#borrower!reader
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chapter 2: safe?
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stranger things g/t
a/n: very short read, but it’s my halloween treat!! let me know if you’d like me to create a tag list for this.
borrower!reader x steve harrington
Trembling in the hand of a giant, you looked him in the eyes. You can’t even fathom the idea of squirming in his delicate grip. You were just stuck in this moment of relief and fear. You didn’t want to fall off that ledge, but you couldn’t handle this. Everything you’d ever been taught had never prepared you for this, because usually this was when it was all over.
“Hey, hey it’s okay. You’re gonna be okay,” Steve said softly, snapping you back to reality. You breathed out shakily and pulled your nails away from his pointer finger.
“I’m not going to hurt you, okay? I promise.”
Your brows pinched together and your eyes started to water. Your lips pressed into a thin line as hot tears fell down your face. You hated feeling like this, you hated feeling how small you were.
“Why is she crying?” Dustin asked beside Steve.
“I don’t know,” Steve turned to him, “maybe because you’ve held her hostage and treated her like a pet,” he whispered harshly.
“Is she okay?” Robin voiced as you softly cried.
“I- I don’t know,” Steve said and took in a sharp breath. He pulled you to his blue-shirted chest and you went rigid. You were still cupped in his hand and pressed against him. His heart was hammering faster than yours at this point. The other voices started to fade, and he kept muttering to you. Things like, “I’m sorry”, “he’s a dumb kid”, and “I’m going to help.”
The one thing you remember before it all went dark was him saying, “You’re safe.”
…
You shivered and opened your heavy-lidded eyes. You yawned and stretched within the comfort of a soft material. It was so dark you couldn't tell what it was exactly but you wanted to fall back asleep in it. You were about to but then your eyes went wide.
You looked around you, almost snapping your neck out of place. You saw the giant’s face squished against a pillow. His hair was messy, his eyes closed, and his breath tickled your face. You were mere inches away and when you looked behind you, you didn’t know what to think. His arm was wrapped around the soft material. His fingers were still gripping the edges of it, and it perplexed you.
“What do you want with me?” your voice rasped in the darkness. Your eyes trailed to him and he didn’t answer. You hissed as you sat up, feeling out your ribs. Some still were tender and loose. You gasped when you looked at your busted leg. It no longer had a beaten-up bandaid, but a gauze. The gauze started at your ankle to right under your knee. It felt much more comfortable on your skin, and you saw little sticks poking out of the ends. You gently turned the leg back and forth. You let out a sigh of relief with tears in your eyes.
Beside you, Steve shifted and you slowly turned to him. His chin was lying on his forearm as he you watched with half-lidded eyes.
“I hope the bandage helps,” his voice was gruff, “hopefully it’ll heal straightened out now.”
You kept your mouth shut and watched him. He yawned and you noticed his other arm was still around you.
“Sorry about Dustin again,” he muttered.
“He’s just a kid, you said that already,” you scoffed.
Steve’s eyebrows shot up and you froze. The corners of his lips turned upwards.
“She speaks,” he said.
You shied away from his gaze and he sighed.
“It doesn’t make it right though, him being a kid. I know,” Steve said. “But I’m not going to let that happen to you again.”
You sink back into the blanket you’d been wrapped around. When he called your name, it made you sick, you forgot he knew it. Yet there was comfort in someone calling for you, in such a desperate manner at that. You ignored him, and a warm puff of air hit your back when he sighed, again.
You were going to stay awake, but for some reason you fell asleep.
#g/t#stranger things g/t#g/t writing#g/t stranger things#giant/tiny#borrower!reader#borrower!reader x steve harrington#g/t fic#hope you enjoy the read :)#finally felt a bit motivated to write something#let me know how you like the story so far
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Surviving is Easier with a Helping Hand - Chapter 1
A platonic Borrower!Reader (2nd person, eventual They/Them) & Casey Jones fic!!! Also on ao3!!!
Getting seen by Beans is the least of your concerns. Maybe, if you were born many years ago, they would have been your greatest worry.
Now, though?
There were monsters. Tearing apart every inch of the world. Destroying everything in sight. If there was anything a good borrower knew how to do, it was stay out of sight.
Maybe Beans should have been higher on your list.
The monsters had taken everything. Even your temporary base, which you had recently made camp in, had been destroyed. Blood-curdling screams shook the ground you stood on, piercing through the air like shrapnel. You needed to move from the rubble you were hiding by, but one slip up would put you in direct sight of the monsters. You swallowed another thick breath in an attempt to keep yourself from hyperventilating. A thick, pink, pulsing limb slithered past you, and your heart dropped.
This was it. This was goodbye. Goodbye to a world that tore you apart moment by moment, yet one you still couldn’t bare to leave. The monster growled, teeth grinding together, and you clenched your eyes. It shrieked, moving towards you.
One. Two. Three seconds passed.
Nothing happened yet.
You dared to peek open your eyes, wondering when the inevitability was going to come. But instead, you saw (and heard, oh so loudly), as moving blades on a stick tore through the flesh of the monster, which was clawing every which way in an attempt to fight back against… Whatever was tearing it apart. It thumped against the rubble-covered ground, blood still leaking from its unrecognizable form.
Its attacker killer was hovering over it. Like radioactive puddles dripping from sliced open barrels, it’s predatory, glowing eyes, surrounded by the darkness found only where the stars never shined, stared down at its fresh kill. Only for a second, though. Instantly, it started looking around. Shuffling, moving. Low to the ground and slow. Like stalking for its next victim. The blades of the stick held still, no longer emitting a violent buzzing noise (which you somehow hadn’t noticed while bating your breath. Likely drowned out by your heart beating so loud in your ears it could explode).
You followed it with your own eyes. Analyzing it. Afraid to let it out of your sight. You took in its appearance.
The skull-like mask (you had seen so many skulls, it was hard not to know what one looked like), the two red lines, one going down through each of the eyes (blood? Not monster blood, though there was plenty of that on its outfit. Blood like yours), the fabric of a cape over some undamaged-looking metal gear (the colour was too bright, too clean, for it to be scavenged material. How did it get it?), and gloved hands with (surprisingly blood-lacking) bandages around the arms.
Your analysis of the thing stopped, though, as its eyes locked onto you, far closer than you remember it last being. You felt sick. Going from one near death to another? You didn’t know if you could handle it. The rush of energy you felt earlier had worn, and you were exhausted. Maybe if you kept still, it wouldn’t take mind of you?
It approached. Slowly, still stalking. The way it held itself shifted, though, in a way you had crept many times before. As if it were prepared to run forward. Your mind screamed danger, but your body refused to function properly. You begged yourself to move, to hide, to do something to prevent yourself from becoming another blood splatter on the ground.
It was closer, holding a gloved hand forward. Palm up. It said something. Maybe? You couldn’t hear. Your heartbeat was too loud again. Your head thrummed, nausea and tears pooling inside of you. Shuffling back, barely making any distance, your body hit rock. The hiding spot that protected you from one fate trapped you to another. It could easily grab you, tight fist digging into you and crushing most of your body.
Thickness burbled up your throat, eyes burning. You tried to swallow your emotions. To not show any more fear than you already had. But it didn’t matter, because as soon as one sob escaped your lips, the rest came rushing out. Entire body shaking, you stumbled, falling forward to hit ground. Or, at least, it would have been ground, if the masked figure hadn’t shot a hand below you. You sobbed harder, which one wouldn’t think possible, but you managed to do it.
It had you, and you had literally fallen right into its grasp.
#well. i normally just post drawings on here. but SOMEONE *cough cough smallification cough cough* GAVE ME G/T CJ BRAINROT#also i wrote this all in an hour and now im too tired to write more so this is all u get <3#tmnt#rottmnt#rottmnt movie#rottmnt fanfic#rottmnt fanfiction#rise casey jones#rottmnt casey jones#tmnt g/t#rottmnt g/t#tmnt giant/tiny#rottmnt giant/tiny#g!casey jones#giant!casey jones#t!reader#tiny!reader#borrower!reader#SiEwaHH AU#silly sounding acronym hehehe
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Okay fellow pervs, is there anyone who can point me in the direction of some G/T smut? Anything in the realm of giant/tiny, borrower, fairy, etc smut? I'm having absolutely NO luck and I just KNOW that there is smut written for EVERY possible kink out there so pleeeeease help me out here? 😭❤️🐰
#find that fic#find fic#smut#g/t smut#g/t#giant/tiny#borrower#borrowers#borrower!au#borrower!reader#fairy!reader#fairy!au#fairy smut#borrower!smut#help plz#help finding a fic
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I made a Samus & borrower!reader oneshot like 2 weeks ago and forgor to share it here asjshakshakaj
It's in google drive rn, I wanna upload it to ao3 but I can't think of a good title, pls suggest hshsjshsh
Edit: FORGOT TO MENTION TW FOR INJURY, MENTIONS OF DEATH AND TRAUMATIC EVENTS
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Masterpost
Everything on the account
By clicking on the tags it should bring you to all the posts with that tag on my account
Part 1 (Avengers, Black Widow, Guardians of the Galaxy) Part 1
Part 2 (Shang Chi, WandaVision, Loki, Hawkeye, Moon Knight, Ms. Marvel, TLaT, Deadpool)
Spiderman and Venom (Holland, Maguire, Garfield, Venom, No Way Home)
Avengers cast
#dad look its the good kush#venom!reader#borrower!reader#hydra!reader#supersoldier!reader#vigilante!reader#masterlist#☆
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Cockwarming buggy during a meeting
Imagine Buggy's cock sitting inside you while you're in the middle of a meeting. You can hardly even think as he talks to Crocodile and Mihawk, being the strategist of the group it's most imperative that you're able to focus. With the soft rocking inside you, the appendage separated from the rest of him, it's almost a wonder how you're not drooling over the table, a sharp thrust reminds you where you are and that you're being asked a question.
Without hesitation you snap at Crocodile, being one of the few people in the world to do so without facing his wrath. He gives you a moment to think while you can't decide who you're mad at more. Croc for bringing you back in the conversation or buggy for edging you once more in the middle of speaking, the loss of an orgasm more distracting than anything else the clown has done so far.
He looks so smug sitting next to you, Mihawk is sure it's because Buggy was the one who got you to join this group and under your careful guidance the odd group has managed to accomplish goals they wouldn't have thought before possible. Not the fact that you would be dripping his cum when you stand up yet have been left completely unsatisfied.
You'll let him have this for now but when the two of you are alone he will have hell to pay for all his little stunts he's managed to pull off today.
#one piece#one piece x reader#one piece smut#buggy smut#buggy#buggy the clown#buggy one piece#buggy x reader#captain buggy#buggy op#op buggy#buggy x y/n#buggy x you#here yall go nee buggy nation#anyone wanna let me borrow they Netflix so i can watch opla#PLEASE
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I find very funny how aggressive is Y/N to Wally
It seems that Wally doesn't understand the concept of personal space.
Borrower AU belongs to @cloudy-dreams
#my art#digital art#wally darling#welcome home#welcome home wally#welcome home arg#puppet show#wally darling x y/n#welcome home y/n#welcome home fanart#borrower au#wally darling x reader#g/t#g/t art#g/t au
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a man who could do BOTH
i want him
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chapter 1: the plummet of doom
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stranger things g/t
hi! i had multiple asks for this so i finally wrote something for it!! i hope i can deliver, based on what i made last year. i wanna continue this story :) ugHh! summary is, dustin finds you, and its misery. until TADA steve harrington swoops in to save you. also the borrower is a fellow girly.
borrower!reader x steve harrington
pov: you're a borrower who got herself stuck in a trash can
Stuck between plastic you tried to pry yourself out of the darkness. The stench of rotten foods you’d wished you’d gotten your hands on before made you gag. Sure, you could take the smell of a dead mouse stuck inside a trap but still cry at its death. Yet this food, it smelled foul and your hand sunk into it. It collapsed under your fingers as you gingerly pulled your hand back. You grabbed onto a piece of black plastic and pulled yourself up.
I’m such an idiot.
You continued to climb up the mountains of garbage bags while trying not to fall. It was slick or sticky depending where you touched it. You recalled yourself earlier in the day when no one was home, other than for that stupid cat. You’d climbed onto the tabletop and were getting quite a few crumbs of bread. A victory you awaited to celebrate in the coziness of your walls. Yet when that thing meowed at you, it scared the shit out of you. Foolishly you misstepped and fallen into the depths of rotten peels and papers. Your hook had gotten stuck on thick brown paper and wouldn’t let go, and then the worst of it happened. That damn door to the entrance boomed making you freeze up. Your grip grew tighter as footsteps boomed in your direction. A familiar high-pitched voice of the house was talking to the devil cat.
Then she muttered something about the trash being taken out. That's when you hid under the flesh of fruit and held your breath. Then find yourself trying to untangle yourself from this mess. It had taken far too long to break the garbage bag, but journeying to the top of the tin became hard labor. You were dirty, sweating, and really wanted a breath of fresh air. Things you were used to feeling, but this time you weren’t sure if you’d make it. These humans, you weren’t sure where they threw out so much food waste in the first place. Your hands trembled. Would you suffocate in this pile of trash, or worse?
You climbed up the last black bag closest to the lid. Yet you were so far away, and when you jumped your flicker of hope vanished.
“Shit,” you squeaked as your foot went over something slick.
You fell on top of another bag in the darkness and looked up at the ceiling. The longer you looked at the dark metal caved lid your eyes welled up. This couldn’t be it, to die due to your own foolishness. You’d expected to die due to a fight with the whiskered beast, or crushed by the hand of a human. Not being dumped into the trash due to your own skittishness (or stupidity).
“No,” you said to yourself. You got up and slid down the trash to hit the metal can. You started to bang it in frustration, like it would open. You shouted till your throat got sore, not remembering when you’d even shouted last. Hot tears slipped down your face, at least you wouldn’t go down quietly. Yet no one would know, the mad little borrower, screaming till they could no longer breathe.
Your knuckles stung and your tears had stopped. Then a loud creaking noise followed by being shed in golden light made you gasp. Tearful again you turned to look up and your eyes went wide. The house you borrowed from, the boy that lived there, stared down at you in awe.
“Holy shit,” he said.
You purse your lips together and lean into the wall.
I think I’ll die actually.
Your thoughts were not answered as a large hand loomed over you. You ran and tried to dig your way into the garbage. When you tried to dive in further into the trash he’d gotten your leg. Pulling you out painfully slowly and you sighed. This was worse than trash death, this was so much worse. You were held upside down and you were met with his dark brown eyes. His fingers pinched your ankle and you were terrified it would break.
“What are you?” he asked.
A warm cloud of air hit your face causing you to swing. You stayed silent, not daring to give this kid more reason to keep you around. You hoped. Again, your hopes were crushed as he dropped you into darkness. The small space had even you feeling cramped in as you kicked the doors of it. He shushed you but that only made you kick harder. The doors wouldn’t budge but when you heard two voices you stopped.
Then it went quiet. Then it went still. Then something zipped and you hit the ground.
“Ow,” you muttered.
The ground under you was colored red and felt like dust. You became distracted for a moment as you put it between your fingers. Tiny rocks slipped past your fingers, and your lips parted. You realized it was quite warm as well, and when you looked up you hissed. It was a bright light that packed a lot of heat it seemed. You’d never seen it before, or maybe you had. You looked away and blinked. Seeing the outline of the light in dark colors everywhere you looked. Then you saw the kid again, staring at you.
You stood up and already scurried off under a piece of wood. Yet he knew you were there but you couldn’t help yourself. You’d rather die trying to survive than playing his game.
“Aw, hey buddy. I’m not going to hurt you,” his voice was now above you.
“Buddy,” you scoffed with a brow raised.
This kid was trying to act like a nice guy?
“Look, uh. I don’t know if you know English actually,” he said. You looked to the other exit of the wood tunnel and started to crawl through it. “But I’m not going to hurt you, okay?” he said. When you crawled out you saw him, staring right at you. He frowned but then his face lit up.
“Maybe you’re hungry,” he seemed determined as he scurried out of the room. You looked back at the red dust to see it stopped at… glass. Your heart dropped and you got out of the wooden tunnel. You looked around to see your worst nightmare. You were trapped in a glass box, and the only way out was up. Your heart started to pound against your chest and your hand touched it. You wanted to cry again, and you weren’t sure if it was possible to.
Then something fell right beside you, and you looked back up. The kids' fingers pulled away and you looked back down. There was a pile of food beside you and you licked your lips. The kid told you to go ahead and eat from the same source. He called it, KitCat? Whatever it was, it took you a moment but you dug right in. It tasted like heaven to you, it melted in your mouth and was sweet. A different kind of sweet from that one time you had the peel of an apple or any other food.
You’d sat down beside it and ate away till you were full. When you were done, you could feel his eyes burning the back of your head. You sighed, now full, at least feeling a little better, but what now?
“My name is Dustin,” he introduced himself.
Your brows shot up and you looked up at him.
“Dustin,” he pointed at himself.
The giant child was trying to have a conversation with you. You sighed, defeated, and took in a deep breath. You stood up and told him your name. This sent him into being a crazed maniac. He was giggling, gasping, and practically shouting at you. You just stared back up at him in shock at how overjoyed he was to hear you say a couple of words. You decided to stay quiet afterward, already regretting those words. You’d hidden under the wooden log and curled yourself up into a ball. You didn’t even have your damn hook anymore, you felt naked, useless. Eventually, the kid gave up, told you goodnight, and turned the lights off. Except yours. Thankfully it was a quiet night as you tried to fight off heavy eyelids. Eventually darkness, once again, got the best of you.
You felt weightless and then your face crashed into something. You blinked your eyes open and realized you were trapped in darkness. You rubbed your eyes and your body flung toward another wall in the darkness. You hissed in response and backed up to the other wall. You steadied yourself and then your heart sank.
Last night flashed before your eyes and now you were here. Stuck inside the trap he’d put you in last night. Going who knows where, and you couldn't fight it. You couldn’t do anything so you kicked the opening again. Nothing happened, but you did it again. You kicked again and again until you got tired.
Being thrown into a bag and tossed around was not ideal. All the while this kid, Dustin, said nothing to you. You sat, defeated in his trap, as loud muffled noises met your ears. It scared the hell out of you, to be in this position. Would he tell other humans about you? What was he going to do with you? It made your head hurt.
Time passed, and finally, the bag opened. You were lying down and were immediately met with new faces. They all looked wide-eyed, mouths dropped and they were all children.
“Oh what the…” you stood up while trying to sink back into the bag.
“What is that?” the boy with thick black hair said.
You raised a brow at that, that. They are referring to you as it?
Dustin told them your name and you rubbed your temple. Your neck strained looking up at a total of five new faces. Oh, you hated this, this is bad.
“What? Did you name it?” the boy with a bandana tied around his head asked.
“It’s my own name,” you spoke up.
All eyes snapped to you and you stayed seated. You looked over your shoulder and your eyes went wide. All you could see were patches of long thick green grass.
“This is insane,” the redhead girl said.
“Isn’t it so cool?” Dustin said giddily.
You followed the conversation, kinda, but eventually, you lost track of the topics. Something about a creature named Dart, and how Dustin found you. You hopped over the ledge and your feet were met with a soft ground. The blades of grass met your height and the edge of your lips tugged upward. You reached a hand out to touch it but then you got scooped up into a warm hand.
Damnit.
You struggled against their grip but their fingers just tightened around you. The world spun until you were met by the kids' faces again. They started to blur in front of you and your breath started to get shallow. Once again you’d faded into darkness.
—
It had been a couple of days of being handled and biting your tongue. You’d still been staying in Dustin’s glass box, which was called an “aqua-something” you couldn’t remember. You’d occasionally see his pet “turtle” slowly walking around on the floor. You sat on the log with your head in your hands. Trying to think of a way out of the cage, since Dustin put down the mesh top on it. You were close to escape two nights ago but had managed to mess up your leg. It wasn’t till you were awkwardly walking around in the morning he’d made the connection.
You perked up when you heard the door and slid under the log. You watched Dustin walk in on his lonesome. That was odd, usually the other kids joined him to just watch you (creepy). He flopped onto the bed and huffed. You rested your hands on the log and watched him look sad. It actually made your heart crack at the sight. Dustin hadn’t treated you horribly, but not amazingly either. Yet, you knew human children were complicated. You’d heard his mom complain about his teenage years when you were still in the walls.
Your brows furrowed and you huffed. Yep, now you remembered why you hated him. He took you away from your quiet, peaceful life which would have ended in a trashy death. When you zoned back into reality Dustin was no longer in bed. The hairs on your neck rose as a shadow loomed over you. Exhausted, you just let him pick you up into his warm palms. He held you in a loose fist and you stared up at him.
“You’re still mad at me?” he asked.
You didn’t say anything and he sighed. Clearly, you were still upset over him holding you so tightly you’d passed out. The first time he showed you to his friends, he’d left bruises for days all over your ribs. They were sore alongside your pride, now with the addition of a possibly broken leg.
“I’m sorry,” he repeated for the millionth time. You looked away with little to no interest in his words. If you had any power over him, it was this. You didn’t give him what he wanted, and he’d leave you alone. Most of the time. This time he’d placed you in his backpack which had duck tape all over one side. You were surrounded by duck tape on the inside as well and pressed yourself up against it. He’d travel in silence the entire time and that freaked you out. The kid was always talking your ear off, even when you were pretending to not listen. Honestly, the things he said confused you but again, interested you.
In the darkness, you finally heard Dustin whispering. Another voice whispered back and soon enough you were jostled in the bag. You landed on your bad leg and bit down a yelp. The sound of the zipper was followed by light. You dragged yourself to the corner of the pocket and were still shed by a shadow.
“Dude, what are you talking about? There's nothing here,” a guy said.
“She’s probably hiding, hold on,” Dustin said.
Damn right, I am.
You pressed your back against the wall and hugged your knee to your chest. You blinked in surprise as the surface below you tipped. You started to slide and you had nothing to grab onto. Your good leg met with a hard surface and the bag disappeared. Your eyes darted around you and you found out you were on an open table. Escape was possible.
“What the–” you heard as Dustin cut off the voice.
“Right?” Dustin introduced you to the voice.
You slowly turned around to be met with someone older for once. You take a step back and cringe at the pain shooting up your leg. The guy looked at you with wide brown eyes but they softened. His tense shoulders relaxed and his brows furrowed. He put his hands on the table and he looked at Dustin.
“She’s scared, and looks like hell,” he said. Soon enough loud voices filled your ears as you started to step away to the edge of the table. You looked down at the drop which would surely end you. A shiver ran up your spine and you looked over your shoulder.
…
Steve watched you and his chest cracked at the sight. You were pale and were shaking like a leaf. Not to mention the limp in your walk. You’d been handled by Dustin and his knucklehead friends. He ran a hand through his hair and put a hand on his hip. He’d dealt with weird shit before but you were something entirely new. He didn’t want to freak you out, considering Dustin had helped in that department already.
“Okay okay,” Steve tapped the table, “Dustin, I’m taking her.”
“What?” Dustin asked and your head snapped to Steve.
Steve’s eyes went wide and he shook his head. “I mean, they’ll just stay with me. Dustin, clearly you’ve done enough.”
Dustin tried to fight his idea, claiming you’d been “found” by him. If anything you helped him, you vividly remember going insane in a trash can. That led him to opening it, so you really saved yourself, kinda.
“Dustin, just look at her,” Steve pointed at you.
Dustin’s anger washed away but no words followed.
“Steve!” Robin shouted from the other side of the doors.
“Yeah, I heard you!” Steve shouted back.
You jumped and he apologized immediately. Your tiny face finally looked up at him but he couldn’t detect your emotions. Once Dustin recapped Steve on what had happened up to this point, Robin burst in.
“Jesus,” Steve jumped and turned around to face her. He moved himself to cover you from her vision as Robin started to complain to him.
“C’mon doofus, it's my break time,” Robin exclaimed and continued to complain.
Your heart raced as you let Steve’s silhouette cover you from her eyes. Dustin kept looking at you but you could never meet his eyes. You sidestepped closer to Steve and the edge of the table. Your head was spinning, and you were losing sight of your escape plan “the plummet of doom” you’d called it 5 minutes ago.
“Oh my god, what is that?” you heard and you looked upward.
Robin, Steve, and Dustin loomed over you. Your heart plummeted to your stomach and you slid off the table. You hugged a leg of the table and made your way down. Shouts followed and then your fingers gave out. Hair whipped your face as you shut your eyes tight. Instead of being met with a hard floor you were met with something soft. You opened your eyes to see Steve staring down at you, inches away. Your face flushed at the closeness while he looked startled. His fingers cave in around you to hold you still and you don’t move.
“Jesus, who jumps off a ledge like that?” was the first thing he blurted.
#g/t#stranger things g/t#g/t stranger things#g/t writing#g/t thoughts#giant/tiny#borrower!reader#borrower!reader x steve harrington#g/t community#g/t fic#g/t fiction#giant tiny#I WILL WRITE PART 2 SOON#this was rough to start#but bare with me#it'll be good#gotta just do some build up first#thank you for reading :)
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a/n: ty for all ur asks ill answer them soon but i just wanna write something small to get my mind off assignments and i miss writing; very self-ship coded and indulgent
thinking about geto who loves to game and because he’s already finished his finals for the semester, he’s is enjoying his time online but you still have some exams and essays to finish up on and you’re just... so distracted by your boyfriend’s side profile as he shouts and smiles at his teammates on the game.
your mind is all muddled from the information you try to soak up, but you know you’ve reached your limit long ago when you start looking at the brightness of suguru’s screens more than your dull notes, and you fall even deeper in love when after each round he comes off his set-up to check on you.
first, “how’s my baby’s studying going?” he asks softly even if you cannot hear with the earphones in, and here you’re more focused, jumping a little when a larger, gentle hand strokes your calves.
“sorry, su— what did you say?” he hovers over you, gently pushing away the hand clutching your notes to give you a kiss before sitting down again.
“how’s your studying?” his tone is so, so loving and small, as if afraid that he’ll add onto your stress but he does the exact opposite.
you just settle for a shrug, wanting to tell him about this frustrating time period that you have to memorise the events for but before you can open your mouth, you can hear satoru’s loud ass from his headset and you both share a giggle.
“go,” you whisper, running a hand briefly through his hair.
“okay darling. you’ll be okay,” geto never forgets to gift you with a forehead kiss, tender against your skin before picking himself up. this happens a second, third, fourth time — hell, you lost count of how many rounds they played but your studying starts to falter around round three when you cannot take any more of the black plague and the protestant v. catholic disputes.
so, you just switch to watching your boyfriend be skilled with his fingers, clacking away on the keyboard and keeping the team together when gojo again dramatically has to scream at why he keeps getting shot at. he was everyone’s rock, at this point, but he was only willing to let you be the chiseler and chip away at him until you find obsidian.
“sugu...” you mumble, not expecting to hear you, but just at that moment one of his friends had to take a break, pausing it. all the chaos that comes in through his headphones stop, so you’re surprised when his head snaps to yours.
“hm?” he hums, looking at you with that smile.
you point, more to his lap than to his face, “can i?”
geto wasn’t a stranger to this, so he swivels his chair and opens his hands to face you; you happily trot over to him, abandoning your notes for a little bit of downtime. before you know it, you’re placing one leg over his pelvis and straddling him, safely cradled by him.
“hi.”
you giggle, “hello.”
geto grins in return, hands caressing your sides like it was his stress ball. “how’s it goin’?”
you shake your head and frown, “can’t remember.”
your lover only gives you a downward smile, one of his hands coming up to rub the stress away from you. his thumb goes over your furrowed brows, fingers squeezing your jaw until it relaxes.
“there we go...” he softly says, “want to stay here?”
“if you don’t mind? i don’t want to memorise any more things,” geto can hear the pout in your voice and he coos inwardly, brushing a few strands of hairs from your face.
“of course i don’t mind, baby,” another forehead peck, “once this round ends, i’ll clean up and come to bed with you, okay?”
“promise? you always let satoru talk you into another round.”
and you jump a little again when you hear a familiar voice sound out from the headset, hey, i heard that!!! and you laugh with suguru, exchanging small smiles as the other gives you a tender kiss — “i won’t let him do it this time.”
and suguru stays true to his word, squeezing you periodically while your hands wrap around his shoulders and your face buries itself in his neck. you’re snuggled comfortably on his lap, sometimes giving him kisses on the neck and he wriggles because of his sensitive spots. he has the pleasure of hearing your laughs, albeit faded and soft, you have all the warmth in the world in the form of geto suguru.
it’s when you’re slipping in and out of consciousness that they conclude the round, suguru immediately bidding goodbye to his friends and suddenly the world is quiet again.
“—eetheart? baby?” geto’s voice cut into your conscious and you blink away your fatigue. “there she is.”
“yea— here,” yawn, “here i am.”
suguru barks out a laugh, a beautiful noise and it’s got you smiling too. again, his hand like second nature goes to your hair to arrange it, heart tightening up when you lean into his touch.
“shall we head to bed?” you nod sleepily, but you have to get your kisses first, arms bending to slot your hands to his neck and face. there, you can feel his skin heat up, pale skin illuminated by the computer screens that turn red just barely. you bring suguru in for a gentle kiss, letting your boyfriend lead the way as you lock lips.
you move in tandem, in rhythm with him, taking in a deep breath when his arms wrap tighter around your waist. he hums into the kiss, cold hands descending upon your warm back and teasing that line that follows your spine, while he moves his head against yours. sneakily, he slips his tongue into your mouth and swallows your soft moans, pulling away with a deep breath when oxygen becomes scarce.
geto looks at you like you hung the stars, eyes soft and tired as well, a glow on his face and lips pulled into a smile.
“my pretty, pretty girl,” he whispers, your heart picking up in an even faster pace, taking advantage of your hand on his face. he turns his face, lips upon your palm and you can feel your heart soar. the scene is still all quiet — the computers shut down by now, the soft rush of water in the plugged-in diffuser, your breathing, as he takes your hand and kisses, kisses, kisses. each finger, knuckle to your wrist, leaving no place untouched by his lips.
you tuck his bangs behind his ear, but it will dart out soon enough. “my... gamer... boy?” you stutter out questionably and you make suguru throw his head back and laugh, fingers feeling at your skin.
“oh, pretty and hilarious? i think i scored,” the laughter subsides and you get lost in his eyes all over again, a labyrinth that you never want to come out of because it’s warm and cozy and consists of everything that you love.
“you jest.” you’re grinning, heading back into your safe space as you hide your face, and geto takes that as a sign to stand up, just as he knows everything about you. adjusting you, he stands up shortly after, bringing you to the bed and plopping onto it with a big sigh.
“oh, i do anything but joke about my baby’s capabilities,” he hovers over you, looking like a deity above you that you’d think you’re meeting with god, “not when she’s just so stunning. it’s true.”
geto suguru always had a way with words, and now, a way with your heart. from the lovesick look he has in his eyes, or the extra hair tie he keeps on his wrist for you, or maybe even the fingers that know your body so well, he knows you like second nature. loving you is like that — natural, ingrained into his body and yet every time he kisses you, the same fireworks never fail to ignite.
“by the gods, i’m sure they’re all talking about you in the love songs they write,” suguru whispers from above you, voice barely above a whisper and the pure articulation of it takes your breath away. the words and description fit him better, you know, but you’d indulge yourself in the eyes of your lover for once and let his love consume you whole.
geto mumbles mindlessly, thumb going over your bottom lip, “and everything they sing and speak of is true. venus looks like everything true and good and sweet. she looks just like love.”
“where is she, now?”
“what do you mean? i’m looking at her right now.” suguru replies with a smile of his own before he devours you whole, lips upon lips and skin against skin and nothing makes his heart burn and head spin quite like you do. he guesses it’s all goddess-level duty, but even then, even goddesses do not know of their powers sometimes, just like you and your humility and all your kindness and beauty that even you don’t know what you do to him.
and suguru is more than happy to let you know.
#i borrowed the last line from an old thing i wrote tee hee#anyway i love lovesick geto and also i just need some comfort rn#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk x reader#jjk fluff#jjk geto x reader#jjk geto#jjk suguru#geto fluff#suguru geto x reader#geto x reader#geto x you#geto suguru#jujutsu kaisen fluff#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen geto#getou suguru x reader#getou fluff#suguru geto x you#getou x reader
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Consider Remmy with a borrower darling. They found one of his doll houses and take the real food from inside for their own dinners and eventually leave him a 'thank you' note despite it being against the rules.
Maybe Remmy thinks his dolls have come to life. Maybe they find out about their new little borrower friend. All he knows is that he finally has someone who enjoys his cooking, enjoys his art, and enjoys his care (as far as he's concerned)
They knew they shouldn't have taken a thing.
The more they borrowed from him, the more questions would run rampant in the mind of the human living in that room. He seemed a little strange a first glance, but relatively harmless over all. It was quick for the tiny person to see he carried more about his dolls and the houses they lived in than himself - sacrificing hours of his day to tend for them, barely leaving any for himself. New clothing, fully functioning appliances, freash food. He worked so hard on everything - it was such a shame to see the real dishes he made for his dolls go to waste. Portions of that size weren't much to a human, but to the borrower it was a feast.
Borrower Darling allows curiosity and their hunger to take control as they happily gorge on the food left behind by Remmy. It was unlike any of the crumbs or scraps of food they scrounged for before stumbling upon his home - leading them to wolf down the entire meal leaving nothing to take back with them. Exhausted from their travels and all the food they stuffed themselves with, Borrower Darling decides to take a nap in one of the bed Remmy sit up for his dolls. It was like sleeping on a cloud. What was supposed to be a quick nap had them in an almost comatose state until the next morning. Remmy wakes up bright and early every day to clean the dollhouse table of the meals he provided the previous evening. His surprise upon finding the table to be empty was stark, but it was nothing compared to the love he felt at first sight of the small human next to his most precious doll.
Another doll? No, the blankets moving in time with each of Darling's breathes proved it if their features weren't proof enough. Like a little angel.... Remmy pinched himself several times to make sure he wasn't dreaming. He feared taking his eyes off them as if they'd vanished into thin air the second he looked away, but - what if they're hungry when they wake up? He isn't sure when they snuck into his home, but it had to be sometime last night - meaning it's been some time since last ate. How did the poor thing feed themselves before they came across his home?
Remmy quietly leaves the room, making quick work of cooking something else for darling to enjoy. He places the food in the dollhouse before going back to bed as if he hadn't seen a thing - setting up his phone atop his bookshelf at the perfect angle to peer into the kitchen windows. He wouldn't want to frightened Darling, considering how hard they tried to make themselves invisible hiding beneath the doll and the bed's sheets to go unnoticed. He faces the wall as his excited gets the best of him, gripping his pillows for dear life to keep himself from leaping out of bed at the wrong time.
Darling is awoken by the aroma of a fresh meal. Sunlight blinds them as it reflects from the mirror within the bedroom they're in. How long had they been asleep?.... Had that human noticed them? All that food they ate last night - yet their stomach howls for them to find out what was waiting in the kitchen. Peering out the windows, Remmy still seemed to be asleep. They hurried downstairs, making quick work of the dish while being mindful enough to take some back with them. Guilt sets in as it finally crosses their mind that they've eaten all the food Remmy has left out for his dolls - not them. They remembered spotting a crayon and notepad in one of the upper room floors. Right next to the bedroom they'd slept. The room where he favorite doll was put to rest every evening.
"Thank you, Remmy <3 All your love and hard work has brought me to live! I'm too shy to move while you're awake, but I'm watching over you every night.
<3, Maribelle."
The note was enough to bring Remmy to tears. Maribelle was the first doll his grandmother ever gave him. Darling must've heard her name as he told her and the rest of his dolls how much he loved them. How long had they been scurrying around his home? He hasn't proofed the rest of the house for them yet! More tears doll as he watches the recording of Darling dragging Maribelle to the kitchen table, tucking the note beneath her folded arms before making their escape out the nearest window.
He super glued it shut that same afternoon.
It wasn't to keep them out or to trap them inside. What if it falls on them while they're leaving? He seals off a few more windows and adds some frences to the fireplace so they can't crawl out that way either. It's only for their safety. The front door will be wide open for whenever they return. From his memory and the video tape maybe he could even tailor some of the clothing he made for his dolls to fit them. He'll spruce up the furniture as well, and maybe add a few more house plants so Darling can really feel at home. He'll make everything absolutely perfect for them. They already appreciate this much from him. If he does everything just right they'll never want to step foot out of his home again.....
A guy could dream...and maybe with enough dreaming all his wishes will come true.
#Remmy my oc#yandere#yandere x reader#yandere imagines#yandere x you#yandere insert#yandere blurb#yandere headcanons#yandere scenarios#yandere oc#yandere drabble#Borrower reader#yandere male#soft yandere
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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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✎ . . . WHAT A STEAL!
⭑ ࣪ ˖ sum’z notes.ᐟ not rlly any warnings i think!! basic sashisu x reader (suguru’s is prob a lil more obvious) u r just a victim of sashisu thievery 🫶🏾
SASHISU who steal your things.
your favorite pink beanie has gone missing. you wear it every time you go out, even around the house sometimes, but the hat has suddenly went MIA. last you saw, it was on your desk. and shoko was the last person in your room, but she doesn't seem to have your beloved hat. the four of you are heading out for brunch at some cafe satoru was going rabid about, so you don't want to keep them waiting over a beanie. it’s not until you settle for another and meet the trio at the door that you spot it on satoru’s head.
he doesn't show the slightest hint of guilt as you approach, in fact gojo acts like everything is normal. you'd find the sight of this 6 foot giant topped off with a baby pink beanie amusing if you weren't so annoyed in the moment.
“i have been looking all over for that!” you glare up at gojo, poking a finger in his chest.
and he just gives you a shit-eating grin. “oh, i know! looks like you finally found it, yeah?”
he thinks the little frown you give him is so cute, but gojo still pacifies your angry stare by engulfing you in his blue scarf. he taps a finger on your nose, and his eyes light up when you grin at him. you suppose this is a fair trade.
a brand new pair of pink slides that you just bought to wear around the house have suddenly disappeared clean from your bedroom. you wonder if you left them in shoko’s room, and search for her to ask.
“sho?” you call as you stick your head out onto the balcony. “have you seen my sandals?”
she’s leaning against the rail having a smoke, suguru sitting in one of the balcony chairs. your eyes gravitate to her feet as she asks, “which ones?”
‘which ones?’ you repeat mockingly in your head, staring at said shoes on her feet because she’s seemingly helped herself. along with a pair of your new socks, too, apparently?
"now, shoko-"
"okay, okay." she and suguru share delighted giggles. "can i wear them a little longer, until i finish this?" shoko lifts the glowing cigarette in her hand.
you huff, though unable to fight the way your lips curl up into a smile. "fine. i want them back right after, though. get your own slides."
she brushes you off with a turn of her head, giggling. "love you, y/n."
"yeah, yeah, whatever."
one. two.
one...two...
yep, one of your pillows is definitely missing.
it's not on the couch (like the last time gojo took it when he fell asleep there) and not in shoko's room (which you assume would make the most sense). you're headed to the guest room next to see if it's been misplaced there, but something feels off when you pass by suguru's open door. his eyes are on you as you step back for a doubletake, and find him relaxed atop a very out-of-place pink pillow on his black bedsheets.
"what, are your pillows not good enough?" hands falling to your hips, your head tilts, a brow raised at geto's unbothered reaction.
he replies with a languid smile. "i find yours a little more comfortable."
you hold your tongue on reminding him that you both went pillow-shopping together, so they're the same pillows. he holds his tongue on admitting that he also likes the way your scent calms his nerves and lulls him to sleep. you both decide it's not important, right now, anyway.
tagz: @anthoosies @staryukis @mysugu @hellkaiserinphoenix :3c
#they’re not all pink bc I like pink (even tho that is true)#or tbh maybe i indirectly did bc i had my stuff in mind and they all happen to be pink....it's just a coincidence i swear NJFNVJD#suguru would steal your coats and hoodies too if they fit LOL#he also ‘’’’borrows’’’’ your hair ties. sir ik you do not own green and red and pink hair ties please be fr#sashisu x reader#sashisu headcanons#sashisu hcs#geto x reader#gojo x reader#shoko x reader#sashisu imagine#sashisu drabble
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Your insta posts as Rachel’s gf:
Liked by mbrighty04 and 13,592 others
yourinstahandle beautiful people in a beautiful place 🥰
racheldaly3 the view was in front of us 😘
Liked by racheldaly3 and 18,271 others
yourinstahandle days I get to give my girl some new ink are my favourite days ✍️
racheldaly3 I love it almost as much as I love you 😘
lucybronze 🔥🔥🔥
mbrighty04 Can’t wait for my turn!
Liked by dalikenza and 14,502 others
yourinstahandle we’re gonna need a bigger shelf ⭐️
maz_pacheco 🎩🎩🎩
rueshalj you don’t hold me like that ball 💔
Liked by bethmead_ and 17,012 others
yourinstahandle even when she’s not on the pitch she’s still getting grass stains on her arse!
mbrighty04 my besties a stunner! 😍
Liked by sarahmayling and 36,810 others
yourinstahandle my icepoles brings all the girls to my yard 🍦
rueshalj where was my invite hoes 😒
Liked by alishalehmann7 and 18,114 others
yourinstahandle when the yogurt tastes funny but it’s too late 😬🤢
rueshalj don’t shit yaself on the pitch hen 💩
racheldaly3 can’t believe you posted this!!
dalikenza if rach disappears later we know why! 😂
Liked by kirstyhanson and 22,360 others
yourinstahandle even the sun isn’t as hot as you 🔥
rueshalj you two are so cringe 🤮
racheldaly3 you’re just jealous!
rueshalj you’re right, please adopt me! 🙏
Liked by bethanyengland4 and 9,971 others
yourinstahandle at least Dexi knew where the camera was!
racheldaly3 only cause you had her treats!
Liked by leahwilliamsonn and 15,763 others
yourinstahandle dickhead love of my life 🥹
racheldaly3 too right 😘
Liked by jordannobbs and 16,473 others
yourinstahandle been there since the beginning 💜
racheldaly3 she stayed 🫶
jordannobbs I remember this day! Your first senior camp!
lucybronze the first time we met (y/n), knew you’d stay together! 💍😉
#rachel daly#rachel daly x reader#woso x reader#lionesses#I borrowed this format from someone but can’t remember who 😘
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Happy Valentine’s Day!
#jack skellington#the nightmare before christmas#fanart#art#jack skellington x reader#oc x canon#tnbc#me and sally did a good job#i borrowed her lipstick tho
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