#this is a quick one I literally banged out in like a day | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

literaila · 28 days

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are you stupid?

gojo satoru x fem!reader

summary: you come home injured and satoru isn't cool with it

warnings: literal hurt/comfort, descriptions of a wound bad enough to warrant stitches, little angst, fluff, slightly ooc satoru

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year six.

“are you stupid?”

your hands are frozen to the touch, barely able to grasp the doorknob when his voice comes from nowhere at all.

you almost don't notice it when satoru opens the door. you have to blink to focus on him, but by the time you do, you're already falling against the empty space in front of you.

satoru is quick to catch your arm, righting you before you break your nose on the hardwood.

“that’s my line,” you tell him, slightly coughing--it sends shocks down your spine and you shiver. you shake his hand off of you, trying to walk forward, but there's a wall of a man standing there. you blink at him. "hey, satoru. would you mind moving?”

“i could smell the blood from down the block,” he says, his voice rougher than usual, completely still. “what did you do?”

you roll your eyes, waving a hand (even though it makes you a bit woozy). “there’s no way you could smell that. it’s not even that bad.”

“it’s dripping down your shirt.”

you pout, looking down. "i just washed this, too.”

it is a lot of blood, you realize suddenly. you would definitely get some looks if you were walking down the street in public.

still, you don't feel all that banged up. it's not really your fault that you were slightly distracted when that curse snuck up on you... or at least, you're pretty sure it's not.

satoru, shaking his head--maybe finally realizing that you're fine--moves out of the way, holding the door open for you. "what did you do?"

you step through, using the wall to keep you steady. “how do you know i did anything?”

you finally look at satoru, even though he's fading from your eyeline, in and out of focus. he's not wearing his blindfold or his glasses, and he's got a frown that rivals one of megumi's at the moment.

it makes you laugh, just a little, as you try to shake the shoes from your feet.

he was probably sleeping, you think. usually, you'd probably feel... at least slightly bad. but right now? you don't even care.

you're just happy to see him, right in front of you like your own personal greeting card. you've only been gone a day, but satoru feels much further away than that.

especially with his frown and his furrowed eyebrows. he's in a mood, you remember, frowning.

“why are you bleeding, y/n?”

you cough again, tapping his chest as you move past him. “jeez, lighten up, satoru. i’m good,” you say this as you limp down the hallway, wincing with every step.

you don't get to watch satoru's eye roll, but it takes less than a second for an arm to wrap under your shoulders, satoru forcing your weight onto him, and he practically carries you through the house until you reach the kitchen, where he sets you on the countertop.

he's looking at you like you're a fragile baby bird.

and he doesn't bother to ask--of course he doesn't--before he lifts your shirt from your abdomen, it slightly sticking (due to the blood) before it rolls up.

satoru's eyes widen as he inspects you. "woah," he whispers, paling just a little bit.

you don't look down with him--because that's a terrible idea--but you watch satoru.

you can barely feel it, actually. it's basically just a minor cut, nothing too--

you try not to gasp when satoru presses a finger near your ribs, not directly touching the wound, but far too close to it. it would be embarrassing to double over in pain, wouldn't it?

“is it bad?” you wonder, breathlessly, feeling a bit light-headed.

satoru’s head snaps up, “you didn’t look?”

“i was a bit distracted. the curse wasn't gracious enough to give me the chance to grab a couple of bandaids, the bastard."

“how did you even manage to do this?”

your eyes trail down unconsciously, but all you can see is your bunched-up shirt--drenched in blood. yeah, you'll probably have to burn it.

satoru is looking up and down, his face entirely disgusted, nose scrunched up and eyes avoiding your own.

it makes you laugh a little--because you're very familiar with satoru and his opposition to anything humanly--which then makes you wince with him.

it doesn't hurt that bad, really.

“can you get the first aid kit?” you ask him, pushing his hands away from you and your cut. but as soon as satoru isn't right there to lean on, you begin to tilt forward.

satoru immediately resumes his position as your pillar. “are you kidding? i’m calling shoko.”

“i know how to do stitches, satoru. it’s late.”

“you need, like, a stomach replacement for that.”

you roll your eyes, leaning even further into him. at least when you're pressed up against his chest, you don't have to breathe. “you’re so dramatic.”

satoru is still frowning. “doesn’t that hurt?”

“nope,” you lie, sitting up and pushing his hands away again. “i’m running on adrenaline. it’s not that deep, anyway.”

he gives you a hard look.

you sigh. “what’s wrong with you? you can drop the act.”

“what act?”

“the ‘i’m the caretaker’ act.”

“what if i came home with a hole in my stomach?" satoru's jaw is clenched. "what would you do?”

“i can't think about hypotheticals right now, satoru,” you whine. “please get the first aid kit?”

“should i get megumi too? might as well teach him how to stitch you up, he's getting to that age, you know.”

“funny,” you say, dryly. “do you want me to bleed out on our counter, or…?”

satoru sighs, but he walks out of the kitchen a moment later. hopefully to save you from dying.

you exhale, feeling your chest tighten. you can't feel much, for the most part. but then there's that feeling every couple of seconds, a memory of the whole thing playing out-- except your head is fuzzy, and everything looks sort of… colorful right now.

you can’t even remember how you got here. or the last time a curse managed to actually injure you.

it feels a bit juvenile, really.

especially because you’re in no position to be taking care of yourself—but in no world would you wake up shoko in the middle of the night for this. in no world would you wake up anyone, except for satoru, to deal with you, with your blood and your stubbornness.

god, you hate pain. you hate having to wash blood out of your clothes, and you hate sitting here by yourself.

you slump down. only seconds have gone by, but it feels like so much more than that. the wound burns, you think, in an unnatural way.

you probably got poisoned and you're probably going to die and satoru is going to stomp on your grave, and--

“do we even have enough gauze to cover that up?” satoru is asking you when he walks back in. he's wearing nothing but a t-shirt and shorts, you realize, watching him.

his eyes are stern, focused, and the rest of him is morose. you should be able to gaze at him, to stare--but you can't because your vision has spots in it, and everything about satoru is too hard right now.

he’s been like this for days. casual but stuck—like he can’t find it in him to laugh about anything. his face has been a field of lines, with no breaks in between, and his eyes have been greyer than they should be, a sort of dim color that you hate.

satoru's eyes are wild, usually. they are blue fires and the vast expanse of the universe.

but not right now, when he's looking at you like this. and not this week--because he's barely been looking at you at all.

and it's unfortunate not just because you miss him, but because you're not as good at casting it all away as he is. you can't shove things aside and make light out of the darkest situations.

you can't fill his role, and yet you keep trying to.

it's an inevitable cycle of failing and never being enough.

“i’ll just cut up your shirt if there’s not enough,” you tell him, putting on a smile so he can’t tell how badly you want to start crying.

is this real pain, you wonder, or a dream?

“use your own shirts.”

you pout. “but yours are the best quality.”

satoru rolls his eyes, again, and begins to wipe off all of the well-used tools you have. a needle you've had for years, stolen from jujutsu high, and thread you can't remember taking.

“what are you doing?” you try to grab the instruments from his hands, clumsily, almost cutting yourself again in the process.

satoru is quick to hold them away, keeping them up and out of your reach. not that you were going to try very hard anyway.

“i’m going to stitch you up," he says, like he's scolding you.

“you don’t know how.”

“please,” satoru scoffs, shaking his head. he gets a cloth wet under the facet, and then holds it towards you. “i probably learned how to do this before you were even born."

“when you were nine months old?”

“clean it.”

you listen, holding the cloth to your wound and still not looking down. it feels sort of ticklish, and also like you're being tortured.

“you don’t have to,” you tell satoru after a moment, breathing through the nausea that comes with the pain. “i know you’re squeamish around blood.”

“i am not squeamish.”

you grin at him. “sure.”

satoru looks up, and finally, his face relaxes, just a little bit. you can even see the workings of a smile on his mouth—the first you’ve gotten in days.

he shakes his head. “i’ll be fine. sit up.”

“seriously,” you say, again, catching his hand just as he’s about to touch you. “i can do it.”

“seriously, i’m not letting you. your hands are shaking.”

you look down, releasing his wrist. “oh.”

“yeah, oh.”

satoru kneels so he can see your cut properly, his face narrowed in concentration. you focus on him as he touches the tender skin by the wound, featherlight fingertips trailing across your skin.

you shiver and apologize under your breath.

he hasn't been this close in days.

“does it hurt now?” he asks you, voice so quiet that it almost echoes through the house.

“not really,” but you look up towards the ceiling. somehow you know it’s going to be worse if you watch.

“i can call—“

“no, satoru. i already told you, if you don’t want to do it then i—“

“okay, i’m doing it. i’m doing it.”

you close your eyes when he punctures your skin, waiting for the feeling to subside. it's just a prick, but you still have to think about getting the mail, going to the store, taking a shower after this, or maybe just crawling out from your own skin and becoming a spirit.

but satoru seems to recognize this, maybe from your face, and he asks, “what kind of curse was it?”

“dunno?” you breathe out, mapping a picture on the ceiling in your mind.

“what do you mean?”

“i can't remember.”

satoru looks up. “what?”

“it’s all a blur,” you say, wanting to shove his hands off of you. you've been trained to kick people away, so it's really not your fault. “i think i won though.”

“i don’t think this is winning.”

“keep going,” you tell him, instead of arguing. “i’m fine.”

satoru tsks but does as you say, resuming the smooth movements of suturing. any normal day, you'd probably want to watch his hands work, want to inspect his job and make fun of him for the way he holds his breath while looking at an open wound.

“how were the kids?” you ask him, after a moment.

satoru breathes out, nodding. his hair is messy, his face slightly wrinkled from sleeping still. “they missed you.”

“it was only a day. did megumi get that book report back yet? he was worried about it before i left, but i told him—“

“i missed you.”

you look down, forgetting about pain or blood. “what?”

“i miss you,” he says, this time, like it’s any different. satoru keeps his eyes down, his hands moving. but there's a guilty look on his face--something that tells you he didn't mean to say anything.

“satoru…”

“are you still mad at me?”

you tilt your head. “mad? why would i be mad at you?”

“you haven’t been coming to bed,” satoru answers, obviously.

your eyes widen. “satoru—“ and there’s a sharp pain in your side.

“sorry,” he murmurs, softly, at your flinch.

“i’m not mad at you,” you tell him, trying not to double over. your voice is high-pitched and breathy. you feel like a child—ridiculous and foolish—but it doesn’t stop you from speaking. “i was never mad at you.”

“you weren't?”

“you asked me for space. i was just giving it to you.”

satoru pauses, looking up at you.

“i… i didn’t want to push you into talking to me. i thought—i don’t know, that maybe things had changed. i mean, we don’t have to…” you wince, and it’s not because of the pain this time. “to sleep together. or in the same room. if you don’t want that anymore—“

“no."

"no what?"

he shakes his head. "i want that."

“satoru, you’re not going to hurt my feelings—“

“i was wrong," he cuts in, voice rough. you don't think you've ever heard him say those words before. "i don’t want space, i never did.”

you blink at him, brows furrowing. “then why did you…”

“i—“ he stops. looks around. “does it hurt?”

and you know, just as you know most things about satoru, that he can't continue. that the truth is going to cut just a little bit too deep--deeper than your injury--and he can't bring himself to say it.

so you only take another deep breath, pushing away the feeling of your skin being patched back together, and nod.

“a little,” you say softly.

an unspoken understanding passes between the two of you, and breathing gets a little bit easier all of a sudden.

maybe it wasn't the pain. maybe it was just the tension, the build-up of days apart.

it makes sense, even to your slightly fogged-over mind.

and then the two of you sit there while satoru patches you up, sharing a glance every couple of seconds—a glance with so many words, so tender and feeling that it succeeds in making you even dizzier. blood loss has nothing on the way satoru makes you feel.

you can't see his hands--don't dare to--but you can feel the softness of them, the care he's taking in stitching you up.

if it were any day, you would laugh at him for it. but right now, you just accept it. bask in it.

“how’s that feel?” satoru whispers to you, after he’s tied it off and wiped the blood from your skin.

you don't bother to look down. really, you don't want to see the freshly sutured line on your abdomen, but also, you just want to keep looking at him.

it's much more gratifying, at least.

“good," you say, voice stronger, easier. "is it going to scar?”

satoru scoffs. “if you wanted untouched skin then we should’ve called shoko—“

“shut up,” you interrupt. “i’m not listening to the medical advice of someone who’s never gotten a scratch in his life.”

“i let you scratch me.”

“well, obviously, i’m the exception,” you smile at him, exhausted and sweaty and still a little out of it—but home. with him.

and this time satoru actually smiles back.

it’s a bizarre thing, his smile. the first one you’ve gotten in days and it wakes you up immediately. almost like realizing you’ve been in the dark for weeks, just getting a glimpse of the light.

he's a peek into something more--unearthly. if the closest thing you get to divinity is satoru, then you won't complain.

“you okay?” you ask him, but you’re only teasing.

“that’s my line,” he says.

“you sure?”

satoru leans towards you, forehead against yours. “i’m sure.”

you sit there for a moment. satoru is usually the one clinging to you, but tonight you feel like if he moves away you might never get him back.

so you sit there, make sure to hold him to you, secure with your hands wrapped around his biceps, his arms grazing against yours as he leans against the counter.

you're probably a mess right now--your skin stained with blood that shouldn't be outside your body, your face covered in dirt, your hair and clothes drenched in sweat and rain. but satoru doesn't seem to mind, so you don't think about it too hard.

he deserves it, at least, for making ridiculous assumptions. you have to get him back somehow, after all.

after a minute, or two, or maybe even three, you clear your throat. “great. i’m alive, you’re… less annoying than usual. let’s go to bed.”

“‘less?’” satoru gapes at you, but his laughter is unmistakable.

“yeah, i know," you say, feigning shock, "i was surprised too.”

he flicks your forehead but you’re still smiling at him.

“okay,” satoru whispers, leaning back. “bedtime.”

you rub at the spot around your wound one more time, already feeling the days of sore skin and itchy muscles, and then you push satoru so you can hop off of the counter.

“hey,” he says, suddenly, stopping you. his voice is quick, almost lost. but his hands wrap around your wrists, keeping them between the two of you so you can't escape. and satoru's eyes are on your face, flickering between the different points of your skin, looking like he's just realized that he's lost something.

you raise a brow, but don't push back against his chest or try to pry his hands away. “what?”

satoru swallows, still watching you.

his eyelashes are long enough to touch his skin, and his eyes are blue enough to take up the whole world. you want to grin at the saturation of him--so much brighter than you've seen him in days--but you refrain. you don't want to scare him away.

but you're not so eager to move. it's easy to wait on satoru, really--to wait for his words, to let him collect his thoughts--because you've only spent nine years studying his face. you've only admired the slope of his nose and the tilt of his chin since you were sixteen, and there's much more to be discovered.

so staring at him is simple. especially when there's so much to look at.

you have plenty of unmarked territory you need to take over.

you keep a slight smile on your face while you wait, and eventually, satoru groans, hanging his head back.

“what?” you repeat, laughing just a little.

“can you stop looking at me like that?”

“like what?” you nudge your head against his chin, and satoru glares at you.

“i’m trying to be serious.”

“oh, okay,” you try to push away your smile, but you can't. it's glued where it is. “i’m serious.”

“you’re not.”

“what is it, satoru? i’m listening.”

his eyes meet yours, again, and you almost flinch.

everything about satoru is forceful, except for the way he looks at you. the way his eyes relax, his entire face falling when you're both eye to eye. it's a look you've only observed on one person, in only one particular moment.

and, you think, all of a sudden, it might be your favorite look.

but you're still fed up with waiting. you're tired of his consideration, his contemplative eyes. you want satoru back--with his ridiculous laughter and stupid jokes. you want him irritating the sanity out of you and simultaneously bringing you to life.

you don't tell him that though, because in this moment you'll take what you can get.

any version of satoru is better than none at all. you’ve learned that the hard way.

“hey,” he says, one more time. his smile is unusual, a frightened little thing. “i love you.”

you freeze.

your face falls flat, thinking of the words in a million different ways. you might've misheard him--but you're so locked in on him that it seems impossible.

at once, you consider exactly what he means, so many different variations of the same thing.

does he love you like your parents did, always too much but never enough?

does he love you like you love megumi and tsumiki—like your life depends on it? like you’d be wrecked without them?

or does satoru love you like you love him? does he love you like it’s breathing? like there’s never been a choice in the matter?

but, it's simple. a beat passes, three seconds of contemplation--just enough for the words to ring true throughout your body.

the way he’s looking at you is enough to answer any question you have.

satoru loves you like a promise, and nothing less.

“you idiot,” you say, a sudden, day-breaking smile on your face. “don’t you think i know that?"

"should we wake them up?" tsumiki asks, walking up behind megumi, staring down at you both. she's rubbing her eyes, her hair slightly messy.

megumi considers it for a moment.

neither of them have woken up like this in a while. you and gojo are getting better at falling asleep in bed instead of on the couch.

but, at this point, megumi thinks that it's probably a habit. or just to annoy him.

gojo's face is shoved into your chest and your hands are tangled in his hair. the both of you have silly smiles on your faces, and seriously. how do you both manage to fall asleep in such uncomfortable positions.

"no," megumi whispers, yawning. "i can make breakfast. mom probably got home pretty late."

"okay," tsumiki says, still staring.

megumi rolls his eyes and walks away. honestly, what did he do to deserve getting two idiots for parents?

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pupkashi · 5 months

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gojo can’t wait to marry you, but he will for the sake of one folder in his phone

a/n: i want to marry gojo, sue me!

wordcount: 703

masterlist

satoru would take your engagement ring everywhere he goes with you. he’d have it stuffed in his pants pockets or jacket and you never once suspect a thing.

he’d have so many pictures of you turned around and him holding the ring right behind you, clueless as to what the man you loved was holding a mere foot away from you.

there’s pictures of the two of you at home, making dinner, cuddling in bed, cleaning, teaching the students, at the beach, on a walk, on dates, literally anywhere anytime, and all of them have the beautiful ring in the velvet box, wide open and facing the camera as you stare in the opposite direction, oblivious.

he’d always try his luck, but he was cocky enough to somehow always get away with it, only once almost getting caught when you turned around faster than he thought you would, but you were too amazed with the fireworks to notice him throwing the small box into the bushes next to him (he then had to act like he lost his phone to go and pick the box up again).

there’s a chilly breeze that picks up over the two of you as you scoot closer together under the reds and pinks of the sunset, the grass around the two of you rustling with the wind, clouds floating peacefully.

you’re getting up and grabbing a blanket from the picnic basket, back facing satoru. “thank god we brought these blankets! I didn’t expect it to get so chilly so quickly,” you sighed, fingers melting into the plush fabric of the blanket.

satoru is quick the pull the box out of his sweater pocket, snapping the picture and ready to put it away before you turned around.

time seemed to freeze in the seconds that he took to look at you, radiating and glowing in the suns golden rays, the world painting you in all its colors. maybe it was the sounds of the birds singing or the pair of butterflies that flew past you. or maybe it was the overwhelming sense of love and home that he felt in the moment.

satoru didn’t move, he stayed on one knee, the box wide open and facing you as you turned around.

“i love you, sweetheart,” he smiles, the look on your face knocks the wind out of him as his cheeks begin to hurt a bit from how wide he’s smiling, “i knew after we’d been dating for six months that you were the person i want to spend my life with, that you were all I’d ever wanted and all I’d ever need.”

there’s tears welling in your eyes as he continues to talk, heartfelt words and vulnerability as his hands shake slightly. your mouth is still covered by your hands, mouth slightly agape from shock as your heart beats out of your chest.

maybe it was the swans swimming in the lake besides you, maybe it was the two butterflies from before landing on his shoulder before fluttering off again. or maybe it was the way the sun painted him golden, his blue eyes staring at you, snowy bangs falling perfectly on his forehead, your body warm with love as you nod your head when he finally asks the question.

“will you marry me?” his voice is a lot less confident than usual, a relieved laugh leaving him when you engulf him in a hug, your face burying itself in his neck as before pulling away and crashing your lips onto his.

“of course I’ll marry you angel boy,” you laugh, sniffling a bit as he wipes the tears from your face, taking your hand in his and slipping the ring on.

you can’t help but admire the way it looked on your finger, it was everything you’d ever dreamed of. soon enough you’re staring back into satoru’s blue eyes, giggling as you cup his cheeks and bring his lips to yours, laughing when he grabs you by the waist and spins your around.

he shows you the folder of pictures later that night, and you can’t even be mad at him. not when you realize he had bought the ring the day after your six months.

taglist (send an ask to be added!): @chilichopsticks @anime-for-the-sleepless @4sat0ruu @safaia-47 @nanamikentoseyebags @fushironi @nineooooo @the-mom-friend-dot-com @gojoshooter @sat6ru @beautiful-is-boring @sweetheart-satoru @luna0713hunter @torusmochi

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unclewaynemunson · 7 months

Text

Pt2 of the badly kept secrets of Eddie's heart monitor

After the first two weeks, Steve seems to have suddenly decided to stop visiting Eddie. No explanation, no goodbye: one day he's there, and then he... Isn't. It takes a few days, sometimes, Steve has a life of his own after all, but a whole week goes by with nothing. And another one. Eddie only knows he's alive – and in town – because the others told him when he asked. Maybe Steve's gotten tired of being surrounded by all that hospital sterility. Or maybe he's gotten tired of being around Eddie. Or maybe... Eddie groans and takes up a stare-down with the fucking heart monitor that's still attached to him at all times, his biggest enemy.

Unfortunately, he has way too much time on his hands, alone in this room and unable to do anything but lie in bed and stare at the ceiling. It makes it far too easy to let his thoughts spiral. Maybe – no, probably, certainly, undoubtedly – that goddamn heart monitor was the ideal help for Steve to decipher Eddie's biggest secret without any difficulties.

Yes, that must be the reason why Steve is staying away. Sure, the guy could tolerate being around “the freak” for a few hours a week out of pity, but of course he wouldn't want anything to do with him anymore upon finding out exactly what kind of freaky thoughts he really has about Steve. Steve was polite enough to pretend like he didn't notice the heart monitor speeding up every single time he got in Eddie's proximity, but of course, of course he noticed. He noticed and now he hates Eddie.

And honestly? He has every right to hate Eddie, with the way Eddie has been exploiting every opportunity to get Steve to touch him. Even though he'd regret it right away whenever the heart monitor couldn't shut the fuck up, Eddie never learned from his mistakes. He was even stupid enough to find meaning in the way Steve's touch would linger after helping him lie down or sit up, stupid enough to find tenderness in the way Steve held his arms when helping him out of his bed and to the bathroom. Obviously, Steve never wanted any of that. Obviously, that only made Steve uncomfortable, but the poor guy was too polite to lash out to the dude chained to a hospital bed healing from having all his organs chewed inside out.

Eddie sighs and closes his eyes; not because he wants to sleep, but because the staring contest with the heart monitor isn't really getting him anywhere. Maybe it's for the best that Steve is staying away. That way, Eddie might be able to get over him more easily. He doesn't deserve Steve's friendship anyway.

***

“I wanna visit Eddie today.”

“Alright, have fun,” Steve answers. “Tell him I said hi.”

Robin sighs dramatically. “No, dingus, you're coming with me. I need a ride.”

“No!” It comes out of his mouth a little too quick, a little too loud, and Robin raises her eyebrows at him.

“No, I can't,” he explains in a calmer voice.

Robin raises her eyebrows even further, making them disappear beneath her bangs altogether. “You literally just told me you don't have plans after work.”

“Yeah, but...” He lets his voice fade out and settles on muttering something incomprehensible.

“I did not understand one single word of what you were saying,” Robin points out. She sounds annoyed, but there's a vaguely amused smile playing around her lips, betraying how she really feels about the whole thing. “Seriously, what's up with you and Eddie? Did you have a fight or something?”

“No...”

“Until two weeks ago, you were at the hospital basically every spare minute of your time. You even canceled two dates just so you could spend more time with Eddie! And now, all of a sudden, you'd rather spend your evening on your own at home watching TV than visit your friend?”

“He's not my friend,” Steve protests.

She gives him a punch against his shoulder.

“Okay, I'm pretty sure he hates me, Rob.” Steve finally caves in. “He gets, like, very uncomfortable whenever I'm around. And I don't wanna add to his discomfort any more than necessary, so it's better I stay away from him.”

“Well, I don't know what on earth gave you that idea, but that is by far the biggest load of bullcrap I heard all week,” Robin says matter-of-factly. “He's asked about you every single time I visited him. He'll be happy to see you, dingus, you're coming with me today. No excuses.”

***

Like clockwork, the steady beeping of the heart monitor falters as soon as Eddie locks eyes with Steve. To make things even worse, what little color that is on Eddie's cheeks leaves his face immediately.

Despite the paleness of Eddie's face, Steve can't help but notice how good he looks in comparison to when he last saw him two weeks ago. He's sitting straight up, leaning against a pillow, and the look in his eyes is far from drowsy.

“S-Steve,” Eddie stutters out. “Hi.” He clears his throat. “And – and Robin, of course, hi! Good to see ya, Buck.” He stretches out his arms to embrace her, and Steve awkwardly comes up behind her. It feels weird not to follow Robin's example and give him a hug, but when he bows over the bed and wraps his arms around Eddie, the beeping immediately picks up speed again. To make things even worse, Eddie quite literally recoils from his touch, leaning away as far as possible and letting his arms hover in the air around Steve more than actually hugging him back.

When Steve looks at Robin, he notices that her eyes have grown about twice their normal size while they flash back and forth between Eddie, the machines around his bed, and Steve.

He locks eyes with her and tries to silently convey a See, I told you so about Eddie resenting him. She answers with a barely visible nod and relief fills Steve's chest. He's lucky to have Robin right by his side, his best friend, the one person he can always count on understanding him. She'll get them out of here in no time and leave Eddie in peace and –

“Oh shoot, sorry, I forgot I need to get a, um, a thing from the car,” Robin says. “I'll be right back.”

As she stumbles out of the room, Steve wants to scream at her that that was very much the opposite of what he wanted her to do, but she disappears before he can do anything about it, only leaving an awkward silence in her wake. So Steve has no choice but to turn back to Eddie and take his familiar place in the chair beside his bed.

“I kinda didn't expect to see you anymore.” Eddie is the one to break the silence. He sounds more distant than the last time Steve saw him. It must be worse than Steve thought: Eddie had been happy to be rid of him and now here he is again, after a meager two weeks of peace.

“Sorry,” Steve mumbles. “She insisted I come with her.”

“So you didn't wanna come?”

Steve chuckles darkly at the irony in that question, not really knowing how to answer that.

“Alright, I'm just gonna say it,” says Eddie when it becomes clear that Steve doesn't quite know what to say. “You figured out what I – how I felt about you, didn't you? Cause of the heart thing.”

Steve looks away, stares intently at the ugly dark blue linoleum carpet under his feet.

“Yeah,” he quietly confesses. There's no use denying it now, he figures.

Eddie heaves out a long sigh.

“For what it's worth: I'm really sorry, Steve, I didn't mean to make you-”

“It's fine,” Steve quickly interrupts him. He doesn't think he could bear Eddie's pity right now. “Don't worry about it. I just wanted to give you some space, y'know, get outta your hair for a bit. I didn't want to make this any more painful for you than it has to be.”

“Really?”

The heart monitor stutters again and Eddie's voice sounds weirdly strained. Steve can't help but look up. He's met with big brown eyes that are looking at him like Eddie actually cares about him. For a moment, Steve imagines to see tears, but then Eddie blinks and the illusion is gone.

“I um... I appreciate that, man,” Eddie says.

Another awkward silence dawns over the room.

“Wait,” Eddie says after a few seconds. “So you're not angry?”

“No!” Steve immediately replies – and it's true. He understands why Eddie doesn't like being around him, that too much has happened in the past for them to just move on and hold hands or some shit.

“It's not your fault,” he tells Eddie. He looks away again, back to the floor in front of his sneakers. “If it's anyone's fault, it's mine, right?”

Eddie huffs out a sound of disbelief. “Why, cause you're just too damn sexy, Harrington?”

Steve frowns. “Well, no, cause I was an asshole and I was mean to your friends during all of high school and it's stupid of me to expect you to just get over that shit and-”

“What the fuck does that have to do with anything?”

There's that stutter in the heart monitor again. It makes Steve wonder if he's putting Eddie's health at risk by simply existing next to him. Maybe it would be better to leave Eddie alone and wait in the car until Robin is done with her visit. What the hell is taking her so long anyway?

He keeps his eyes stubbornly focused on the blue floor. “Isn't that why you got so uncomfortable having me around?” he points out. “Look, I get it, man. I was an asshole, it's true. And it was selfish of me to keep showing up here only because you were too polite to say to my face what you thought about me. I was only thinking about myself and about how much I liked being here with you, it wasn't fair.”

All of a sudden, the soft touch of a hand lands on his shoulder. He hates how that makes his own heart speed up. If he were the one attached to a heart monitor, Eddie would've seen right through him in an instant, that's for sure.

He looks up and meets Eddie's wide-eyed, somewhat shocked face.

“You - you thought you were making me uncomfortable?” Eddie asks him, sounding like he's completely gobsmacked.

Steve frowns. “Isn't that what we've been talking about for the past five minutes?”

“Steve,” Eddie says. “I am so sorry. I didn't – I never – Look. Listen.” He removes his hand from Steve's shoulder and roughly wipes it over his face. His heart monitor accelerates even further. “Please don't hate me for what I'm about to tell you, okay?” He doesn't wait for a reaction, only uses his pause to take a deep breath, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment before opening them again and looking right into Steve's.

“I'm gay, Steve. And that evil computer over there-” He points towards the heart monitor, “-keeps betraying my big, fat, gay crush on you. Every time you walk in here, or read my book to me, or do so much as smile at me, I just – God, I'm such a goner for you and there was no hiding it because of that stupid fucking thing.”

This time, Steve is quite sure he is not at all imagining the tears in Eddie's eyes.

“I thought that's why you stopped visiting. Cause you figured out how gay I am – about you – and you didn't want anything to do with that. With me. Being gay. For you.”

Eddie swallows. He lifts a hand and pulls a strand of hair over his face in a poor attempt to hide the truly terrified expression that's all over his features.

“Jesus, Eddie,” Steve breathes out. He can't even begin to comprehend how spectacularly wrong he has been about everything. It's almost like he's in shock. Only a minute ago, he thought Eddie despised him. And now, he has to process the revelation that the guy in fact has had a crush on him – a “big, fat, gay crush” – all along. That the reason his heart was behaving so weirdly was because Steve's proximity made him lovesick. That he recoiled from Steve's touches out of fear that the monitor would give him away and make Steve realize he was gay and in love with him.

“Please say something?” It sounds like a question, small and so afraid of what is about to come.

“Eddie, I – Jesus. This is... A lot. To process,” Steve manages to choke out.

“I know,” Eddie says. “I'm sorry I made you think I hated you. But... Please don't hate me. I really missed you visiting. We can be friends, right? You won't even have to touch me ever again, we can just hang out like bros, and I'll try to get my feelings for you under control, and you can-”

Steve finally gains control over his body again: he leaps forward and presses his lips against Eddie's with slightly more force than he had meant to do.

A surprised yelp escapes from Eddie's mouth, and the beeping of the heart monitor goes even crazier. It makes Steve's own heart do a goddamn cartwheel, that audible proof of what he is making Eddie feel.

He completely understands why the heart monitor is going batshit crazy right now; everything about this is fucking amazing. One of his hands finds its way to Eddie's surprisingly soft hair, and he revels in the feeling of touching Eddie again and in the taste of Eddie's lips against his own, and maybe he should just climb into Eddie's bed to–

“Thank God for that.”

They quickly jump apart to find Robin standing in the doorway, an annoyingly smug grin on her face.

“You two could really not be more stupid if you tried, huh?”

Steve squints at her while his hand blindly finds Eddie's on top of the sheets and curls itself around it. He feels his cheeks heat up, but he doesn't care. Nothing matters anymore, except for Eddie's hand warmly resting in his own.

“Did you even need anything from the car at all?” he asks Robin, raising an eyebrow at her.

“No, of course not,” Robin scoffs. “Just needed you idiots to finally get your shit together. I don't think I've ever met anyone more dense than the two of you, seriously! There were at least three moments when I almost barged in here to just smash your faces tog-”

“You were eavesdropping on us?!”

“Obviously.”

Steve opens his mouth, indignant and ready to tell her exactly how mean and evil she is, but she merely raises a hand and the look in her eyes is terrifying enough to shut him up before he has even started speaking.

“Hey, listen,” she says. Something in her face softens. “I'm really happy for you guys. Seriously, no matter how stupid you are, you two deserve every bit of happiness in the world.” She takes a step backwards towards the door. “I'll go wait in the car, dingus. Go kiss each other some more.”

And before Steve or Eddie can say anything, she winks and closes the door behind her.

Taglist: @estrellami-1 @swimmingbirdrunningrock @saramelaniemoon @lololol-1234 @carlajim98 @7-starboi @acedorerryn @hallucinatedjosten @goodolefashionedloverboi @zoeweee @resident-gay-bitch @my2amgaythoughts @didntwant2come @steveshairspray @noodle-shenaniganery @thedragonsaunt @finntheehumaneater @queerriotgrrrl @co5m0 @dino-nuggets-posts

#in which robin is all of us #don't mind me rambling about stranger things #they're idiots your honor #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #stranger things #fruity ficlet

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dr4kenlvr · 3 months

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jjk men + types of kisses

feat. yuji itadori, megumi fushiguro, ino takuma, choso, noritoshi kamo - fluff

nana's note. thinking about ino and noritoshi a lot ... :( just wanna hold them and kiss them pls gege help a girl out

yuji love love loves cheek kisses. when he walks past you—but doesn't have the chance to stop and talk—he'll place a warm palm on one cheek and smooch a quick pouty kiss to your other. "catch you later, babe!" he calls out as he runs after fushiguro. it always leave you flushed, especially if you're with your friends AHH. yuji expects requited kisses in return as well, and glady accepts them whenever you're willing. he's so cute; leaning on his elbows on the desk, palms propped beneath his chin as he patiently blinks up at you. or rather, expectently. and when you finally kiss him, his eyes sparkle. "my day is going so much better already!"

megumi goes for the modest temple kiss. the kind that he can plant on you anytime without drawing too much attention. approaches this super meticulously so he doesn't fuck up and have nobara or yuji start hollering at you two. he'll grab you with an arm either by your waist or your shoulders and pull you into him before kissing your temple softly and letting go. does this alll the time—for comfort, when he's missed you, when he knows you've missed him. megumi'll smile down at you gently before he moves on with his day, you tagging along behind him.

ino HAS to kiss you on the lips, or it's not a kiss to him (jk he loves kissing every part of you but lips top it all). he's lowkey so sensual with it too like WHATTTT ino???? (im giggling). nimble fingers fleeting up your neck while he pulls you in with his other palm, flat against the small of your back. LOVES it when you lift just the bottom of his mask up cause feels like a superhero BAHAHA. specifically, spider-man for obvious reasons—and you bet he has attempted to do the spider-man kiss with you multiple times (many ending with him landing flat on his face or ass).

choso, dare i give myself the mental image—is a knuckles kisser. hear me OUT, this man is so over his heels in love with you. literally worshipping the ground you step on. but you told him he can’t kiss your feet so he opts to kiss your hands, specifically each of your knuckles. his lips brush over the bone so fleetingly, it’s like he never did it. but his thumb rubs soothing circles on the back of your hand and your face flushes every time you look down at him. his eyes are closed and his bangs sweep over his face perfectly. god, you love your handsome man.

noritoshi (i’m giggling as i type this next part) likes to kiss your shoulders. (someone HELP me i am going INSANE.) only ever does it in the privacy of your guy’s rooms. you will NOT catch him kissing you anywhere else. but it’s kinda hot—private, not secret you know? plus, he makes up for the lack of public affection because the private affection goes so hard. i’m talking noritoshi slowly removing your top, revealing in the way your skin glows when you’re with him. his lips pepper light kisses down your shoulder, making sure to pay extra attention to that spot near the juncture of your neck.

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seungbinbin · 1 year

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meet ugly - hyung line ver.

not every couple has a fairytale start !!

a/n: first headcanons ! idk if i like this format but i thought i could try <3 lmk what u think ! i was also sleep deprived and delirious writing this but i think it’s a little funny heh

warnings: curse words, very ridiculous writing, mentions of food, gn reader ! (lmk if i missed anything!!)

bang chan

you found out there was a new neighbor on your floor

and you were just so excited to make a new friend

plus you heard the lady from the leasing office saying he was really cute 🫣

so you decided to be nice and bake him some muffins for breakfast <33333

what you didn’t know was that your neighbor stayed up until 4am producing a new song

so when you knocked on his door at 8am, bright and early, interrupting his much needed sleep…yeah, he wasn’t very happy

“what do you want? 😒”

oh 😟

you just hand him the muffins, mumble a quick sorry and RUN

he only realizes how rude he was after he wakes up a second time, hours later, seeing the HOMEMADE muffins sitting on his counter with a little note

“welcome neighbor !!!! :)))”

oh my fucking god 😭 he just HAS to apologize

when he finds you (literally knocks on every door on your floor) he says he’s so very sorry and he’s speaking so fast it makes you giggle

“it’s okay, breathe!”

and he decides right then and there that he’ll make it up to you by taking you out for coffee 😋

lee know

studying at a coffee shop was the best thing ever for you

it made it easier to concentrate on your work, it smelled delicious, and the baristas knew you so they always gave you a little cake pop for free <3

you had been hard at work for hours :( poor baby, midterm season is ROUGH

deciding to take a break to rest your eyes from looking at your screen, and your hands from writing, you took a look around and spotted the most beautiful man you had ever seen in your entire life: lee minho !

his hands were full and he looked very annoyed and you thought "woah that's so much coffee!"

what you didn't know is that he had lost the rock, paper, scissors game for coffee duty <///3

and now he was a little (very) irritated carrying 8 cups of coffee

trying to balance 8 large iced americanos was kind of hard, especially in a crowded coffee shop in the middle of lunch rush

but he had everything under control !

until someone bumped into him while he walked past your table

suddenly there was coffee everywhere; on his shirt, on his face and hair, on your face and hair...and all over your table

thankfully, you had managed to pull your laptop away from the disaster before any coffee got on it

however...your review was all wet and messed up

your 6 page, hand-written review you had been working on for the past 4 hours

"holy shit, i'm so sorry-"

and then you were crying 🧍🏻‍♀️ he didn't know what to do

when you explained everything, he offered to rewrite the review for you 🥹

he took the soggy papers with him, then asked for your number (just to ask what he should write and give you the review, totally not because you were the cutest ever! )

changbin

changbin was having an off-day at the gym

he had been trying to beat his last pr but something felt…off

maybe he pulled a muscle while practicing choreography, or his new pre-workout never kicked in

whatever it was, his mind-muscle connection was off and it was beginning to frustrate him

he was so stiff and crampy and ready to go home after his barely-successful arm day >:(

he was angrily typing on his phone with one hand, complaining about his day to chan and holding a 40 pound dumbbell on the other

definitely not watching where he was going !

he walked right into a bench and hit his shin very hard ! ouchie !

which made him lose his grip on the dumbbell and he dropped it

…right on your foot 🥴

“OW, FUCK!”

“oh NO, ARE YOU HURT!?”

“OF COURSE I AM, YOU ASSHOLE, WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU!”

please don’t yell at him he didn’t mean to ! he tears up when he sees you start to cry in pain :(

so he apologizes (and keeps doing so as he carries you to his car so he can drive you to the hospital)

when you told him your roommates were out of town and you weren’t from the area, he offered to stay with you :(

and also offered to pay for any medical expenses

oh he just felt so bad 😞

but it’s okay! the doctor said it was a minor fracture that should heal up in no time !

and like…changbin made you laugh the entire time and he’s so kind and nice and pretty and buff…

perhaps you could forgive him for shattering your big toe! but just this once !

hyunjin

you just wanted a nice, peaceful day at the park

the weather was perfect for a picnic and a book and you just had to take the opportunity

a lot of other people had the same idea to visit the local park

hyunjin included! he wanted kkami to get some fresh air and to stretch his legs from being holed up in his art studio all day

everything was going perfectly fine

and then kkami managed to get out of his leash

chaos ensued; everyone could hear his dramatic ass screaming and chasing his little dog 😭

surprise! kkami ended up at your picnic bc he wanted to eat your snacks

“hello, sweet boy!”

he was so friendly, everything was going so well! you even offered him a strawberry

and then he peed on your book

and bit your finger 🧍🏻‍♀️

hyunjin gets there 30 seconds too late and now he has to apologize for kkami and his chihuahua-ness

“oh my fucking god, i’m so sorry, i don’t know why he would do that! are you okay!?”

yes you are…there’s a beautiful man right in front of you holding your hand and checking on you ‼️

there’s still dog pee on your book tho

“there’s a bookstore near by, can i buy you another copy?”

so cute <3 thank u kkami

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minarinnn · 5 months

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AHHH THIS JUST INVADED MY MIND AND I HAD TO WRITE SOMETHING ABOUT IT

ok so imagine rin itoshi; fast learner, really good grades, top of his class, just a perfect student overall

and then there’s you; slow learner, average grades, late to class, forgets to do homework, and barely passing your classes

so what happens when rin itoshi somehow develops a crush on you?

academic! rin who whispers the answers to you in class

it was another normal day in class. you found yourself with your head laying on the desk farthest from the front, slowly dozing off and cancelling whatever it was your teacher was talking about

“miss l/n… miss l/n!” you heard your teacher yell at you from the front of the class. you lift your head up in slight panic, noticing your teachers furrowed brows and angry pout. “what’s the answer to question number 7?” she inquired, raising her brows and crossing her arms. waiting for you to get it wrong so she can, once again, scold you for dozing off in her class

your eyes roamed the board as they found question number 7. you didn’t want your teacher to scold you again, but was there really another outcome? you didn’t know the answer and you were put on the spot with little to no time to think

“uhh” you spoke, swallowing and taking a shaky breath as your eyes roamed the classroom. “it’s D” rin whispered from next to you. you give him a quick side glance. his teal eyes were focused on his notebook but he was the smartest in the class so you had no choice but to trust him

“it- its D!” you call out. your teachers eyes widen in disbelief as she looks back to the board once more. “c-correct..?” she muttered, still in shock over you getting it correct. she continued to give her class. “thank you” you whisper to rin, his eyes shooting you a quick glance. “don’t worry about it” he muttered, a slight heat rushing to his cheeks

academic! rin who allows only you to copy his homework when you, yet again, forgot to do it

“fuckk” you groan, banging your forehead on the table. “what’s up with you?” rin questioned from his seat. you both sat in the library because you had a free period. “i forgot to do the math homework” you spoke, worry and frustration visible in your tone and face “and i won’t be able to do it in time”

rin said nothing. he simply rummaged through his backpack, looking for his math notebook and upon finding it, pulling it out. he roamed the pages, landing on a specific one and sliding it your way. your brows furrow in confusion, looking up at him for answers. he’s looking away, almost as if he was embarrassed of something. “you can copy off mine” he says, his tone soft in contrast of his normal stoic tone.

“really?!” you gasp im excitement. he nodded his head, finally landing his gaze on your smiling face. “i could literally kiss you right now” you joked, pulling your notebook out and beginning to copy his homework. he rested his cheek in his palm, looking at you with the most loving eyes. “i wish you would” he muttered into his palm.

your ears perked up, not quite catching what he said. “what was that?” “i said i wish you wouldn’t” he lied through his teeth. you rolled your eyes playfully, dismissing his mean persona with a breathy laugh

academic! rin who volunteers to be your tutor as an excuse to spend more time with you

“you seriously still stuck on that question?” rin asked, his face scrunched up in disbelief. you glare at him, letting out a huff before speaking “not everyone has a big brain like you”. he rolled his eyes, secretly liking your compliment disguised in an insult

“i seriously don’t know what i’m gonna do for the test on friday” you sigh “i can’t seem to remember anything”. a light bulb lit up in rins mind. “i can tutor you if you want” he suggested

“you’d do that?” you questioned while he just shrugged, nodding his head a little. “wont i just stress you out?” you question again, not quite sure why he’s doing this

he let out a chuckle, scoffing a bit before speaking “you’d stress me out even more with all your babbling id you fail”. you open your mouth in shock but quickly close it again, knowing that was he spoke was nothing but the truth

“fine. i guess you can tutor me” you rolled your eyes playfully. rin fought every fiber in his body to not smile. spoiler alert: he failed

#thinking about doing a smut version of this but idk #bllk #blue lock #bllk x reader #itoshi rin #rin itoshi #rin #blue lock rin itoshi #rin itoshi x reader #itoshi brothers #itoshi #blue lock x reader

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sugarnspice630 · 5 months

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Dark Room - Wooyoung

"Working these late shifts with you has only made that urge grow, and I can’t contain my thoughts about you anymore."

•pairing: photographer!wooyoung x fem!photographer!reader

•word count: 1.9k

•tags: mdni, nonidol, dark room sex, wooyoung and reader are photographers, sensory deprivation(?), praise, fingering, wooyoung and reader have secretly liked each other for a long time, dirty talk, slight choking, ...did I miss anything?

Summary: Wooyoung and you work late shift at a photography studio and things gets a little risque in the dark room.

A/N: Inspired by my job honestly. Had this fantasy while working late one day and thought..mm yes Wooyoung would do this. I would like to preface that the dark room where I work is NOT the traditional, red lit, dark room. It's literally pitch black when you shut the door. Please be sure to drop a like, reblog if you enjoyed it, and comment your favorite part! Happy reading!

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆───

“Ah shit,” You curse out as you see the message on one of the printer computers. “Wooyoung, can you grab a Color Developer chemical for me? I need to change paper real quick, and my hands are kinda full!” Softly shouting from across the studio in hopes he could hear you from his desk.

“Yeah, I got it Y/N!”

“Awesome! Thank you!”

Both you and Wooyoung have been working the late shift at your photography job for a couple weeks now. You’ve been behind on processing orders because you were understaffed or everyone else had kids to take care of and had to be home by a certain time. This year has been crazy for school and sports pictures; taking on more schools and leagues, needing to train the new hires that only stay about a month and then leave, managing two printers that constantly need either paper changed or chemicals added to the bins, or the printer deciding to eat the photographs, causing you to have to reprint them—it was hell. You and Wooyoung however, were the perfect combination to take on night shifts! Naturally being night owls, not having kids to take care of, and working well together, you got more done than anyone else in the office could from their 7-3 shift. Hell, for the amount of work you do, you should be getting a raise or double pay, but alas, your boss doesn’t think that way.

Taking the empty paper cartridge back to the dark room, you snuck back out and browsed the shelf for the correct roll of paper, grabbing it before you turned around. You snuck a glance at Wooyoung grabbing the chemical off the shelf just down the hall. You shot him a quick smile before going into the room. Setting the paper down on the ground and moving the chair close to the wall so you could get a feel of your surroundings before entering complete darkness. The seal on the door wasn’t the best, so slamming it was the only way to ensure no light would get into the room. You flipped the lightswitch off and sat down in the chair.

While opening the paper case, you couldn’t help but think of the way Wooyoung’s long, black hair framed his face perfectly, when his bangs would occasionally get in his eyes, and the way he would tossle his head to move the pieces out of his way. Sometimes, when it was hot outside on a sports shoot, he would tie it up into a cute ponytail with such ease. The way he interacted with kids while on shoots, seeing his childlike nature come out and the kids getting along with him, was great. It absolutely melted your heart to see him so good with the kids. Always getting the best smiles out of them and staying on schedule while making the kids feel comfortable. On the opposite side of the spectrum, he really knew how to run the show. The way his voice commanded all the other employees on the job, telling them exactly what to do and making sure they were doing everything correctly. He hated to see people getting yelled at for taking “bad” photographs, but really it’s just the head photographer having a stick up his ass and being hard on everyone else while he does the same level of work, so he just wanted to make sure he appeased everyone.

Being in your own head, thinking about Wooyoung while changing the paper, you hear three knocks on the door.

“Helloooo? Y/N? You alright in there? Did you get swallowed by the dark abyss?” Wooyoung’s voice rang out from the other side.

“Shit.” You mutter to yourself. “N-No Wooyoung, I’m fine and perfectly alive! I just uh..had trouble closing the…lid.” You faked slamming the “lid” shut to make your statement seem believable.

“Oh gotcha, yeah, that thing is a bitch sometimes. Well, could you hurry up? I haven’t been able to finish the chemical cause I have to grab water and well uh…you’re in the room with the sink.”

“Oh right! Sorry!” You scrambled to clean the area up, almost forgetting there is a giant box in front of you and hitting your foot against the top of it, causing you to almost fall forward onto the door handle, but you caught your balance just in time. You pick up the cartridge and set it on the chair you were just sitting in to make room to open the door. You grabbed the handle, slowly turned it, and pulled the door towards you, hoping not to scare Wooyoung. You peaked your head around the side of the door and smiled.

“She’s all your’s~!” You stepped into the light and looked at Wooyoung to see his hands were empty and not carrying the water jugs. Your eyebrows contorted. “Uh.. your hands are empt-.” Your words were cut off by Wooyoung pushing you back into the room, grabbing the door from your hands, and slamming it behind him. The darkness of the room settled in, and you felt uneasy, not knowing where Wooyoung was. “W-Woo?”

“I’m right here~.” He said lowly and you felt his breath against the side of your neck. His hands softly trailing down your side and stopping right above your waist.

“What the fuck are you doing?” You protested and tried to squirm your way out of his grasp. His grasp on you only tightened as he had no intention of letting you go.

“Y/N I can’t help myself. Ever since the first time I saw you, I’ve had the biggest crush on you. Working these late shifts with you has only made that urge grow, and I can’t contain my thoughts about you anymore.” You felt your cheeks get hot and your thighs clench together. Did he really think about you this way?

“W-Wooyoung..” Your voice trailed off, not knowing how to feel about his confession.

“I think about you every night before I go to bed. Perhaps in ways that I…shouldn’t, but you’re just so beautiful.” Wooyoung brushes the stray hairs off your face and tucks them behind your ear. His breath feels warm against you and sends chills down your spine. You feel Wooyoung lean closer to you and his lips are right against your ear. “I touch myself to the thought of you. My name coming out of those precious lips of yours. I want you so bad Y/N. Please.”

“Fuck.” You mutter softly. His hands playfully sliding up and down your waist. You couldn’t help but feel excited at the thought of Wooyoung thinking about you this way.

“If I may have your permission, Y/N.” You softly nodded your head, allowing him to touch you in whatever way he wanted to. “I can’t see you love; I need you to use your words for me.”

“Y-yes Wooyoung…please.” You beg, and not a moment later, Wooyoung is kissing down your neck, occasionally nipping at your skin, causing you to groan. You tilt your head back so it is resting on his right shoulder. The feeling of his lips against your neck is intoxicating and you couldn’t get enough. He continues to kiss and suck at your neck, making sure to mark you up nice and pretty. A few kisses later, he grabs your hips, giving you a heads-up.

“Turn around baby.” His hands allow you to spin in place, not leaving your side and once you are fully turned around, he places them back onto your hips and you feel him lean into you again. Your lips search for his through the darkness, bumping into his cheek accidentally, and you let out a soft giggle. Soon your lips meet and you are passionately making out in the dark. His hands continue to feel up and down your body, one hand snaking its way to your ass and he grips it harshly. A soft moan leaves your mouth into the kiss. You feel Wooyoung’s lips form a smirk and he continues to grip onto your ass.

“You like that, huh?”

“Fuck, y-yes I do~.” You pant out, slightly out of breath. Wooyoung’s other hand, not playing with your ass, begins to toy its way down your waistband and slips through down to your underwear. His fingers tease the wet patch in your underwear that has been forming since he slammed the door, causing you to moan and tilt your head back against the door.

“So wet for me already babygirl~. You’ve wanted this to happen for a while, haven’t you?” You can only moan in response, his fingers pressing into you and you hear Wooyoung groan softly, his hips rutting against your thigh as he fingers you. “Making me so…fuck…fucking hard.”

“Woo..p-please stop teasing m-me. I need you.”

“As you wish~.” He wastes no time pushing your underwear to the side and slipping his fingers inside you.

“Fuck!” You cry out. His fingers stretching you more than your own or any toy ever has. You bite your lip and grind against his hand.

“H-Holy shit you do need me.” He chuckles at your body reacting this way to him. You’re absolutely driving him insane. “Wish I could see that pretty face of yours. Watch your face as I fuck you nice and good with my fingers.”

“W-Wooyoung~.” The dirty talk was getting you to your climax faster than you thought. His voice ringing through your ear like a melody you wanted to listen to on repeat forever.

“Fuck Y/N, you’re taking them so well.” You can’t see his face, but the way that sentence came out sounded like he was gritting his teeth together. You could feel your head spinning and you knew you were close to your release.

“Wooyoung, I-.” Your words are cut off by a moan slipping from your throat. “I need your hand on my neck.”

“Ho hoh~ kinky are we~? I always knew you were a whore.” Wooyoung quickly takes the hand that was playing with your ass and grabs your neck—not too hard, applying just enough pressure that you were seeing static.

“Y-Yes! Just like that.” You manage to choke out and feel the knot forming in your stomach. Your pussy clenches around Wooyoung’s fingers.

“Want you to cum on my fingers princess. I know you can do it.” Wooyoung’s demanding encouragement was all you needed to hear for the knot in your stomach to release. Wooyoung’s grip on your neck lessens, and a string of curses mixed with his name come out of your mouth. "Fuck, you sound so beautiful. Exactly how I pictured it.” Wooyoung pulls his hand out of your pants and kisses your lips gently.

“W-Wooyoung~.” Your voice is no louder than a whisper.

“Sshhh sh sh darling, I know~. Take your time recovering.” Wooyoung caresses the side of your face and wraps his other hand around your waist. He gently moves you out of the way and opens the door slowly, letting the light from the hallway come in, and you squint your eyes from being in the dark for so long. Wooyoung turns around and looks at you. "Fuck, you’re gorgeous even after your insides get rearranged by my hand.” You softly chuckle at his remark and lift your hand to swat at his shoulder.

“Not my fault; you know your way around~.”

“Guess working these late shifts together helped me get to know you better~.” A soft smile forms on his face. You feel yourself blush, and you shy away from looking at him. “Come on. Let’s get back to business.” He offers his hand for you to grab and you gladly take it. He walks you out of the room and down the hallway into the main area of the building.

“So…you working tomorrow~?” You ask playfully.

“I most definitely will be if you’re here.”

“Always.”

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norrizzandpia · 8 months

Text

Best Friends To Benefits To Lovers (OP81)

Summary: They’ve been dating for months after being the closest of friends for years. The question is, however, did they start out as best friends with benefits?

Warnings: NAH BRO WATCH YOUR TEETH FALL OUT FROM THIS SWEETNESS

Note: This is based off the idea for This Is About Oscar?! and Who Is Oscar Piastri? just not with the same exact plot line

ynnn it’s here!!! goodnight n go is something that took years to make because I was in that specific situation for so long until it shifted. It replicates a dilemma I thought I would have to die with, but, in the end, my deepest desires came to fruition. goodnight n go is all yours when it used to be just mine and Oscar’s and we wouldn’t have it any other way 💌

Comments:

oscarpiastri so proud of you my love ❤️

Liked by ynnn

mclarensgirly BYE IM CRYING AFTER LISTENING TO THAT

ln4andop81 I DIDNT KNOW WHAT GOODNIGHT N GO WOULD MEAN BUT NOW I DO AND ILL NEVER GO BACK

landonorris awww such a good song! (there were a few lines in there that i physically recoiled at)

- f1fan22 he heard “i got you, i got you dreamin, you close your eyes and you’re screamin,” and dug his grave

- mclarensgirlll i would love to see oscar screaming

- oscarpiastri you can just not in that sense but i would be happy to scream in your face!

- mclarensgirlll YOU COULD DO THAT TOO

- ynnn im gonna have to veto that one sorry

—

TWITTER

f1fan2 SOO ARE WE GONNA TALK ABT YNS NEW SONG?? ITS THE WAY WE FINALLY GET CONFIRMATION THAT THEY WERE BEST FRIENDS AND THEN STARTED SLEEPING TOGETHER AND THEN JUST ABSOLUTELY FELL HEAD OVER HEELS FROM THERE

- mclarensgirly YEAH BC SHE SAID IT WAS A SPECIFIC SITUATION SHE WAS IN FOR YEARS BEFORE IT SHIFTED AND THE FACT THAT SHE BASICALLY CONFIRMED IT WAS ABT OSCAR WITH THE FACT THAT SHE SAID IT HAD BEEN THEIRS BUT NOW ITS OURS LIKE IM CRYING WE ALL WATCHED THEM BE IN LOVE WITH EACH OTHER PAINFULLY FOR SO LONG

- ln4andop81 “one of these days you’ll miss your train and come stay with me” I CRIED SHE DREAMED OF THEIR LIFE TOGETHER WHEN SHE THOUGHT SHE WAS JUST A QUICK FUCK TO HIM BUT SHE. WASNT. 😭😭😭😭 SHE NEVER WAS

- mclarenfan22 ITS SO WIERD TOO BC ALL THE FANS AND MEDIA KNEW HE WAS IN LOVE WITH HER WITH THE WAY HE LOOKED AT HER BUT THE SONG TELLS US THAT SHE DIDNT “we’ll have drinks and talk about things and any excuse to stay awake with you” LIKE SHE JUST WANTED TO BE WITH HIM

- mclarensgirly AND SHE RESISTED HIM TOO BC SHE WAS AFRAID TO FALL IN LOVE “why’d you have to be so cute? It’s impossible to ignore you. Why must you make me laugh so much? It’s bad enough we get along so well. Just say goodnight and go.” GAHDAMN

- ln4andop81 i literally can see him leaving her on the weekends to go race and them both thinking the other doesnt want anything more BUT THEY DO “and you’d sleep here, i’d sleep there… we’d be good, we’d be great together” SHE ALWAYS WANTED HIM TO STAY 😭😭

- mclarensgirly im glad she sat on this one and got together with him before releasing it bc i dont think i couldve handled it if they werent together and THIS SONG came out

- mclarenfan22 real.

—

oscarpiastri i’ll never again just say goodnight and go 💗

Comments:

mclarensgirly so im fully sobbing now.

ynnn you missed the train

- oscarpiastri i was always destined to miss that train baby

- f1fan2 THROWING UP CRYING OUT LOUD SOBBING BANGING MY HEAD AGAINST THE WALL WTF

landonorris you always goodnight n go me.

- oscarpiastri do i really need to explain the difference to you?

- ynnn lando back off hes MINE.

- landonorris well we will see abt that.

- oscarpiastri im hers. end of discussion.

—

ynnn WHY’D HE HAVE TO BE SO CUTE 🫨

Comments:

oscarpiastri natural talent?

- ynnn i would agree with that

mclarensgirly WHEN WILL I GET WHAT THEY HAVE FUCKING BEST FRIENDS TO BENEFITS TO FALLING IN LOVE I WANNA GOUGE MY EYES GOD WHERE ARE YOU

- ynnn should i be concerned for you?

- oscarpiastri i dont think you should… i mean shes just jealous of us which makes sense ‼️

- ynnn she said she wanted to gouge her eyes out osc 🤨

- oscarpiastri YEAH IT MAKES SENSE I WOULD WANNA GOUGE MY EYES OUT TOO IF I WASNT WITH YOU

- ynnn so i should be concerned for you too.

- oscarpiastri nah im just in love

- ynnn yeah i get it

#f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris x reader #mclaren #lando norris fanfic #lando norris fluff #lando norris imagines #oscar piastri #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri fanfiction #oscar piastri imagines #oscar piastri fanfic #oscar piastri smut #oscar piastri fluff #Spotify

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reallyromealone · 6 months

Note

Hear me out. Bonten Mikey x omega male reader

A few years after mikey and m/n broke up, mikey discovered that m/n has a 6 year old daughter who looks like a copy of mikey, and mike like connects rhe timeline and realizes m/n was pregnant at the time of their break up but m/n never told him bc he didnt want his kid to be involved in the mafia/gang shit

-🐰 (late birthday gift for me 🥹?)

It's A VERY LATE FIC I'M SO SORRY

🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐

(Name) smiled as he put his little pups hair in pigtails, her bangs/fringe pinned back with a cute bubble hair band, today they were visiting Draken and Inui and little (daughters name) wanted to dress her best for her favorite uncles--- don't tell the others.

(Daughters name) was (name)s world, the sweetest little pup in the world who was absolutely precious.

Though sometimes it hurt to look at her, she was literally a spitting image of her father-- (name) never realized how feminine Mikey looked till his pup came into the world, but he loved her so much. She was the kindest and most selfless little thing ever. It wasn't the easiest at times but with the support of his friends he managed. Just starting first grade, (name) was thankful to work at the bike shop and being able to collect his little sunshine.

"Don't forget the cookies papa!" (Daughters name) said excitedly as left for their visit, without a care in the world.

Many would ask "where's the sire" upon learning (name) was a single parent, the question annoying and invasive but (name) always lied and made up an excuse about the father being overseas and such.

He refused to let anyone know about the actual reason, that being (daughters name)a father was the most dangerous man in Tokyo, (name) was thankful as much as he was hurt that Mikey dumped him.

He refused to let anyone go through what he did with Kanto Manji Gang.

With what Mikey was quickly becoming.

It was sheer /fucking/ chance that Mikey was waiting for the light to change in his limo as (name) stood at the cross walk holding hands with--

Holy s h i t.

"...boss are you seeing what we're seeing" Kakucho and Sanzu stared in Shellshock as they looked at a tiny Mikey with pigtails and a little dress, all of them doing the mental math and coming to a quick realization that holy fuck (name) was pregnant.

He was pregnant that day, oh my god that's what he wanted to talk to Mikey about!

"What are your thoughts on kids?" (Name) asked awkardly as they ate dinner, Mikey surpisingly home for once to do so "annoying, would get in the way" the blond said simply "a liability"

(Name) forced himself not to place his hand on his stomach, anxiety riddling his body "I see..."

"Why?"

"Just curious"

Mikey was always so disinterested in (name) these days, (name) always suspected that he was cheating, never saying anything though.

(Name) wanted to just scream.

Mikey remembered that night.

It was the night Mikey dumped him, a rash decision on his end and during one of his dark impulse moments.

He immediately regretted it after, the pained look on (name)s face and they hadn't seen each other since.

(Name) had many expectations of life, but seeing his ex sitting on his couch after he put his pup to bed, noticing the other Bonten men guarding the apartment "the fuck are you doing here" Mikey expected (name)a hostility and glanced up "that's my kid"

"What do you want Mikey" (name) wasn't having any conversation, he wanted to know what the hell he was doing here "I want to meet my kid"

"And get involved in your bullshit? Absolutely not! "Babies are a liability" remember that Mikey?" He hissed out and Mikey sighed, knowing this wasn't going to be easy "I deserve to meet her"

"You lost that chance when you broke up with me, I'm not letting my daughter deal with your shit, Mikey you're /dangerous/! She's six and I don't want her to ever go through what I went through!"

"I can keep you both safe!"

"YOU COULDN'T EVEN KEEP ME SAFE!" (name) was crying at this point, so angry at his once beloveds audacity"I kept her away for a reason Mikey, you are dangerous! She gets to play with her friends and have sleep overs! Has sleep overs at the friends you left behind! She gets to have a childhood that isn't currupted!"

"Why can't you let her have that?" (Name)s voice was broken and his body shaking, he would sacrifice everything for his daughter and at this moment he would stand his ground.

Bonten would poison her.

"Can...can I just please /know/ my daughter"

(Name) was tired, he was tired of it all "if you can /promise/ me that nothing will happen to her, I will let you meet her but one slip up Sano and I will never let you see her again"

#tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers x male reader #male reader #bonten x reader #omegaverse #omega male reader #mikey tokyo revengers #anime x male reader #anime x reader #angst

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tange-my-rine · 1 month

Text

borrow some sugar || Tangerine × gn!reader

Summary: You were living in the city, on your own. It was your dream though, you'd known it was far from home but you needed the space. Well, wanted the space. Didn't mean it wasn't lonely. The one time you actually met your neighbor, of course, you put your literal whole life in danger.

TW: blood, guns, murder, threats, cursing (it's Tangerine), protective!Tangerine (eventually), kidnapping, threats, and all things bullet train.

[[A/N: love a good normal person × Tangerine, and this is the epitome of that. Except you get way too wrapped up in it.]]

"Yeah, I know," you echoed out, fetching your keys out of your pocket -mindlessly walking through the hallway, "-I'm always safe, you know that."

Pressing your phone onto your shoulder, you heard a sort of bang -a heavy thud really, on the wall.

You furrowed your brows, the neighbor on that side was usually quiet. Like unusually quiet. You'd seen him, maybe once or twice in the hallway -he'd never said a word to you. Always wearing a suit and a super serious face, you'd assumed he was some sort of corporate worker with insane hours.

"Look," you spoke, unlocking your handle, "-I have to go, but I'll call you back tomorrow. I'm home already."

Slipping into your apartment, you sighed, pushing your phone into your pocket, dropping your keys, and taking off your shoes by the door. With the familiar thrum of your fridge, you mindlessly wander up to your couch and drop your bag.

It had been a terrible day at work, your boss was... well, your boss. And your work was exhausting, your feet hurt and your brain was working on the migraine of the century-

You just wanted to eat and watch your comfort TV show and turn your brain off -for an hour, at least. If not for the last few hours before you went to sleep, that was dream case scenario. Finally, when your brain was succumbing to the buzz of the voices, your eyes drifting shut, and the couch seemed so fluffy, there was a noise.

At first, you ignored it -figured it was your brain or something out in the hallway.

But then, it came back -a clear, harsh knock.

'2:30 am,' flashed across your screen as you looked at it, and then again, seriously, you thought you imagined it. Because who would that be?

You were fully awake now, leaning up on your couch, staring at your door -waiting, testing if it was real.

Knock.

Huh, you stood up -wiping at your eyes, and slowly slinking to the door.

"Hello?"

You don't know what you expected, but it certainly wasn't what you saw.

It was your neighbor, sweaty with ripped clothes (a suit, you think) -was he ever in anything else? His eyes were lidded, nose bleeding, it stained his mustache, and you were pretty sure there was a knife in his shoulder-

"You 'ave any first aid?" He had an accent, a crazy accent that somehow suited him but you didn't expect at all.

"Are you-" you were in disbelief, "-Are you okay?"

He paused, before retorting -frankly, "Did you hear a fuckin' word I said, love?"

"Sorry, sorry," you swallowed, beckoning him inside, "-I think I have one in my bathroom. Just- Just sit at the counter."

"Right, thanks."

You weren't even sure your feet were touching the ground at this point, but still, you were quick -sifting through your cabinets.

A man is bleeding out in my kitchen, your brain panged, -a man is bleeding out in my kitchen.

Blinking, you mindlessly -in an entirely different way now- but directly made your way to the kitchen. A kit in your hand, you pinched yourself for a moment -this would be one weird fucking dream.

As you said, the man sat on a stool -blood dripping down onto your tile. You briskly wondered how to get that out, before sliding all the supplies across the countertop -the clatter filling the quiet air.

Pulling yourself onto the stool opposite him, you licked across your lips -fidgeting with some packaging.

"You couldn't just borrow some sugar?" you mumbled, taking out an alcohol wipe.

"What?" He furrowed his eyebrows, frown still present on his lips -it seemed like it stayed there.

"This-" you motioned to him, "-is the first time we've met. You couldn't do a normal neighbor thing? Like borrow sugar-"

"Sorry, love," he rolled his eyes, "-I'll think of it fuckin' next time, yeah?"

"You should," you scoffed, "-I don't think every neighbor would appreciate bloodstains."

"And you do?"

"No," you stressed out, dabbing at a cut along his cheek -not the worst one but the first one you could handle right now, "-I am barely awake right now, and I'm half convinced you aren't even real-"

"Very real," he tsked, less biting this time.

You digested that information, swallowing dryly. A man, in some business, was on your stool, bleeding.

"Honest question," You pursed your lips, before focusing on another cut above his eyebrow. You were blatantly ignoring the knife, you literally had no idea-

"Go ahead," he huffed out, breaths puffing out of his chest.

"How the hell did you get stabbed?"

The man paused, thinking over his answer (why did he have to think?), "Break-in?"

You raised an eyebrow, tossing out the wipe, "You sure about that answer?"

"Better if ya didn't know, love," he mended -blue eyes slinking over your kitchen.

You hummed, picking through the material -thank god you took that sewing class, "Kind of expected that, mysterious suited neighbor."

"Tangerine."

You flicked up your eyes, confused, "Is that... Is that your safeword, or...?"

"Fuckin' hell," he sighed, using a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose, "-'s my name."

"Your name?" you questioned, tone raising.

"My brother-" he began before shaking his head -solidly, "-Doesn't fuckin matter, are ya gonna get to the knife wound or?"

"Listen," you spoke -a little pressed, "-I'm not one to stitch up wounds, Tangerine. I have to remember my sewing class-"

"You gonna stitch up my fuckin' shirt then, love?"

"Oh my god," you exhaled through your nose, "-no wonder you had to come to a stranger."

He opened his mouth -eager to bite back, but you promptly interrupted him.

"I have no experience," you said, taking the knife handle into your hand, "-but I'm pretty sure this is going to hurt like hell."

"Lucky for you, love," he spoke through labored breaths -wrapping his fingers around yours, "-I'm very fuckin' experienced."

And then without hesitation, he tugged it out.

The next few moments were bloody and unreal to you -your hands working quickly but your brain significantly falling behind. You could cross 'stitching up a wound on a handsome man' off your bucket list if it was ever even on there.

Now, you sat on the stool -hands sticky red, and your shirt (one of your better pjs, sadly) stained just the same. With a roll of bandages, you wrapped his shoulder with tedious little movements -eyes focused only on the skin. Only looking up when you'd tied it off, mind finally settling.

"Is that everything?" You asked, careful to not put your hands anywhere except your shirt.

"Yeah," he spoke, softer, "-just some bruisin', I think."

"Let me get you some peas," you echoed, sliding down from your stool -steps slow, you were just tired.

He didn't speak a word, as you dug through your freezer -finding one at the very bottom, of course.

You extended your hand, the cold sensation keeping you up -aware. Right now, your brain was in overdrive, probably ever since he'd shown up at your door, and your body merely just followed behind.

He shifted, grabbing it from you -you saw a kiss of a tattoo that you were curious about but not enough to ask. Your eyes sunk along his shirt, which was not a shirt anymore, all bloodstained and ripped up.

Before you could stop it, you were asking, "Do you need new clothes?"

Tangerine paused, looking at you like you grew a third head. You were past that point, you had his literal blood on your hands -there was no need to be shy now.

"'Had a boyfriend about your build," you clarified, "-I never gave him back like 10 shirts, so-"

"10?" He interrupted and you thought you might've seen a smile quirk onto his lips.

"He smelled good," you offered, before spinning to the kitchen and proceeding to scrub your hands with no hesitation, "-You want one or not?"

"Yeah," he sighed out, a little awkwardly, "-Yeah, thanks."

"While I'm at it," you spoke over your shoulder, "-do you need a place to stay?"

He pursed his lips, hand pushed into the peas against his ribs -you imagined it would be a big bruise in the morning.

"I'm pretty sure whatever happened," you emphasized, "-left a mess. I have a couch if you need it."

"Bein' awfully fuckin' nice to a stranger," he hummed, eyes tired.

"I figured you would've killed me way earlier," you remarked, finally drying them on a nearby towel, "'Had some good opportunities."

He smiled then, you actually saw it with your own two eyes -you almost thought you were hallucinating. His head tilting back, as his shoulder pressed against your counter -he looked kind of like a painting, all twisted angles and sharp jaw.

"What's yours?"

You furrowed your eyebrows, "My what?"

"Your name, love," he answered, soft and attentive -much different than before (you kind of thought he might've lost too much blood).

"You wanna know that now?" You laughed, but even still you told him -there was something about him that made you feel at ease. He really shouldn't have.

He stayed that night, cozied up in your ex-boyfriend's shirt (which he looked surprisingly good in) and freshly showered. You didn't see him when you woke up that morning, and you didn't know why you had expected it.

A few weeks go by, and you were pretty sure that he moved out. Which, in retrospect, made sense, even still something in you felt kinda disappointed. He was the first person you'd actually talked to in months.

Coworkers didn't count.

You shook your head, he was literally covered in blood. In a business he couldn't talk about, and you missed him? You were officially losing your mind.

"Stupid," you muttered, eyes dipping across the TV -some sort of cheesy romcom that you'd never seen before in your life but still felt nostalgic to watch. It wasn't the worst thing you'd ever seen.

Good enough to sit and eat your favorite meal to, it was interesting enough to keep you awake.

When you finally slinked off to bed, and tossed into your fluffy comforter and soft pillows, you were exhausted. Far too exhausted to stay awake any longer. So, you didn't.

The sun was creeping through your window when you woke up, but not a morning sun -a too early sun. You groaned, looking to your phone and seeing without a doubt, it was 4:15 am. At first, you didn't know why you'd woken up so early but then you heard it.

A knock.

Initially, you were not going to move because it was warm here and you were tired.

But then you thought about if it was him, and if in the morning you'd see him dead on your doorstep. That would be suspicious, and you'd probably end up in jail-

You sighed, pulling yourself out of the bed and pattering to the door. And when you swung it open, you were met with familiar blue eyes.

Before you could stop it, you asked, "Don't you have any friends?"

He barked out a laugh -chuckle really, but something in him seemed nervous (like he wasn't sure if he should have come), "Lovely to see you too, love."

"Right," you agreed, before shuffling to the side and letting him in. He relaxed ever-so-slightly.

The first thing you noticed was a split on his forehead, just a cut -it wouldn't need any stitches (thank god, these pajamas were your favorite), and then you dipped to his clothes which were actually in tack. It was a blue suit, really complimented his eyes, and you wondered distantly if he did that on purpose. He seemed the type.

His pants though were dirty, and you could see him limping -only slightly. He was definitely not in as bad as shape as before though; you really wondered why he was here.

"Sit," you motioned to the stool and disappeared into your bathroom.

You got much of the same things and climbed onto the stool beside him, eyes sweeping across his face. Now that you were closer, you could see little cuts along his skin -teeny tiny.

"Glass bottle," he offered before you could say anything.

You hummed, nonchalantly, "Coulda guessed."

Your brain was numb at the moment, still sleepy and you once again thought this might've been a hallucination. He was handsome after all, and you did daydream about handsome men so it definitely could be. And you guessed you could have a saviour thing-

You stopped your train of thought, interrupting the silence as you dabbed at his forehead, "You know I'm not a doctor, right?"

He spoke, frankly, "You talked about a sewing class when you needed to stitch up my bloody fuckin' knife wound, love."

You nodded, fair point, before continuing, "Then why are you here?"

Tangerine paused, and you thought distantly he didn't have an answer, until he answered, "'Hard to do myself."

You thought for a moment, before replying, "What about your brother?"

"Not in the fuckin' country," he answered simply -something frustrated in his tone. But then again, when wasn't there?

"Hmm," you hummed, before rubbing the rest of the tiny cuts -he hissed slightly, "-different job?"

"No," he exhaled, "-just a different... mission."

"'Make it sound like you're a super spy," you laughed, "-but Tangerine isn't a very cool codename."

"Fuck you."

"You are such a joy," you remarked, debating bandaging the top cut, "-Are bandaids too baby for you?"

"Plasters?" He asked.

British, right, you nodded -waving one in your fingers, "Yeah, I think it's all I've got for your wounds. Well, unless you want it wrapped around your head-"

"'s fine," he muttered -low but you still caught it.

"Good," you assured, sticking one to his skin -fingers fluttering along his skin (when was the last time you touched someone?).

"Alright," you leaned back, gathering up your supplies -promptly ignoring the thought, "-all done here. Your leg-"

"Bruised ankle," he clarified -explaining the limp.

"Oh," you spoke, "-I'll get the peas again."

Your eyes dipped to his pants, covered in... something (maybe a mix of blood and dirt?), "And a pair of pants."

He didn't say a word, merely staying seated, as you grabbed the peas -sliding them across your counter. Before stalling slightly, asking-

"Do you even still live here?"

He pressed his lips together, apparently debating telling you -which you were slightly offended by, "No."

"So you're staying?" You asked, neutrally.

"Don't 'ave to," he spoke -not combative, and you really thought you were hallucinating then.

You tilted your head, confused, "You can stay, didn't I say that before?"

He nodded, still so wordless, and you were honestly the most confused you ever could be. Tangerine was quieter, softer, and it was nothing like the time before; he even seemed grateful.

"Honest question," you started.

"Yeah, love?"

"Are you okay?" You decided, careful wording with eye contact strong. You two were kind of close, he left his life in your hands -it was strangely intimate. Your relationship was very confusing, but it felt right to ask.

"Yeah," he answered -furrowing his brows, "-these wounds are fuckin' nothing, love. I have been far, far closer to death."

"No, I mean-" you clarified, "-like mentally. You're being too nice."

He raised his eyebrows, "Too nice?"

"Yeah," you stressed like it was obvious, "-you are like grateful and shit. You've barely cussed at me."

"You saved my fuckin' life, love," he questioned, "-shouldn't I be kind for 'at?"

"You should," you agreed, before contradicting, "-but you don't."

He was quiet then, eyes not meeting yours as his fingers tapped against your counter -seemingly running things over in his mind. It was awhile that he was doing that, but you patiently waited. You suspected opening up at all wasn't his forte.

Finally, still looking around your living room, he mumbled, "'Needed to see someone."

You took him at his word -not dwelling because it really felt like he didn't want to, and the rest of the night was the same. He took the pants, slept on the couch, and was gone in the morning -even though he couldn't have slept more than a few hours.

It started happening pretty regularly after that. You'd fix him up, he'd talk, you'd talk, he'd stay over. You started loosening up, talking about your job, and your life -nothing super specific. He stayed clammed up about his job, but his personal life he did talk about -there wasn't much, but he did talk about his brother.

You felt like that was a big thing.

And then, after quite a few months between visits, you heard a knock at your door. Super late as always, you made your way to it -expectant and in routine. This time though, there were two of them: a familiar Tangerine, and a man with bleached tips and a surprisingly big smile.

"Hello," he smiled and it was very odd -Tangerine hardly smiled, "-lovely to meet ya, I'm Lemon."

You could assume from the name, even still, you felt a little out of place, "Nice to meet you."

"Brother," Tangerine motioned to him -frustration nearly radiating off of him, as he made his way inside.

"Rude," Lemon spoke, "-can I come in?"

"Yeah, of course," you exhaled, letting him in.

Tangerine was relatively well -bruised knuckles, a busted lip, and a mild slice on his collarbone. Lemon was even better with just a black eye, atleast on the surface.

Instead of on the stool, Tangerine beelined straight to the bathroom -slamming the door.

You pursed your lips, turning to Lemon for answers, "What the hell is wrong with him?"

"Annoyed 'im into takin' me 'ere," he answered simply, "-'Wanted to meet who my brother was talkin' about."

He talks about me, you thought for a moment -you fully believed that you were a little miniature part of his life, not something he'd talk about. Especially to his brother.

He must've seen your confusion, because he continued.

"Oh, he never shuts up, love," he laughed, "-'Feel like I already fuckin' know ya."

"Huh," you responded, puzzled.

You thought about it for a second, running over the idea in your mind. What did he have to talk about? Your life? Your boring job, your lack of love life, your favorite cheesy movies? He told that to his brother? His brother with the same unbelievable life?

Why the hell would he do that?

"Please, sit on my couch," you finally spoke, wandering towards the kitchen with intent, "-I'll get you something cold for your eye. And then, I'll deal with the tantrum."

"Thanks," Lemon smiled, tottering off to your TV and without hesitation, popping it on.

He really was very comfortable for not knowing you. How much had Tangerine said?

You stepped into the living room, offering the same peas to Lemon (did you even like peas?) that you often gave Tangerine. He smiled gratefully.

"Do you need any like Tylenol?" You asked, further -eyes swiftly drifting over his eye, it was a nasty sort of yellow, "-that one is a shiner."

"So nice," Lemon hummed, "-no wonder my brother was hoggin' ya. But, I'll be alright, 'ave had worse."

You nodded, before slowly making your way toward the bathroom. Raising your hand, you gently knocked -nothing compared to his on your door in ungodly hours of the morning.

"Tangerine?" You offered.

The door slid open, and your eyes swam over him -taking in his wounds that you had before like in confirmation. He really wasn't hurt bad, not like other times.

Turns out, you didn't care and still wanted to help.

He was leaning against the counter fidgeting with his hands -you think there was blood on his rings. You spoke before you could think about it.

"You want me to wash those?"

He quirked an eyebrow, "What?"

“Your rings,” you clarified, mentally cursing yourself, “-or… do you need help with your wounds?”

He seems to think about it for a moment, eyes dashing across his knuckles -his rings, really. You only watched him for a few moments, half convinced you had dreamt this all up, that maybe he didn’t even exist. Maybe he was a figment of your imagination, he was certainly handsome enough. And his name was Tangerine. This could definitely all be a dream.

“Think I can do the rings myself, love,” he laughed a little -you still weren’t used to that sound, “-and the wounds aren’t ‘at bad.”

You looked at him for a moment, peering along the busted lip and the slice on his collarbone, “You sure? It’s kind of all I do, is it not?”

He smiled, mustache quirking up, “If it makes you feel better, you can clean the cut. But really, love, I’m fine.”

You pursed your lips, taking in his breaths that swirled with yours -the bathroom was small, “I’ll just get you some ice for your knuckles. But if you die from infection, it’s not on me.”

He really laughed at the one, as you spun on your feet back to the kitchen -digging out some other frozen food you hadn’t gotten around to eating yet. With a solid motion, you extended it forward (it was maybe tater tots?), offering it to Tangerine.

“Sorry it’s not the peas,” you spoke, pointing to Lemon -who at the time seemed to be half asleep on the couch, “-your brother stole those.”

“The fuckin’ twat,” he hissed out, a little too personally -you thought it was probably about something far bigger than your frozen peas. He could definitely be that petty though. So, it was possible.

"Woah, somebody's pissy today. Bad day?"

Tangerine seemed to pause, eyes swimming over you -like he was committing you to memory, you briefly wondered why.

"Yeah," he said, solidly -not elaborating. You knew better than to expect him to.

"Well," you spoke, a little awkwardly -not sure where to go, "-I've got... icecream?"

He looked at you like you were insane, but then again, when wasn't he? You said a lot of things without a filter in front of him. Handsome men, what could you say?

"Like..." you clarified, clearing your throat, "-to eat."

"Yeah, love, I fuckin' got 'at part. Why the hell would I want icecream?"

There it was. Tangerine in his true form.

You opened your mouth to respond, but someone else cut you to the chase.

"Sorry," Lemon perked up, "-did you say icecream? Because 'at would be really lovely with this movie, a great pair-"

"Yeah," you turned to him -his presence was a lot warmer (why was his name Lemon?), "-I've only got one flavor, but..."

"Fine with me," Lemon responded, with a big smile, "-brother, are you gettin' any?"

Tangerine huffed out of his nose, genuinely frustrated apparently -much different than a moment ago. What was he even angry about? There was nothing-

"No," he spoke through a snarl.

"Ouch," Lemon put his hands on his heart, replying flatly, "-really hurts, mate. Not used to your shitty behavior at all."

You decidedly left the room (not really it was all open concept), waltzing toward your kitchen with a focus in mind. As you were digging around, trying to find the pint you'd hidden from yourself, you were interrupted.

"Do you..." you turned at his voice, Tangerine, he didn't look very certain of his words, "-Do you need any help, love?"

"Help?" You questioned, raising an eyebrow, "-With icecream?"

"Well," he was suddenly very grumpy -probably embarrassed, "-you help me all the fuckin' time, so I just thought- Excuse me for fuckin' offering."

"You..." you started, standing and now facing him, "-You were going to repay me for saving your life, by helping me with icecream?"

"'S hardly saving my life," he grumbled, under his breath -you still heard it.

"You had a knife-" you motioned harshly to stress the word, "-in your shoulder the first time we met."

"Not deadly," he retorted, a bit pompous.

You rolled your eyes, "Look, give me the benefit of the doubt-"

Tangerine quickly said -almost on instinct, "I certainly will fuckin' not."

"-let's call it even," you continued, ignoring his remark, "-I save your life, you save mine."

"That's..." he started, "-That's makin' it even?"

"Well, yeah," you tilted your head, "-a life for a life."

He furrowed his eyebrows, you took it as him not understanding.

"Let's say that I'm getting chased down an alley," you clarified, before interjecting, "-Ooh wait, or maybe I'm getting robbed-"

"Are you fuckin' excited at the idea of gettin' robbed, love?"

"No," you quickly mended, "-it's just a better story. Plus, that's not relevant-"

His lips quirked up into a little smile.

"-What I'm saying is," you started, "-If I'm in trouble, you have to save me. To make it even."

"And how am I supposed to know when you're in trouble, then?"

You paused, pursing your lips -good point, "Uh, I don't know. Do you guys have like a bat signal? Like I hold up a fruit stand sign to the light-"

"Very funny," Tangerine interrupted -flatly, "-Look, just take my phone number, yeah? If you're ever in trouble, you can ring me like a fuckin' normal person."

"You're one to talk," you responded, before furrowing your eyebrows, "-Wait, you guys have phones?"

"Yeah," Tangerine stressed, "-who do you think we are?"

"Well, I don't know," you explained, "-don't phones have trackers? Won't that out you guys? When you're on... jobs?"

"Burners," Lemon quickly clarified, "-well, kind of. 'S on a secret network, basically."

"So," you started, processing, "-you want to give me your secret phone number?"

Tangerine hummed, realizing but seeming to settle, "Well, it's not like you've given me a reason to not trust you, love. Should I not?"

"True," you responded, "-I have not snitched on you. Even with... all the blood, and the knife, and the job you won't talk about-"

"We get it, love," he groaned out, "-just give me your fuckin' phone, yeah?"

You without hesitation gave it to him, he seemed to quickly put your phone number in his, and then his in yours -handing it back to you open on the contact. With a smile, you made his name the tangerine emoji.

"You put me as the damn emoji, didn't you?"

"Oh, yeah," you laughed out, pocketing your phone in one fellow swoop.

You ended up seeing them both a few more times after that with varying injuries. (Once Lemon had a broken nose, and Tangerine had a broken finger. No more knives, thankfully.)

They were starting to be familiar to you -friends even. Despite not telling you about their job, you had gotten to know them well; you hate to brag but you were pretty good at settling their arguments. It made you integral to their dynamic.

You probably should've known one day you helping them stay alive would come back and bite you in the ass.

See, if you were asked, you'd probably assume they had many enemies. They were, at least, fighting people on a daily basis -you don't do that if your job is a positive one. And fighting people, almost regularly, is a surefire way of saying 'somebody hates me'. They probably had an enemy in every other city, if you were realistic.

You don't know why you hadn't thought of that.

That day, it was just a normal one. You worked until the sun went down, and then went home. Or you were supposed to.

Your shift at work was long and exhausting and you kind of wished your bed was right in front of you -so, to be honest, you weren't in your most aware state. It was always dangerous walking the streets tired, you knew this, so you usually had someone walk home with you. This night, in particular, was a lone shift (hell on earth) with a manager you didn't like, so you didn't ask.

And maybe that was stupid of you, but you doubted they would say yes.

Your feet pattered along the sidewalk, street lamps fading in and out of your view. Every few steps it'd get dark and then light again; to be honest, you were too tired to feel scared when it was dark.

And then, right as you stepped into the light, you heard the screech of car breaks (which you were kind of used to) and then suddenly there were hands all over you. Gloved hands, black-gloved hands.

Before you could say a word, you were thrown into the back of a van -no seats by the way, and enveloped in darkness.

It took you a minute to adjust, head spinning and hands shaking against the cold metal underneath you. It kind of felt like when you met Tangerine for the first time, like you weren't really there. Like you were experiencing something so bizarre, it couldn't be real-

Shit, you thought to yourself, Tangerine.

You patted yourself, ruffling over your pockets -trying to find your phone. It was dark and you couldn't even see. You guessed that was why, your phone went clattering onto the metal, away from your hand -loud.

There was something in you that hoped that these guys were stupid. That they'd look over the noise and ignore you until they took you wherever the hell they were taking you.

You weren't that lucky.

The van was distinctly pulled over, tires even scraping along the bumpy texture. And within minutes, the door to the van was flung open.

They were just a shadowy figure, light framing them so you couldn't see any of his features at all. He was just a shadow. You didn't know if that made him any scarier.

"What the hell are you doing back here?" His voice was low and gruff -like a smoker.

"I didn't-" you started, trying to avoid your phone -it was shadowed in the dark. You doubted he could see it-

And then his eyes flicked directly to it.

You literally could not have had a worse day.

Instead of reaching for it, he eyed for you to instead. And for a second, you thought he might've been trying to help you. That was wrong.

With your phone in your hand, the man promptly put a gun to your head. From a distance, yeah, but still trained directly into the center of your forehead. Was he going to kill you? Just like that?

This was suddenly very real, you swallowed back tears and nearly dropped your phone -trying to raise your hands up.

"Please," you begged, slowly and shaky but clear enough for them to hear.

"Shut up," he hissed out, "-listen. Take your phone, and call 'em."

"C-Call who?"

"Don't play dumb with me," the man echoed out, and you heard the click of the trigger pulling back -dear god, "-we know you're close to the twins, we've been watchin' your place for months."

"Okay, okay-" you breathed out, it felt like your lungs were full like you were suffocating-

Tears burned at the backs of your eyes, as your fingers, shaking, scrolled around the contacts app -he hadn't texted you or anything so all you had was his contact. Only for emergencies, he'd said.

You almost wanted to scare him once, but the idea felt so very stupid now.

Clicking call, the man nudged your hand, speaking lowly, "Put it on fucking speaker, now."

You dutifully did so, even if it took a few tries to hit the button -your hands were shaking enough to blur the screen. Your head was spinning, and the only thing your could feel was the cold metal beneath your legs.

Why did you ever think this was a good idea? To get caught up with... with bloody men who had a mysterious job?

You were moving back home if you made it out alive -the city wasn't worth this.

"'Ello?" His voice was spent, and you could hear the raggedy breaths puffing out of his chest -somehow hearing his voice calmed you just a second.

The man nudged you again, so you spoke, "Tangerine?"

He must have not been paying attention, because your shaky whisper -wet from your tears, you were crying, went relatively unnoticed.

"Little busy at the mo-" you heard a solid hit and what sounded like a crack, "-ment, you sure this is important, love?"

The man kept his eyes laser-focused on you, you took it as a sign to keep talking.

"T-Tangerine," you repeated, more inflection -the shake in your voice unavoidable.

The noise on the phone, suddenly got very quiet -you heard him mumble something to Lemon 'you got 'im?' before seeming to pull his full attention to you, "Everything okay, love? You sound... Is somethin' wrong?"

The man looked at you, expectantly. You took it as to tell him what was happening, clenching your nails into your skin -it might bleed. The pain was distracting, even just for a moment.

"I-I'm," you tried, but your voice cracked, and your breath turned into a sob, "T-There's a man, he has a gun to my head, I don't- I don't know why-"

"Jesus fuckin' Christ," Tangerine spit out, something fierce in his voice, "Lemon-"

The man snatched the phone from your hand, voice low and in a growl, "Seems I got something you want, Tangerine. It's only fair."

"Who the hell are you?"

"Doesn't matter," the man deflected, "-all that matters is that I have your little nurse, and you have no idea where we are."

The van, suddenly without warning, started up again -swinging back onto the road. You braced yourself against the wall, mindlessly blinking -this isn't real, this isn't real, this isn't real.

You could hear the pounding of his footsteps -rushed, like he was trying to get somewhere, "If you lay a hand on 'em, I will fuckin' rip you apart, piece by excruciating piece. Slow and fuckin' steady, for hours-"

"You say that as if you know where we are," the man responded, "-as if you have a chance of finding them in time."

In time? your brain chimed, and everything felt so far away now.

"I swear to fuckin' god-" he spit out, venomous, "-if you hurt 'em-"

"Yeah, yeah," the man retorted -confidence in his tone, "-I got that part, fruit."

You breathed out, swallowing back tears, and wiping your eyes so hard that you were seeing spots; maybe this was all a dream, maybe you had just fallen asleep at work-

"Hate to do this to you," the man echoed out, "-but we have to go. Let's hope we see each other later, for your sake."

Tangerine nearly yelled through the phone, but that didn't stop him from hanging up.

At the next stop, the man moved back to the front -taking your phone with him. You sat alone, in the back of a van, in complete darkness.

Would this be the last thing you ever see? Really?

It was just like you were in the city, so incredibly alone. At least you had a chance then, to remedy it. Now... Now you weren't even sure you'd be breathing in a few hours.

"Oh god," you breathed out a big exhale, a sob bubbling up your throat -you had so much left to do, "-oh god."

The van didn't stop for what felt like forever, bumpy roads and quick turns -they were speeding the whole time, and you had no idea how they weren't pulled over. But maybe it was because of the hour, it was fairly late.

The door swung open before you could think about anything else, two men rushing in and grabbing you by the shoulders -dragging you out.

"If you scream," you felt cold metal to your neck, "-you're dead."

"Aren't you going to kill me anyways?"

"Only if your friends," the other man retorted, "-don't behave."

They tied something around your eyes, leaving you completely in the dark -gloved hands squeezing your shoulders so tight, they were definitely going to bruise. Three sets of feet pattered along what sounded like concrete, as your mind went numb -the cold, bitter air filtering over your skin.

It was echoing now, after you heard the swing of some heavy doors opening -must have been a big place. Your mind was reeling, you felt like you weren't even really there.

Then, without a word, they threw you forward directly into a brick wall -seemingly latching a door behind you. Your head spun for a moment as you tried to reorient yourself -blindfold still on, as you pulled it off you felt a stickiness on your forehead.

Pulling your hand in front of your face, you realized it was blood. How hard did you hit your head?

Your fingers flitted across it again, and you hissed. Apparently very hard.

You tried to look at your hands, see how much blood, but it was all shadowed -the darkness didn't change much from what you saw in the blindfold.

Hands shaking, you leaned yourself against the wall -tears steadily making their way down your cheeks. You could cry now, freely, as you finally were brought back down to your body.

This was really happening. You were in some dingy old room, and there were men outside who wanted to kill you to get at someone else. You were expendable, a pawn.

Any moment, any feeling, and they could just kill you. You'd die here, and nobody would know what happened to you.

You'd be one of those news stories you couldn't believe.

The brick scratched against your head, but it was kind of numbed by your headache -pounding where you knew the split of skin to be. Or where you could've guessed it was anyway.

That couldn't mean anything good.

Your breaths were starting to hollow out, low and slow, your body coming back to the cold concrete floors. You were grappling with your helplessness, what the hell would you do? What could you do?

You were... you couldn't do anything. You were done. This was it, all that work for... for you to die in some dingy old room alone.

And then, you thought of something you hadn't thought to. Something you'd never let your mind dig into, not really, because at the time it seemed stupid.

Tangerine.

You'd always known there was something there, something bubbling under your skin. Even with everything, you still... there was something.

Something warm in your chest at the idea that he came to see you. That it wasn't just for the help anymore. And he was handsome, and he promised to save you and his eyes and his arms and his hands-

Before you could think about it for too long, something interrupted you.

Boom.

It made your ears sting, the noise bouncing along the walls -you flinched where you sat. Breath sudden in a gasp, you stilled. Almost like as if someone could see you, like you were hiding.

There was some shuffling outside, someone messing with the latch on the door -they were struggling. Maybe because their hands were shaking? They were trying to get in-

And then, right outside the door was an even louder-

Boom.

It makes your head sting, squeezing your eyes shut so hard that you see spots. You swallowed, trying to calm the pounding in your head, rubbing at your temples.

Gunshots, you recognized, suddenly, they were gunshots.

Your heart stuttered in your chest, they were right outside the door. With a gun. With a gun-

Before you could think of anything to say, the rattling at the door started again -the scratch of metal against metal. It sounded more frantic now, somehow, and your whole body froze. Maybe if you didn't move they wouldn't hear you?

The door swung open, light pouring in that made your eyes sting. The door pounding against the wall -loud and opposing.

Squeezing your eyes shut, you held your breath, staying completely still -hoping the shadow hid you against the walls. One hand covering your face, waiting until a figure steps into the room.

And when one did, cast in shadow, you sat very still. Watching their head twist around the room, back and forth -looking, searching.

You bit back a sob, let me live, let me live.

Then, they spoke.

"Love? Are you in 'ere?" He echoed out, "-Or was that fuckin' twat lyin'-"

"Tangerine," spilled out of your mouth as you rushed forward -wrapping your arms around him in a huff, "-holy shit, Tangerine-"

He stood frozen for a second, unfamiliar with the affection, you assumed. You inhaled a shaky breath in, the whiff of his cologne keeping you stable, there. You were safe-

His arms slowly met around you, unsure, but settling comfortably. Holding you for a second, just a second.

"Are you alright, love?" He pushed back a little bit -blue eyes scanning over you, "-Did he fuckin' lay a hand on you?"

"No, just-" you breathed out, pushing through the pain, "-he slammed me against the wall, I hit my head pretty hard, but that's-"

"Your head?" He asked, grabbing your wrist and pulling you into the light, "-Come out 'ere, love, so I can see."

"It's not really-"

Tangerine let out a big sigh, turning back to you, "Let me help you, yeah?"

You pursed your lips, eyeing him for a moment -he was relatively unscathed, just a blood stain on his shirt and maybe some busted-up knuckles. His hair was still in place and his suit jacket uncreased, he felt composed -sturdy. Stable, really.

"Okay," you whispered out, letting him guide you out the door -you hissed at the little light you did see, almost instinctively squeezing your eyes shut.

"Sorry, love," he spoke, soft and gentle, "-can't control the sun for you."

"You could block it," you remarked, "-god made your shoulders insanely broad for a reason."

He laughed, moving in his place so less light shone on you -hands moving to hold your face (tilting the wound into the light), "You think my shoulders are broad, then?"

"Duh," you responded, something in your head woozy -you stumbled a little in place.

"Shit," he reacted, hands smoothing to your shoulders, holding you up, "-Can you 'ear me? Stay fuckin' awake, yeah?"

"Okay," you blinked heavily, trying to see him clearly.

When you did, he stood there eyes desperately searching yours -looking at you, concerned. They scattered all over you, settling on the split on your head for a bit too long -it was still pounding in your head, made you flinch a little.

"Do you think-" you started, "-Do you think I need a hospital?"

"No," Tangerine breathed out, fingers dusting along your wound, "-just need someone to watch ya overnight. And to clean you up a bit."

"Wouldn't..." you echoed, "-Wouldn't a hospital do that?"

Tangerine met your eyes, his lips quirking into a smile (just barely), "You think you're fuckin' funny, yeah?"

"I'm just making a point," you deflected.

"Just-" he sighed out, before connecting your eyes again, "-let me help you. I want to, yeah? I really fuckin' want to."

"Okay," you echoed out, relaxing into his touch -relaxing finally, "-fine."

"Good," he tsked, and without hesitation wrapped his fingers around your wrist, "-now, let's get out of 'ere, shall we?"

You did so, eyes squeezed shut tight because all the light did was hurt. But Tangerine soothed you, hand still on your wrist, ("Close your eyes if it hurts, love, I've got you.") and guided you along, even sitting you down in the car and pulling the seat belt along your body.

"You know I could do that myself, right?" You spoke, eyes squinted open -the car was much darker.

He didn't dignify you with a response, sliding into your side and shutting the door behind himself. He silently settled into the seat beside you, like the passenger seat was taken. Which it decidedly was not.

His blue eyes kept darting to you, and you could feel his leg pressed against yours.

"You know that I'm fine, Tangerine," you exhaled, looking to him, "-don't you?"

He didn't respond, so you continued.

"You looked at my wound, I'm alright-" you laughed a little, "-I can sit in the backseat by myself."

Tangerine seemed to think for a second, before speaking decidedly, "If you go to fuckin' sleep, love, you won't wake up. I'm 'ere to keep you awake."

You could feel his breath fan over your face, and you swallowed. You could hear your heartbeat pounding in your ears, as your eyes stayed on his (blue, blue-). With another intake of breath, you snapped them away -eagerly looking out the window.

Well, you thought to yourself, you're doing a really good job, Tangerine.

The city blurred by, as it made way to more familiar silhouettes but not... not yours. Not ones near your home.

"Um," you spoke, particularly to Lemon (who was driving) "-are we not going... home?"

"You serious, love?" Tangerine offered, blue eyes decidedly matching yours.

"Are we not-"

Lemon interrupted -catching your eye in the mirror, "You were kidnapped, mate. Do you not remember 'at?"

"No, I do," you huffed out, eyes dashing between the two of them, "-they didn't get me at home though, they got me off the street."

"Doesn't mean anythin'," Tangerine countered, jaw twitching ever so slightly -he really didn't like talking about them, "-'Ey 'ave eyes on your home, 's how they made the connection to us."

"Tangerine-"

"He's got a point," Lemon responded, fingers tapping along the wheel, "-takes too much effort to prove 'im wrong, trust me."

"Lemon-"

"Why do you even want to go home, love?" Tangerine interrupted, eyebrows furrowed -genuine curiosity.

"Because it's my home," you reiterated, "-it's familiar. I know you guys may have forgotten the feeling, but it... it would make me feel a lot better to be home."

Tangerine sighed, a deep heavy sigh, "How about a compromise?"

You pursed your lips, eyes flickering across his face (god, was he pretty), "I'm listening."

"We stay at the hotel a few nights until they cool off," he offered, "-and then, you can go home."

You sighed out in relief.

"But," Tangerine clarified, "-me and Lemon need to stay with you for a while. There's not a fuckin' chance you're goin' alone after this. Especially so soon."

"What so-" you started, "-you guys are going to constantly be around me? I have work, and I... I need to get groceries-"

"We 'ave to be, love," Tangerine spoke in almost a whisper, soft, "-these people, they're not goin' to be as fuckin' nice next time. Lemon and I know 'at."

Right, you thought to yourself, mysterious jobs. They've probably done something like this before.

You involuntary shuddered, thinking about the darkness and the gun and your life-

Tangerine looked at you, eyes darting around your face -a slosh of concern sliding over his features, flickering in his eyes. It was no wonder those thoughts had come to the forefront of your mind, he was so protective of you. There's only so much you can resist feelings for someone who so very much values your life.

A handsome someone, your mind tsked.

Before he could open his mouth though, you turned your head back to the window. A familiar swirl bubbled into your stomach, you couldn't chance looking at him. Afterall, getting flustered with him was surely a dead giveaway and there was no way in hell Tangerine felt anything remotely the same.

And that was plain embarrassing.

You felt suddenly like you were in school again, and were crushing on a jock -that never even looked your way. It felt pretty hopeless, and even though it did, it didn't stop you from going to every game -just to pretend for a little while.

Was that what patching him up was? Your own sort of way to be close to him, to pretend for a moment that everything was different.

Shit, you thought, that is embarrassing.

Luckily, you severely doubted Tangerine would ever know. You were pretty good at keeping secrets. Hence, well, the whole reason you were even here in the first place -you regularly housed assassins.

It took only a few minutes after that (feeling blue eyes boring into your side the whole time) when Lemon pulled into a parking spot and you arrived at the hotel. Lucky for you, it was far from a dingy old place on the side of the road.

This place was way above your paygrade. You had never even dreamed of living such a luxury; all golden accents and marble floors. You hardly even knew this place existed in your city.

"I take it back," you whispered to Tangerine, as Lemon strode up to the front desk to request a room change, "-we can stay here forever."

You saw the woman point to you, clearly in concern and you suddenly remembered the wound on your head. Your fingers smoothed along it, and you grimaced, Lemon seemed to come up with some sort of explanation, though. And she promptly looked away.

Tangerine laughed at your words, a quiet little chuckle, and fell rather silent. You peered over at him, wondering why he hadn't said anything back; and when you did, he seemed to be stealing little looks at you -silently fidgeting with his rings.

You pursed your lips in thought for a moment, debating asking him about it.

Before you could, he opened his mouth to say something -eyes lingering on your face, like he was trying to memorize it (something in your chest fluttered), "Love, I-"

"Sorry, mates," Lemon interrupted, eyes dashing between the two of you for a moment, "-rooms are booked tonight. Lady says we can try again tomorrow but she doubts it'll 'ave changed."

"So," you swallowed, "-just two bedrooms?"

"Yep," Lemon popped the p, "-and hate to say it, but I'm gettin' one by myself. You lot can figure the rest of 'at out yourselves."

Something was gleaming there in his eye -something mischievous; you frowned -heartbeat stuttering in your chest.

Maybe there's a couch, your mind chimed -a little patheticly.

As fate would have it, there was. And an entire kitchen and living space -an expensive kitchen and living space. You were truly floored by this place.

"This is a hotel, right?" you questioned, eyes lingering on the high ceilings (you decidedly did not have those).

"For rich blokes," Lemon clarified, "-the kinds 'at hate to 'ave anythin' besides luxury."

You spun around, eyes darting between the two of them, "Like you two?"

Tangerine frowned, and Lemon snorted -disappearing off into the kitchen; leaving just you and Tangerine alone in the living space. That being said, each room was actually divided, with no open concept -just archways.

You slung yourself onto the couch, inelegantly (but when were you ever elegant) and were pleased to find it felt like clouds, "Why, if you could pay for this, did you ever come to my apartment? They probably have an on-staff nurse you could page, good god-"

"Eh," Tangerine mended, voice calm and confident, "-like the company better 'ere."

You smiled to yourself, small and quiet, heart fluttering in your chest. You are not making this easy, fruit man.

You cleared your throat, about to shift the subject because you frankly could not address the fondness in his eyes. Instead, Lemon came to your rescue with a smile.

"Well," he spoke, "-I'm fuckin' exhausted, I'm off to bed. If you need anythin', ask Tangerine."

And then, with that, he left -disappearing behind one of the doors down into the hallway.

"You can't sleep," Tangerine said suddenly, "-your head... We've got to get you to a doctor in the mornin', so they can look at it."

"Why not tonight?"

"I truly fuckin' doubt anyone of credit would be open this late," he explained, sauntering up to your side and sitting down (when he had the whole couch).

"Tangerine," you spoke, "-the emergency room doesn't just... close."

"I just," he sighed out, leaning back into the couch "-I want you safe for tonight, yeah?"

"I doubt they'd show up to a hospital," you reasoned, weighing your words.

Tangerine frowned.

"Look, I just-" you paused, "-you don't have to be on watch duty. You need sleep. Just take me to the ER, and I'll-"

He scoffed, repeating, "There's no fuckin' way you're going alone, love."

Swiping the keys off one of the tables near the door and shooting Lemon a text, he grabbed your hand and guided you outside.

The night was a surprisingly quick one, as you were taken into the ER and looked at. They quickly bandaged and stitched your wound, even sending you in to get your brain looked at. Tangerine was dutifully by your side, all night, even when they told you they'd rather keep an eye on you tonight. Something along the lines of what Tangerine said, keeping you awake.

He did, however, end up getting some sleep -slouched over in a hospital chair. One of those plastic ones that really could not be comfortable, and you knew his back would ache in the morning. But when you asked him to, he straight refused to leave ("No fuckin' way, love"); so, you were sort of glad he had gotten some sleep after all.

Then, the next morning, they set you on your way. Quickly reminding your husband (it was the only way Tangerine could stay overnight) of all the bandage changes and consistent eye he should keep on you; he seemed rather serious when listening -eyes intent, and almost as if he could, he would take out a notepad and write each thing down extensively.

You were touched, something in your chest swirling widely.

Was this how he felt when you took care of him?

Well, you sort of doubted so, because they were different circumstances. Despite the closeness and the fingertips on the skin, it was less protective and more domestic. Something very different in the closeness there, and the presence of him now.

Even now, as you leaned onto the couch, scrolling through channels -you felt his eyes solidly on you.

"Tangerine," you tsked, bandage smoothed across your head, "-I'm fine."

He blinked, as your eyes swam over his face and a pink dusted along his cheeks, "That's not what I- I was just... just lookin', love."

You furrowed your eyebrows, curious, tilting your head, "Why?"

Tangerine paused, blue eyes bubbling along your skin -like he was considering his answer, or maybe deciding on one. You thought for a second that he wasn't going to say anything -wordless, as always.

"Need to change your bandage," he deflected, getting up, grabbing some supplies, and roaming over to you on the couch.

You groaned, leaning your head back against the cushions -so soft and cloudlike that you almost couldn't stay frustrated, "We just did that."

"'At was yesterday, love," Tangerine hummed, smiling ever-so-slightly, "-the doctors said-"

"The doctors said," you mocked his accent, shaking your head with the words, "-spare me the speech this time, Tan."

He smirked, face so close to yours now (peeling the old one off, rough fingertips dusting along your forehead), "Fuckin' argumentative today, yeah?"

You swallowed, eyes darting between his -back and forth, responding shortly, "Maybe."

Tangerine furrowed his eyebrows at the quickness of your response, dabbing at the wound quickly -cleaning it. He was gentle, with tiny little movements; it was hard to imagine these were the same hands that hurt others. He was so soft with your wound, why-

"You alright, love?"

He was a breath away, blue eyes (upon finishing the bandaging) matching yours, intensely. Tangerine just had an intense stare, like you simply held the world in your hands. It was like he didn't blink, even though you knew he did.

You swallowed, for a moment, eyes dashing along his face -it really was totally unfair. Your cheeks grew a little hot at the closeness, you saw his eyes dart to it -eyebrows furrowing together.

Good god, it really was like high-school again.

"What, yeah-" you laughed, awkwardly -eyes darting away from him, "-why would I not be?"

Tangerine hummed in thought for a second, and you could nearly hear the gears in his head turning, "Love... you're actin' really fuckin' odd right now."

You fidgeted with your fingers, watching them in your lap -you couldn't think straight right now. This was all new in your brain, and when was the last time you had feelings for someone-

"I'm not," you answered, finally -a bit like a toddler who was getting in trouble but the meaning all the same.

He sighed out a breath, seeming to settle on something and you could almost feel his eyeroll.

And without another second, you felt his fingers on your chin. Rough fingertips brushed against it, as he tilted you back to face him.

You blinked.

His blue eyes flickered along your face, slow and tedious, "You know you're safe with me, yeah?"

"Tangerine," you exhaled.

"I'd-" he started, eyes dipping away before coming back to yours -so genuine, "-I'd save you without the deal, you know 'at? Anytime, anywhere-"

"Tangerine, that's not-" you faltered, he was so broken open, vulnerable, to you right now. Something in your chest heavy, and your heart ready to spill on your tongue.

"I'd shoot 'im over and over again if it made ya feel safe, love," he continued, fingertip brushing along your skin like he was cradling your face, "-I'm sorry I ever let 'im put a fuckin' hand on you, you 'ave to know 'at."

"Tangerine," you sighed out, soft, "-That's not your fault."

"It is."

"Tangerine-"

"You're afraid now, aren't you?" He echoed out, a soft sort of whisper but filled with intent, "-How does 'at not mean I'm responsible? I never should've-"

"Tangerine!" You exclaimed, resorting to using your hands to cup his face -bringing him back down to earth, "-I'm not... afraid."

He paused.

"Well, yeah, I am, but it's not-" you tsked, before sighing, "-I know you'll keep me safe. I don't know how I know, I just... do."

He furrowed his eyebrows, "Then why-"

And then, as normal, your brain stopped functioning, words coming out before you could think them over, "You're very pretty."

He opened his mouth, a smirk smoothing onto his lips. You didn't let him continue.

"And I'm not immune to a pretty man caring about my well-being," you clarified, swallowing -somehow maintaining eye contact, "-I'm not... good at handling it."

"You're..." he started, a quirk of a smile on his lips (not that you were looking), "You're fuckin' flustered, love?"

"Mortifyingly embarrassed," you corrected, your voice squeaked out.

Tangerine laughed a little, "Ya sure you didn't hit your head too hard?"

"Ha ha, laugh it up, mustache," you responded, rolling your eyes -much more comfortable. The banter was easy.

"Well," he tsked, and you were suddenly very aware of how close his face is to yours, "-you apparently fuckin' like it, love. What's 'at say about you?"

You swallowed, "Didn't say it doesn't suit you."

"Hmm," he hummed, and there was a flicker of something in his eye -mischievous, "-guess not."

"Nope," you popped the p -awkwardly. Your eyes darting between his frantically, you felt something building in the air a moment -heavy as your eyes sat on his, and his on yours.

It was almost as if, a look, one glance held your entire being in the balance.

"I think you're quite pretty too, ya know," he echoed out, low and gravelly -you could feel his breaths scattered across your face. He was suddenly very close to you again, the fuzziness that banter provided snatched away.

Something twisted in the bottom of your stomach, as you opened your mouth -letting out a very quiet, "Thank you."

He seemed to take those words, just absorb them in the heavy silence that had bestowed upon the room. There was a part of you that wished Lemon was still here, that he could pull you apart but he left early that morning. And now, here you were, and all you could think about was his lips and that stupid fucking mustache-

You blinked, clearing the fog, and clearing your throat -backing up and standing to your feet.

Tangerine slowly came to the realization, the haze drifting out of his eyes, as they came to default onto yours -still intense but not as close. You could handle this.

"Anyway," you bit your lip, "-I'm kind of starved, do you... want anything?"

"Do I fuckin' want anythin'," he mumbled to himself for a moment -hands carefully putting the old bandage on the table and arranging all of the supplies so they wouldn't fall off.

And with a slow measured breath, he rose to his feet -steps teetering closer to you. His hands found solace in his hair as he rifled it up a bit, and on the cuff of his shirt -you saw a little blood. Was that from you? From your bandage-

"I've got somethin' in mind," he finally said, a little distant from you, but nothing like before (maybe just a few steps away from the closeness of the couch).

"Yeah, um," you cleared your throat, but it still felt dry, "-what do you... want? I think we've got like some... fancy tortilla chips and salsa, which... is a good one, or-"

He laughed a deep sort of low chuckle, erasing those steps you talked about before. You swallowed, words trailing off; there was a little spark in his eye when he noticed that you had -pride.

"You are really un-fuckin'-believable, you know 'at, love?"

"I think you've told me before."

He laughed at that, shaking his head, and you felt the breaths of each one scattered along your face -brushing onto your lips. You snapped your mouth closed at the thought.

Deep breaths, you thought to yourself, deep, deep breaths. You can do this.

Tangerine grew rather silent, before words seemed to bubble out of him without thinking, "You."

"What?"

"I want you, love," he clarified, "-in particular, I'd really love to fuckin' kiss ya right now, is 'at alright?"

"I didn't think you were the type to ask," you quipped, before you could really think about it, again.

He furrowed his eyebrows, a bit in defense.

"No, I mean-" you scrambled for a minute, "-you feel like the kinda guy that does it-"

"It?"

"-in like an emotional rush. You know? Like no words, just... just..."

Tangerine sighed, but you could see the quirk of a smile on his lips -you hadn't scared him off yet apparently.

"Sorry," you squeaked out, and you definitely saw a smile smooth across his lips.

"I'm fuckin' askin' ya, love. Say yes or no, yeah?"

"Yes," it came out in a rush of breath, a little like it clawed up your throat with desperation, "-yes."

Tangerine didn't hesitate a second longer, pushing forward with a force unmatched -big hands coming to cup your face at the hinge of your jaw. It was desperate, almost like he'd been waiting to do this awhile and the idea of that, made your breath catch.

You briefly wondered when it started, before he pushed into you further -hands righting themselves just below your ears on the back of your neck. He made you bump into the wall behind you. Tangerine promptly swallowed your squeak at the sensation, as easy as breathing.

Of course he was good at kissing too, your mind chimed, so unfair.

And then a more coy voice spoke up, but hey, he does want to kiss you though, I'd count that as a win.

Yeah, you decided as his mustache scratched ever so slightly at your upper lip and his hands dropped to your waist, definitely a win.

He pulled back a moment, breaths ragged and slow -eyes darting over yours, "Was good, yeah?"

You decidedly didn't answer him, pushing forward to kiss him again -this time a little slower, less rushed. He was just as slow, fingers holding your waist just slightly tighter like he didn't want you to leave.

Why the hell would I leave?

Tangerine was the one to part that time too, eyes slow to open like the kiss had affected him just as much. Your heart beat a little faster at that.

"Take that as a yes, yeah?"

"Oh, definitely," you laughed, hands coming to rest between his chest and shoulders.

He's strong too, your mind unwillingly retorted.

He didn't move, like he was simply absorbing your breaths and to be fair, you were pretty sure you were doing the same. He was nearly panting after all.

Words slipped out before you could stop them, "When I told you to borrow sugar, this was not what I was expecting."

Tangerine paused for a moment, gears working. Before his face flickered into something of annoyance, frown so prominent.

"Good god, fuckin' shut up, love."

"Make me," you offered, laughing.

And he certainly did.

#tangerine bullet train #tangerine x reader #bullet train #tangerine x y/n #tangerine x you #tan's things #borrow some sugar

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