making it something that represents us both and that she'd be proud to wear.”

I wait for her reaction. She studies the sketch and runs her fingers over the lines. “Where are you thinking she wears her brand?” I can’t help but remember before we were together, standing in my dorm room at Journee's engagement party. Journee running her slender fingers over Lee's chest saying how sexy a chest piece would look. I lick my lips and shift in my seat before clearing my throat. “Depends what we come up with. I know I’m definitely going to want her to get a chest piece so anyone who looks knows exactly who she belongs to, but I also know she's gotta be careful with size given her business dealings in the upper crust. So maybe just property off Jax across her chest so she can cover it up if need be. But this crow, HER crow...I don't want to worry about size. Maybe her shoulder or tricep for when she's in tank tops. After we design it and I give it to her, I'll let her decide where.”

Journee nods thoughtfully. “All right so explain to me what you're thinking.” She reaches into her oversized satchel she almost always has with her, and pulls out a small sketch book and pencil. I chuckle at her. She shrugs sheepishly. “Hey I'm an artist, never know when inspiration might strike.” She says flipping the book open to an empty page. “So I like what you have going here with the crow but what if you go with a two headed crow. Sort of like you and her becoming one.” She explains, masterfully sketching out what I'd already drawn and adding on to it. “Now, tell me what else you're thinking.”

By the time we’re finished, the idea is a fully formed tattoo. The two crows each have a wing.

A bleeding heart in the middle of the crows speaks to our passion and dedication for each other. One crow clutches an A.K. 47 for the club, and the other crow clutches an olive branch to represent the peace she brings me. With her, I’m completely balanced. Journee’s thrown in a few other hidden easter eggs to symbolize Lee. My name sits above the entire thing to let everyone know who my old lady belongs to. I love that in a way Journee is woven in there. There would be no me and Lee without her wonderfully “subtle” match making ways. We stand to leave, and I toss 20 extra bucks down on a 24-dollar bill. SamCro always makes sure to tip extra well in town. Keeps our business running and our business owners happy to have us. As we're walking out my phone rings and I can't help but grin when I see Lee's name on the caller ID.

“Hey beautiful, I was just thinking about you.” I say answering the phone. “How'd your meeting go?” I ask as we walk towards my bike. "Hey baby, went good. I think your mom and I were able to nail down the last of the details for the taste of Charming festival coming up.” I can hear the relief in her tone.

“Glad to hear it Darlin. J and I just finished up lunch. Headed back now.” I pause.“I mean, headed home.” I correct, winking at the smirk J gives me. “Glad to hear it darlin.” She mocks on the other end. J and I get to the bike and she grabs her helmet. “How’d your meeting go with Wendy?”

“Went good. I’ll tell you more about when I get there.”

“Okay baby.” I can hear her hesitation for a moment.

“Something wrong?”

“No, not at all. But umm Sack came by this morning with a few boxes of your stuff. And I hope you don't mind that I started unpacking some things. You know I hate boxes.” My heart damn near soars at her words. “Of course I don't mind Lee. You know how I hate unpacking, so unpack away. I can't wait to see it. My shit mixed in with yours. Bet it's gonna look amazing.” I say honestly. After our bathtub wall breaking session we both wanted as much of my stuff into her house as soon as possible.

Mostly cause I didn't want her changing her mind on me. “I think you'll like it. I’m headed back to the house now. You done for the day or you got Club stuff you gotta do?”

“I got some free time babe. I'll head over after I drop J off.”

I mount my bike so J can get on while I finish up my phone call. “Okay sounds good Jax.” She grows quiet for a second before a sweet "I love you Jackson," comes through the earpiece. I can't help the smile hearing her initiate the L word that been circling my head for months.

“I love you too Harley.” I say sincerely, picturing her bashful, smile on the other end.

“I'll see you soon babe.”

“Okay, bye baby.” She says before disconnecting the call. Journee is settled in her seat behind me and I can practically feel her smile. “How'd that feel?” She asks learning forward to wrap her arms around my waist. “Pretty Amazing, I’ll never get tired of hearing that from her.” I answer honestly, pulling my helmet on. I can always be honest and real around J. “I know the feeling.” She says giving me a squeeze. She leans forward to place an affectionate kiss on my check.“I'm so happy for you Jackson. For both of you.” She says.

I thread my fingers in her course curls and cup the back of her head. After Pressing a firm kiss to her cheek, I rest my head on top of hers for a moment. “Thank you, Journee. For everything.” I sincerely say.

There is no doubt in my mind if it hadn’t been for my baby sister I wouldn’t be in this amazing stage with Lee.

Knowing me I would’ve fucked us up by now. She gives me a squeeze before situating in her seat. “All right, enough with the chick flick moment. Take me home chauffer, time for me to go see my old man.” She says like a little kid getting ready to open presents as soon as she gets home. “Yes ma'am.” I tease starting my bike and heading out. ~~~~~ A/N: In case ya’ll were wondering this was what Tellerford was thinking Lee’s Crow Looks like. It’s based off a Design the show produced and was tweaked to fit our image lol. So we thought you might like a little glimpse into what’s in our head.

#sons of anarchy #sons of anarchy fanfiction #Jax Teller #chibs telford #Mo Astor

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oscars-wifeyyy · 5 years ago

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Chapter 2 (The Innocent)

Two weeks has passed since everyone found out that Cesar was jumped into Los Santos and two weeks has passed that most of the group tried to find ways to get Cesar out. Elizabeth refused to take any part, knowing there was no way for Cesar to get out, only hoping that he could just fly by with no huge responsibilities. There was going to be a meet up at Ruby’s place to discuss the plans, but Elizabeth had a shift at the restaurant after school so she sent Oscar a quick text. After school, Elizabeth and Oscar met a block from the school to go to the sports restaurant and bar that she worked at.

She already had the uniform shirt on with her blue jeans with her waitress apron already around her waist. It’s almost weird because Oscar has been giving her rides lately and it was inevitable for them not to become great friends and get to know each other more, not the big details. Their rides were mostly laughing and getting to know small parts about each other. It was leading to Elizabeth gaining some kind of feelings for the big bad gang leader that was actually a really sweet guy.

After her shift was over, the gang texted the group chat to tell her about the plan of getting Cesar out of the gang, but she quickly texted back that it was a terrible idea. However, like all her other opinions, it didn’t go along with theirs so it was ignored. The next morning, she was with them in the morning sans Cesar so she could find out more even though she didn’t agree. They walked up the stairs as they talked about their failed plan.

“Cesar’s reaction was a wake up call. The plan isn’t fully formed. We need more time to let our ideas marinate before we take action,” Ruby explained.

“Marinate? No,” Monse insisted, “we gotta cook now. Longer we wait, the deeper Cesar’s in,”

“Guys,” Elizabeth sighed, “this is a gang we’re talking about. Cesar is in and he can’t do anything about it,”

Monse ignored her negativity, “right now he’s got no responsibilities. We gotta get him out before he puts in work,”

Cesar popped up behind them, “who’s putting in work? You’re still with that?”

“With what?” Monse acted dumb.

“Jamal?” Cesar wrapped an arm around his neck.

“We’re still with it,”

Cesar sighed, “this isn’t funny anymore. Trying to reason with my brother is dumb. You gotta promise you’re gonna drop it,”

“You’re overreacting-” Monse got cut off.

“Especially you,” Cesar looked straight at Monse, “Promise,”

“I promise,” Monse lied.

“Ok, good. See you after class,” Cesar nodded at Monse, “Eli, you coming with?”

“Sure,” Elizabeth shrugged, “my class is there anyways,”

The two walked away from the rest of the group and once they were out of earshot, Cesar cleared his throat, “Eli, I’m sorry. I had to claim Monse as protection for her,”

Elizabeth sighed, “alright. You’re forgiven,”

Cesar grinned, “so...am I Salad, again?”

Elizabeth laughed, “Yes, you’re Salad again,”

It was after school and Elizabeth was running to catch up with Monse and Jamal who were on their way to Ruby’s place. When she slowed down next to them, she heard Monse talking about Ruby’s diction so she quickly jumped in.

“Yeah. Sometimes I don’t get half of the things Ruby says,” Elizabeth agreed, out of breath.

Jamal grabbed his face in frustration and pulled, “what?” Monse asked.

“You’re driving me a migraine!” Jamal told Monse.

“Think about how I feel,” Monse disregarded Jamal, “I have no time to teach Ruby not to talk with his hands. He can’t do that stuff with Oscar. Dudes gesticulate a lot in prison. We don’t want to remind him…”

“Hey,” Cesar called out from inside a Santos car, “where you headed?”

“Nowhere,” Monse replied.

“Whatcha doing, Jamal?” Cesar asked.

“Decorating Ruby’s room,” Jamal lied.

“So there is no scheming?” Cesar pried for the honest answer.

Elizabeth groaned at the group, but took out her phone to see a text from the one and only Oscar Diaz.

Future Mans

Whatcha doing, mamita?

Eli <3

With the crew to “feng-shui” Ruby’s room apparently lol

Future Mans

Nice...not really. You got any work this week?

Eli<3

Nope. Thank God lol I’m not tryna do any work. Wassup with “Future Mans”?

Future Mans

Well, bebe. You’re gonna be mine.

The group finally arrived at Ruby’s place, but as soon as they knocked on the door, his head appeared through the half open door, “we’re here to feng-shui your room! That’s why we’re here!” Monse held her arms out.

“I don’t have my own room, but…” Ruby went out the door and ushered the group back, “I have a boner. My cousin just moved in. Not like my cousin-cousin, like ‘what up, cuz,’ you know like fam, but not fam,”

“Like if you can’t keep it in your pants, keep it in the family,” Cesar jokes.

“Exactly,” Ruby paused, “no. not exactly. There is no blood relation. There is no in-breeding. Oh, and call me Ruben. I go by Ruben now,”

“Ruby!” Geny shouted as she walked outside

“Ruben,” Ruby corrected.

“Ruby, aren’t you forgetting something?” Geny ignored his correction as inside, “guys, this is Olivia. She’s going to stay with us for awhile, ok?”

Geny went back inside as an awkward silence came, “is it me or did things just get weird?” the new girl said.

“It’s you,” Monse stepped up, “this is Jamal and Cesar,”

“Elizabeth,”

“Ignore the stares. They haven’t been neutered,” Monse smiled, “Jamal, why don’t you tell Olivia what you didn’t do to your neck. Ruby, can we discuss our chem assignment?” Monse pulled Ruby away to the side to, undoubtedly, talk about their plan to get Cesar out of Los Santos.

Elizabeth didn’t pay any mind to the two that just went to the side, instead engaged into the conversation; however, Cesar lifted the bottom of his shirt to wipe off some “sweat” that he had to show off his abs. The sophomore was glaring daggers into the boy as Ruby was glaring at the boy. Monse and Ruby were on their way back to the group, but Ruby had yelled out.

“I’m saving Cesar!” Monse glared at Ruby as Cesar looked at Monse with a disappointed look.

The next morning, Elizabeth got ready to meet up with the girls, but when she left her place she didn’t feel like rushing to rush to where they were so she just stuck with Ruby who she saw pacing. She approached the small freshmen with a concerned look as she heard Ruby call out to Santa Maria. Ruby started walking into the backyard of the Diaz house so she went up to the small friend and wrapped an arm around him, causing him to jump.

“‘Sup, compa? What are you doing?” Elizabeth smiled.

“Gonna talk to Spooky about Cesar,” Ruby stressed as he walked further into the backyard, “acid? I can’t. I can’t. I can’t,” Ruby tried walking away.

“‘Sup, fool?” Oscar called out causing Ruby to pause and turn.

Oscar advanced towards him with two bins so they could sit. Elizabeth walked further into the yard with Ruby and sat on the stack of tires while staring at Oscar’s shirtless body with his Dickies shorts and long socks with his high-top converse. He had a scowl on his face, looking at Ruby, who was beyond intimidated.

Oscar started leaning in closer to inspect Ruby’s face, “What’s with the glitter?”

“Late night at the club. You know how hynas be,” Ruby tried to play it cool, but it caused Elizabeth to try and hold her laughter in.

Oscar chuckled, “I feel you, homie. Sometimes my ruca wears the same shit. She be rubbing all up on me. I can’t get that crap out for days,” Elizabeth frowned.

Ruby shrugged, “Women,” Oscar offered him a cigarette, “trying to quit,”

“Whatcha wanna chop it up about?”

Ruby looked terrified, “Um, Mr. Oscar,” Oscar raised an eyebrow, “I mean, Spooky. I know you’re a busy man, so I’ll cut right to it. Is that acid?” Lilo slapped the back of Ruby’s head and took the lighter that Oscar had in his hand to light her cigarette, “you know what? Don’t answer. None of my business,” Ruby took a breath, “so, Cesar. I mean, can we just talk about how smart he is? You know, I’m smart, but he’s like...a certifiable genius. He has off the charts emotional intelligence, which is rare, combine that with his innate ability to empathize and problem solve and you get the real deal. A natural leader,” Ruby felt more confident, “which is a testament to you and how well you raised him,” Lilo felt offended but was taken by surprise by Oscar’s sudden grip on her and the force taken to make her sit on his lap.

Oscar nodded, “I feel you, homie,”

Ruby continued, “so, what I’m saying is, he has so much potential that hasn’t been realized. He’s just a baby bird waiting to take flight. Who knows how high a bird can fly given the right wind and lack of avian predators,”

“I never looked at him that way,” Oscar said.

“‘Cause he’s not one to toot his own horn. Yet another one of his many attributes,” Ruby smiled.

“You’re right. He just needs to be given that right opportunity, with good wind and no vultures and shit,” Oscar leaned forward a little bit.

“Well, vultures are more like scavengers. I was thinking hawks,” Ruby said.

“Hawks can suck a dick!” Oscar yelled.

Ruby leaned back, “exactly. I mean, you feeling me Spook,” Ruby immediately corrected himself, “Spooky,”

“Yeah, mos’ def’. You opening my eyes, homes,”

Ruby scoffed, “that’s what I do. You know...I will take that smoke,”

Oscar fished out his pack, giving one to Ruby as well as one in his own mouth, “Time to give Cesar his wings,” Oscar said, lighting his then moved it to Ruby’s cigarette.

Ruby immediately started coughing as Elizabeth rolled her eyes at her friend and laughter bubbled up to the surface.

“You alright there?” Oscar asked while Ruby nodded.

It was finally time for the high school kids to go to school, but as they were gonna exit the backyard, a voice called out, “Elizabeth, stay here,”

Ruby rushed out, leaving his friend behind to defend herself, “y-yeah, Spooky?”

“Oscar,” Oscar corrected, “why you going back to Spooky?”

“Spooky, whatever you’re trying to accomplish with me needs to stop. I got other things to focus on and I don’t need a guy that thinks that he can lead me on when he has a ruca the whole time,” Elizabeth shrugged, “bye, Spooky. Delete my number,”

Elizabeth walked out and to school with jumbled thoughts in her head like why he would even think to do that, why she was even dumb enough to actually almost fall for it. She has enough things to focus on and worry about, like her jobs and the money she needs to help around the house as well as her college. Fortunately, she was lucky enough that she could go to a nearby university on a full ride scholarship and the university being UCLA is a pretty big deal for anybody. Thoughts about her life and the future became jumbled so she took a breath and decided to take her earphones out and listen to music.

Her journey to school came to an end when she saw the school and entered the premises to go to her locker and grab her books and things that she needed for classes. However, she felt stares on her so she turned to see people staring at her, causing her to take out her earphones and hear the last part of the announcement.

“Congratulations to Elizabeth Hernandez. She received a full ride scholarship to UCLA, only being a sophomore,”

Elizabeth groaned and continued shoving books in her bag, as well as taking some out, then walked towards her class. There was a sudden force on her back as two hands pushed against her back and she fell down, laying flat on the floor, so she slowly got up and turned to see a group of seniors.

“Why you hangin’ with Spooky this morning?” the obnoxious gum-chewing girl asked.

“It’s nothing,” Elizabeth looked straight at the girl’s eyes, “we were just talking about important shit with my friend,”

“You’re friend left, but you stayed for a few minutes longer, por que?” another girl that stood next to the gum-chewer asked.

“It was a few minutes. We didn’t even do anything or talk for those few minutes,” Elizabeth groaned, “chill, he’s all yours. I ain’t got time for any of that,”

“Mhmmm, it better stay that way. Name is Lupe and I’m his ruca,” the gum-chewer said.

“Ok, cool. Now I gotta go so have fun with all that,” Elizabeth turned and began walking towards her class again, but on her way there Cesar caught up to her.

“Felicitaciones por la beca, hermana,” Cesar smiled at the slightly older girl.

“Gracias, mano,” Elizabeth grinned, “I learned about it this morning from my mom,”

The two bid their goodbyes as they arrived outside of Elizabeth’s class. Elizabeth walked in and took her usual seat next to the door, taking out her notebook and textbook to do tonight’s homework. Time passed and class dragged on until the bell rang and bodies rushed to leave the room and meet up with their friends while Elizabeth simply took her time and went to her locker to grab books until a hand touched her shoulder. She turned to see a guy standing there nervous.

“Hey,” the guy said, “my name is Damien. I’m in your english class,”

Elizabeth nodded her head, “hey. What’s up?”

“W-well, I was wondering if y-you wanted to maybe, I don’t know, go on a d-date with m-me?” Damien asked.

“Y-y-yeah sure,” Elizabeth blushed, “when and where?” “We can meet up at Dwayne’s then go to the mini golf course? 7 p.m, tonight?”

Elizabeth thought it over, “yeah sure. Why not? What’s your number?”

The two exchanged numbers, unaware of the eyes and ears of a Santo that was texting everything to Oscar.

Oscar was out doing business for Los Santos, but half of his head was out and cursing himself at his stupidity to say that he had a ruca. He doesn’t have a ruca because Lupe and him broke up two months ago, but he only said he had a ruca to Ruby because he didn’t want other people to find out about his thing with Elizabeth. A ding interrupted him from his thoughts so he pulled out his phone and became angry at the updates about Elizabeth.

She got a date with Damien @ 7

Dwayne’s BBQ and mini golf

Ok. gracias, mano.

No problemo, mano

The leader was angry as he looked at the time when he was done with business for the gang. He pulled out his phone to see the white numbers at the top of the iPhone reading ‘5:50 pm’ so he rushed home and showered. Cesar came home when Oscar was done and getting ready to leave. 6:45 pm.

“Mano, I’m leaving. Be back soon. la comida está en la nevera,” Oscar closed the door and to his car.

He arrived at the joint at 7:05 pm and saw that the two were sitting and looking through the menu, even though Elizabeth knew what she was getting. The cholo got out of his car and made his way inside the restaurant, bells dinging as he opened the door. Elizabeth turned and saw the cholo, causing her eyes to open wide and shake her head at him, but he ignored her as he stopped next to their table.

“‘Sup, fool?” Oscar looked at Damien with a raised eyebrow.

“‘Sup, Oscar,” Damien nodded, “this is Elizabeth. Elizabeth, this is my best friend, Oscar aka Spooky,”

“Nah, homes,” Oscar chuckled with no humor in his phone, “we ain’t friends. Elizabeth is gonna be mine so back up,”

Damien flew out of the booth, “o-oh, sorry, Spooky. I-i didn’t know that. I thought you were still with Lupe?”

“We ain’t together,” Oscar crossed his arms, “we broke up two months ago. Tell everyone that we broke up two months ago,”

Damien ran out of the restaurant, leaving Elizabeth to Oscar, but she moved to get out of the booth and out of the restaurant to go home. Oscar blocker her way out.

“That ain’t happenin’ again, mamita,” Oscar nudged Elizabeth to sit next to the window, “I said you were gonna be mine and I don’t back out,”

“I don’t care, Spooky. I got other things to focus on, seeing as though you might be playin’ me and I am not gonna entertain that shit,” Elizabeth rolled her eyes.

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shirokh · 4 years ago

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THE POET OF THE COURT

“Alas my love you do me wrong

To cast me off discourteously;

And I have loved you oh so long

Delighting in your company.”

So was one of the more popular songs Damien, the sheikah poet used to sing for the court of Hyrule. Since he was a child, he always thought the queen was beautiful, and one of his goals was to sing in front of them just as he was now doing, and he did so since his father allowed him to acompany them at the age of twelve. The princess was a few years younger than him, but he always managed to find a nice lyric, story or poem to delight her with during special meals.

Even when he had to find some appropriate melody to her mother’s funeral, the sympathy he felt for the princess became more intense, as he felt the need to protect her from any harm, watching her child stoic self, and not allowing herself to cry in front of others. Was it perhaps his Sheikah blood, such as her guardian Impa, that he felt... whatever he was feeling...

Or maybe the songs he sang about romance were there for a reason, and from then on, every time he composed and sang, the princess came to his mind.

-“That must be what love is about... an impossible love... such inspiring” He told himself the moment he realised he just kept thinking a big percentage of the day on princess (goddess) Zelda, his muse. He didn’t eat, he didn’t sleep until he recognised on his heart that the love the songs described was little, compared to what he felt for his unreachable lady.

Or so he believed.

-“Damien! Could you keep playing that lullaby?” The princess asked him, it was already late and, as usual she kept working on her lab. Impa was half asleep sitting in a chair, and the princess was dissecting a peculiar full guardian arm.

-“You’r request is my pleasure as always, your highness” He said as he played a guitar version of Zelda’s lullaby. He loved when she called his name, it was like tasting honey.

-“You know that you are not obligued to keep working this late, right?” Impa told him, they knew each other since childhood, they were neighbours in Kakariko village, and their families also had a long friendship. Despite Impa’s parents and grandparents dedicated themselves to train in the arts of fighting as successors and guardians to the royal family, and all of Damien’s family were dedicated to music and served the royal family also.

-“It’s an honor to contribute to the princess investigations” he said as he began to play a different song, secretly this song was composed to express his feelings to the princess, it was a waltz he thought it would be better played with an accordion, but the violin gave it a soft and nice tone itself.

-“Such nice melody! I like when you play the violin also” The princes said, her hands were stained with oil from the guardian and half her face too. -“It always helps to have music, I think I can concentrate better”

-“Princess Zelda, It’s past midnight, we should get you to have a bath and prepare for tomorrow” Impa pleadingly asked, as she was tired herself.

-“I... Why can’t you come with me?! Instead of that perfect knight or whatever?!” Zelda left a heavy piece on the table, making a loud noise, Damien perceived her annoyance.

-“Princess... we already discussed it... it was a direct order from the King”

-“Impa! Or you could come along! I don’t think I need a knight to follow me around, it’s such a nonsense”

-“If I could be of any help, princess, I’d gladly contribute”

-“Thanks Damien, it’s just that I must part to the four regions to investigate the divine beasts, and my father insisted on me going with a knight he selected, instead of just me going alone...or with Impa” she said looking at her reproachingly.

“Mo! Princess! I told you already, all of us Sheikas are required to help with thecnology investigation, it could be an important part to defeat calamity... besides the sacred sword selected him”

-“Divine beasts are more important ! But my father is... worried that I can’t wake my power in time ..., so I must hurry, if I want to be able to pray to the goddess and have the Goron,Orni, Zora and Gerudo help with the beasts at the same time...”

-“I could come along if you allow me to, besides I haven’t been required in court for a while” Damien shyly suggested.

-“Could you do that?!” Zelda took his hands firmly, surprised the young Sheika blushed entirely, retreating himself from her.

-“I’m sorry... it’s just...” the princess began to apologise, it was a rush, but she liked the idea of going with a friendly face.

-“Please don’t apologise your highness, of course I’d love you... I’d love to go along with you...” he said stuttering a bit. Impa gave him a suspicious glance.

-“I’m watching you Damien, don’t try anything funny!” Impa said pointing at him with the guardian’s leg, and the three of them began laughing.

His hands were now also stained with oil. If he could, he wanted to keep them unwashed forever.

The knight was already waiting in the hall. He wasn’t a very tall man, even Damien was taller. He couldn’t help but compare himself to the boy, he seemed to be like his age, yet he had imagined a big and musculous guy, but instead there was this young man with an innocent and serious face, if he could say so.

Not that Damien considered himself ugly, even some girls had flirted with him, not because of his manly appearance, but because he took good care of his fragile self. Being a court musician didn’t involve much physical activity, yet he was trained in the proper way of the sigilous Sheikah. Demian had just packed some sheikah snaks, and of course his violin as well, it was better for travelling, the guitar would be heavy to carry.

The princess went down the stairs, and without even looking at Link, she went out her way, greeting Damien. Link bowed politely, getting on one knee.

“-Are you ready, master of music?”

-“On this tempestuous day,

Let me, beautiful princess

Show you all the way”

-“How is it you always have a verse?” She smiled and kept on going to the exit of the castle.

LINK’S POINT OF VIEW

He arrived early this morning. Rumour was that he was soon to be named the appointed knight for the princess officially. Yet now, the king entrusted him with the safety of his daughter travelling to the Rito Village. He used to be relaxed, but since that event where he obtained the master sword, he felt every one was watching him, so he was restless... “Was he good enough to carry the sword that repels the darkness?” Since childhood legends told that the hero would rise against evil, he used to love that stories, now he felt anxious about them, as he never imagined he would actually get to BE the hero himself.

A sheikah arrived and seemed to be waiting for something or someone. It was odd he carried a violin and Link felt observed. He nodded as a greeting.

The princess came downstairs. She was as beautiful as he remembered, and she had quite developed womanly features, Link scolded himself because of this thought, after all she was to become his Queen someday, so he owned every respect he could muster. Quickly he got in one knee and greeted her silently. After he stood up, he saw the princess happily greet the man with the violin, and how he took her hands and told her some words that made her smile.

“Why was he so close to the princess?” That though left his envious side arise, yet he had being training on not letting his emotions show anymore, after all, he had to be seen as a true hero chosen by the sword.

End of LINK’s POV

They began walking, followed by the knight and three more knights her father assigned to scort her. Damien thought that the sweet princess had also a different and more dark side, as she ignored and diminished the presence of the appointed knight, it was more than evident that she didn’t enjoy or even wanted his presence around her. Damien wanted to know every side of her, even the wrong sides.

The fact that the knight hadn’t said a single word about it was more entangling.

It was almost noon, they went on horse all the way, and only stopped to feed the horses and have a snack themselves. Zelda mainly spoke with Damien, as he also improvised some verses for her, and the other knights were entertained during meal by him. Link stood behind, always vigilant of the surrounding.

They went back on the horses, and when they got to Carock bridge Zelda looked at the map again.

-“So, I think that the way to Tabanta is this way to the north.”

Damien wasn’t sure, he barely traveled back and forth from Kakariko village, he had seen once or twice an orni merchant, but he was confident that the princess had the map with her.

-“It’s not”

A voice sounded from behind. Link had spoken. He had a soft and somehow masculine voice.

-“Speak, Link? Was it your name?”

-“The shortest way to Rito village is to the left. Unless you want to go trough the tundra, that would take us...”

-“We’ll take north” she interrupted him, not wanting to hear more of the chosen knight. And her horse obeyed the command to go north. Time after she would regret this decision.

-“... one more day...” he finished his sentence with a whisper. The other knights looked at him.

-“Well, if we are with you Link, I bet no monster would scare the sh** out of me”

The other knight scolded him for swearing, after all the princess may have heard them.

THIS WAS MEANT FOR A ONE SHOT, but the story kept on going 😬. Hope you enjoy it, Zelink story to the bones, and some jealousy involving the poet of the court (Main witness of Zelink) THANKS to Greenie for the name of the poet 💖

#zelink #fanart #legend of zelda #zelda botw #fanfic #breath of the wild #PoetOfTheCourt

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handthigh · 4 years ago

Text

Soooo I may or may not have gone crazy and gone stupid and wrote a whole ass one shot fanfic of Tianshan in the office AU

ETA: this is now also available at AO3! (ETA 2: This is now a multichapter fic!)

Big thanks to the people over at Tianshan discord for taking a read and giving me the feedback. The fic follows right after this paragraph, with notes at the end of the fic.

He Tian (Work):

Little Mo, pass me a stapler (6:35pm)

Frowning at the message notification, Mo Guan Shan wordlessly takes the stapler lying on his desk and wheels his chair out of his cubicle to pass to his next door neighbour who grins upon receiving the stationery from the redhead. The reciprocity is not returned however, as Guan Shan wheels back into his cubicle to complete a report the supervisor had dumped onto him 15 minutes before the time he ends work. It is already bad enough that he is working overtime on a Friday while being the only one stuck with He Tian, the last thing he needs is for the annoying colleague to interrupt his progress.

The report turns out even more taxing than expected, further souring Guan Shan’s mood. He glanced at the time displayed on the laptop, “6:55pm”. Great, the report’s barely done and closing time sale at the nearby sandwich shop is already over. So much for a “quick task”, he scoffs bitterly at his supervisor’s words.

As if He Tian can read his mind, comes another text:

He Tian (Work):

Little Mo, are you cursing out the boss in your head again? (6:57pm)

Damn it, not another interruption. Glancing at the new message, Guan Shan cringes at the accuracy of the guess. Guilt quickly turns into irritation however, as he glares at the cubicle separating him and the culprit of these messages. This has been going on for about 3 months now, ever since he was assigned to be seated with He Tian at the corner of the office. The reason? The supervisor claims that only the short tempered Guan Shan is immune to the raven haired’s hunky looks while workers of all genders in their department are too busy admiring He Tian to work productively. Guan Shan tries to suppress his gag upon the memory.

First of all, Guan Shan does not appreciate being called short tempered. He just has little patience and a lot of irritation for mindless small talks and forced formalities, that’s all. Second of all, seriously? Of all words, hunky? While Guan Shan admits that He Tian is a looker because after all, he has eyes; but that is certainly an exaggeration. Sure, He Tian has the physique and face for the magazine covers, but he’s not that good looking. Especially not when he assigns Guan Shan that stupid nickname and constantly texts him for no justifiable reasons despite already repeating many times that he only wants to reserve the texting to a minimum and keep it strictly to work matters.

Wait, what the fuck? Why is he thinking about him again? Ugh, this is why he emphasises on keeping social interactions to a minimum! The report and the constant texting must have really gotten to him, because the next thing he knew, Guan Shan picks up his phone and types at his source of annoyance.

Me:

Yes, genius. Since you’re so smart and volunteered to OT with me, why don’t you make yourself useful and help me out with the report then you chicken dick! (7:05pm)

Normally Guan Shan tries to keep his temper in check, wanting to believe he is no longer the moody middle school boy that he was. Besides, this is the first job he managed to get right after graduating university 6 months ago, just in time before the recession. Thus, he is not trying to screw up an opportunity just because he got involved in some petty office drama. However, the combination of working overtime, growing hunger and unnecessary buzzing of his phone followed by He Tian’s unnecessary messages is making Guan Shan throw both caution and formalities out the window.

He is not the only one surprised by his own outburst however, as He Tian guffaws and rolls his chair out of the cubicle to meet the redhead, currently glaring at him and asking what’s so funny.

“Chicken dick? What kind of insult is that? Also, I dunno, I just thought you’d never asked me for help.” He Tian replies with a shrug and his signature grin.

He Tian is not wrong - Guan Shan seldom asks for help, believing that it’s better to be self-sufficient than to rely on someone else. Furthermore, it allows him to avoid having to keep up with forced interactions with others. But it’s getting late and the report doesn’t seem to be finishing soon, and there is someone in the office right now, might as well right?

“So are you going to help me or not?”

“Sure, anything for you Little Mo~”

“Stop calling me that! Give me your email, I’ll share the document with you on the cloud.”

So, here they are at 7:30pm, working in a shared online document together - cubicle to cubicle. Guan Shan mainly typing out the content of the report while He Tian formats, elaborates and adds any figures and charts where appropriate; explaining his rationale to the other while he works.

As Guan Shan sees the report transform before his very own eyes, he is now confronted with the thought he’s been trying to will away for 3 days, ever since he overheard the company executives discuss whether to promote He Tian.

As much as he hates admitting it, He Tian is talented and hardworking when situations call for it. Not only is he able to easily handle the tedious formatting that is typically required of such reports, he also goes the extra mile of further perfecting any tasks assigned to him. It also helps that he has great social networking skills to accompany his equally great looks, not only charming the other coworkers around them, but also clients and other company staff alike in network events.

Attempting to ignore the ache of admiration growing in his chest, Guan Shan wonders why is someone as good as He Tian working at an entry level job like him in a medium sized company when the latter can easily negotiate for a much higher salary in a conglomerate. What he heard about his raven haired coworker isn’t helping much with his curiosity either.

While Guan Shan prefers minding his own business, he also doesn’t live under a rock. He has heard the rumours - that He Tian had interned for various big names while he attended an Ivy League business school and graduated a valedictorian. He was also rumoured to be taking over his family’s multinational company branch in China while his older brother gets based overseas to look over their international branches. Yet somehow, here he is, working overtime in a too small cubicle with an aloof coworker who has nothing to boast for. After all, Guan Shan’s resume mainly consists of mediocre grades in a local university that is far from being a C9 League, one proper internship experience and multiple part time odd jobs to help him pay his student loans.

He Tian has everything going for him, and yet, why? Guan Shan is so lost in his own thoughts that he does not notice an arm reaching out to his laptop and folding it down, clasping his fingers that are resting motionlessly on the keyboard.

“Ouch! What the fuck?!” Guan Shan stands up and yelps in shock, spinning around to glare at the culprit. This proves to be a mistake as he realises he is face to face with He Tian, barely an inch away.

Suddenly, the room feels hot and all Guan Shan can hear is his heart rapidly beating in his ears as he sees a totally different expression from the latter: lips twitching up, high cheekbones raised making them even more pronounced, coupled with a pair of grey eyes sparkling and curving in childish amusement. Even though he knows that He Tian is laughing at his expense, somehow, Guan Shan could not bring himself to break eye contact, wanting to look as long as possible until he commits He Tian’s genuine smile to memory.

“Earth to Little Mo, I said I was done with the report and had emailed our supervisor, and was thinking of treating you to a sandwich as a thanks for your effort.” He Tian replies, amusement laced in his voice as he breaks the silence.

“...How do you know I like…” Guan Shan dumbly replies, still feeling overwhelmed by the close contact to even retort He Tian as he feels his face getting even hotter.

Breaking eye contact, He Tian steps to the side and fishes out his car key, hooking the key ring to his finger. As much as he finds his flustered colleague both amusing and endearing, he makes sure to give Guan Shan some space in case the other gets too stunned and passes out. “Well, who else in this office eats those except for you? So what do you say, it'll be my treat and I can drive us there.” He Tian says as he leans back on the cubicle wall, spinning the car key around.

“.... Uh… mm” Guan Shan nodded, feeling too light headed to speak properly.

“Let’s go then.” He Tian steps out of the cubicle, making his way out as he turns off the office lights.

Guan Shan’s mind is reeling as he follows He Tian from behind. Why is he suddenly reacting like this? Why did he agree to have dinner with him? Most importantly, WHY IS HE SUDDENLY HAVING SUCH THOUGHTS OF THAT ANNOYING CHICKEN DICK?

God, he hates working overtime.

Notes:

If you made it here, thanks for reading! I’ve been wanting to write a fluffier, slice of life office romance with Tianshan for quite awhile now - an AU with no mafia drama, no She Li being a creep, just coworkers dicking around and relatively normal problems here and there. I only committed after getting reminded of this official Tianshan art by Old Xian on the discord. Aside from 19 days, I also draw inspiration from a webcomic called Senpai ga Uzai, Kouhai no Hanashi. I’m a huge sucker of slow burn fluffy Tianshan where Guan Shan is initially annoyed at He Tian and slowly and reluctantly falls for him. Hehehehehehehehe *continues to laugh in fujoshi*

Not going to lie, I do feel nervous posting it. However, after seeing many Tianshan fics (they are good! don’t get me wrong) that doesn’t have a workplace AU, I thought I’d manifest it onto the internet space! Do let me know what you think, as I am considering expanding this into a multi-fic once I stop being lazy.

#19 days #he tian #mo guan shan #tianshan #fanfic #office au #oxian #old xian

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