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ayanominitrash · 10 months

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cross my mind - Gojo x reader

When a cute girl riding her bike in Jujutsu High strolls past Satoru, he almost breaks his neck trying to follow the fleeting figure.

He had to blink twice behind his blindfold to make sure he wasn't just seeing things. He's spent nearly half of his life in the Jujutsu High Tokyo Branch, and he's certain that it's his first time seeing a stranger. Could it be a student from the Kyoto Branch? He wasn't informed of any transferees or visitors. Well, he might have been slacking off and not attending the faculty meetings nowadays, but still. Someone must've not inform him. The tall man thinks he'll give his assistant, Ijichi, a slap later if this turns out to be true.

He stands there for a few seconds, wondering if he should ask her questions, but then again, it might have been just his imagination. Plus, he's already running late to meet his students for a mission.

He carries on his way and exits the campus.

Satoru doesn't even remember that encounter happening until he sees the same girl on the bike again when he comes back from the mission. She was just about to leave the school gates when Satoru put a large hand up to stop her.

"Woah, woah. Excuse me," he says in a firm voice, "but you can't be riding a bike here. Also, are you lost?"

You skid to a stop beside him, planting your sneaker-clad feet on either side of your blue bike. Up close, Satoru can see you clearly and confirms his initial thought of this stranger being cute, especially with how your short-sleeved pastel blue summer dress flows in the breeze, the ends of the skirt slightly riding up past your knees. and the white collar of it folding up to your chin a bit. His hand was itching to fix it for you for some reason.

Why is he thinking about that now? Focus, Satoru.

You stare back at him blankly, indicating that you haven't heard what he is saying. He repeats, and as he's speaking, his eyebrow shot up in his blindfold in his realization that you have no cursed energy.

"I'm not lost," you finally say. "Also, do you not know how far and wide this place is? I couldn't possibly manage myself on foot."

Satoru is slightly taken aback by your bluntness. "If you're not lost, then you do know this is a monastery, right? You can't ride your bike here."

"I'm actually aware this is also a school. But if that is the practice here, I was just about to leave anyway, so… let me off the hook?"

"I'm actually a faculty member here, so…"

"I know who you are."

He pauses. "You do?"

"Satoru Gojo. I heard that I'd know you from your height and blindfold."

"And what about for my incredible good looks?" He smirks. He just couldn't help himself.

"I have yet to see, my guy."

Satoru lifts up the left side of his blindfold to take a peek down at you—or more so, flaunting his captivating blue eyes—so he was told. His smirk is still in place as he pats his blindfold back down over his eye. "Anyway, as a faculty member, I have to know what business you have here."

You lean forward to rest both arms on the top of the bike's handlebars, a bored look on your face. "Trust me, I didn't want to bike my way up here, but my dumb cousin left his lunch, and it was up to me to save the day."

"Cousin?"

You look up at him with a straight face. "Yaga-kun."

Shivers.

Shivers are what Satoru felt up his spine.

What are the odds that the one non-curse user or sorcerer he decides to kind of flirt with is the cousin of his boss and sensei? Gross.

He doesn't miss a beat. "Carry on then."

"Hey, that's it? How do you know I'm not lying?" You ask as he starts walking away.

"No one calls that cranky geezer like that around here. Pretend this never happened, yeah? It'll both do us good, I think."

He doesn't look back at you again, but he does throw a goodbye wave over his shoulder. You pout as you watch him walk deeper into the campus before strolling away.

♡

Quite some time has passed since Satoru last saw you on your bike, but sometimes during the day, he'll recall the brief encounter and wonder how you were doing. He never dared to bring it up and ask Yaga-sensei. Who knows what trouble he'll stir up if he learns he might've been kind of flirting with his cousin?

But there you are again, and Satoru, again, has to blink behind his blindfold just to make sure that it was in fact you, walking on along the outskirts of the training ground he and his first years are in. He watches you quietly with his hands on his hips while his students carry on with their training, obliviously. Your gaze was fixed on his students and on him while walking, holding what seemed to be a lunch bag in your small hands. He notes that you're not wearing a summer dress this time. What adorns your body is instead a white long-sleeved shirt and a grey long skirt that goes down above your ankles, feet covered in brown dress shoes. He doesn't miss the way your lips turn into a slight upward smile, which he finds cute, but he immediately has a hand slashing across his neck, meaning to not acknowledge him in front of his students. Something flashes on your features—disappointment maybe? before you look back forward and continue walking as if you never saw them.

"Who's that?" One of his students, Yuji, says while lowering his shinai, staring up at your fleeting figure.

"She's pretty. I've never seen her here before, though," Kugisaki pipes while wiping a sweat off her brow.

Satoru hums. You are pretty.

"Do you know her, Sensei?" Megumi asks beside him in his usual monotone voice.

"I have never seen her before in my entire life."

"Eh? Then she might be lost then? I sense no cursed energy." Yuji says, "May I be excused, Gojo-sensei?"

"No!" Satoru abruptly answers, making his students jump a bit. He quickly fixes his demeanor by clearing his throat. "As a faculty member, I'll go and see what's up, yeah? You students keep on training 'til I come back."

With that, he wastes no time teleporting to where he thinks you will be.

"What's with that blindfolded idiot?" Kugisaki asks while readying her stance to spar with Megumi again.

"Blindfolded idiot? You've been hanging around too much with Maki-senpai," Yuji comments, earning a whack on his head.

♡

You were quietly walking through the empty hallways of Jujutsu High when suddenly Satoru, in all his tall glory, came into view from around the corner.

"Gojo-sama?" You stop in your tracks as you come face-to-face with him.

You can't entirely read his expression with his blindfold, but you thought the tips of his ears turned pink just now.

"Hello, you. Lunch again?"

You frown before sidestepping him to continue your way down the hallway. "Again? We haven't met before, have we?"

"Aww, someone's got their panties in a bunch?"

You swirl around at him, face all red and a scandalous look on your face in response to what he just said. He tries but fails to not laugh at you.

You continue walking.

"Well, then how about a proper introduction this time? Satoru Gojo. You?"

A few beats of silence, then, "Masamichi, Y/N."

"Hmm, Y/n. And will I be seeing you around enough for me to remember that?"

"I hope not. It's so hard to travel here."

"Not without your bike? You listened to me, eh? A good girl you are."

You ignore the summersaults your heart just did at the name he gave you. "Well, I'm an outsider, so I don't really want to cause any trouble."

"I thought you'd use your cousin-of-the-principal privilege."

"Not everyone is a brat like you, Gojo-sama."

"Oh, and how would you know?"

"My cousin's your boss, remember?"

He heartily chuckles at that.

You've decided you like that sound.

"Why are you here anyway? Don't you have class in session?"

"One of my students was going to come up to you, thinking you were lost. I can't let either one of you talk behind my back now."

"You're so self-centered."

He scoffs but doesn't reply, and you don't say anything as well.

Soon, you find yourself watching Satoru open the sliding doors for you to your cousin's office.

"Y/n! Finally." The brawny man behind the desk straightens up in his chair, only to deflate once again when he sees who you're with. "What are you two doing together?"

"So no hi—hello, my favorite student and co-worker?" Satoru says while sliding the door shut behind him.

"Get out."

You walk up to the desk, "Yaga-kun, I didn't think you'd be so mean, especially how I just have to bring your lunch to you again. You don't even provide me transportation; I had to go on foot."

"What happened to your bike?"

Satoru clears his throat.

"Well." You start, "Just because I have a bike doesn't mean it's okay for you to keep counting on me to bring your forgotten lunch."

"Alright," the grown man sulks, "I'll try to remember it this time."

"You should! I have classes to teach, you know."

"You a teacher then?" Satoru pipes in, genuine interest laced in his voice.

Both you and Yaga-kun look back at the tall man, now sprawled on one of the guests' couches.

"Yes - "

"You don't have to answer that buffoon," he grumbles, to which Gojo pouts. "Also, why am I under the impression that you two know each other? Did I miss something?"

"I have never seen her before in my entire life."

When your cousin looks back at you for confirmation, you only shrug at him. "Well, I suppose I should introduce you to each other. Y/n, Gojo Satoru, a pain in the ass. Gojo Satoru, Y/n, another pain in the ass, but my distant cousin."

You stick your tongue out to Satoru, and he chuckles again.

He finds you too cute.

"Who's older then? Does she need to address me in some way other than 'your highness'?"

You can definitely see the vein almost popping from Yaga-kun's forehead after hearing Satoru's boastful words, "I think you're a year older than her. That doesn't matter. Y/n, I'll make sure to remember my lunch this time; I don't want you to catch this fool's crudeness."

The tall man feigns hurt while you only roll your eyes but can't stop yourself from smiling.

♡

Yaga-sensei was not kidding about remembering his lunch because months had gone by and Satoru was beginning to forget the sound of your voice.

His students asked who you were after that encounter, and he simply said that it was the principal's distant cousin. He also tells his students to make sure to tell him when you're spotted on campus again so he can assist you. "She was lost, and she told me she's forgetful. It's better if I lead the way, yeah? Being a faculty member and all."

All three of his students' eyebrows were raised.

After some time, Satoru finds himself hiding Yaga-sensei's lunch bag just so he can get the chance to see you again. He doesn't know why he would go do something as snatching someone's lunch for a non-sorcerer, let alone for his boss's cousin, but what he does know is that he misses the back-and-forth banter between you two and he misses your cute little reactions whenever he says something that caught you off-guard. He misses how you make his heart flutter. Like, who else is he going to flirt with on campus? Plus, he's bored out of his mind because his students and co-workers are busy, and he should be too, but that's not important right now.

He'd hide the lunch bag at lunch time, but if you don't come after the day, he secretly returns it. After a couple of attempts at scheming,, none of it seems to work and he decides to keep it a bit longer.

Still nothing.

In desperation, Satoru finds himself whistling nonchalantly as he strolls into the principal's office, pretending to be intrigued by the paintings hung up on the walls.

"What the hell are you doing here, Satoru?" The principal grumbles. "Stop slacking off."

"I am nooootttt. Can't I pay my Sensei a visit?"

"No."

"Hmm, then you don't want this, then?"

He holds up the lunch bag he'd stolen two days ago, which he doesn't dare to open, dreading the impending doom of stench that might seep out of it.

"I've been wondering where that went. Where did you find it?" The man looks almost relieved, like a thorn was pulled off his side. "I've been thinking that there's some type of cursed spirit lurking and hiding my stuff, specifically my lunch, for some reason."

"Aren't you glad? Since this has been missing, does that mean your cousin what's-her-face had to visit recently?"

He grits his teeth. "You mean Y/n."

"Yeah, Y/n, yeah. Her."

Shameless.

He'll take any excuse to say your name at this point.

Desperate and shameless, the man that he is.

"She's a teacher for a high school and a college, and this time around is usually a busy time for teachers since it's finals. Something that should also be applicable to you too, right? Satoru."

The man in question only smiles at him.

"So, teacher, huh? Do you also go to her school every once in a while?"

"None of your business, Satoru. Go back to your class."

"Okay, then where is this high school or college?"

"I said OUT."

Satoru can only pout in defeat.

But only for a while.

As mentioned, he was a desperate and shameless man. He purposefully continues to slack off on his duties for the rest of the day, shutting down Ijichi's pleas about important meetings and about this and that - blah,blah, blah. A man needs his big ball of sunshine, you see. And he finds himself thinking of you because of that statement.

The fact that you're his sensei's cousin doesn't even bother him anymore; he really just wants to see you.

So there he was, finally out of his uniform and blindfold, covered in a dress shirt with his glasses instead, traveling across the city in hopes of bumping into you. He knows it would almost be impossible, especially with you having no curse energy, so he can't pinpoint you in the crowd, but he might as well grab his favorite snacks in town and relax from all the hard work he hasn't been doing at all lately. After a while of cafe-hopping and people-watching, he quickly began to get bored and decided to look up the nearby high schools and colleges, hoping your name would pop up.

Desperate and shameless.

He finds your public profile on a website of what looks like a joint elementary and high school establishment.

Now that wasn't too hard. He wishes he had done this sooner.

♡

"What on earth are you doing here?"

You cross your arms across your chest, your eyes looking around the kid's school park, wary of any eyes that might be looking at the two of you and getting the wrong idea. Your self-consciousness cause you to bring your cardigan closer together as it rests over your long floral summer dress. Luckily, classes are still in session, so no one was around to see the two of you. You have no idea why this man, someone you met briefly ages ago and just a co-worker of your grouchy cousin, has turned up at your workplace.

Satoru was grinning up at you as he slightly swayed in his swing. He almost looks funny all folded up like that in a child's seat.

"I came to give you this. Sensei doesn't like me doing any favors, so just tell him that it was delivered to you or something."

Placed in your hands, you see the old lunch bag in which you usually pack your cousin's lunch in the mornings.

"I've been giving him hell for losing this. But did you really just come all the way here to give this to me?"

"I was on my day off, and I figured I'd give this to you personally, you know, because what's inside is probably gross right now."

"You didn't even empty the contents?"

"Who do you think I am?"

"Um, a creep who just showed up to the place I work?"

"I could say the same thing to you back then."

You scoff, clutching the lunch bag in your hands a little too hard. "Is there anything else I can help you with, Gojo-sama?"

"Not even a thank you?" He grins cheekily, and you're starting to get a little annoyed.

Annoyed at how good-looking he is right now, especially with how you can see his blue eyes peer up at you through his glasses.

It's making you squirm a bit under his gaze.

"Thanks."

A pause, then, "By the way, how come I've never seen you around here before?"

"Hm? I just recently moved in next to my cousin's house."

"Ah, I see."

Satoru grins and stands up to stretch his arms over his head. You immediately looked away when the open top buttons of his dress shirt showed a little too much of his skin enough for it to be inappropriate. "Well, I gotta get going and savor my day off."

"Gee, I wish I had one too. Finals season is always hell. I can imagine yours is too."

"Yeah, definitely. Totally."

"Alright, I better get going."

You turn around and start walking, but you change your mind and whip back around, only to find him stopping a few steps from you.

"Is there something - ?" "How about you - ?"

The two of you start to talk at the same time, only to laugh at each other.

"You first," you say after the last giggle.

"Nah, I feel like I've been talking for a long time. You go."

"Well, how about I go on and accompany you on the rest of your day off? I could use a mini break."

To this end, Satoru scratches the back of his nape. You immediately add, "It's okay if you'd rather."

"No. I mean, come with me, yeah. That was what I was gonna say too. It was getting boring being by myself."

You smile. "Okay. Should we meet at the cafe? I'll just finish a few tasks and then I'm done."

"Of course. Do your thing. I'll wait."

With that, you start walking back. After a few steps, you peek behind you only to see the tall man punching a fist into the air.

Of course, he didn't come all the way here just to give you some old, crusty lunch bag.

Little did he know that you were almost desperate enough to pull the same trick on him just so you could see him again.

Almost desperate and shameless, the woman that you are. ˖⁺‧₊˚ ♡ ˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚ ♡ ˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚ ♡ ˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚ ♡ ˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚ ♡ ˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚ ♡ ˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚ ♡ ˚₊‧⁺˖ (❀❛ ֊ ❛„)♡ reblogs and comments are appreciated//do not repost my work anywhere // Finally, I posted again :)) I've been trying to write for Naoya but I find it difficult to write his character - Satoru is the easiest to write for me, cus we alot alike ♡

#gojo jjk #jjk gojo #satoru gojo x reader #gojo satoru x you #satoru gojo #gojo satoru #jjk fanfic #fanfic #jujustu kaisen #yaga masamichi #fluff #teachers #yuji itadori #kugisaki nobara #megumi fushiguro

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wordsbymae · 6 months

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Price of War

Ok I lied, I was gonna do something for an oc, but I have been obsessed with Arcadie: Second Born since I played it so I had to do very short piece inspired by it. Sorry if it isn't as good as you guys are used to! It has been awhile since I've written anything.

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The last of your name, the last of your blood. The sole survivor of a massacre enacted solely to destroy your family, to murder each and everyone of you. The King and Queen were dead. Throats slashed from behind as they feasted and cheered atop their great seats. Next came your older brother and sister. They were fierce warriors but caught completely unaware, in the once assumed safety of their great familial hall. Cut down by those they once called friends. Your uncle, barely leaving his seat, was the fourth to fall. Numerous other family members, those you loved, those you cared for and even those you barely even knew, were slain after. Their blood mixing in with that of their fallen kin. Screams and cheers coming together in a wicked display of evil. Those not of your name ran for their lives, leaving behind their loyalty for the fallen royal family behind in the muck of betrayal.

It was an extermination. Leaving you, youngest of the King and Queen's children, and the last of your entire family, to live. It was due to no cunning or skill of yours that you were still alive. No mercy from above or a chance of fate. The traitor willed you to live and as such you were spared. But, as the traitor sat on the very seat your father was murdered on, used your mother's still warm body as a foot rest, and cleaned the sword he used to cut your brother down, you wished, and not for the last time, that you had fallen with your kin.

He sat before you, lazily wiping your brother's blood from his great sword. You recognised it as the sword your mother gifted him for a successful campaign in the east. The great hall was silent now. There had been gargles and moans of the dying but it was finally silent. Death had come for your once great house. Those complacent in the massacre stood tall and motionless, like statues that littered the walls. And like statues they held no guilt for what had occurred.

You stood, shaken and teary eyed. You tried to hold back emotion, lest the traitor in front of you saw you as weak. You had been dragged from your hiding place while your family was still being butchered, you thought the same would happen to you. Instead you were dragged through rivers of blood and over dying bodies. Your second cousin had gripped onto you ankle with such a force you could still feel his nails digging into your skin now. You could feel his blood drying on your face too, the memory of those who had been dragging you kicking and slashing him as he laid on the floor, until his grip finally loosened.

The traitor in front of you let out a sigh, lulling you back into the present. He seemed bored or at the very least disappointed.

"I thought it would have been harder" he spoke, pushing your mother's body back and forth with his foot, until he bored of it and pushed your mother down the stairs, to your very feet. You stared at her, her eyes dull, yet screaming at you with fear and sadness at the very same time.

" I thought it would take more to bring down the once great royal family". You couldn't tell if he actually wanted an answer, or was just pushing salt into the emotional wounds that littered you.

He stood and began to slowly walk down the steps to meet you. Upon coming across your mother's body he kicked her to the side. There was a time you found him attractive, there was once a time one might say you had 'feelings' for him. But it was nothing but a child's fancy. The man in front of you was no longer your childhood companion, no longer was he the trusted general of your father's armies, no longer the Kingdom's most valued hero. He was a murderer, a villain, a traitor. A suddenly occurred to you, that the tribes and chiefdoms that your father ordered him to raise to the ground, had known him long before you as only as that, an evil, wicked man.

"Do you know why I spared you?" he asks, the face of your childhood friend, corrupted with the blood of your kin.

You opened your mouth to answer. To tell him no, to tell him to go fuck himself, to make a morbid joke of him wanting to torture you in front of the kingdom. You weren't quite sure what you were going to say. But he cut you off, clearly not in the mood to discuss his internal plans.

"Because you are the key to peace and the price of war" he states, eyes drilling into yours. You stared back in confusion, he was never one for riddles.

" I have fought in countless battle, killed hundreds, caused pain to thousands, and what was it for? hmm? Nothing, not a single fucking thing" he spits, you try to step back, but he only inches closer.

"I was lied to, we were all lied to" he shouts, pointing to his men who stiffen as he does so. "we were told war is the maker of peace, we were told that for every life we take, every family we slaughter, our kingdom, our homeland would flourish. It was nothing but a filthy fucking lie."

He turns back to where he left his sword, leaning on your father's seat. He grabs it, and turns back to you.

"I was given this as a gift for my battles in the east, but it was not what was promised to me" he snarls, his arm lifting until the sword was pointed at you, he steps forward, the tip coming to rest under your chin.

"Your mother promised me you" he whispers, the anger from before shifting to desperation. His arm lowered and so did the sword.

"It was the one thing I asked for when I left for the front lines, that if I survived I would have your hand in marriage, as we had planned as children, as it should have always been. But your mother lied, told me that of course she would be honoured to have me as your husband if I came back a hero, but a soldier and a hero are not always the same. I did what I was told, killed all those who opposed us, and for what? A scrap of metal to be thrown at my feet because I was not noble enough? That unlike your family's spoiled brats, I actually fought along side my men? I didn't stand on some ridge over looking chaos and watch as if it was some sport?"

"They lied to me, about everything. Why we were fighting, why we were killing, why my soldiers had to die in a foreign land to a foreign hand. Peace we were told. It wasn't peace, it was greed. Now it is time for us to be greedy. It's time for us to make war to make peace. This land will be rid of those who sent us to war for scraps of metal and gold. And a new dawn, a new kingdom for the common people will be born. It's finally time for me to get what was promised to me, for all the shit I've been through, for all the blood I split, I finally will have you. And I will be the king this kingdom deserves"

You let go of a breath you didn't know you had.

"The kingdom will never accept you as king" you whisper, trying to swallow but only finding a parched mouth. "They will see you as nothing but a bloodthirsty tyrant"

He stares at you for a moment, until a deep chuckle fight past his lips. He laughs for a few moments, his silent statues of men begin cracking their façade and laugh along with him.

"Of course they will accept me. I'm the kingdom's valiant hero, who not only protected them from the eastern tribes, but rescued them from the tyranny of your parent's rule. You live a sheltered life your majesty, you know not of what is beyond the castle walls"

Your heart races. Surely your parent's were loved by all? They seemed to think so, hosting large parties and feasts in honour of the peasant and common folk. Yet you now only find it odd that your never truly saw common folk at these gathering, unless of course you count the servants.

The usurper king continues speaking.

"But suppose you are right, that there are some who would refuse to see me reign, well as you as my spouse, how could anyone refuse, after all you are the sole living survivor of your family, you are therefore the ruler of this kingdom, and with me as your king, none shall dare threaten us." he chuckles, a dark and violent sound.

"Any child of yours is the heir to the throne, and I intend to sire that child" his eyes gleam dangerously in the candle light of the hall.

You look down at your mother, kicked to the side, eyes open forever unseeing. For a moment you wished that you could lay down beside her one last time and be one with your family again, forever unseeing, yet forever out of reach of the usurper king's hands.

#yandere x reader #knight x princess #knight x prince #gender not mentioned #however implied at the end #yandere imagines #yandere drabble #yandere prompts #yandere #usurper king #inspired by #arcardie second born #asb #yandere x gn!reader #gn!reader #somewhat implied female reader #murder #tw violence

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gennyanydots · 1 year

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Forced to go to the strip club

Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x spitfire!wife

Part of the “Spitfire Universe”

Not necessary to read the other parts but helpful.

Summary: It’s Bob’s bachelor party and their babysitter cannot handle them. Reinforcements must be called in. Reinforcements are sleepy.

“Hello?” You say as you answer the phone sleepily. Who the fuck would be calling at this time? What time was it anyway? You went to bed way later than normal and you feel like you were pretty asleep so it’s got to at least be 2 in the morning or something.

“Is this Mrs. Hangman?” A male voice, that you don’t recognize, on the other line asks. You laugh at that. You didn’t realize when you married Jake you were actually gaining two new names instead of one. You were expecting Jake to be the one calling since his name came up on your phone when you looked for half a second before answering. Whoever this is must have gotten a hold of Jake’s phone somehow.

“Yes, this is she,” you say with a yawn.

“Hi, umm, this is Bob’s cousin. I was the designated babysitter tonight and umm I was told well uhhhh,” the man trails off, clearly trying to figure out how to describe whatever is happening to you.

“You were told what?” You ask. Tonight was Bob’s bachelor party. You figured that the squad would be getting into some sort of shenanigans, hence the need for a babysitter. You specifically didn’t ask any questions. You didn’t want to know. You also didn’t want to have to answer questions when you went out for the bachelorette party tomorrow night. So you knew literally nothing about what your husband and his friends were doing. Bob’s wife to be had come over along with Natasha and the three of you spent the evening watching trashy tv shows together while painting your nails and doing face masks to look your best for the tomorrow night. A girls night in before the girls night out. Plus, someone had to stay home with Eli and Radar. Jake’s on kids duty tomorrow.

The three of you ended up going to bed around midnight, way past your normal bedtime. Natasha passed out first on your couch before you lead Bob’s girl upstairs to the guest bedroom. Usually you try to go to bed at the same time as your son, you feel like you should have tonight since you knew he’d be up at 5 just like normal, only you would be the one getting up with him instead of Jake. You were not looking forward to that. Damn your husband for his early morning runs. You wish you would have taken Penny up on her offer to watch Eli tonight for you so you could have a stress free night in and a nice morning to sleep in tomorrow so you’re well rested for the fun.

“ Umm, you see, Bob told me earlier that if I uhh couldn’t umm,” the man trails off again. How long does this man expect this conversation to last? You have sleeping to do and you’re moving past being annoyed straight into being pissed off at this man.

You roll your eyes and huff, “Give the phone to Rooster.” You figure Bob’s cousin wouldn’t know who Bradley was if you used his real name. Bradley’s the easiest to distinguish from everyone else. Easy to spot.

“I don’t remember which one that is,” the man replies. Of course he didn’t. That would have been too easy for you.

You sigh, why did it have to be your husband doing something dumb, “Hawaiian shirt.”

“He’s drunk.” At a bachelor party? Shocking. You would have never guessed. You’re gonna lose it on this man. You really are.

“Yeah, I’m sure he is. He’ll at least tell me what’s going on without pussyfooting around so please hand the phone to the very tall man with a mustache wearing the obnoxious shirt before I start yelling at you and wake up my baby,” you say, very quickly losing your patience.

“Yes ma’am,” he says before you hear the background noise get louder until you hear Bradley say, “Why are you handing me a phone? I have my phone. It’s not mine!” to Bob’s cousin and then some mumbling.

Finally you hear Bradley say, “Hello?”

“Bradley,” you say.

“Hey! Hangman’s been talking about you! Hey Hangman! It’s your wife! Hi hangman’s wife. How are you? We miss you!” Bradley says, all a little too loudly.

You laugh, “Hi Bradley. I’m good. How are you? Miss you too.”

“I’m so good. I’m having so much fun. Not as much fun as your husband though.”

“How much fun is he having?” You ask.

“So much fun,” Bradley says laughing.

You roll your eyes, at least you’re getting farther than you had with Bob’s cousin. Bradley is at least answering you, “What’s he doing? Where are you guys?”

“He’s dancing on the stripper pole! Very badly. He’s bad at this. I’m sorry your husband can’t dance. I’ll teach him if you want. I’m surprised Coyote’s best friend is this bad at dancing,” Bradley says. You’re starting to hear a slur to his voice.

“It’s okay. He’s usually better when he’s not drunk like that,” you explain.

“He’s really, really drunk, me too, but he’s like bad really drunk. If he spins much more he’s gonna throw up. Gross. I don’t want to see that. We should have someone come get him,” Bradley says then you hear him gasp, “I should call his wife! She’ll come get him.”

You shake your head as you listen to him and wonder exactly how much alcohol is in his system, “I’ll come get him.”

“Oh my God did I call you with my mind?! I don’t remember calling you! I’m magic! I knew it!” Bradley says, excitedly.

“Sure Bradley, you’re magic. I need you to text me where you are so I can come get him, okay?” You ask.

“Okay. I gotta use my phone. This isn’t my phone. I don’t even know whose it is. The background is you and your son. Weird. That’s creepy. Honey, I think you have a stalker. I’ll protect you. Don’t worry. Nobody will get you or Eli on my watch. Uncle Rooster will protect you both!”

“My hero,” you say and yawn again. “Okay, Bradley take out your phone.”

You hear shuffling and then hear, “Okay. Done.”

“Good job. Now I need you to share your location with me.”

You hear a few taps then receive a notification from his phone then hear, “Boom! Crushed it!”

You laugh then smile, “Perfect. You did so good, Bradley. So proud. I’ll see you soon, okay? Don’t leave, none of you, until I get there. That poor man Bob put in charge did not sound like he had you all under control. Lord knows you’re all a handful and a half. Bye Bradley.”

“Bye bye!”

You hang up and stretch your arms over your head. This isn’t what you wanted to be doing. You wanted to sleep. You don’t want to go to a strip club to corral a group of drunk men, including your husband, and get them all to leave. This wasn’t your job. You weren’t on Dagger duty, and yet, here you were pulling on a pair of sweatpants and throwing on a sweatshirt to get in the car. Why wasn’t Pete babysitting? Unless he’s also there and drunk off his ass. Or maybe he’s sick of them after being with them all week and instead stayed home for some peace and quiet. Smart man.

You tiptoe into the guest bedroom and quickly but quietly wake the soon to be Mrs. Floyd to let her know what was happening. You couldn’t see well in the dark but you’re sure she rolled her eyes at the situation then held her hand out for the baby monitor. Thank goodness for friends who get it. You handed it to her with a quiet, “Thanks, I’ll be back soon! Hopefully.” before you quietly went down the stairs and slipped your feet into some flip flops.

You just grabbed your keys and wallet and stuck them in your hoodie pocket along with your phone. It felt weird not taking a diaper bag with you for once. You quietly went into your garage and open the door to get your car out. You really hope the noise doesn’t wake up Eli or Natasha who had still been snoring on the couch. You grab some water bottles from the garage fridge and toss them onto the front passenger seat as you get in your car and soon you’re on your way to the strip club. Thankfully it was only about 15 minutes from your house so it doesn’t take long for you to get there.

You park your car and climb out then head to the door. The bouncer looks at you funny but doesn’t question you as you hand him your ID. He checks it and hands it back as he tells you to have fun. You roll your eyes. Does it look like you’re there to have fun? You’re pretty sure your hair is a mess and you might even have pillow marks on your face still. If anything he probably thought you were some jealous wife coming down here in a blaze of fury but that’s not the case at all. You have no problem with strip clubs. You couldn’t care less that your husband is here. These women and some men potentially are just doing their job. Your only problem is you’re here when you want to be fast asleep. You’re pretty sure if the guys don’t immediately listen to you that the party is over that you’re going to have a full on temper tantrum. You’ve watched your toddler have enough of them so you’re basically an expert.

You look around and don’t find anyone who looks familiar. You spot a waitress and quickly walk over to her and ask where a bachelor party might be. She points you towards the VIP room and you thank her before heading in that direction.

There’s another bouncer in front of the door who stops you before you can enter and you just sigh, “Listen, you close in like a half an hour. It’s probably going to take me that long to round up all those guys in there and convince them it’s time to go home. Do you want to deal with their drunk asses and it take you three times as long for you to get them to listen or do you want me to do it and I’ll have them outta here in no time? Because if you want to then by all means go ahead. I’ll go back home and go back to sleep. My son is going to be up in like three hours. If you don’t want to then I’m gonna need you to let me through so I can collect them. I promise you I know them all. This is Robert Floyd’s bachelor party.”

The bouncer nods and holds the door open for you, “Yes ma’am. I apologize ma’am.”

You nod at him and walk in to a mess. There are guys everywhere. A couple you don’t know. One very scared looking man by the small bar. You assume that’s Bob’s cousin. You head over to the bartender, completely ignoring Bob’s cousin, and ask them to turn the room’s music off which they do as you stand on a chair you find. Once the musics off, immediately you hear a bunch of groans and hey’s and you roll your eyes. Whiny babies.

“Hey!” You yell to get their attention.

They all turn to look at you and you take the site in. Bob has a bra hanging from his neck and lipstick kisses on his cheek, you quickly take out your phone and snap a couple shots of that. Bradley’s Hawaiian shirt is inside out. Your husband is holding onto a stripper pole leaning backwards, couple pictures of that one too. Javy was getting a lap dance but the stripper stopped when you yelled, picture of that. Mickey was on Rueben’s back for some very odd reason, picture of that one. Logan and Billy were seated on a couch, double fisting some beers. And both Brigham and Neil have their heads down at the bar and you took a picture of that too. The men you don’t know were all scattered about amongst the others. You honestly expected worse but it didn’t sound like Bob’s cousin could handle anything worse.

When the men all see you there are excited shouts.

“Hangman! That’s your wife!”

“Baby!”

“Mom’s here!” (That one made you roll your eyes but you’re not surprised)

“Oh no! We got caught!”

“I know you!” (Yes Logan, you two have met many times.)

You shake your head at the lot of them.

You put a single finger to your lips until they all quiet down, “Okay, here’s what’s going to happen. We’re going to do this step by step.”

The men all nod at you. Good. You didn’t feel like dealing with any defiant little assholes.

“First! Whatever dollar bills you brought with you for tonight need to be given to the nice ladies who took their clothes off for you. And you’re going to thank them for their time. Bob give back the bra.”

Bob immediately blushed bright red and the men all proceeded to follow your directions, even making sure to thank them. One man walked up to you and held his money out and you shook your head, “Not me you dumbass.” You pointed him towards one of the strippers and sighed, these guys are going to have to make it up to you. You’re taking an extra long nap tomorrow and someone had been watch your son. You feel something around your waist and look down to see your husband has wrapped his arms around you.

“Good job, now number two, you’re going to all cash out at the bar. Get your cards back. We’re not leaving our credit cards here. Make sure you tip,” you say gesturing to the bar.

Jake reluctantly lets you go before following your directions. This step takes them all a while and you end up sitting down on the chair until the bartender gives you a thumbs up and Jake is back to standing as close to you as he possibly can.

You stand back up and your husband wraps his arms back around you, “Okay third step, look around you for trash. If there are cups take them to the bar-“

The bartender interrupts you, “We can handle that. Don’t worry. It’s our job.” You shoot him a glare and he immediately holds his hands up in surrender and says sorry.

“- Like I was saying, if there are cups take them to the bar. If there’s trash there’s a trash can in the corner. We aren’t leaving this place a mess.”

The men all get to work quickly and it doesn’t take long before everything is picked up and vaguely looking clean. To get Jake to listen this time you had to push him off you and point at some trash before he sighed and picked it up and threw it away then returned to his spot.

“Fourth step, make sure you have your wallet, phone, and keys and/or anything else you brought with you. Like a sweatshirt or a hat.”

Everyone immediately starts patting their pockets and nodding. You tap Jake’s shoulder to get him to let go then sit back down and turn to Bob’s cousin, “What was the plan for afterwards. Are they going somewhere? Is there a way to get them to wherever?”

Bob’s cousin shrugged, “We rented a limo to get here and I think the plan was to Uber back to wherever you were staying for the night.”

You shake your head at him, “You think or you know? You’re the worst babysitter. You should know the plan.”

Bob’s cousin hangs his head and apologizes.

You look around before finding Bob and quickly yell his name, gesturing for him to come over to you.

“Hi, Mzzz Hangman. Whass zup?” He says slurring this words.

“What are you doing after this?” You ask.

He scrunches his face for a minute or so before going, “Oh! Theresssa limo to take us to tha hotel and then we go to sleep and then brunch and then more sleep at homes.”

You laugh listening to him, “Thanks. Knew I could count on you.”

Bob beams at the praise.

You stand back up, once again Jake holds onto your legs, “Fifth step, nicely walk out to the limo and get in to go back to the hotel. Mr. Competent over here,” you point to Bob’s cousin, “Will give you further instructions when you accomplish that. I better get a good report for him or I’m gonna be mad at you all!”

That ones followed by most of the men saying a quick, “Yes ma’am.” before they started their journey to the parking lot.

You stop at the little bar and leave Bob’s phone number with them in case anything gets left behind.

You follow after the others and stop at the limo to make sure they’re all accounted for, which they are, except one. You look over at your car and see Jake leaning against it with his hands in his pockets.

You turn to Bob’s cousin, “Do not lose them. Have them drink water. Get them straight to their rooms. They should all pass out. I’m taking mine with me so you have one less. You’re lucky.” You turn to the others, “Be good! I want a good report saying you were on your best behavior!” You’re answered with a bunch of giggles as you pat the top of the limo and shut the door.

You unlock your car and watch Jake scramble into the passenger seat. You laugh and walk over, getting into the driver seat, “Did you think I wouldn’t let you come home?”

He shook his head and pouts, “I don’t wanna play with my friends anymore. I want my wife. I want to sleep in my own bed. I want my puppy. I want my baby.”

You laugh and lean over to kiss his cheek, “My poor, sweet husband, forced to go out and spend time with his friends. Didn’t have any fun. Definitely didn’t enjoy getting drunk and seeing mostly naked women.”

His mouth breaks out into a goofy grin, “That was nice but I would much rather see you mostly naked because then I could just make you the rest of the way naked.”

You laugh and shake your head, “Okay, let’s go home. If you want your baby so much you can get up with him.”

Jake perks up, “I can?! I miss him! We’re gonna play so much!”

“You say that now. When he wakes up in two and a half hours you’re going to be so sleepy,” you say as you start the car and start driving home.

Jake shrugs, “Worth it. I’m sleeping with the baby monitor. I’m getting up with my baby. I don’t care what sleepy Jake says. I promise I’m getting up.”

And surprisingly that’s exactly what sleepy Jake did in three hours when your son woke up. How nice of him to sleep in a half hour.

The bachelorette party

#jake hangman seresin x reader #hangman x reader #spitfire universe #jake hangman x female reader #jake seresin x f!reader

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greythemed · 1 year

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𓂃 ♥︎ⴰ bloodhounds . kim gun-woo

˚ TITLE 𓂃 ♥︎ⴰ how is like to date gun-woo part two ˚ WORD COUNT 𓂃 ♥︎ⴰ 1770

dating gun-woo consists of you being a lightweight while he has the best alcohol tolerance in the group, consequently making him your babysitter for the rest of the night no matter how much he drinks (this man's tolerance is no joke, we saw it on episode seven).

he IS the type of boyfriend who spoils you like there is no tomorrow. gun-woo is so detached when it comes to money that soon after winning a pay-per-view match (it was his first one after being officially sponsored by your father!) he was ready to deposit the whole freaking 3 billion wones on your account like that was NORMAL.

"but babe, you don't want it?🥺" he says once he is out of the ring, innocent eyes rising accordingly to your patience. "you can buy whatever makes you happy 'cause i want to see you happy". and you're like "NO GUN-WOO YOU CAN'T SPEND YOUR ENTIRE MONEY ON ME". and he be like. "yes i can????".

honestly we should navigate more of that. gun-woo knows the value of money in this world, he knows that it can change some people's lives. but he never once did something to get money for himself. he was always running and fighting for his mother, her café, her safety and her dreams. so when everything was over and he caught himself with a pile of gold in his hands (he helped his mom and there was still much money left!), he didn't know what to do and how to spend it.

that's when you came through and saved gun-woo's life. because again he has something to spend money with, and someone to spoil.

it doesn't matter if you're rich already (your dad is a ceo and you just became a doctor by yourself!), gun-woo's love language is buying you food whenever he goes out. it is your birthday? expect numerous gifts throughout the entirety of the day. he caught you eyeing something in a store for a little more than 4 seconds? boom! new package arriving at your door the following day.

and that goes even before he became a well-known pro-fighter in korea. when he still was only your cousin's friend that min-beom suspiciously kept by his side during difficult times. he wasn't that big on money, you could tell that, but he still was trying to get your attention by buying different snacks on his way to your home.

HE LOVES HIS PILLOW PRINCESS.

each type of gun-woo's hugs has a different meaning and he is so happy that you caught that in the early stages of your relationship. this six feet tall man is hugging you from behind while you're innocently staring at his penthouse's living room's view? that means he's feeling vulnerable and in need of some of your love.

when you feel his arms enveloping your waist and his lips leaving a kiss on your ear? you already know he is feeling excited enough to express his love for you in many different ways.

gun-woo is a loveable person at the end of the day. he needs some validation from time to time and will get clingy if you don't express your feelings for a while. that causes some agitation in your relationship, including arguments about the different love languages both of you have.

sometimes, you think gun-woo is too honest about certain things. the fact that he wears his heart on his sleeve while being a war trunk makes him incredibly dangerous. how do you expect to act around your gorgeous boyfriend while he is a softie on the inside and you know it? you have no option left but to act like a slut.

he points that out someday when you are both alone. "baby, are you okay? you are staring weirdly at me for the past 30 minutes and i'm getting worried".

and you cannot react, otherwise, you'd be ruining your family dinner and jumping that man's bones in the middle of the fancy restaurant while everyone's watching.

even when he is in desperate need of some affection, he doesn't want to disturb you. he doesn't know how this works in the long run, after all. he doesn't feel confident enough to say that out loud. that he needs you at that moment. so you'll have to get pretty good at reading his signs, especially his eyes.

woo-jin's knowledge comes in handy in times like these.

like the first time you met his mother (you were his first ever girlfriend, so he wanted her to like you too!) and he was staring at her the entire afternoon at the café with so much anxiety coming out of him that you had to drag him to the bathroom so he could calm down.

he had the habit of clenching his jaw when he was anxious. "it's okay, baby, i'm gonna be fine, i'm sure she is lovely". you tried to reason with the boxer, constantly having to cup his jaw so he could relax. "i'm sorry, i'm just apprehensive". he replied with those puppy eyes that you'd immediately pout for.

everything went smoothly with his mother and she even made a special dish for you that day! but the second you're alone in your room that night you call woo-jin and ask for some advice on how to deal with your boyfriend's anxieties because who else would know about that other than his marine best friend?!

i'm not done talking about this man's alcohol tolerance because is SO FUCKING SEXY AND FOR WHAT?! i swear on that scene in episode seven, my eyes were glued on the screen every time he took a sip like sir please be my boyfriend????

and even woo-jin was surprised it was so funny to me.

so expect your first club night outs (honestly, gun-woo just came because you asked him nicely) to be completely HORROR for the boxers. the second you started drinking, woo-jin and gun-woo didn't take their eyes off you because they KNOW how YOUR alcohol tolerance is almost non-existent but still you want to have a good time.

like "NO Y/N YOU SHOULDN'T PISS ON A BURNING TO TAKE THE FIRE DOWN BC ITS EASIER". and woo-jin would be SO done with you all the time, glaring at gun-woo every time you said something stupid. he'd be like "this is your phd doctor girlfriend???". and send a dirty look to his best friend.

and on the rare occasions where you don't feel like drinking you can't help but stare intensively at gun-woo's adam's apple bobbing every time he takes a sip from the soju bottle woo-jin challenged him to take (it was indeed a rare occasion) because WHY WAS HE SO HOT?!

and then finishing with the most polite smile and the glossiest eyes you've ever seen like IT WAS NOTHING?!?!?

he looked at you asking what was wrong and you would turn nonverbal for the next 30 seconds before kissing him in front of the bar AND WOO-JIN

nsfw under 😳😳😳

hear. me. out.

at first, gun-woo wasn't the most speaker in bed because - let's be honest - the boy is timid. but the second he sees your reaction when he accidentally lets a whimper slip from his mouth one day, a whole key is turned inside the boxer's brain.

when you're riding him, he entwines your fingers with his, placing kisses on your wrist, your palm or wherever possible and just breathing "you're going to make me lose my goddamn mind, fuck".

you get high from watching him orgasm and vice-versa.

when he comes back up from between your thighs for a breather, for example, his eyes notice your clutched hands at your sides, nails digging into your palm - because he pays attention to every little detail you let it slide, you already know that - and he wasn't having it. leaning down to continue from where he left off, he takes your hands in his and places them on his head, a gesture telling you to just pull his hair already.

this man is timid but he's also a romantic. when i tell you gun-woo needs confirmation from you whenever you are together, i mean at sexy times as well. the moment you start to feel too level-headed and too euphoric and close your eyes, he is fast to turn your attention to his voice so he could guide you.

"no, no look at me baby—keep 'em open. need you to see me, ye?". he grunts and your eyes flicker open once again, obediently following his rules, giving him the eye contact he so desperately craves.

there is a thing we need to talk about gun-woo sizing you up for the first time.

when the realization dawns on you, your eyes almost roll to the back of your head. gun-woo was sliding his length past your clit and up your stomach so far that his balls press against your core. he said it was for 'safety purposes' when you caught him doing it, embarrassment evident on his flaming cheeks and stuttering mouth.

but the second time he does it? you were feral, almost coming right then and there. essentially, he was trying to see just how far in he was going to be, just how deep he was going to fuck you and you clenched so hard around nothing that you had to slap him to stop.

"you can't just do this, gun-woo!". you wanted to curse. "s-sorry", he was caught again, but now not a single drop of shame adorning his features. by the looks of it, he was smirking.

cursing? let's talk about that.

you knew you dated an angel so to speak. but the whole angelic persona gun-woo carried on his daily basis was left at the door when he was alone with you. cursing? he did on rare occasions, maybe when woo-jin went too far with a joke about his mother or when he pressed his little finger on the car door while rushing to the gym.

but never with you.

so imagine your surprise when the first string of 'fucks' slipped past this man's lips when he entered you for the very first time. and then the constant self-control he needs to collect when you are too far in orgasmland and whisper dirty things in his ears.

"feel too full woo", you moan absentmindedly and gun-woo lets out a heavy breath, dropping his head down so your foreheads can touch.

"god—fuck—you can't say shit like that, princess". he warns.

i began to pass out and my head hit the wall boom!

i am not proud of this one (sorry for any misspellings, this is not proofread!) and i'm sorry for ending this here hahahahahah leaving y'all dry and wanting because that's what life is about!!! (suffering) THANK YOU ALL FOR THE KIND WORDS YOU GUYS ARE THE LOVELIEST <33

#honestly i dont deserve such kind readers! thx #kim geun woo x reader #kim gun woo #bloodhounds fanfic #bloodhounds #bloodhounds kdrama #bloodhounds x reader #bloodhounds netflix #woo do hwan

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kimhargreeves · 1 year

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Firefly-Hotaru Haganezuka x Reader

Summary: You've arrived at the Swordsmith village. There you are desperately trying to find Haganezuka but he keeps avoiding you, since you broke your sword, soon you realize he's also been avoiding you for a different reason.

It's been about two years and a half since I became a Hashira. In my time as one of the Pillars I came across many demons, good and bad, I would get injured a lot often than I would've liked to but it's part of the job. Though, not only I would take damage but my sword as well.

As soon as my sword would be broken I would have it repaired without question, though lately I got a very threatening letter from my swordsmith.

I clenched onto it and got weirded out by all the cussing and not so readable other letters if was spread across. I sighed and decided to take matters into my own hand, to go to the village myself.

Unfortunately I would not be able to head on my own since the village is hidden and I would have to be blindfolded and carried all the way there. God knows how long the trip was going to take.

"So, tell me who is your Swordsmith?!" The female Kakushi who was carrying me asked. We had been talking for a while.

"Mr Haganezuka! Thought I don't know if he'll want to make another sword for me."

At the mention of his name I felt the female Kakushi tense. "H-He's your Swordsmith?! I do hope he doesn't kill you."

"There's no way he'll kill someone like me!" I exclaim and held my cheeks and blushed. I began to remember the first and few times we had met up with each other, when I first became a Demon Slayer.

"(Y/N), your Swordsmith is here." My master the one who taught me all about slaying demons said picking me up from my room since I was resting since I was all bruised with a broken rib due to my training.

I quickly got myself up on my feet and met up with my master in the backyard garden and saw a tall man hiding his face.

"Mr. Haganezuka this is (Y/N). (Y/N), this is the man who from now on will forge your swords-"

"That depends is she won't be a brat and break my precios swords."

"Huh?" Both my Master and I hummed and were taken back when Haganezuka all of the sudden stared at us and pointed at me with his finger then at the sword.

I blushed under the man's gaze, unsure is he was indeed glaring at me. "This sword was made with the best minerals I could find closest to the sun and made with rich-"

Wow is this man dedicated at making swords, and telling how they're made in detail. "Great! So tell me what to do!" I clapped my hands together and realized we were alone since my Master probably went to fetch something for Haganezuka to eat.

"Grab it the sword. Depending on the color is reveals your sword will be strong or weak."

"I don't believe in such things since the Slayer must be the powerful one, sure the blade helps but-" I shut my mouth when I felt his eyes on me as if telling me to shut up.

I decided to not say anything further on and instead grabbed the sword and held it in my hands, it changed almost nothing, just a light silver colored almost white. I jumped up when Haganezuka let out a scream saying how dull and not interesting the color was.

"Haganezuka calm yourself down." My Master said not fazed by his sudden outburst.

That was the first time I had met him….

"So you're a Hashira now?" Haganezuka calmly said setting my new sword down and handing it to me.

I nodded my head smiling, "Yes, i didn't expect it to happen but it did. I fought a strong upper demon. I swore to protect those less stronger than me, besides, I just found out I have a cousin who just started his demon slaying practice."

"Congratulations. Though don't get so confident just because your a Hashira now." I watched Haganezuka unveil the new and beautiful sword.

I held it up and examined how beautifully it was made. "Though my fighting skills wouldn't have been impressive without your swords, this will surely scare the demons. Thank you Mr. Haganezuka."

I bowed my head and raised it back up and saw him staring at me through the odd mask, he said nothing.

"Though this'll be the last time I'll do it! This if the fourth swords I made and it can't get any better than this." He threatened.

I started to remember my Masters words and the one of the other Swordsmith. "Haganezuka is an awful temper, if things were to get out of hand, tickle his sides."

I hummed at the memory of those words but decided to say nothing and I smiled at him.

"And what are you smiling for?!"

"Oh nothing!" I sang.

I reached out and grabbed a bento I did with mitarashi dango since I've seen Haganezuka is a fan of it. "Here, I did these for you!"

I held out the box and saw Haganezuka open the box and examine it. "I've seen you always enjoy it, and don't want you leaving on an empty stomach."

I was taken back when I saw light bubbles coming from out of the mask. What the hell?? I commented against it and smiled.

"Why not eat just one here?!" I suggested wanting to see behind the mask. I carefully reached out and lifted the mask just a bit and I felt him gripping the wrist tightly, slowly not applying pressure.

"Quit it Hashira! if you know what's best for you, get working and quit minding other's business." Haganezuka huffed and started walking away.

The next time I had seen Haganezuka was when I was leaving for another mission and stumbled upon Tanjiro Kamado. I have heard from him before, Giyu was the one who informed me of him and his demon sister Nezuko.

They intrigued me especially since I had learned that they are my long distance cousins. I had written to Tanjiro once congratulating him when I learned he passed the exam.

When I was still a little girl I was adopted to a family, since my real parents were killed by demons trying to protect me and their village. I don't remember anything about them but I am grateful that I was adopted into a loving home. Unfortunately, they were also taken away from me. But now I'm happy to know that I have a bit of family left.

"Hello Tanjiro!" I exclaimed smiling at the dark red haired boy.

"(Y/N)! I received your letter. Thank you your words were if help!" I smiled at the boys enthusiasm.

"We only have each other left, might as well keep encouraging each other's work." I said giving him a thumbs up and I looked over and saw Haganezuka with another Swordsmith.

"Haganezuka!" I cheered and saw him flinch at my sudden shout. "Long time no see, I guess I'm always lucky that I run into you." I laughed and saw the man looking away from me and murmuring something at his partner.

Tanjiro looked at me then Haganezuka. "You both know each other?" He asked tilting his head.

"No"

"Yes we do!" I said ignoring Haganezuka's words as I blushed. "Anyway I have a long missions ahead of me. See you later." I gave a peace sign to Tanjiro and Haganezuka and started running off to my mission.

"I genuinely think he's a great and kind man despite being so loud and frightening at times." I recalled as the Kakushi continued to carry me.

"I do hope you are right, Miss (Y/N)." Anyways we are here."

The Kakushi placed me on my feet and I began to unwrap the bandage around my eyes and I stared in awe at the village in front of me.

"Wow it's so beautiful!" I gasped.

The Kakushi next to me chuckled and bowed her head. "Glad to know it exceeded your expectations. I hope for us to meet in the future once more."

"The pleasure has been all mine." I smiled and bowed my head as well.

I kept staring at everywhere the further I began to walk into the village. I saw many people working and kids playing around, I still wonder why they keep hyotokko masks on their faces. I started walking towards where I assume is the chiefs place, I walked up the stairs and was greeted by two men in masks and they took me in to see the chief.

I patiently waited for the man to speak when I saw knelt down on the tatami floor. "Miss (Y/N). I had been expecting you, young lady."

I hummed and bowed my head down the floor and greeted myself to him. "It's an honor to meet you Chief Tecchin!"

"My what manners and dedication. You remind me of the young boy that came earlier today."

"Boy?" I ask raising my head back up.

The man nodded his head, despite the small stature I could tell he is highly respected here and he looks sorta cute too.

"He had a green and black haori with hanafuda earrings."

So that means Tanjiro is here as well. "I assume you are here for Haganezuka am I correct?"

"Yes, sir. You see Tanjiro is my cousin and we both were assigned to Haganezuka. My sword broke easily this time though it was my fault for-"

"No. It wasn't your fault, he didn't forge a sword with his best intentions which is why it breaks easily." The man said in a serious voice. He suddenly got scary like Haganezuka.

"I-I don't think-"

"We'll give him a beating for not working correctly and denying to make a sword for a lady as yourself." The man next to the Chief said with the Chief eagerly nodding his head.

So scary.

"Where is he anyways?" I asked wanting to see Haganezuka.

"Hotaru has run off as of lately. Wanting to be alone as usual." The Chief told me.

"Hotaru? Is that his first name?" I ask intrigued to know a bit more about him.

"Mhm I picked it myself! Though Hotaru doesn't like his name saying it's to cute for a man like him."

"I think it's such a cute and lovely name." I blushed and held my face together. Firefly. That's what his name means. Though he surely isn't as fragile as one.

"Happy to know someone else agrees with me. I adopted the boy when he was just a child."

I sat just a bit closer paying attention to his words and finding myself wanting to see Hotaru again. So we have more in common that I thought. He also lost his parents like me.

"Did Hotaru lose his parents as well?"

The Chief stared at me and shook his head. "Nope. His parents couldn't keep up with his anger so I took him as my own."

Oh damn. My body froze since I didn't expect that.

"You did lose yours did you not? Do you have any memories of them?

I stared down at my lap and back at the Chief to show respect. "Unfortunately I don't have any memories of them. All that I know if that they protected the village they had been living and everyone was massacred by a demon, I believe it was Muzan Kibutsuji."

"You are (Y/N) (L/N) are you not? I remember your parents, they were a part of this village you see. Your father was born here and while trusting outside he met your mother, she agreed to move to the village with him but over time they left, you were born here (Y/N). That means that this is your home as well and you are welcome to stay for as long as you'd like."

I stared at the Chief surprised that he knew both my parents. A few years escaped from my eyes and I cleaned them with the sleeve of my haori and thanked the Chief to telling me all he knew about my parents.

"You are more than welcome to also enjoy of our hot springs. It can heal any wound or broken heart." The Chief sang and moved his hands around.

What does he mean by that?

"If Hotaru isn't seen in a day or two I'll be more than happy to assign a new swordsmith for you." The man said bowing his head. He's the one who made Shinobu's sword.

"I understand." I frowned not wanting to have a new person making my sword, but I have to put my feelings aside and be focused on my mission, to get a new sword done.

"Follow me." I bowed my head to chief Tecchin and followed one of masked men who was with him.

I silently started to follow him and noticed the sky was turning darker as well. "Do you wish to eat first or take a bath?"

"Bath is fine since I feel filthy." Though being in a bath while eating sounds like a great idea.

"Is there something bothering you?" I glanced at the masked man.

"It's about Hotaru isn't it?"

I flinched and froze when we stopped by a few stairs and I felt his eyes on me. "You're worried that a new swordsmith might not make your sword as you want to."

"..Right..of course." I breathed out thankful that he doesn't know the real reason.

"Well, the hot springs is just above the stairs. You're more than welcome to take your time and join us for dinner once you are finished." The man bowed his head and started to leave.

I heard a familiar caw and felt my crow land on my shoulder. "Might as well relax for a bit right" I asked and saw my crow flap it's wings when I began to climb up the stairs.

I felt like my legs were about to give up. I started to take my belt off along wiith my haori and began to unbutton my uniform when I heard another caw from my crow.

"Don't worry I won't take long, there's no one here anyways. You really are a hungry bird." I sighed glaring at the bird and beginning to undress myself completely until I was bare and submerged myself further into the hot waters.

"Food always tastes better while eating with someone else."

I nod along to Tanjiro's words. Right after taking a bath I arrived to meet up with Tanjiro and Nezuko. I hadn't realized that Mitsuri was here as well until Tanjiro told me about it, Shinazugawa's younger brother was also at the village.

"Indeed. So are you saying that you also came here for a sword?"

"Mr. Haganezuka seems to be avoiding me." Tanjiro pouted.

Glad to know I'm not the only one thinking about it. "Don't worry we can both go looking for him. I'm sure he isn't far off from the village."

I noticed Tanjiro's stare on me and looked at him surprised when I saw a blush on his face. "You've always spoken fond of Mr. Haganezuka. Is there maybe-"

"I just feel high admiration for his work! Nothing more!" I blushed as well and tried brushing the topic off.

Can't believe I'm having this conversation with someone younger than me. I continued to rambled on, "Besides as slayers we can't get close to people."

"I disagree!" Tanjiro exclaimed earning a hum from his sister. "That's what makes life beautiful as well, meeting new people and forming a close bond."

I smiled at Tanjiro and nodded once. "Seems like Kyojuro taught you well." I sadly said remembering my best friend.

"Tomorrow morning let's train and go out bets then." I gave him a thumbs up and earned a nod from him and Nezuko.

****"

The next morning Tanjiro and I met up with s boy from the village, Kotetsu, and the mist Hashira, Muichiro Tokito. As Hashira we have encountered with each other many times, but he doesn't seem to remember me that much or talk at all only when necessary.

Muichiro was aggressive and broke down the ancient doll the village boy had in his possession. The three of us fixed it up a bit and I let Tanjiro train with the doll since I had fought with it but was extremely hard.

The doll was designed after the first demon slayer. If fighting the doll was hard enough, I couldn't imagine fighting him in the flesh. I decided to stay with Tanjiro just for a bit, to cheer him on.

I made Tanjiro stand up straight in a certain position and hold the wooden katana he had right. The young masked boy gasped when Tanjiro was swept to it's feet and was knocked out. I was nearby going over back to Tanjiro when I heard a familiar voice.

Is that Hotaru?!

I began to quicken my pace and run over calling out his name. I noticed the young boy turn around looking at me in a panic and I saw Haganezuka's tall figure running fast away from us.

"Haganezuka! Come back here you coward." I shouted and stared at the direction he left and pouted.

I clenched my fists together and glared at where he left, also feeling a bit heartbroken that he didn't face me. I moved quickly to look at the masked boy, Kotetsu.

"You! Why didn't you say anything?!" The boy shrieked when he saw my cold expression.

"I-I don't know what you mean Hashira!" He shouted back.

"I lowered down a bit and glared at the boy and pointing at him, "I've told you my name is (Y/N)!"

The boy looked back at me and said nothing, "(Y/N)…right no wonder I've heard the name before. Mr. Haganezuka has spoken about you."

Tilting my head to the side I could notice Kotetsu muttering something to himself and a blush across the mask. Is everyone is this village weird?

"Good things I hope." I huffed and decided to go back and help Tanjiro up to his feet. "Anyways there's no time for me to be chasing that childish man, better help Tanjiro back up."

I helped Tanjiro up and gave him at least a sip of water since Kotetsu refused to give him any. "Ready to do this Tanjiro?"

My cousin Tanjiro was weak but he refused to give up. I gave him a thumbs up and watched Tanjiro begin to continue training.

#hotaru haganezuka #demon slayer #swordsmith village arc #kimetsu no yaiba #haganezuka x reader #tanjiro x genya #nezuko kamado #demon slayer genya #mitsuri kanroji

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tange-my-rine · 7 months

Text

find yourself (and me) || Tangerine x trans male!reader

Summary: You knew Tangerine well, you'd fallen in love with the guy. But when a mission goes wrong and you fake your death, he can't know a word of it. And when you finally transition after years of wishing, you can hardly even imagine running into him again. If you thought you might, you'd run the opposite way. But fate had different plans.

Request by @random-thoughts-004.

TW: mention of deadname (it's like your codename but like still), fake death, grief, blood, wounds, murder, guns, knives, scars, cursing (it's Tangerine), and all things bullet train.

[[A/N: Thanks for my first request !!! I hope I did it justice! Enjoy this slowburn and kinda angst riddled oneshot. Reader's first codename is Butterfly. Second is Beetle. (You work with Ladybug's agency.) ]]

The first time you met Tangerine was one of your first jobs ever. You remember it so well because well, the twins made it memorable. They made everything memorable, you'd come to realize but not now.

It was a gala, and you were dressed well -fancy even, with hair perfectly in place and shiny fabric cascading.

The job was an easy one, getting your feet wet and whatnot; not that you hadn't wanted the harder ones, it was just like a test run for your agency -seeing if you could do it. Which, with your experience, was kind of ridiculous but you didn't want to get into it right now.

All you needed was information from a man, some sort of billionaire -you weren't honestly sure. The location of someone else, his brother... cousin? You knew his name and that was all that mattered.

You finished your drink, and with a walk that could kill, you made your way to the floor. He was talking to some men (tall with bleached tips, and another one broad shoulders with a mustache), but you simply pushed yourself through.

His eyes, naturally, rested on you, and you used it toward your advantage.

"Hi," you smiled over the rim of your glass, fluttering your eyelashes for good measure, "-do you mind if I interrupt? I've been dying to talk to you all day."

The man, Richard you remembered, smiled smoothly, "'Course, honey. We can always pick up this conversation later."

With a glance toward the men, you pushed your arm into his and began walking away.

You had felt the eyes boring into your back at the time, but you didn't think anything of it. You probably should have, but to be fair this was a test run, was it not?

The man guided you to a balcony, empty with the night sky and stars twinkling. You would've thought it was pretty, if you didn't have an objective.

"Name's Richard," he spoke, still close by your side, "-what's yours, sweetheart?"

Swallowing the bile in your mouth (he really wasn't your type), you smirked -playfully, trailing your fingers onto his upper arm, "I prefer to be a mystery to the men I meet, Richard."

He grinned, it was working well, "I'm not the first then?"

The rest of your conversation was much of the same, low chats about things that didn't really matter -hobbies, jobs, etc. And when you casually mentioned family, it was smooth sailing.

"Got a cousin visiting one of my houses down in Miami, but I haven't seen the rest in years."

You weaseled out the name, and with a cunning smile, went to refill your drink. He'd said he'd have someone do it for you, but you said something about 'clingy already?' and his masculinity came in check.

Your job was done. You were 30 minutes from getting home, out of these heels, and watching your favorite show with the emptiness of your apartment. These kinds of crowds were exhausting, you needed it.

That was until hands shot out of a closet and pulled you in so fast you couldn't even scream-

"What the hell?"

The light was on, thank god, as you took in the man. He was broad shoulders from before, dressed in a fancy suit -three piece, with curly gelled back hair and blue eyes. Oh, and the mustache. He was your type.

You shimmied out of his grip, pushing yourself to the farthest wall, "What are you doing?! You can't just pull women into closets-"

"Who fuckin' sent you?" He uttered out, harsh and brash -british accent, your mind noted.

"Sent me?" You played dumb, "-This is a gala, I was invited, prick."

"Don't fuckin' lie to me," he hissed, pulling out a gun and suddenly, this was all very real.

"Jesus Christ," you raised your hands, "-why the hell does it matter?"

"You're after my hit," he clarified, like it was fact -pushing the gun further into your face.

"Yeah, no," you laughed, "-my job here was information. I literally just talked to him, if you paid any attention to your surroundings-"

"Awfully snappy for someone with a fuckin' gun in your face," he retorted, but you could tell that his frustration had significantly lessened.

"Shoot me then," you egged on, "-lose your cover, and your target, and shoot me."

His mouth flattened, eyes hardening, as the realization slipped over his features; you loved being right.

Gotcha.

With the speed of a snail, he lowered his gun -jaw muscle flexing. You could tell he was pissed that you were right. This was fun, you would've stayed all night to get on his nerves, if this dress didn't make you feel like your skin was peeling off.

In very different circumstances, you would've been glad to be trapped in a closet with him. But, we can't always get what we want, can we?

Without another word, you slipped out of the closet and made your way to the door. And when you got home you scrubbed your skin clean until the flowery scent of your perfume went away (it made you sick), but that was nobody's business but your own.

The second time you met him was very different. Your job was a hit, a CEO of some fancy business -you didn't really care. You'd posed as some meeting for him -after hours, it was actually really simple to get this guy alone.

Anyway, you had just shot a bullet through his head when the door came crashing open -easily, you switched targets.

Instead of some innocent, however, it was the man -still wearing a three piece suit and the same mustache. He wore it well though, so you couldn't blame him.

"Not you again," you groaned.

"What the hell are you doin' 'ere?" He replied eyes scrunched and eyebrow raised.

"My job?" You answered, still pointing the gun at him without hesitation.

He raised his hands, begrudgingly, and looked you over, "You 'ere for a hit?"

You kicked the body at your feet, sarcastically, "Ya think?"

His eyes flicked down to the man, before back up to you, "Lucky for you, I'm just 'ere for a drive. You let me go, we call it even?"

You pursed your lips, tilting your head to the side -thinking on it, "Fine, but if I see you again it's fair game."

"Can't fuckin' wait, love," he remarked, and you honestly weren't sure if it was all sarcasm. Huh.

"Butterfly," you said as an introduction.

He furrowed his brows for a moment before a wave of understanding crossed over his face, "Tangerine."

Needless to say, you left that building laughing your ass off.

The next time after that you met Lemon, and then suddenly you were a trio. You switched agencies and were constantly partnered for missions, and even when you weren't, they'd follow you and keep an eye out for you. Even when you told them that you could handle it, they still showed up (Lemon always blamed Tangerine).

You don't know when Tangerine started shifting in your head -from friend to... something else. A scary something else. But you think it started here.

You were in a safe house, one you'd crashed in a lot actually. An apartment in the city with three bedrooms and a fancy kitchen, you could picture it as a home if you thought about it long enough. Couldn't see it without Tangerine and Lemon anymore though.

It was late, and you were watching some late-night reruns of a show you'd never seen -it was some sort of love triangle, and you somehow already had a favorite actually. You couldn't sleep, it was just something in your head -nightmares. You had close calls before and tonight was one of them; you wanted to be alive a little bit longer because of it.

"Hey," the voice interrupted your haze, drawing your attention to your right.

It was Tangerine, he was wearing normal clothes -baggy sweatpants and a t-shirt with his hair ungelled (you were still getting used to it). Blue eyes flickered across you, he could read you really well -you hated it.

He didn't ask if you were okay, didn't have to he knew, just sat by your side on the couch -you offered him some blanket. He took it, closer into your side than he was before -it made your head spin just a little. You figured because you hadn't been so close to someone in so long.

Before you could stop yourself, you started talking, "You ever think about what your life would be like if we didn't do what we do?"

It was sleepy coming out of your mouth, slightly slurred, but still genuine. You always got a little talkative around him, you weren't sure entirely why.

Tangerine deflected, blue eyes fuzzy over your face (you weren't looking at him), "Do you?"

"Yeah," you muttered, low and quiet, "-all the time."

"What would you do?" he asked, and he was genuine -you could always tell when he wanted to listen.

"I think..." you started, trying to decide your words, "- I think I'd want to be married. Is that stupid?"

"'s not stupid, love," he spoke, soft with his gruff sleep voice.

"It'd be nice, I think," you hummed, perhaps saying too much but you didn't care then, "-forever with one person. With this job, you're always alone. Jumping from place to place, partner to partner. I think it'd be nice to have somebody who was always there."

Tangerine didn't say a word.

"The real question is if I'm marriable," you laughed, "-do you think I have enough positive characteristics for someone to marry me, Tan?"

It was kind of a joke, and you expected him to respond that way. He didn't.

"Yeah," he whispered, dead serious, "-I do."

You were taken aback a little bit, something unfurling in your chest that you hadn't quite named yet but you knew it now, "You think so?"

He wrapped an arm around your shoulder and pulled you closer -your head settling on his shoulder without hesitation. You stayed that way for a few moments, breathing in his cologne and shampoo -he smelt so good, how?

"Someone would marry you," he finally responded -something there in his voice but you couldn't name it, "-'d be fuckin' stupid not to."

It was going great, really great. Until it wasn't.

You can't even remember the mission now, but it was one that the twins followed you in on. You convinced them to wait out in the car, you could handle this.

And while you were, your earcon went off -static voice in your ear. You had to strain to hear it, but once you did, you wished you hadn't. It was Maria, your previous handler -you had no idea how she got your connection, actually. It didn't matter then, the voice echoing through your head.

"Butterfly, listen to me, you have to get out of there."

"Maria?" you questioned, slamming a guy's head into a wall, "-'Would love to catch up but I'm a little busy right now-"

"Butterfly, listen. You are in danger."

"Aren't I always?" you laughed, sliding a blade across another guy's neck -he sunk to the floor.

"I got intel on a manhunt for you, the White Death is looking for you. You are not safe, listen to me."

You stalled in place, your heart dropping to your stomach, breathless, "What?"

"He's been surveying your safe house. He knows what job you're on, you have to get out of there now."

One of them rushed you from behind, you promptly elbowed his throat and he let you go -you spun on your heel and shot him square in the head. It was on instinct, your brain was running a thousand miles a minute.

"I can't hide from a guy like him, Maria," you spoke, a sort of shake in your tone, "-he'll find me. He'll find the twins-"

"Listen to me," she repeated, "-we have a plan, but it's not going to be easy."

"Yeah," you sighed, "-okay. I've got nothing to lose, right?"

"There's a car on the westside of the building, you need to head that way and-"

"Maria," you thought of the twins, "-I already have a ride."

"I want you to listen to me very carefully, you are not making it out of this building alive."

"Jesus," you laughed, "-have a little faith in me-"

"Butterfly, you are not making it out of this building alive."

"I am," you replied, "-I don't know what you're thinking but I'm perfectly capable."

"You, Butterfly, are not making it out of this building alive. Are you listening?"

"I don't-"

"As far as anyone knows, you are dead. As far as the White Death knows, you are dead."

"Oh," you responded, softly, "-this is... I'm... What about the twins?"

"They can't know. The White Death will be surveying them for months after, if they don't play the part-"

"They would," you ushered out, tears burning at the backs of your eyes, "-they... They could not see me for awhile but they would know-"

"I'm sorry, but if you're actually going to stay alive, they can't know. The White Death is smart, he knows how close the three of you are. If they know, he'll know."

"Please," you whispered, you felt like you couldn't breathe, "-without them... You don't know what it'll put them through, Maria, I can't-"

"I'm sorry."

Tears fell before you could stop them, heavy and your throat felt like it was closing up (good god, you couldn't breathe). You stumbled to the window, eyes catching on the car that waited for you by the entrance -if you squinted you could see them, you just wanted to see them again. Even if it was the last time-

"Butterfly, breathe, I need you to focus, okay? For them and you."

"Will you tell them first, before... before anyone else? They deserve to-" your voice cracked, "-They deserve to know first."

"Of course."

You swallowed, gasping for a breath and desperately wiping at your eyes -it felt like you were suffocating. Even still, you righted yourself -for the twins.

"What do you need from me?"

"Leave your phone and something they would know you wouldn't leave behind. They have to... They have to believe it."

With a shaky breath, you threw your phone to the floor -it cracked, but you didn't care. You scanned over yourself, digging into your pockets for something -anything. And then you remembered, the scratching on the fabric -it was your bracelet.

It was a gift from the twins, a simple charm bracelet with one single charm: a butterfly.

You remembered when they gave it to you, you promising to keep it on every day. It was the best gift you'd ever been given-

Hands shaking, you unclasped it -watching as it clattered to the ground, butterfly looking up at you. With another breath, you pulled your knife out of your pocket -three initials carved into the handle. Something in you cracked then as you looked at it, a little shrine to you -this is what they'd see. When they were told you were dead, they'd see this. That was... That was it.

You couldn't stay here anymore.

"Maria," you swallowed, blinking back as many tears as you could, "-where's the car?"

The next 4 years were a lot. You'd finally become yourself, a man, and you lived out in a small little cabin in the woods. You lived next to a teeny-tiny town where everyone knew each other, and you made your life there.

It was a sunny day when a car pulled up to your home -a fancy, expensive one. You knew it well, it dropped you off here all that time ago. Maria.

She smiled when she saw you, skimming over you -she knew about the transition but she hadn't seen you since before, "You look good, happier."

"Thanks," you smiled, leading her into your home. She was well aware of your home, every few years, she visited. Told you things, about the twins -their successes, their failures. They were infamous now. Sometimes it felt like you were there again, you could close your eyes and smell Tangerine's cologne and see Lemon's smile-

"I have some news," Maria started leaning against your countertop -she was always so rigid, all business.

"Yeah?" you smiled, "-What did they do now?"

"The White Death is dead," she spoke -frank and direct.

Something in your shoulders lifted, tears burning the back of your eyes -it had been so long, "Did they...?"

You knew very little about what she told them then, but you do know it had to do with the White Death. You knew they'd try and avenge you one day, it was just in their blood. You hoped they had peace now.

"A few people did," she clarified, "-remember the bullet train I talked about last week?"

"Yeah, you had Ladybug on that one, right?" you asked, you knew of the guy -never met him.

"The twins were there," she hummed, "-Turned out to be planned by him. He was going to kill them all by the end of the line."

"But they survived?" you asked.

"They did," she assured, before pausing for a moment, "-I'm here to ask you something."

You pursed your lips, something catching in your chest, "I can't see them, Maria-"

"That's not-" she started, before clearing her throat, "-I want to ask if you want back in."

"Into... work again?" You asked, curious.

"Yes," she said, laying it all out, "-We have a spot open, you'd be under me. We can start out with small jobs-"

"Isn't this what we planned? All that time ago?"

"We did," Maria confirmed, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, "-but, you've been here so long. Your plans can change, you know. You could live a normal life."

You thought back to that conversation that late night with Tangerine. You had wanted it then. At the time, you didn't know who you wanted it with but now... you did. And that... that wasn't happening.

But going back to work, that was familiar, that felt normal. You'd be yourself again. You hadn't felt that way fully since that day, but you could achieve it now. Mostly.

"Okay," you responded, "-I'm in."

That is what brought you here in some office building for a drive under the name, Beetle. Well, you weren't alone. A couple of months ago, you'd been at a meeting of the agency -Maria had requested you come. You'd said something a little bit snappy and from the back, a guy with blonde hair, glasses, and a huge smile, had yelled, "I like this guy!"

That was your introduction to Ladybug, and he'd immediately requested to be your partner to Maria. He even threw in some 'pretty-please's, you'd laughed really hard that day -you hadn't in a long time. And with a little hope of some normalcy, you agreed.

Now this was pretty run of the mill, you'd worked with Ladybug to know most of his quirks -like forgetting literally everything as soon as you stepped into the building, and not wanting to kill people on Wednesdays ('My therapist says I need to start taking care of myself, this is me doing that, Beetle.').

"Listen," you turned to him, "-just keep the guy distracted, I will find the drive."

"Hey," he mumbled, eating some kind of finger food, "-Aren't we supposed to be a team? What was it that Maria said-"

"Ladybug," you sighed, he could really annoy you, "-firstly, you know she never says anything in your favor-" he nodded at that in agreement, "-secondly, do you even remember what you had for breakfast this morning?"

He paused, squinting his eyes.

"Exactly," you pointed out, "-so I will go find the drive, and you go... mingle."

"I don't wanna mingle," he nearly whined, "-I should've retired after the bullet train."

You froze for a moment, at the mention, before coming back down to earth, "You can do that after we do this, yeah?"

"Oh," he waved his hand with a grin, "-you know I could never leave you, Beetle."

You smiled then, "I know. Now, go, seriously-"

"Yeah, alright," he swatted you, "I'm going-"

With that, you slipped over to the elevator -squeezing past a few stray people and pressing the top floor. Luckily, it was some sort of company party, so every office was unattended. You, yourself, needed the top office, so out of respect for your knees -you'd decided to use the elevator.

You would later wildly regret this decision.

Around the fifth floor, it stopped. You fully prepped yourself for some stray office worker, probably holding a two-liter to bring downstairs and the awkward conversation that would ensue. Instead, it was much, much worse.

Because in front of that door stood Lemon, tips still bleached and dressed in a casual suit -the same kind he always used to wear. Your heart was in your throat, so you casually arranged your tie -trying not to let your voice come out squeaky.

"What floor?" You offered.

He didn't say a word, was just staring for a moment -brown eyes solid on you like he was reading you. You knew you looked different, and even sounded different but you still thought maybe-

"Seventh, thank you," he smiled, sauntering up to your side.

You smiled with a nod, and pressed the button.

The silence was unbearable, and you were certainly going to give Maria an earful when you got back because this. Was. Not. Supposed. To. Happen.

That was literally your one clause for this work-

"Do I know you?" Lemon asked, looking at you questioningly, "-I feel like I've seen you somewhere before. You're so familiar-"

Your tongue was quicker than your brain, "I'm Carl, Mr. Madison's assistant?"

He pursed his lips, like he was trying to believe it.

"I work on the third floor, mostly," you lied through your teeth -it was just keeping cover, "-maybe you saw me there?"

"Yeah," he settled, still eyeing you weirdly, "-probably."

The rest of the ride was silent, just before he stepped off, "Carl, if ya see an uptight guy in a suit with a mustache, tell 'im I'm on seventh, will ya?"

You instinctively nodded, and as the doors slipped shut -your brain started screaming. Of course, Tangerine was here. God, you could handle Lemon, but-

You pressed your com on, hissing out, "Maria-"

"Yeah, Beetle, what's going on? Everything okay?"

"The twins are here," you spoke -tone wavering, your breaths felt shallow like you weren't getting enough no matter how hard you tried.

"Oh shit."

"Wow," you came back to earth for a moment, "-that's the first time I've heard you lose your cool. Too bad I'm losing my mind-"

"Beetle, listen to me, okay? They don't know who you are. You look different, you sound different."

"I know," you let a breath out, "-I just. I never wanted to see them again. I don't... I don't deserve to."

"Beetle, we've talked about this."

"I know," you took a breath in, "-I know. It's just a lot."

"Is Ladybug there with you?"

"No," you spoke, like it was obvious, "-he can hardly remember his name sometimes, Maria-"

"I'll tell him there's an emergency. Send him up to you."

"But there isn't?" You countered, hand slipping up to run through your hair.

"If the twins are there for the same thing, there's about to be."

With that, you were on the top floor. You kept your eyes peeled -fancy shoes clopping along the tile. You'd always wanted a pair, but now you felt like a prick, honestly.

You figured if Tangerine was anywhere he was here, or shuffled into the party. That was if you had the same motivation.

Which was probably your best bet.

Somehow, you made it to the office in one piece. No peering blue eyes anywhere or accents melting into your ears, you were alone. Huh, maybe you were lucky.

You shuffled through some drawers, scattering paperwork and knocking a tin of paperclips over. It really didn't matter, the man would notice the USB gone anyway so no need for it to look like someone hadn't stolen it. With the drawers, you came up empty-handed.

You pursed your lips, before brushing your fingers along the top shelf of the bookshelf, maybe it was hidden? Nope.

You spun on your toes, before your eyes landed on the laptop. It was literally plugged into his laptop, out in the open.

"Idiots," you mumbled, before pocketing it with the slip of your hand.

Ready to go and fetch Ladybug, your job was done-

"Give me the fuckin' drive," his voice bounced around your head, and you very nearly cracked your neck spinning around to see him.

The first thing was the gun in your face, which was familiar, actually.

You raised your hands in surrender, instinctively muttering, "Jesus Christ."

He stalled for a minute when his eyes met your face like he was processing something -you thought out of anyone he would recognize you. The gun faltered in his hand as his eyebrows crept together into a furrow, confused.

You washed over him too, his hair was slightly longer and he was stronger -you could tell. His mustache was the same, and the suit too, just tighter. But along his neck, right at the collarbone was a nasty scar -it was new, fresh, you could tell. A couple of months at most.

"Look, I'm just Mr. Madison's assistant," you started, your voice shaking but it actually helped you here, "-I don't know what you're talking about."

"Do you think I'm fuckin' stupid?" He countered, frustrated again, but there was still something skewed in his face, "-I saw you slip it in your pocket."

"Right," you swallowed, "-glass doors."

He leaned forward, the gun doing the same. And you heard the jingle of his necklace, the one he always wore -something from his childhood he said, but there was another sound, another noise. Before you could think any better, your eyes dipped to it.

The butterfly charm.

Your heart stalled in your chest.

He had the butterfly charm, your butterfly charm, around his neck. The silver was stark against the gold, so you really couldn't have missed it -how long has he been wearing that?

A sob trickled up the back of your throat, but you held it back -blinking away tears.

"Look," you echoed, voice heavy with wear -you wouldn't cry, not now, "-we can work this out."

"I said," he stepped forward, and you could smell his cologne -it was still the same, "-give me the fuckin' drive."

You didn't move.

"Do you want a fuckin' bullet in your head, love?" He asked, his face getting redder, but there was still something in his eyes -he was hesitating. He never hesitates.

Not... not at work. He pulls the trigger and is done but he's hesitating-

Your heart pounding in your chest, you stood your ground -digging your heels in, "Shoot me. You can take it off my corpse, just shoot me."

Tangerine frowned, something in his face flickering between your eyes -you knew he saw you, but you didn't know how he did. Did he think it was just a coincidence? Did he know? Did he think he was hallucinating?

He opened his mouth, but before he could say a word -Lemon walked in with a gun pressed to his temple. Your eyes caught on Ladybug's and he visibly seemed to relax at the sight of you breathing.

"For old times sake," he spoke, "-you give me my guy, I give you yours."

"You almost fuckin' killed me," Tangerine seethed through his teeth, "-why should I 'ave any leniency?"

Oh, you thought, that scar was from Ladybug?

"He's got a point 'ere," Lemon replied, rather plainly. You wanted to laugh.

Ladybug paused, "I said I was sorry, I thought we were past that, guys! We killed the White Death together, remember?"

Both of them froze, tense and lips twitching. Was that... Was that because of you?

"Oh, right, sorry," Ladybug recanted, "-sensitive subject."

It was. Something in your chest panged, you'd never thought you'd see it firsthand. You never wanted to-

You stopped the train of thought, hissing to Ladybug, "You are not helping here, you know that?"

"I'm trying my best," he practically whined back, "-you try reasoning with these guys! It's like talking to two brick walls-"

"Ladybug," you chastised.

"Right, sorry," he repeated.

You sighed, leveling to look at them, "Look, I'll give you guys the drive, okay? Just let us go. I'll get him out of here."

Tangerine softened just a smidge -blue eyes matching yours, you may have looked different but your eyes stayed the same. You knew that, and you hoped somewhere in him, he recognized them or they reminded him or anything-

Because if they didn't, you weren't making it out of here alive.

Wordlessly, Tangerine put his gun down and held out his hand. So he did see it.

Ladybug's eyes nearly bulged out of his head, he was clearly not expecting him to relent. But then again, you weren't either.

You pulled it from your pocket, dropping it into his open hand -careful not to touch him, you couldn't do that to yourself.

"Ladybug," you spoke, motioning for him to follow, "-Let's go. We'll tell Maria on the way."

He did as such, giving the gun back to Lemon, and slowly following you out of the door -back turned to the outside, keeping watch.

"Did you-" Tangerine interrupted, stalling the two of you in your path -your heartbeat quickened in your chest, as he turned to look at you, only you, "-Did you know Butterfly?"

"Everyone knows Butterfly," Ladybug responded, "-she's a legend, even for our agency."

He didn't react to his response, only solidly looking at you, Lemon too. You felt like every move you made was outing you, revealing you. That they would realize and hate you and never understand-

"I never knew her personally," you answered, swallowing, "-Just... Just stories."

And with that, you spun on your heel and walked out the door -Ladybug following dutifully behind. You felt their eyes on you every step until you turned back around in the elevator.

You didn't do a job for quite awhile after that. Ladybug, following your lead, took a break too -said something about meditating. You didn't listen, you couldn't.

All you could see was that charm hanging on his necklace -right next to his heart. Did Lemon have your knife? Did they split them?

The next few months were boring, Maria kept calling you and you kept telling her you were okay, you just needed some time. She even sent Ladybug on you a couple of times, but even he could tell you weren't at your best. He just kept recommending things his therapist said, you appreciated it, really, even though it didn't help at all.

When you finally got back to work, Maria sent you as a solo -Ladybug was something you had to limit after a while. All you had to do was get a package before it was delivered, simple.

You didn't know why god seemed to hate you.

You were posed as a delivery truck driver, you even had the truck, the outfit, and the lift. It was something you genuinely enjoyed and everything should've gone perfectly.

It should have been as easy as walking in and walking back out.

That was not the case.

You arrived at the hotel lobby, dressed in the uniform and smiling at the front desk. Politely asking for the boxes you needed, something about office supplies or pillows or something. The hotel had too much of it. All you had to do, was get the package and sneak it in with the others.

"Can I run to your bathroom?" You asked with a smile -you had to get out of the lobby somehow.

"Of course," she smiled, bright and beautiful, "-There's one down that hallway and to the right."

You followed those directions, and then decisively took off into the bathroom -despite it not being a part of the plan. Somewhere in the back of your head, you noted that someone was definitely following you. It was a shadow in the back of your eye, but you still saw it.

So when the door opened behind you, you raised your fist and-

Stopped.

Tangerine stood there, eyes wide as your fist was mere inches from his face. He was wearing a coat, maybe like a trenchcoat, that was brown and gave his whole outfit something entirely different.

"What the hell?" You hissed out, lowering your fist, "-What are you doing here? Following me?"

Tangerine seemed to pause for a moment, before wiping his hand over his mouth, "I'm stayin' 'ere, saw ya out in the lobby. This isn't... It's not a job. I'm not 'ere to... to hurt you."

"Did you just want to say hi?!" You asked, sarcastically -this could not be happening again, "-Last time I saw you, you had a gun pointed at my head. Forgive me for being afraid."

He licked his lips, and you noticed it then, something was very off. He wasn't angry, no, he looked exhausted like he hadn't slept in days; his eyes were red and puffy like he had been crying. Had he been crying?

"Um," you started, trying to act normal, "-is everything okay...?"

"Tangerine," he finished for you.

"Beetle," you offered in response, before repeating, "-Seriously, is everything okay? Should I call your... your partner?"

"You knew 'er," he interrupted, voice worn.

"Knew who?" You questioned, squeezing your nails into your palm -you knew where this was going.

"Butterfly," he clarified, "-you fuckin' knew 'er, you had to."

"Look, Tangerine," you replied, "-I already told you-"

He interrupted you again, quietly letting out a wet sort of chuckle, "You even say it like 'er."

"Say what?"

"My name," he bit at his lip, gnawing at it, really, "-you say it the exact same way, and I... I fuckin' remember that, so you knew 'er."

You were speechless for a moment, before settling yourself -trying to stay away from this, "Do... Do you need to talk for a minute? Or?"

"Are you 'er brother?" He asked, something heavy in his gaze, "-It's the only solution I can think of, and it's drivin' me fuckin' mad. I have to know-"

"Why would I say I don't know her if I'm her brother?"

"I don't fuckin' know," he breathed out, hands running through his hair, "-are you afraid of the White Death? What he... he did to 'er? He's dead, very dead. You can say you know 'er-"

"But, I don't," you offered, a little weaker.

"You do," he replied simply, "-you fuckin' 'ave to, you look just like 'er. You can't- I can't... Just tell me the truth."

"I'm not her brother," you repeated, it was the only thing you could say.

"Did she ever say anythin' about me? About... About Lemon?" He continued, his voice scratchy and eyes blinking so fast you knew he was holding back tears -your stomach churned.

"Tangerine," you sighed out, "-I don't know what to-"

He interrupted you again, hand pulling on his necklace, the charm, "'s hers, you were starin' at it the other day. 'Was her bracelet, but I think ya know 'at."

"Look," you swallowed, heavily, "-I can't do this now, I'm on a job. We can talk later, though, if you need to."

You ended up finding the box in ten minutes and leaving without another word.

By the time, you were ready for missions again -you were half convinced you wanted to just go back to the cabin, and live your life there. Away from mustaches and feelings and fear, you could enjoy yourself -listen to birds, observe nature, even.

Maria even offered it, after the last trip, she'd smiled at you in the solemn way she did and offered you the home back, the life back.

You thoroughly debated it for a few days but wanted to feel like yourself again and this was the closest you'd get, ever.

You loved him, and this was the closest thing you'd get to him. It was all you had.

Even if he did love you, you were... different now and you couldn't imagine that would be okay with him. You didn't let yourself.

The next time you saw the twins, you decided to embrace it -try and be as close as you could. If they figured it out and left you in the dust, so be it. You wanted them in your life.

It was another solo mission, Ladybug was in one of those 'I'm going to quit and move to Costa Rico' phases of his career and you didn't exactly want to cozy up with anybody else.

Maria understood, and sent you alone.

It was a hit, some guy with a big life insurance policy -his wife hired you, apparently. He was a loner, and didn't go much of anywhere, so you were to stage a robbery and simply kill him in the kerfuffle. Or, at least make it look like that.

The job was so easy that you'd taken to the city afterward -you wanted to live a normal life for a minute, and after it all, you ended up in a bar. A sort of quiet one with a wooden bar and dim lights -the only people in there being men watching football games, and even they did say much of a word.

It was calm, peaceful.

You heard the door jingle, you knew the sound but assumed it was a normal person -sipping on your drink in your booth alone, away from prying eyes. You didn't exactly want any company, not really, but you ended up with some.

The steps of fancy shoes, it was ingrained in your brain, only getting louder -you thought maybe someone was going to sit close to you. Until they abruptly stopped at your side, you promptly turned your head -eyes peering over your drink.

Tangerine stood there in much better shape, blue eyes focused gently onto you (not red and puffy) and hair perfectly gelled back. He was wearing the blue suit that matched his eyes really well -you'd told him it was his best one once.

"Tangerine," you hummed, sipping your drink, "-weird seeing you here."

He paused, eyes flicking over you for a moment -maybe taking in your outfit, just the same as you did. Before muttering out, "'Ere's a safe house nearby, me and Lemon are stayin' 'ere."

You knew that one, the three of you stayed there a couple of times but then again, where hadn't the three of you stayed?

You pondered over that for a moment, before speaking, "You can sit down, you know, I won't bite."

He seemed to tense up.

"Unless you do," you clarified with a bit of a smile, "-in which I retract my statement."

His lips quirked for a second, as he slid into the booth across from you, "'M off the clock."

"Ah," you nodded your head, "-lucky for you, me too."

"Lucky for me?" He asked, it all seemed so natural -you knew he'd ask questions about it later.

"I'm a good fight," you shrugged, "-what can I say?"

"I imagine," he laughed, and something in your chest swirled -you missed that.

He sat in silence for a moment, tapping his fingers against the table, as you messed with the napkin you had. It wasn't uncomfortable, not really, (you didn't think it would ever be) but there was still something hanging over the two of you.

"Look," he said, suddenly, "-about the other day. I'm sorry, I was... I was in a really bad fuckin' place. Just brought up some memories... I didn't mean to-"

"Relax, Tangerine," you sighed, something bubbling up your throat, "-I know what it feels like when you've seen a ghost."

Something in you twisted, tired, and thinking you were lying. God, you were lying to him. But you couldn't chance losing him again, you didn't want him to hate you. Force himself out of your life, his choice.

Not yours. It was selfish, you knew that much.

"They treat ya well?" He asked, and you tilted your head, "-Your agency? I had a friend... switched over, so..."

"Very well," you hummed, "-My handler is... she understands my breaks."

"You had a break?"

"Long time ago," you spoke, vaguely -you couldn't be specific, "-stayed in a cabin, lived normal for awhile."

He leaned back into the booth, something in him curious, you could see it, "How was it?"

"Boring," you decided.

"Yeah," he murmured, "-always thought it fuckin' would be."

You took a leap then, even if the answer would hurt. You wanted to know.

"You ever thought about it?"

"Bein' normal?" He clarified -eyes smooth over your face.

You nodded, finishing your drink -he seemed to notice, and you half thought he'd offer you to get another.

"Yeah," he breathed out -not matching your eyes now, something heavy on his shoulders, "-once a long fuckin' time ago. But... things change."

You wondered if it was because of you -that one night. If he wanted that with you-

He wouldn't anymore, your mind chimed -stinging under your skin, you are different. So is he.

Timing would never be right, it made your lips snap shut anytime you thought of telling him. The idea that he had loved you then, and now... now he wouldn't. That was worse than him hating you for life, just not... just not loving you anymore.

You swallowed, thick -you wanted to know more, but you couldn't just say that, "That they do."

He paused for a moment, before sliding out of the booth, "I 've to go, Lemon's waitin' on me."

You nodded your head, toying with your glass -eyes slinking across the rim, something in you disappointed. Something in you wanted him to stay, but that wasn't going to happen. You couldn't have him.

Not now.

"Beetle," he spoke, slow and measured, "-'S nice talkin' to ya. Maybe we can catch up again when we aren't at each other's fuckin' throats, yeah?"

"Yeah," you agreed, the tips of your mouth turning up just a little, "-I'd be alright with that."

You started seeing Tangerine every once in a while, strange little cafés and dimly lit bars. You didn't know how he always ended up in the area with you or close by, but it felt familiar. Like when the two of them would follow you into jobs, even when you said you'd be fine because they wanted you to be okay. Just in case. You supposed now that they actually had something to worry about.

That led you to now, you laid on the tile of a building -head pounding and the lights blinding. You had successfully cleared it and killed your hit, but someone had snuck up on you -gun drawn, they took a cheap shot.

"Maria," you breathed out, "-Maria, come in."

"Beetle? Everything alright?"

"They got a cheap shot in-" you hummed, "-I think in my chest? It hurts to breathe-"

"Okay, alright. I'll see who's around you, okay?"

"I think I can walk-"

"Don't move, keep your hands on the wound. What floor are you on?"

"Second," you faltered out a breath -a sting in your lungs, even still you shifted putting all your weight on your hands, "-shit, never get used to that."

"Never will."

You laughed, leaning your head back down against the tile -it was cold against your skin. You felt like you were burning alive, so it was actually a little refreshing.

The lights above you hurt your eyes, but it was easier to breathe this way. Inhale, exhale -a sting, inhale, exhale -a sting.

You imagined for a second this was years ago, that you were actually dying then. The twins would come rushing in, burst through the doors, and Lemon would be darting all over you -trying to figure it out. And Tangerine... Tangerine would grab your face and keep you awake -soft words but every once in a while shaking you to keep you awake. You wouldn't have been able to die then, not with them there -trying to help. You supposed you could die now, bleed out on a tile floor alone or with someone you didn't even know.

This dream of it being Tangerine and Lemon, that was something you could live for -you could almost see it in your head.

And then you heard it, a door busting open and fancy shoes clattering down the hallway -like yours that made you feel like a prick. You wondered if you got the idea of them from Tangerine, he surely owned so many pairs-

"Shit," there was a voice then, and your eyes snapped to the source.

Oh, I'm definitely hallucinating.

Tangerine stood over you before falling to his knees, mumbling -frustrated, "I just fuckin' knew it was you."

"Am I..." you spoke, breathlessly, "-Am I hallucinating?"

"What do you think I am? A fuckin' angel?" Something in your mind answered yes, "-Hate to break it to you, love, but it's just me."

"How the hell were you around here?"

"A job," he said, a little too quickly -it was suspicious.

"Lying-" you slurred out, "-I can tell you're lying."

Tangerine didn't say anything in response, ignoring it, "'S your chest, yeah?"

"Yeah," you hummed, "-where I'm holding."

"Alright," he breathed out, "-alright. Don't stop holdin' it, okay? Keep your hand 'ere."

"How am I gonna move?"

He rolled his eyes, "Can't give me an inch of fuckin' trust, can ya?"

"Sure, I can," you breathed out, flinching slightly, "-just tell me your plan."

He let out a chuckle, before without warning -slipping his arms under your knees and back. The movement jostled you a little and it hurt -you hissed out.

"Sorry, love," he echoed out, softer than you expected, "-'s the only way to get ya out of 'ere."

"I know," you exhaled, "-I know. Keep going."

It felt like you hadn't even blinked before he was pattering out of the building -he was going so fast. Your head was spinning now, but you were still conscious.

"Shit," you heard Lemon, as Tangerine slipped you into the backseat, laying you across the seats -head first, "-a bullet?"

"Fucking cheap shot," you breathed out, "-Killed a whole building full of people and some asshole came up behind me and shot me-"

Lemon seemed to laugh slightly at your frustration; it made you feel a little lighter.

Tangerine shut the door and you waited for him to slip into the passenger seat. You were getting tired, you just wanted to bandage it up and go to whatever hotel was open.

Instead, Tangerine slipped into the side with your head -carefully lifting it and setting you back down onto his lap. You froze -his cologne surrounding your head so much it made you woozy. Why had he done that?

"Stay awake, yeah?" He spoke, breaths raggedy -he really must've been going fast, "Beetle, do you hear me?"

"Yeah, yeah," you swallowed, the smooth cushion of his suit pants was tempting, but the situation you currently were in kept you awake. Your heart was pounding, your brain spinning, you were so close.

You'd been closer, but that was over 4 years ago. Even further when his hands made their way to your face and hair -trying to keep you awake. It worked very, very well.

Had he ever held your face before?

Something in you said no, but it could've happened. You were also so close and any time you got injured he'd always wanted to see it for himself. He usually refused to leave until he took care of it himself, with gentle hands. Whose to say you hadn't gotten a cut on your face?

Why did it feel so different now?

You looked up at him, just for a spare second -you saw his hand run through his hair, unveiling the curls by the second. You'd always liked his curls, when he'd shown you his natural hair -it was all soft and bouncy. It wasn't good for his image, you totally understood.

He's nervous, your mind chimed, does he care about you like this too?

You slapped away the thought and decidedly started staring up at the plush ceiling -this car was definitely expensive, you knew that much. The cushion on the seats, the detailing, the roof, the speed-

This thing had to be stolen.

"Ya alright, love?"

You swallowed and met his eyes, big blue blinking down at you and you could see it, the concern. Since when was he concerned for you? This you? Something had changed at some point and you didn't even notice.

"I've been shot," you retorted, obviously, "-I'm currently bleeding out on your fancy seats."

"That's not-" he huffed out, pinching the bridge of his nose -you couldn't hold back the grin on your lips.

Lemon laughed from the front, "'Give 'im a real run for his money, you know 'at, Beetle?"

"I try my best."

Lemon laughed again, and something in your chest felt lighter -you had missed them, so much. All those years at that fucking cabin, you had missed out on them, on knowing them, watching them, being with them.

God, you regretted everything then, but it was for the best. It kept them safe.

"Seriously," his voice was lower now but still so pointed, "-are you alright?"

You blinked away the fog of tears in your eyes, not now, and nodded, "Yeah, yeah. I'm alright."

The ride was short after that, it was wordless. Even though you think Tangerine wanted to say more, he didn't pry. Which you thought was very strange because he's Tangerine (he prods and pokes until you're set on murdering him) but you were literally bleeding out, so maybe it was courtesy.

You didn't have the heart to think it was anything else.

The twins brought you up the stairs, each taking a shoulder, and although it wasn't as dizzying as before when Tangerine had physically held you... It still was overwhelming.

These guys were like your family. You hadn't been this close to them in years.

"Alright, I'm assumin' you got the wounds?" Lemon asked, directed at Tangerine.

With a succinct nod, Lemon spun back around in the doorway -talking as he walked out, "'M off to get some food, don't bite each other's heads off, yeah? I'd hate to clean up the mess, personally-"

And then he was gone. You were currently sitting on a stool, hand still pressed intently into your chest, as Tangerine gathered up what medical supplies they had. Which was a lot, actually.

You spoke before you could think about it, "You know I can do this myself, right?"

"God, you've got quite the fuckin' head, don't ya?"

"You're one to talk," you replied.

Tangerine pursed his lips, in a way you could tell he was hiding a smile, before his eyes drifted to the ground for a moment. He didn't respond immediately, thinking on it.

And even when he brought everything onto the counter, he didn't say anything. It wasn't until he stood in front of you, nearly in between your legs as you sat on the stool.

"Just let me help you, yeah?"

Your eyes flickered over him, trying to read him but all you could get was -please. Almost like a desperation to help you, like he'd wanted to do this not just offering it-

"Yeah, okay," you responded softly.

"Shirt off," he quickly spoke -right to business, reaching over to the counter to grab what he needed.

You swallowed, you still weren't used to that. Taking your shirt off in front of people, off the top of your head you couldn't think of anyone who had seen your scars. Your top surgery scars. They were very obvious, right in the middle of your chest, and unavoidable. Did you want him to see them?

"Can't I just..." you started, "-unbutton the bottom?"

Tangerine turned back to you then, furrowing his eyebrows, "The gunshots in the middle of your chest, love, it'd be fuckin' half on anyway. Just take it off."

You frowned.

"No judgment here," he put his hands in the air, "-I couldn't care fuckin' less what your chest looks like, personally."

You licked your teeth and swallowed, before unbuttoning the dress shirt, slowly, but keeping it solidly on your shoulders. Kind of like how the men in cologne ads looked, with their opened-up shirts and the epitome of masculinity-

He didn't say a word, but you saw his eyes flicker over them -almost like he was noting it in his head before he switched his attention to the wound. He promptly dabbed it with an alcohol soaked cotton ball, and you nearly bit through your lip.

"Warn a guy, will you?"

Tangerine didn't even look up, "If that hurt, you're gonna have a fuckin' problem later, love."

"I've been stitched up before," you clarified, "-I'm not a newbie."

"Might as well be, yeah?" He hummed, tossing the cotton ball in the trash -flawlessly making it in (how does he even exist?), "-With your break."

"How do you know it was a long one?"

"I've never fuckin' heard of you," Tangerine explained, "-Ladybug's never heard of you and you're a part of his agency-" he dabbed another one over your wound, "-Must've been a long break."

He had a good point.

"Why are you so interested anyway?" You asked, quirking a brow, "-Plus, there are other agencies, how do you know I didn't come from one of them?"

"You're too good to 'ave," he replied, simply.

You fell silent, something stirring in your stomach -was that the first time he'd ever complimented you? Beetle you? Huh.

"Wow," you hummed, "-you can be nice. Who knew?"

"You're soundin' like fuckin' Lemon now," he groaned, before taking the needle from the counter.

"Lemon's smart then," you diverted your eyes -never could stand looking at being stitched up.

Tangerine rolled his eyes, and you looked back up to the ceiling -a smile ghosting onto your lips. Not that you'd ever let him see.

It went fairly smoothly, his hands made quick work of it and even quicker with the wound on your back (the bullet had gone right through your chest, luckily not hitting anything). Nothing happened, you were worried about nothing. He was Tangerine-

Just as you had started buttoning your shirt back up (you started from the bottom to the top), Tangerine froze.

Without a word, he walked closer to you -tilting your chin up with the ease of a finger and looking under it on your chest. You froze, his skin on yours was still something you couldn't deal with.

"Where'd you get 'at one?"

Fuck.

You knew what he was talking about immediately. It was a scar, just above your heart. You'd been stabbed on the job, and Lemon had fucked up your stitches so it had healed weird -came out curved somehow.

And then Tangerine was so paranoid that you showed him because he needed to know you were okay -it was so close to your heart.

"You almost fuckin' died, Butterfly. One inch down and..."

It was a one-of-a-kind scar. At the time, it didn't matter but now? You knew Tangerine could recognize that scar anywhere.

"Tangerine," you spoke out, measured. You tried to keep your voice calm, maybe you could save this-

He stepped back, eyes making contact with yours -they darted between them for a moment and then back to the scar, and then to your top surgery scars. You could see the wheels turning in his head, and everything in your body was screaming-

"Tangerine, listen-"

That was enough, something in him stiffened and he grabbed his coat off the back of the couch.

"Tangerine," you echoed out, but you knew it was no use now.

He didn't say a word, slipping it on and with the fastest steps you'd ever seen in your life, he disappeared out the door and slammed it shut.

The walls shook after.

You swallowed dryly, tears pricking at your eyes -this was never supposed to happen. This was never supposed to happen-

Your hand was on your com before you could even think about it, breaths shuddering out of your chest -sobs breaking in the back of your throat. You tried to stop it, hold it all back-

"Beetle? Hello? I see your com is on, everything alright?"

"They know," you whispered, nearly silent -tears streaming down your face.

"Who knows what?"

"The twins, they were... they were the ones nearby," you started, and your voice cracked, "-Tangerine offered to stitch me up and I have a scar-"

"Beetle, slow down. I can't understand you."

"They know who I am, Maria," you breathed out, tears catching in your throat, "-Tangerine knows and he's going to tell Lemon, and I don't know what the hell to do-"

"Beetle, breathe."

"He left," you echoed out, and you were crying -god it had been so long since you cried, "-he left, Maria. He didn't even say anything-"

"It's a lot to take in. Give him the benefit of the doubt."

"He's gone," you swallowed, "-I know it, Maria."

"You know him. Do you really think he's gone?"

You thought back to the pendant on his necklace -the butterfly, your butterfly.

"I don't..." you started, "-I don't know."

"Just wait, if nobody comes back... Give me a call, alright? I'll send a car your way."

So, you did.

You waited, buttoned your shirt back up, tried to wash the stain, and waited. You ended up flicking through TV shows, and smushed into the couch, waiting. Even thought about ordering your own food, but a part of you wanted to be sure that Lemon wasn't coming back.

After about two hours of waiting, you swallowed down the tears -eyes all red and puffy, and started gathering up your stuff. You accepted it now, you'd never see them again.

It was your decision, you would regret it for as long as you lived. Something in your chest heavy and exhausted, you readied yourself to call Maria back.

Just as your finger was about to touch the com, there was a jingle of some keys outside the door. You froze in place, slipping on one of your shoes without another thought -ready to leave. You knew he'd ask you.

The door slowly opened, and Tangerine peered inside -he looked worse for wear and you think if you focused hard enough you could see blood on his knuckles. You wouldn't ask, not now.

His blue eyes flicked over you, to your shoes and your coat all gathered up on your arms, he gnawed at his lip for a moment.

"Where the fuck are you goin'?

It was all harsh edges and sharp points, it made you bring up your own barriers.

"I'm leaving," you answered, straightening your posture and putting on your other shoe.

Tangerine didn't move for a moment, as you slowly made your way to the door -footsteps echoing in the heaviest silence you'd ever experienced in your life.

Just before you got there, Tangerine stepped in front of the door -something in his eyes heavy.

"Tangerine," you sighed, "-let me go."

"No," he answered simply, eyes meeting yours and you saw now, they were red and puffy too, "-hell no."

"Look, I really don't want to-" you started before briefly rubbing your temples, "-you want me to leave, just let me leave."

"Who the fuck said 'at?"

You tilted your head.

"Why would I want you to leave?" He furrowed his eyebrows, still angry, "-You... I just got you back, why the fuck would I want you to leave?"

"I lied to you, Tan," you breathed out, and something caught in your throat, "-I lied to you for years."

"You're fuckin' alive-" Tangerine exhaled, chuckling a little in disbelief, "-I have so many questions, yeah? That is far, so fuckin' far, from wantin' you to leave."

"Tangerine," you spoke, voice shaky, you just wanted to go. It would be so much easier if you just left-

He paused for a second, "Are you fuckin' listenin' to me?"

"I am," you replied, tears rising to the backs of your eyes, "-I just can't..."

"Love," he grabbed your wrist, something softer, gentler, "-Love, look at me, please."

You swallowed your tears and with a big breath, you looked at him. His eyes were always so very blue, but something about them then was vulnerable. Broken wide open, Tangerine sat in front of you.

"I want ya to stay, yeah?" He breathed out, wiping over his mouth, "-I want you to stay."

You pursed your lips, trying so hard not to cry -you shouldn't be the one crying, "Okay."

"Now," he sighed out, a little lighter, "-fuckin' sit down, you shouldn't aggravate the wound."

You wordlessly sat down on the far edge of the couch, closest to the door. Your hands were shaking, so you laid them flat on your lap -trying to calm down.

He wants you to stay.

"You said-" he started, his voice getting caught up in his mouth, "-You said you were in a cabin, yeah? Where?"

You opened your mouth, confused, "Why does that matter? You have... I lied to you for years and that’s your first question?"

He was standing up, pacing, and then suddenly stopped. He looked up at the ceiling for a moment blinking.

"You know, when they told us you were... dead," he echoed out -something caught in his throat, "-they didn't have a body? All we had was-"

His hand went to his necklace putting the pendant in between his fingers, "All we had was your things, there was no fuckin' body-"

"What does this have to do with-"

"I looked for you," he finally said, "-everywhere I went for a job, I fuckin' looked for you. Because if there wasn't a body, you could still be-"

He fell silent, for a moment -swallowing, eyes swimming over you like he couldn't believe it, "...alive."

"So," he continued, clearing his throat, "-I want to know where the fuck you were. 'At fair?"

Your mouth snapped shut - he looked for you? For how long? That wasn't important now though.

"Alaska," you answered, wiping at your eyes, "-small town, in the middle of nowhere. I had... I had an alias."

"Fuckin' Alaska," he muttered, under his breath.

"It was cold all the time," you added -a bit awkwardly, "-snowed nearly everyday."

Tangerine scanned over your face, maybe like he was trying to imagine you there, alone in the cabin. Or maybe, you out in the snow.

"That day..." he started slow, "-did you fight it? When you were told what you... what you had to do, did you fight it?"

"What are you asking?"

"Did you even think about telling us? Or, or-" he swallowed and his voice was husky and his eyes were bleary, "-coming back to us?"

"Tangerine," you echoed out, emotionless -trying to reign it in, "-I didn't have a choice. You know that."

"I know," he agreed, "-but did you fuckin' try?"

"You think-" you exhaled out, tears gathering in your eyes now, "-You think I didn't try to say goodbye? That I didn't beg Maria to change her mind? That I didn't tell her you guys would keep the secret-"

"Beetle-"

"-just so I could stay?"

"Beetle, I didn't..."

"I did," you swallowed, "-I did beg. It didn't work. If I... If you would've known, we both would've been in too much danger. I couldn't risk it."

"The White Death, yeah?" He clarified, and he was closer to you then he was before. His fingers kept twitching like he wanted to do something.

"He was after me," you hummed, "-knew where I was, where you were, where Lemon was."

"I just-" he started, "-I don't fuckin' get why... after you- After the White Death was killed, why didn't you- why didn't you come back? Tell us?"

"It's... complicated."

"Why?" he stressed out, "Why was it complicated? You were alive, and I don't know about Lemon, but, personally, I would've loved to fuckin' know 'at."

"Tangerine," you started, "-I'm different now, and you guys... you grieved me. How was I supposed to come back from that?"

"I don't give a flyin' fuck 'at you're a man," he interrupted, "-I just wish you would've felt comfortable enough to tell me- tell us earlier."

"Tangerine," you could feel the tears in your eyes.

"And we grieved you, yeah, but-" he explained, messing with his hands for a moment, "-knowing you're alive? That you were fuckin' breathin'? The grieving... It wouldn't 'ave fuckin' mattered, love."

"It would have," you stopped him, "-you thought I was dead-"

"Love," he suddenly sat by your side, gently holding your wrists in place, "-listen to me for once, yeah?"

You nodded, wordlessly, tears slipping down your face, this was guilt you were holding onto for years.

Without hesitating, Tangerine gently started swiping them away with his thumbs, "I thought I was in a world without fuckin' you. Lovely, annoying, beautiful fuckin' you."

You opened your mouth, but he merely continued.

"I couldn't imagine my life without ya in it, and then suddenly it was the fuckin' life I was livin'," he sighed out, eyes matching yours and hands cradling your jaw, "-you being alive changes fuckin' everythin'."

"Why?" You offered, eyes scattering between his -looking for an answer.

He paused for a moment, before dropping his hands, pushing his hair back for a moment, and swallowing. It was like he was readying himself.

"Lemon used to tell me that I was stupid," he finally said.

"Doesn't he always?" You furrowed your eyebrows.

He smiled a little bit, before grabbing one of your hands with his and fidgeting with your fingers -kind of like he just needed to be close to you, "Right, yeah. But this... He told me 'at one day I would regret not tellin' you."

"Telling me what?"

"When you... when you died, I realized the idiot was fuckin' right," he hummed out, a sob catching in his throat but he just kept talking, "-and then, I met a fuckin' self-righteous bloke who had the nerve to dare me to shoot 'im. Looked me right in the eyes."

"Tangerine-"

"And then the guy kept showin' up, and I kept seein' 'im and it was the always same back and forth," he continued, tracing along the creases of your palm, "-but at some point I started thinkin' that I wouldn't shoot 'im, even if he asked."

You laughed.

A smile flickered across his face at the noise, but he kept his eyes downward, "And then, I see 'im bloody and hurtin'. And I think back to the first time, when I didn't say it and if now I wasn't gonna be fuckin' able to-"

You raised an eyebrow.

"And then they dared to be the same fuckin' person."

"Tangerine," you asked, "-what the hell are you talking about?"

It was then that he finally looked up, and then you realized how close his face was to yours. You feel the puffs of his breath against your skin, and it made your head fuzzy. Your thoughts became blurry and all you could see was him-

Tangerine. Tangerine. Tangerine-

"I really don't give a fuck 'at you're a man," he repeated, blue eyes laser focused on yours.

You furrowed your eyebrows, "What the hell does that-"

His eyes dipped down to your lips.

Oh.

"Really?"

"Not a flyin' fuck," he echoed out.

You smiled, before letting your own eyes drift -just for a second. It was like a confirmation, a consent.

Before you could say another word, his hands reached up to grab your face and bring your lips to his. It was all force, desperate, like you were oxygen and he just wanted to breathe-

But somehow still gentle, holding you -fingers rubbing along your face like he was reminding himself you were there. That you were alive. That you were sitting there beside him breathing. It made sense now, all of it.

The grieving didn't matter because you were alive.

He finally separated, keeping his forehead on yours for a split second -staring into your eyes and huffing out breaths.

He kept you there, until it felt like you couldn't breathe -he stole all of it away.

When there was a knock on the door.

Then, there was another knock.

He groaned, throwing his head back -decidedly not letting you go.

"What do you fuckin' want, Lemon?"

"No way to treat someone who got you food," he chastised, "-you 'ave the keys, let me in."

"Come back in ten minutes," Tangerine answered -eyes solidly on yours, you felt frozen in your seat.

"The food's gonna get cold, mate," Lemon retorted, "-don't ya want it warm? I worked hard to get it, ya know? The closest restaurant was like a fuckin' block away-"

"Ten minutes," Tangerine repeated.

"I'm not fuckin' leaving," Lemon started again, "-it's cold out 'ere. You gonna leave your brother out in the fuckin' cold-"

"Fuckin' go, Lemon," Tangerine groaned out.

"Fine," he breathed out, "-keep snoggin', but don't fuckin' complain if I eat some of your food."

Yeah, you really missed this.

"We won't," you chimed in with a smile.

Tangerine smiled at you like you held the sun.

#tangerine bullet train #bullet train #tangerine x reader #tangerine x y/n #tangerine x you #tan's things #tangerine #tangerine bt oneshot #he/him reader #trans male! reader

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chiefdirector · 11 months

Text

Reunion | Thomas Thorne | BBC Ghosts

no.23: Forced to watch (I took this quite liberally)

There was many quirks to being dead. There was the fact that you could walk through walls but could be seated on furniture. Or the fact that nobody with a pulse could see you but sometimes, if you were lucky, you were gifted with an extra ability. The one that plagued (Y/N) the most though was the face that she could not leave the grounds of which she died upon.

She had died in Button house, or as it was known then Higham House, when on a visit with her husband, she had suddenly take ill. He husband had gone to fetch for a doctor but by the time he had returned with help, she had already passed. Her first memory of being dead was watching her husband weep over her still warm body.

It had not taken long for the other spirited residents of the house to learn of their new peer. Mary and Kitty tried to console her, especially when (Y/N) saw Humphrey’s detached head. Robin simply observed her for a while. But even as she, rather quickly, made peace with her untimely demise, there was a feeling that she couldn’t shake.

The feeling grew stronger and stronger as the days passed, until eventually she found herself walking into the main parlour room of the house where she was greeted by a crowd observing an argument.

Instantly she recognised the voices. One belonging to her husband’s ghastly cousin, Francis Button. He was a vile man, and not one she could tolerate for very long. Despite the many times he had tried to worm his way into her life , she always dreaded his visits. The last she saw him was in the day she died, where he had offered her tea; being free of him was one of the few things she welcomed in death.

Stood across from him was her husband. Standing tall and proud, Thomas rebutted something Francis had said. (Y/N) wasn’t quite sure. But she didn’t mind. She had not seen Thomas since he had found her still body upstairs.

(Y/N) heard ringing in her ears as the minutes seemed to pass like seconds. She couldn’t make out what anyone was saying. Instead she just followed the crowds as they made their was outside.

She stood, frozen in place as Thomas and Francis stood opposite to one another. She wanted to turn away but her legs felt stuck. The speed of what happened was to fast to comprehend. One second they were back to back, ready to duel and then next had a bullet launched into Thomas’ side.

(Y/N) rushed down to his crumpled form, reaching a hand out to only have it go through her chest. She closed her eyes, trying to get the image of him bloody from her mind. “Oh Thomas, my love.” She cried out, despite having nobody to hear.

“My darling flower?”

(Y/N) whipped her head up to the voice. Beside the corpse of her husband stood his spirit. He looked shaken, understandably so. “Thomas.”

“You’re dead. You died… how are you here?” Thomas said, frantically looking around before his eyes made contact with the corpse on the ground. “Oh.”

“I can explain everything.”

“No need,” Thomas looked back at his wife with a melancholy smile. “I have you again, darling. The rest will come as it may.”

Masterlist | Whumptober Masterlist

@ailesswhumptober

#thomas thorne #thomas thorne x reader #Thomas Thorne imagine #matthew baynton #ghosts #bbc ghosts #chiefdirector #ailesswhumptober2023

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houndofsevenhells · 6 months

Text

“Of Septons and Hounds” (Sandor Clegane x Original Female Character)

SUMMARY — A recently widowed impoverished spinster, who now finds herself at the Lannisters’ mercy, develops a strange relationship with the fearsome Hound. As the ten year long summer comes to an end, she tries to fight for the man she really wants, while dodging her good-brother's schemes to see her wed yet another elderly lord.

AUTHOR’S NOTE — This is my first ever work in this fandom, I hope I did my favourite fearsome Hound justice. English is not my first language so if you spot any mistakes that is my fault alone. Oh, and there’s also smut.

WORD COUNT — 3,391

Masterlist

The ten year long summer was coming to an end. I could feel it in my bones. Casterly Rock still stood tall and strong, as I suspected it would for another eight thousand years, but everything else around me was changing.

I was savouring a rare moment of peace and hid from the world in the alcove of the rose gardens. The round-petalled, sunset-coloured variety that grew here were my favourite, though of course the crimson ones planted at the very centre were the most magnificent. My good-brother Ser Damion once told me they were the pride and joy of Lady Joanna, and knowing his cousin Tywin I could certainly see why the gardeners worked so hard to keep these blooming all summer long.

As the recently widowed impoverished spinster, who now found herself at the Lannisters’ mercy, I hid in these gardens quite often–mostly to escape my good-brother’s schemes. One should hope his duties as the castellan of the Rock would have kept him busier…

I breathed deeply and felt my head swimming from the sweet scent of the roses. Somehow I knew the crimson ones smelled stronger as of late. I was sure they spoke of impending autumn winds. They had developed a startling, imposing scent that permeated almost the entirety of the gardens and it almost seemed like the flowers wanted to shine just one last time before they would inevitably wilt. Like the one last feast one would throw just before the first snowstorms.

“Well, then.” Suddenly, strong hands grasped my shoulders and I shot up from the bench I was resting on.

I was met with the half-burned face of Sandor Clegane; his ruined lips twisted in a mockery of a smile and his imposing frame blocking the sun from my view completely.

“Oh. It’s you.” I was clearly relieved.

No less confused than before, Sandor took a step closer.

“Who did you think it was?” he asked. His voice was broken glass, crunching under infantry iron boots.

“My brother,” I confessed easily. “He is getting fatter on his castellan purse, but is almost as tall as you, Ser Clegane.”

Immediately, Sandor snarled at the title, his grey eyes full of hate. But I stood there proudly, daring him to scold a high-born lady in public. I was riling him up and he knew it, but he let me all the same.

“Come.” His command was short; an order a captain of the guard would throw at a fellow soldier.

“Is that any way to talk to a lady, Clegane?”

He said nothing to that, just sent me another angry look over his shoulder and then kept walking. I stifled a laugh.

Unlike all those other guards prancing around the Rock in their gold shiny armours, Sandor’s black ring mail and boiled leather seemed to be quelling the sunshine around him.

Unable to help myself, I followed him inside the castle.

His long legs carried him quite a distance further and soon enough I found myself trotting behind him like an ungraceful pony.

“Is that any way for a lady to walk?” he grumbled, though there was mirth in those angry eyes and I grinned as soon as I saw it.

“Is that a jape I hear, Clegane? By the gods, it–” But the rest of that remark died in my throat as he pulled me into a dark corridor that ended with a spiral staircase. He went down and again, I followed.

“Where are we?” I inquired.

“Underneath the barracks.” His rasping voice drifted up to me. Once more, he was leading.

“Lovely,” I sighed and then simply kept following.

At the end of the staircase, there was an old door with an even older-looking lock, to which Sandor for some inexplicable reason produced a rust-covered key. He unlocked the door and it soon became apparent he must have been the first one to do it in quite a while. It took a formidable power to open it at all. I looked at how his muscles bulged under the dark sleeves of his tunic and against my better judgement I did not stop looking until he caught me in the act.

Without any niceties, Sandor took my hand and led me through the narrow passage, then firmly shut the door behind us; the rusty hinges straining under the task.

“I do appreciate the effort, Clegane, but if I should have to perish, I’d rather not do it under some aimless old stone that decides to drop on my head with–”

“You talk too much, woman.”

He grabbed me and soon my back was pressed against the cold stone wall. I did not necessarily mind. This was what I came there for; it was what I wanted and what Sandor kept giving me for the past year and a half.

I reached out blindly and when my hands found his face I pulled him closer for a kiss. He wouldn’t reciprocate at first, this much I knew, because such was our game. He would let me sense his humours and somehow through a simple touch and kiss I would read him like a book. I realised he would need it rough today and my body shivered with anticipation. I deepened the kiss and finally Sandor moved closer and started to unlace his breeches.

There was scarcely any light source in the old dungeon and I could barely see a thing. Regretful, giving my particular weakness for the sight of the man. Because Sandor was everything I could ever want from a man, even though he would never let me say it out loud.

But the noose around my neck was tightening. With the summer ending and Her Grace slowly packing to move back to King’s Landing with the children, I knew the proper mourning period after my late husband’s passing was over. As I had no remaining male relatives, Ser Damion Lannister was in charge of any dowry my puny cousin Crakehall branch could offer. Soon, the evil beast that married my sister would force me to wed once more–undoubtedly to another evil beast of his choosing.

“You are shaking, my lady.” The familiar raspy voice brought me back. I sighed because I enjoyed him calling me a lady quite as much as he liked to be called “ser”.

“It’s cold in here.”

“Aye.” He reached under my skirts and I gasped once he pulled down my smallclothes. “So let me make you warmer.”

Another sigh turned into a moan when he put two fingers inside me and curled them. He was not being rough to be cruel, but because he knew I could not stand a slow and tedious prelude.

“So wet,” he rasped into my ear, his breath hot against my skin. “Were you thinking of me all day?”

I could not smell the wine on him this time and I enjoyed the thought that he wanted to experience me sober. I always liked it better when he was not drinking and I thought the incentive for him was that our time together would last longer.

“Actually no, I–” I exhaled and let out a surprised chuckle as he grabbed my thigh firmly to lift up my leg. I rested it against his hip and he added another finger inside me–this time more smoothly.

“Cease your prattling, woman,” he grunted. “Does the dark frighten you so much? Or the creature you find yourself in the dark with?”

I let out another moan as his teeth nibbled at my neck.

The sensations were overwhelming. The stone wall was cold against my back, and the dank dungeon was not something I would call remotely romantic–it smelled of damp earth and rot, and to be truthful after a day of training in the yard, Sandor smelled no better.

As my eyes adjusted to the dark, I could see him sneering at me.

“Where in the seven hells are you?” He leaned in closer and as he replaced his fingers with his cock, I steadied myself by clutching his arms. “Because you sure ain’t here with me.”

“I am… thinking,” I whispered and it gave him a pretence to claim another kiss from my lips.

He knew me too well; such was the consequence of two souls connecting the way we have been doing. At first our dalliance was just a mutual understanding–but now it expanded and grew like a root, and despite our better judgement, we started to get to know one another.

“Stop thinking so much, woman,” he grumbled, his voice surely hoarse from yelling at incompetent recruits through all of the morrow. “Look at me. Look at me.”

I finally looked up and saw the faint outline of his face. His eyes no longer resentful, now they glinted with lust. I smiled as I understood the object of that lust was me.

“Go on then,” I mustered my best commanding tone and moaned as he squeezed my thigh harder in return.

The rough wall behind me, the strong arms I was clutching and Sandor’s hardness inside me all brought me back from whatever hell my mind had wandered to and I set my heart on the now. That is why we worked so well, I supposed. His roughness and my need for it paired together beautifully.

We were both close, I could feel it. Sandor let out a groan and I made myself tighten around him in response. I wished the moment could last longer, but I knew deep down all things that exist in darkness and privacy must one day come out to light.

I reached my peak first and nearly cried out–but Sandor was faster. He captured my lips in another harsh kiss, spilling inside me. I felt how his body tensed, pressed up against me. Still seeing stars, I let him release my leg back down, though I appreciated him still holding me close. I swore under my breath at how unsteady I felt and I heard Sandor chuckle. An oddly comforting thing, that disembodied rough chuckle in the dark.

I pulled up my smallclothes and straightened my skirts, wincing at the mess that spilled from me. I did not care if his seed quickened, though. Thankfully I was no longer a maiden and knew my sums better than I used to. My monthly blood was still far away and I had more time to take precautions.

My release did make everything better, but I still was not finished with my game of teasing the bull.

“When was the last time you took a bath, Sandor?”

I could not really see it, but I knew his brows were tightly pinched together.

“Last week, I think. Why? Does this dog’s stink offend your ladyship?”

“No,” I chuckle. “Have no fear. I know who you are and I still enjoy your company.”

That, I gathered, stunned him more than a blow to the head could. I heard his clothes rustle. He was putting himself back in order, too.

“The smell of blood and sweat,” he grunted. “Some twisted tastes you have, woman.”

I put my hands in front of me and grabbed at his tunic to pull him closer. This time, he obeyed. I pressed myself against him and I could feel his breath quickening.

“Some twisted tastes, indeed,” I hummed and moved to rest my cheek against his chest. “But I wish we could go somewhere else. Somewhere far away from Casterly Rock.”

Somewhere far away from my sister’s husband, is what I truly wished to say and Sandor knew it well. I could feel him stirring uncomfortably, undoubtedly unsure what to say to that. I knew then that I let myself say too much.

“Well, we’ve got that. The two of us here, nice and private, as the lady commands.”

“Very amusing.”

“I do try.”

His hands moved from my backside then and I felt his fingers in my hair. True to the word he had once given, he was doing his best not to make too much of a mess of my braid. But I knew he liked my hair. He remarked on it often.

We were quiet then, just the two of us in that small dungeon under the barracks of Castle Casterly, and it was as close to peaceful as I have ever felt. I knew I was trying to hold on to this moment just a little bit longer, to somehow keep it from ending.

To my surprise, it was Sandor that broke our silence this time:

“I do not want to let you go yet.”

I knew what it meant, for him to speak his mind like that. I was fast to answer so as not to keep him in suspension:

“Nor I you.”

I wanted to say more; to say I wished he were mine and mine alone. But that would be foolish. I knew it could never be. I started to trace soothing circles on his back instead; something I knew he enjoyed very much.

After a moment, he spoke again, though his voice was less hoarse now:

“And if I said… I am yours as you are mine?”

The pang of emotion in my chest was as pleasant as it was scary.

“I would say that is all I want.” I placed my palm against his scarred cheek and felt him lean into the touch. “I want you,” I assure him. “I do not wish to be away from you. I do not wish to be married to a lord or a hedge knight or the first drunk who wins against Damion at cards. I want…”

But then the moment faded away and Sandor brought us back to reality:

“What we want doesn’t matter.”

We have been here before, I realised. This was not the first time when both of us wanted the same, but neither believed we could truly take it.

“You know I am no knight. No lord. I’m just their creature, I’m the Hound.”

“Do not say that.”

“But that’s the truth,” he replied, his voice harsh and grating like knives on stone. “I have killed more men than I could even remember. I’m scarred and ugly and hard to look at. You would not be getting a man, you would be getting a beast.”

I knew what he was doing, what he was trying to do. But this time, somehow, I did not want to cower before my better judgement. Winter was coming and I was growing tired.

“Well, fortunately I am good with wild creatures,” I declared in my best lady-like tone. “If I could make your Stranger eat my apple offerings, I am certain you are no more work than that.”

He went silent and even in the dim lighting of the dungeon I could see the conflict in his face.

“Never had a woman like you, with manners and all. I was never meant for any court. If we give in, you’d be wed to a brute.”

I exhaled and decided then that if after a decade the seasons were changing, I deserved a change as well. I have decided then to break the spell of misfortune with a jape and took a step closer to sniff at his neck.

“Well, as your lady wife I could at least make you bathe more often. If that is not a credit to my taming skills, I do not know what would be.”

He laughed at that and even though his laughter would always be short-lived, I still took that as a victory.

“Fuck the court then, eh?” he said and gently held my face in his rough, calloused hands.

“Fuck the court,” I said sternly, and I knew my swearing always took him by surprise, “and fuck their dances, and fuck their hedge knights. May they all dance themselves off the cliffs of Casterly Rock! And may Ser Damion die of a bloody flux. I hope it is painful.”

“Aye,” Sandor chuckled again and kissed the top of my head. “It is. But do not let them hear you cast your spells. I will do much, but I will not save you from a burning pyre.”

It would not matter if they burned me to ash tomorrow for true. Today I finally had hope.

“I want to be your wife,” I declared. “I want them all to know who protects me. I know you will protect me. They are all afraid of you and–”

“Look at me,” he ordered and I did so at once. “You say this… And you say this knowing what I am? Knowing why they are all afraid?”

“I do not care,” I replied, now close to tears from thinking he would not agree after all. “My good-brother is in charge of my money and in charge of me. I have nothing of my own, no reputation, no lands or keep. Truth be told, you are marrying down, Sandor.”

He laughed at that and I cherished the sound. I adored making the mask fall.

“You are taking advantage of me, woman, is that it?” he rasped, though now his voice lacked all that anger. He seemed almost happy.

“Yes, Sandor Clegane,” I grinned. “I have cast my spells and ensnared you in my power. All of our combined riches of one dragon and two stags shall get us as far as… The Trident, most likely. After that we shall both be whores, but we shall be very happy, indeed.”

“Careful, woman,” he snarled, though his eyes showed no anger.

“Pardon me, my lord.” I gave him my best curtsy.

That earned me a hard squeeze of my backside, but I had no regrets.

“Do you have no fears, then?” he rasped, his hand playing with my hair again. “None at all?”

“Well, I do not particularly care for spiders��”

“By the gods, woman! About me, I meant.”

“Then, no.” My grin grew wider. “You are many things, but you are not a monster, Sandor. I know I can believe your words if you say you would not hurt me.”

“Never.” He rushed to answer this and his hands immediately tightened around my waist. “But I will hurt anyone around you if I need to keep you safe. I will keep you safe, the rest of them can fucking burn.”

“Then I shall dance on the ashes,” I japed again, though my heart threatened to burst out of my chest from happiness. “Come then. Let us find some drunk Septon, I hear your Lord Tyrion knows a few.”

Sandor chuckled and took me by the hand to lead us out of the dungeon.

“He is your cousin.”

“Only by marriage. Remember, I am a Crakehall. Wild boars and lions are not exactly friendly.”

“And hounds are? You are mad.”

“You better wed me fast, then. Such a grand prospect shall not wait forever. But after that, I never want to see or hear the name ‘Lannister’ ever again. ”

We stopped on our way up the stairs and to my astonishment Sandor kissed me right then and there. He looked me in the eye, solemn as always, no doubt waiting for me to change my mind. But I would not. Not when he had shown me what happiness tasted like.

“What is it?” I asked.

“This may be the most foolish thing I have ever done,” he grumbled. “And that’s saying something.”

I took his hands in mine and shook my head, smiling in a way I hoped was encouraging and not entirely deranged from joy.

“I am the unreasonable one, Sandor. You shall be my reasonable husband that tames my wicked nature, remember?”

“Am I now?” He smirked. “So you do take me for a husband? I ain’t even civilised enough to know the… vows.”

“Neither does the Septon, if we get one drunk enough to agree to wed us.”

“Nothing will change your mind, then?”

“Nothing shall save you now from this predicament. The hounds are out, the boars are slain, the… I do seem to have run out of house sigils for my japes, but you do know my meaning, I hope?”

“Aye,” he said and this time he seemed to have believed me. “That I do, woman. Now, let us get you that Septon so that I can bed you long and proper.”

#Sandor Clegane fic #Sandor Clegane x reader #Sandor Clegane fics #Sandor Clegane fanfic #asoiaf fanfic #Sandor Clegane x ofc #Sandor Clegane x original characters #game of thrones fanfic #game of thrones fic #sandor clegane fanfiction

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seoulcheonsa · 7 months

Text

Closure

Mingyu (SVT) x fem!reader Tags: angst, slight fluff, but this is just angst until the end (a little comfort?) WC: 2.5k Warnings: nothing aside from angst im sorry

in which ex!mingyu and fem!reader see each other at their favorite resto

There was comfort in the silent chatter of the restaurant. The warm lights added a soft glow to her skin and everything else around. She sat alone near the floor-length windows, where the rest of the tables for 2 were. The place looked exactly like it did a year ago, the plants and décor, save for the new employees. It had been that long since she sat down in this restaurant, completely avoiding any chance of dining in this all-too-familiar venue.

A hushed conversation between a waiter and a new guest made her look up as they walked towards the tables. In between the diners who ate away and chatted away wove through a tall man that she would recognize anywhere. His hair was neatly swept off his forehead, a dashing smile on his face as he thanked the waiter, and his button-down shirt aptly pressed crisp.

Mingyu sat down, promptly looking around as his server took away the menu and put down his drink. She debated whether or not to keep her gaze, but her mental battle took too long because he had already locked his eyes onto hers. His stare changed from surprise to confusion to recognition in a few seconds, but not once did he break eye-contact. Her hands were in her lap, twisting in anxiety, so she grabbed onto the pendant that sat between her collarbones.

A year ago, this restaurant bustled just the same, but she never noticed it. How could she? When in front of her sat the most magnetic and charismatic man she has laid her eyes on. He carried himself with such confidence that never crossed over to arrogance, all while being kind and patient. No one else in that room could ever steal away her attention, she was a sunflower and he was the sun.

Mingyu’s smile never faltered as he cut up her food for her. He always insisted that unless necessary, she lean on him for anything, and he’ll do the rest. Both were firstborns in the family, and Mingyu knew the emotional tax that she had to pay for the rest of her life. Unlike him, she wasn’t lucky enough to be born to an ideal family. So, from the moment that their relationship progressed into something more serious, he told her “Baby, it’s time for you to accept things and accept happiness without worrying about the consequences.” Naturally, she was taken aback, hearing such words for the first time in her 2 decades of living.

Throughout their dating phase, she has always subtly refused a lot of his attempts at doing things for her, never wanting to be a burden, much less to the person she likes in fear of driving him away. That is, until one day a week after they had agreed to date exclusively, he wanted to buy her the computer keyboard that she had been eyeing for months. It wasn’t expensive, but it fairly costed more than a regular keyboard, so she knew she had to save for it. Mingyu, who had a better paying job, wanted to buy it for her as a gift. So, in the end, he bought it for her as a surprise, which led to a small argument, but Mingyu’s assurance struck something in her that made her realize how scared she had been of letting other people do things for her.

Their relationship was set to be endgame. Mingyu’s parents loved having her around, she was always invited over to their house for dinner, spontaneous trips, and holidays in a different city. Her family treated him like he was already part of the family, he was included in family dinners, get-togethers, and they relied on him like he was their son, cousin, and brother. They have met each other’s friends as well with no hitch. To them, this was it, and that was what Mingyu had always told her before they went to sleep.

“You’re it for me, baby,” he whispers as he tucks her hair behind her ear, laid across her with his other arm under her neck.

She giggles, softly hitting his shoulder. “Where is this coming from?” she says while shaking her head, a grin on her lips.

“Baby, you’re my dream girl. Everything I’ve ever wanted in a partner is in you,” he chuckles. “If 13-year-old me found out that you would be my girlfriend, he would never believe me.”

However, like any relationship, misunderstandings were inevitable. Mingyu always wanted to be the strong one in the relationship. He wanted everyone around him to be able to rely on him; and for that to happen, he felt like he could never show any of the struggles he faced. The one person he could never lie to was her, it would take every ounce of strength in his body and then some more to tell her anything other than the truth. Because that was her, she hated nothing more than liars and cheaters. Her family was torn apart by lies and infidelity, and he knew he would never be able to forgive himself if he made her go through that again. But Mingyu was Mingyu, and the last thing he wanted was for her to feel like she couldn’t lean on him just because he was having troubles of his own.

As a result, whenever things went wrong for him, he shut down and drowned himself in work. He took more projects at work, more responsibilities in hopes that if he had more work than problems, then he would never have to think of them. Ever observant, she would take notice that he would come home later than usual, avoiding conversations, and forgetting to take care of himself. For days, she would beg him to talk to her.

“What happened to me and you against the problem, baby?” she sobbed, sitting on the floor while he occupied the sofa, his head in his hands.

“I thought we always talked things out, that we’d never leave the other in the dark.”

“I’m sorry, love. I just got so caught up in everything, I thought I could just bury it all down.”

She looked up at him in disbelief. It was not just him forgetting to take care of himself, but he also forgot that there was someone at home waiting up for him every night, just to find out that he was purposefully avoiding her and sometimes even drinking out late at night without any notice. This led to smaller arguments and him lashing out at her for the smallest things, which he would then dismiss as just nothing. “So, you thought just lying to me and shutting me out was better?”

At this, he blanched, as if a bucket of cold water washed over him. He did not realize just how far he was in his head, even neglecting his dream girl in the process.

“No, baby. I’m sorry, okay? I don’t want us to fight over this, it physically hurts me when we fight,” he knelt next to her, one hand over his heart and the other cupping her jaw. “I’ll be better for you, no more hiding.”

For the following weeks, it was good. Mingyu communicated better, she learned when to give him space. But Mingyu was a man of habit, and she was too observant for her own good. The change in behavior only lasted for so long until they were back to their old habits. This meant that there was a suffocating tension between them that they never addressed until she exploded.

“How are you so okay with me begging for your time? Begging for you to talk to me?” She stood far from him on the other end of the coffee table. Her face was swollen from crying the whole day, her nose red. She had been waiting for him to get home the whole day, dreading this conversation that she felt might be the last. For weeks, she had asked him over and over if they were okay or if he was having any trouble. Because not only was he affected, but she was too and their relationship. It reached the point where she would assume the worst, because she knew nothing, and he told her nothing. She asked herself every day if she was lacking anything, if there was someone else who was giving him what he needed. This was not a thought she wanted to entertain, but when he was giving her all the reasons to think otherwise, what could she do?

“I’m not. I’m trying, okay?”

His curt answer only served to rile her up more. She felt pathetic and desperate, begging for her boyfriend to stop treating her like she was just a gust of wind. In the end, they decided to give it a break and just go to sleep. A feeling they both hated, but maybe they needed to give things a rest.

Things just sorted themselves in time. She got used to his absence, only asking how he was once in a while, and he kept engrossing himself in work. On his birthday, she surprised him with tickets to an amusement park that he’s been wanting to visit for about a year but never got to because of his schedule. She planned this trip for a month, making sure that he was free on that day.

For the rest of the month, they filled the roles of a sweet couple. The problem was swept under a carpet and left simmering. She knew that at one point, this would blow up in their faces. The way they were acting like they were just playing their parts was unsustainable. It felt like the relationship was superficial.

“I need you to sit down for what I’m about to tell you,” he looked at her with sad eyes. Her heart dropped to her stomach, and she started bracing herself for the worst. It was like she went through all the stages of grief all at once in her head.

He explained that while on his way from work a week before, he felt lonely. It was his birthday week, and he was looking for someone to come talk to him; so his solution was to download an app and find a person to keep him company. The sinking feeling was gnawing at her, but she kept a straight face. She expected this anyway, so there was no surprise in what he was saying. However, the betrayal that she felt was nothing like she anticipated, nothing could ever prepare her for the gut-wrenching feeling of being betrayed by the person you thought would never hurt you.

“I’ve been begging you for months to talk to me, begging for even 15 minutes of your time so we can sort things out,” she started with resignation in her voice, “but you wanted to go and find a stranger to talk to, to keep you company on your birthday?”

“I promise you nothing else happened, and I didn’t end up meeting anyone.”

“I don’t fucking care. You had a girlfriend at home, willing to make everything work, but you just find it so easy to keep treating me like I’m nothing. And now you’re out here acting like you’re fucking single. You can’t even be bothered to text me that you’ll be out late because you were out drinking with your friend and her boyfriend.”

“How could you look at me and tell me you love me?”

Mingyu spent the night crying and apologizing. He knew he didn’t deserve any forgiveness, but he at least wanted to let her know that he was sorry and that he didn’t cheat. That same night, her best friend picked her up along with a bag of clothes and a heavy heart.

After the fallout, they had a conversation to discuss what happened and finalize the breakup. There, she found out that the reason he was shutting her out was that Mingyu’s family was falling apart, and that his boss at work was giving him a hard time. His parents were getting into constant screaming matches and fights, needlessly dragging him into the arguments. At work, his boss berated him on almost a daily basis and criticized his work that was otherwise praised by the rest of the company. As they talked, she understood, like she always did. Like she would have if only he had told her, but it was too late.

Mingyu was never a bad guy in her eyes, nor was he a bad guy in reality. He was always patient, understanding, and he only ever wanted to take care of her and her needs. However, in the midst of all that, he forgot to take a moment to check on himself and cope properly. In the end, he neglected himself and those around him. He always put others first, but it ultimately destroyed him and his relationship.

He noticed her fingers wrapped around the red pendant upon her chest, a gift that he saved his first ever paycheck for. It was a dainty gold necklace with a red clover that hung from it. He always thought that she looked her best in red, so he decided on the color and a clover because she had always been his lucky charm. His dream girl, sitting tables away from him still donning the gift he worked so hard for, in their favorite restaurant. Mingyu wanted to walk over to her table and catch up, maybe find the words to ask if she still felt the same after all this time. However, he knew deep down that that wasn’t best for them.

When Mingyu’s eyes flitted down for a second, she became all too aware that she was holding onto her necklace. A habit that she did to soothe her nerves. She knew he recognized the necklace; it was the only thing she kept after storing away all the gifts he gave; the keyboard, the game merch, and even the restaurant napkins that he wrote little notes on. It was the only thing she kept, because even after all this time, it still gave her comfort, like she’s somehow still hearing reassurance. However, that was the end of it, she only kept it because of the sentiment and the memory that once upon a time, she loved deeply and that she was loved dearly.

With a sigh, they exchanged small smiles – a quiet understanding that they tried, but they’ve come to the end of their chapters in each other’s lives long ago. He mouthed a “thank you” to her, which she responded to with a nod of her head before looking away.

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hi! i'm sorry this was a little hurtful, but this one is a little personal to me hhh i hope you guys liked it. i needed to let this one out before going back to studying :D don't be shy to come to talk to me about how this made you feel! <3

#mingyu scenarios #mingyu angst #kim mingyu scenarios #kim mingyu angst #seventeen angst #svt imagines #svt angst #svt fanfic #seventeen fic #kim mingyu #mingyu #seventeen #seventeen scenarios

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sleekervae · 7 months

Text

New York Romantic .6

Masterlist

a/n: Hi everyone, thanks again for your patience! This chapter is a little shorter and there's not as much dialogue as there is a lot of dancing. I had a lot of fun researching some of the dances for the Nutcracker ballet, and while I hoped to have this chapter up by Christmas, March 1st isn't so bad either 😅

pairing: Tom Blyth x ballerina!oc

summary: tom attends noelle's recital

word count: 2,759

taglist: @watercolorskyy @carolanns-world @alana4610

Tom wasn't so sure how he found himself sitting across from Noelle's family at a local breakfast eatery, somewhere along his morning Franca had insisted that he come along. And it went without saying that he was grateful for the meal, it had been a while since Tom had the privilege of eating out while on his student budget.

Maurice was an investment banker who worked for a smaller banking branch in Maine, tall with a shiny bald head, a seasoned gentleman of respectable stature with deep smile lines and wise eyes. Meanwhile Franca was an architect, a lavish yet simply dressed woman with long auburn hair, and freckles were scattered across her cheeks and nose. Chiara was a couple years younger then Noelle, her curly hair was much more reminiscent of her mother's but it was easy to draw facial comparisons between the cousins. She was a senior at some fancy private school, and whatever was on her phone proved to be much more interesting then conversation with the table crowd.

"So, Tom," Maurice looked to him as he stirred his tea, "Have you always wanted to get into show business?" he asked.

"Not at first," Tom replied, "I wasn't quite sure what I wanted to do at first, but my mum signed me up for some drama classes and my father worked in the film industry, so it all just kind of fell into place,"

"And where'd you grow up in England?" Franca asked, resting her chin on her locked fingers.

"York,"

"Oh, lovely! It's just North of Leeds, yes?"

"That's right,"

"Maurice and I were debating where to go for our fifteenth wedding anniversary, and I've heard such lovely things about that town," she said, "Alas, we settled on Marseilles and toured a bit through Southern France,"

"That sounds beautiful!" Tom awed, glancing Noelle's way, "Did you go, too?"

Noelle shook her head, "Nope, Chiara and I were manning the house for two weeks," she replied.

"It was so peaceful," Chiara added, her gaze still fixed on her phone. Maurice cleared his throat abruptly, staring down his daughter as she swiftly got the hint and put her phone away.

"Anyway," he then grumbled, "What do you want to do when you graduate, Tom? Theatre? Movies?"

"Movies, ideally. But I'd be open to wherever the wind blows me," he replied.

"I went to see his improv show last week," Noelle said, "He was really good!"

Tom shrugged, praying his cheeks wouldn't tinge, "I -- I mean I was okay..."

Noelle cocked her head down, giving him a playful glare, "Oh, c'mon. You were great. And I say so, so it must be true," she grinned. He couldn't help it then, Tom averted his gaze to his plate but nonetheless he was blushing.

Chiara scoffed under her breath, "You two are just adorable," she muttered sarcastically.

Tom watched Noelle roll her eyes, never the less her fingers fidgeted as she went to pick up her coffee cup. A sip of something to quell his dry throat sounded like a good idea, a pleasant cooling off before Tom could find himself swept up in the memory of that kiss yet again.

"Anyway," Franca cut in, "How's Bianca doing, Noelle?"

"Good!" Noelle nodded quickly, thankful the spotlight was off her for the moment, "She made it Maine just before the snow storm hit,"

"Is she gonna be back in time for the showcase?" Chiara asked.

"She's supposed to be back the morning of,"

Tom raised a brow, "Why didn't she leave after the showcase?" he asked.

Noelle shrugged listlessly, "She likes Christmas in Manhattan better,"

"-- Is Derek gonna come down?" Chiara asked, her interest seemingly peaking more than it had all morning. Derek was Bianca's older brother, as Noelle had told previously.

"I guess we'll find out," Noelle replied.

Maurice's gaze narrowed, "And if he were, what would you have in common with a twenty-six-year-old college drop out, anyway?" he asked gruffly.

Franca swiftly elbowed her husband, an urgent smile plastered to her lips as she stared him down pointedly, "Perhaps we can find something more relevant to talk about?" she suggested, turning back to Tom, "Have you been to any of the ballet recitals, Tom?"

Tom shook his head, "I haven't yet. This will be my first," he replied.

"We're so excited to see it. This will be Noelle's first big part in a production," she beamed.

Maurice nodded along, cutting into his egg-white omelette, "She's our little Sugar Plum Fairy!" he awed. None of them paid attention to Chiara's eye-roll.

Noelle grimaced, a bashful grin befalling her as Tom turned to her, "You didn't tell me that," he said.

She shrugged back sheepishly, "... Oh... didn't I?" she chuckled.

"No, you did not," he drawled back, "That's fantastic!"

"Well -- I still have a lot of practice to do before Friday, so we'll see," Noelle didn't like drawing too much attention to herself in that rhetoric. She was grateful for the opportunity, though nevertheless she knew the recital wasn't all about her.

"Are you gonna do her makeup, Chiara?" Franca asked her daughter.

Chiara shrugged back, glancing at her cousin, "Do you want me to do your makeup?"

"Of course I do!" Noelle nodded, "I'm no where near as good as you,"

"Alright, sure then," Chiara barely got the words out as she turned to her phone once again.

Maurice took the conversation again, folding his hands before his plate and twitching his nose, "Tom, why don't you join us on Wednesday? We reserved a box for four,"

"It'll be a great view of the stage," Franca added.

Tom was flattered, though he didn't want to impose, "Oh, I don't -- I don't want to intrude on you guys like that,"

Franca shook her head, "Please, it's not intruding if we invite you -- that's what my mother always used to say, anyhow," she chuckled.

"Have you bought your ticket?" Maurice asked.

"Yes," Tom replied.

"Well then, you're already set up," he told him, "I insist, and we can head out for dinner after,"

Tom turned to Noelle, her smile was bordering on confident, but she hoped that he wouldn't feel too pressured. After all, she knew her family could be a bit much and they had all only just met. But he didn't see the harm; her family was so nice and the view of the stage was promised to be excellent. And if it meant having a better view of Noelle, who was he to pass that up?

"Alright, if you're sure I'll be happy join you," he decided.

Friday was the twenty-third, and despite Christmas Day being just around the corner, the hustle and bustle of New York never stopped. Neither did the cold. It hadn't snowed again but the nefarious east coast arctic fronts swept through the streets; icicles were formed off of passing trucks and the sidewalks and roads were awash in various colours of crushed melting salts. And the cold certainly didn't deter eager shoppers to tick off last minute Christmas gifts from their lists.

Tom wasn't sure what he was supposed to wear to a ballet recital, he didn't want to overdress but he certainly didn't want to look sloppy either. His mum had shipped over some more clothes a couple weeks prior, nicer slacks, dress shirts, a couple pairs of shoes that definitely weren't ice-friendly. Nevertheless, he settled for a white t-shirt and blazer jacket sat over some dark jeans, and his trainers that at least wouldn't send him skidding with one wrong move.

The last few days had flown by rather quickly, and surprisingly, Tom always found that he had something to do. Usually hanging out with Jordan; he introduced Tom to a plethora of video games ranging from Super Mario to Zelda. It was one of the few things Tom found Jordan didn't complain about. And when they weren't inside playing video games, they were out exploring Times Square.

And this worked out quite well because when Noelle wasn't spending time with her family, she was always rehearsing. But in the evenings they would spend time together, watch more movies and just relax. Tom was practicing his cooking skills as well, nothing too fancy but he perfected how to cook salmon in a pan and boiling rice. Noelle was grateful too, especially as her muscles ached from her practice. The more time they spent together, the more fascinated they became with each other.

The campus was typically closed for the holidays, making exceptions for shows such as this. Audience members were lined up just outside the auditorium door, shielded from the cold within campus but still bundled up in long or heavy coats, scarves and hats.

Tom found Noelle's family already settled in their balcony seats, Franca spotted him first and waved him down. And just as Maurice had said, there was an excellent view of the stage from their spot. The heavy red curtain was drawn over the stage, dim mood light reflecting off the material and back on the shadowy faces mingling in the crowd.

Backstage meanwhile was a calamity mess, stage hands rushing to finish prop placement, sets, and stage cues. The ballerinas were also making their last minute touch ups, makeup, hair, tutus, dusting their slippers in rosin and some even sewing their tights and ribbons to their slippers to keep everything snug and in place. Noelle however was dawdling behind the curtain, peaking out through the sliver at the side to skim over obscure faces.

It was a delicate balance, trying to locate her family without being too conspicuous, but after a bit of searching, she spotted them. Chiara was engrossed in her phone, bathed in the soft glow of the screen, while Uncle Maurice struggled to free himself from his coat. Aunt Franca was deep in conversation with Tom, who, despite the dim lighting, seemed to blend into the shadows effortlessly, though he appeared to be holding his own in their lively discussion. Noelle's stomach was aflutter, not from the performance unfolding before her, but from the sight of Tom. Her attention was fixed on him, and the magic of the evening's entertainment paled in comparison.

"Noelle!" Stanis' voice bellowed behind her, he was storming her way as Noelle turned, "Pre-show in two minutes!"

Tom found Franca fascinating. She was a captivating woman, full of vibrant tales from her travels to exotic locales. Her stories were peppered with encounters with intriguing characters from whom she had negotiated for unique souvenirs to add to her collection. Nevertheless, Tom's anticipation grew as he eagerly awaited the start of the show. His eyes couldn't help but flicker towards the curtain, eager to catch a glimpse of Noelle as the curtain would lift. His curiosity and excitement were palpable, adding to the charged atmosphere of the evening.

And sure enough the lights dimmed down to near darkness, a single spotlight illuminating a spot on the curtains. The theater was alive with excitement as the curtains rose, revealing a beautifully adorned stage set for "The Nutcracker" ballet. Tom sat back in his seat, his eyes wide with anticipation, taking in the magical scene unfolding before him. The stage was transformed into a winter wonderland, with a backdrop of snow-covered trees that stretched up to a starry sky. The stage was lit with a soft, moonlit glow, casting a magical aura over the scene. Glittering snowflakes fell gently from above, adding to the enchantment of the setting. The dancers moved gracefully across the stage, each step perfectly choreographed to Tchaikovsky's enchanting music.

The Miniature March Dance began, and the stage came alive with the lively and charming movements of the young dancers. They moved with precision and grace, their movements synchronized to the playful notes of the music. The choreography was intricate, with the dancers forming intricate formations and patterns, showcasing their skill and talent. Tom was captivated by the youthful exuberance of the performers, as were the audience, and the dance brought a smile to everyone's face.

As the performance unfolded, Tom found his eyes repeatedly drawn to Noelle, who gracefully moved among the dancers. Clad in a celestial white gown, she seemed to float across the stage, her every movement a dance of ethereal beauty. While she was currently a background presence in the performance, Tom couldn't help but be mesmerized by her presence, captivated by her effortless grace and enchanting allure.

Next came the Arabian Dance, and Bianca took centre stage. A hush fell over the audience. She was a vision of grace and lithe elegance, moving with a captivating fluidity that mesmerized all who watched. Her every movement was deliberate and confident, exuding a subtle but undeniable aura of cockiness.

Bianca's performance was a masterclass in control and precision, her movements perfectly synchronized to the haunting melody of the music. As she danced, she seemed to command the stage, drawing the audience into her world with a confident allure that was impossible to ignore. The Arabian Dance was no easy feat and Tom had to give Bianca credit where credit was due, however he couldn't help but feel slightly unnerved as her gaze always seemed to land on him time and time again.

Soon enough it was Noelle's time to shine. As the familiar notes of the Sugar Plum Fairy dance began to fill the theatre, Tom's gaze was immediately drawn to Noelle, who had taken centre stage. She looked radiant in her tutu, rose gold detailing shimmering in the lights, her gorgeous long hair tied back in a sleek up-do, and a delicate, shiny tiara placed upon her head. She looked like a true princess, her every movement a testament to her skill and grace. Despite the beauty of the dance unfolding before him, Tom found it impossible to tear his eyes away from Noelle, his admiration for her growing with each passing moment.

Noelle, for her part, felt a mixture of nerves and excitement as she danced. She had dreamed of this moment for years, to prove herself worthy of the role of the Sugar Plum Fairy, and now that it was finally here, she couldn't help but feel a surge of nervous excitement. However, as she danced, it wasn't the perfection of her performance that consumed her thoughts, but the way her stomach fluttered with butterflies every time she caught Tom's gaze. It was a feeling unlike any other, a mix of joy, nerves, and she could see the admiration and affection in his gaze, which both thrilled and humbled her.

As the dance reached its climax, Tom found himself holding his breath, completely captivated by Noelle's performance. She danced with a grace and elegance that took his breath away, her every movement a testament to her talent and dedication. He couldn't help but think back to the moments he had seen her exhausted, bruised, and drained after long hours of practice. He could only imagine the dedication and hard work she had put in to reach this point, and it filled him with a deep sense of admiration for her. All those late nights and early mornings had led to this moment, and as he watched her graceful movements across the stage, he felt a swell of pride knowing that he had witnessed a small part of her journey to this incredible achievement. He swore he could've watched her -- become lost in her -- forever.

As the final notes of the dance faded away and Noelle took her bow, the audience erupted into applause, but Tom's eyes never left Noelle, his adoration for her greater than ever. She glanced up briefly, trying desperately not to become so overwhelmed with the applause, and her gaze fixating on Tom once more. His beaming smile was all the validation she needed in that moment.

The show progressed on, right up until the final Pas de Deux between the Sugar Plum Fairy and the Nutcracker. Tom watched among the crowd, his heart racing with a realization that took him by surprise. In that moment, he couldn't deny the truth to himself any longer. Watching her dance, he had felt something more than admiration or friendship. It was a crush, a flutter of emotions that he had been trying to ignore but now couldn't deny. Tom realized that he had developed feelings for Noelle, captivated by her everything. And if the previous few days had been anything to go by, there was a slim chance that she too felt the same way.

If only his own uncertainty wouldn't hold him back.

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