- N I N E T E E N -

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𓆩♡𓆪

𓆩♡𓆪

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𓆩♡𓆪

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The walk back home was relatively quiet, save for Fugo complaining about Mista falling on top of the car. "Okay! I'm sorry, I needed to jump off or the stupid rock wouldn't break!" "Why did you HAVE to fall on OUR car, though? You also got [Y/N] hurt, you know?" The strawberry blonde quipped back, an exasperated look on his face. Bucciarati's expression was akin to a mother that was tired of dealing with her rowdy children. To be honest, it suited the ebony-haired man well (mommy).

Now in Bucciarati's arms, [Y/N] was still sound asleep, snoring softly. Unlike a certain gunslinger, the way he carried her was gentle, almost like he was cradling a small child. The [H/C] haired girl shifted around a bit, but she eventually settled down, resting her head on the ebony-haired man's shoulder. His blue hues trailed over her peaceful expression, and he silently wished that she would appear at ease like this more often. Deep down though, he knew that this job of hers no - this life of hers - wouldn't allow that.

Halfway through the trip [Y/N] woke up, and a light blush quickly crept upon her face. "Oh- you didn't have to do that, Bucciarati. You can just wake me up next time." She murmured softly as he set her back down. "Nonsense, you need the rest. What if someone else gets hurt?" He responded

"I guess you're right. Thanks a lot though." Bucciarati only nodded in response, a small yet genuine smile on his lips. Around five minutes later the group finally arrived at the hideout, knocking on the door. Running could be heard from the other side before Narancia opened the door, a huge grin on his face. "Fugo, Fugo! Guess what!?"

Once all of them had entered the house, Mista let out a sigh of relief, and a small sheen of sweat coated his skin. "Jesus holy fuck that was stressful," He uttered, leaning against the wall. The raven-haired teen, however, was struggling to contain his excitement.

"FUGO I DID ALL OF THE HOMEWORK YOU GAVE ME BECAUSE [Y/N] HELPED ME UNDERSTAND IT! IT'S REALLY EASY AN' NOW I CAN DO MY MULTIPLICATION TABLES." He screeched, jumping up and down in excitement. The [H/C] haired girl was left slightly baffled on how he managed to say that all in one breath.

Fugo's face contorted into one of confusion, then surprise, then happiness. A small smile tugged at his lips, and he motioned for Narancia to give him the worksheet. The raven-haired teen gladly obliged, pulling out a lengthy packet and handing it to the strawberry blonde.

Bored at this point, [Y/N] decided to raid the fridge for something sugary to eat because was feeling a bit hungry from yaknow.. Stopping people from dying. Settling for a half-eaten tiramisu that might've been Mista's, the [H/C] haired girl scurried off to her room to eat it in peace, but not before waving at the pale-haired goth who was sitting on one of the couches listening to his music.. Flopping down onto her bed and setting the plate next to her, she picked up 'Merchant of Venice' (IM SORRY GHIA) and started to read it, occasionally taking a bite of the tiramisu. The creamy texture mixed with the slight crunch of the ladyfingers came together almost divinely, and [Y/N] closed her eyes in relaxation.

Her special moment was interrupted by Mista who screamed from the kitchen. "WHO IN THE FUCK TOOK MY FUCKING TIRAMISU?!" Spurring into immediate panic mode, the [H/C] haired girl quickly hid the plate in her closet, wiping off all of the excess on her cheek and crashing onto her bed. Picking up her book, she started flipping through the pages nonchalantly. When the gunslinger burst into her room, screeching like a feral dog or whatever, [Y/N] just waved idly.

"Abbacchio says you took my tiramisu!" He fumed, pointing an accusatory finger at her. That fucking snitch. "Uhh, I didn't? Abba probably pulled that information out of his asshole or something." Still not convinced, Mista stormed over to her, grabbing her shoulders roughly and shaking her like a fetus. "WHERE IS IT?! I KNOW YOU ATE IT! I CAN SMELL THE COFFEE ON YOU!" His eyebrows were furrowed and his teeth were gritted, a telltale sign that he was pissed.

"Okay, sorry. I ate your tiramisu or whatever, but I'll buy you a gelato to make up for it." This statement activated the dormant brain cells in the gunslinger's head before he finally let go of [Y/N]'s shoulders, muttering a 'thanks' before leaving.

Bored out of her mind, the [H/C] haired girl got the dirty plate and quickly cleaned it before setting it in the dishwasher. Skipping over to Bucciarati's office, she opened the door and promptly ran over to the spinny chair that sat in front of his desk. Colliding with the plush leather seat, she spun around the chair until it eventually came to a stop, eyes locking with the ravenette that sat before her and grinning. "Heeeey."

He looked back at her in disbelief, face contorting into one of confusion. "W...Was that choreographed?"

"Nope. I was just bored. Is there anything that Polpo wanted you to do?" Throwing her legs over the headrest of the chair she sat in a position similar to an astronaut in a space shuttle before takeoff. "Euugh. I don't like this feeling." Cringing at the sensation of blood rushing to her head [Y/N] tried lifting it up only to smack her forehead on the underside of the table.

"That sounded like it hurt."

"It did." She groaned, before promptly flailing her arms and falling off, screeching like a maniac. Bucciarati chose to pretend that whatever just happened..didn't, breathing out an annoyed sigh.

"We have to infiltrate the same organization as before.. It's starting to get serious.."

"Oh.. why?" She wondered curiously, choosing to sit in the chair normally this time. The ebony-haired man shuddered as he remembered what happened the last time they tried to obtain information on them. "It's nothing you need to worry about. We'll be leaving in thirty minutes. Wake up Fugo and Narancia will you?"

"Sure." Scurrying off to do the evil witch's Bucciarati's bidding, [Y/N] burst into Narancia's room, screaming like a mental asylum patient. "WAKE THE FUCK UP, WE'RE GOING ON A MISSION BITCHES." The ravenette teen was excited, due to the fact that he and Fugo were covering the same topic in math for the past two weeks and he still couldn't get it right.

"When are we leaving?" Fugo questioned, a hand under his chin as he thought of something quite interesting.

"Uuuh. In about.. Thirty minutes? That's what Bucciarati said or whatever."

"Mmh." The strawberry blonde seemed to be lost in his own world, tapping his pen against the desk in thought. [Y/N] decided that she was finally bored, so she started to get ready. Changing out of her pajamas and into a casual outfit, she then slid down the railing and into the living room. Forgetting to get off before the little ball thingy at the bottom she tripped and faceplanted onto the hardwood floor.

"oW fUck-" She groaned, her nose twisted in a way noses shouldn't twist. Slowly blood started to come out, and she had to cover her face in order to staunch the flow.

"-You are such a dumbass. What the hell was that?" Abbacchio grumbled, holding a glass of red wine. [Y/N]'s nose then unbroke fixed itself, no longer gushing out blood.

"HNNNGGGIDON'TKNOW."

"Tch. Whatever."

-

As they all got in the car, [Y/N] stole shotgun and Fugo decided that he was driving. Handing her a map, he gave her a stern glare. "You're in charge of directions, so don't fuck up." Nodding and resting her head against the window she scanned over the paper. Where were they going? She didn't know. Was this a problem since she was in charge of directions? Yes.

Cue a montage of [Y/N] struggling to help with directions:

"Uuuh. Where's the address? OH wait, it's literally circled. Nevermind."

-"Oh. WAIT, TRAFFIC CIRCLE, TRAFFIC CIRCL- AUHCH."

-"OH MY GOD DON'T RUN OVER THEM."

-"Can we stop at McDonalds? Please? Fuck- you missed a turn. AHSH FUCK SOTP HITTING ME HACWDSAD-"

"Anyway, back to the story. After around fifteen minutes the group made it to yet another warehouse, this one looking even more fucked up than the last. The lights flickered on and off inside, and it smelled of rotting corpses.

Muffled footsteps echoed throughout the building. It just seemed- creepy in general. Something seemed off about it. Bucciarati couldn't place his finger on it, and it scared Fugo.

There wasn't a good way to approach the situation, and that scared him. "Okay [Y/N], in case any of us needs help, you'll stay over there-" He pointed at a collapsed shelf, "-So we can get to you. Alright? ..[Y/N]?"

He turned back to scold her, but the spot where she stood a few seconds ago was empty."..[Y/N]?"


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a/n: i am so sorry for not updating guys. i kinda had a d in geometry but i dont anymore, jesus it was stressful. hope you guys enjoyed lmfao

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