Title: "Shirt and Car"

Pairing: Fugo x (Trish's sister) reader

Type: fluff

Word Count: 1380

~

You're scared.

Able to keep the fear buried within the darkest places in your mind, you keep composed and brave. After all, your sister Trish is acting the same way, holding herself together.

But inside, you're terrified.

Your father, who's never showed an interest in you, has ordered his organization to bring you and Trish to him.

Why?

No clue.

Supposedly to protect you from traitors who want to overthrow his reign. But, is that really the reason?

You have second thoughts about meeting your father and you know Trish must feel the same way, although she hasn't talked to you about it.

Your relationship with her is not exactly the best, in fact, you often get into spats with her over her prissy personality. She retaliates, stating something disdainful about you.

In the end, you find it better to avoid talking with her. She reciprocates the feeling.

You casually sweep the floor in front of a bathroom, your sister and the older man close by. Some people are going to take responsibility of you two and they're supposed to be here any second.

You're nervous, but keep it covered by a concentrated expression.

Fixing your disguise, you hum as you sweep.

Faintly, you hear the sounds of an argument, glancing up to see Trish holding her pocket knife against some kid.

As the confrontation grows, with the boy pulling out his own blade, you lean against your broom, about ready to whack sense into them both.

"Narancia, stop!" A firm voice commands.

Your eyes shoot to the speaker and you realize that there is quite a sizeable audience.

The one to catch your eye the most is a blond male with clothes riddled with holes. He's wearing a tie beneath his coat with a strawberry design on it.

He's rather handsome.

In fact, they all are.

Are these the men who will guard you?

"Bow!" The man in a white suit with speckles of black demands the others with him. They obey, showing reverence to the older gang member.

"Sir, it is an honour-" the male says, and you find yourself ignoring them.

Transfixed, you observe each member, noting their clothes and hairstyles, taking too long to watch the hole-riddled man.

His attention goes to you as he feels eyes on him. Caught, you look away. Suddenly, your broom seems very interesting.

"These are the Boss's daughters, Trish and Y/n Una. You are to protect them and bring them safely to the Boss," Mr. Pericolo informs them.

Shyly, you glance up at the men, while Trish remains emotionless.

You wave your hand a bit, wishing the ground would bury you. Why is this so awkward?

"Pleased to meet you both," Bucciarati bows.

A smile cautiously appears on your face, "Same."

Trish walks past them, "I need to use the bathroom."

"Me too," you mumble, following close behind her.

"Fugo, Narancia, Mista, go with them. Our assignment has already begun."

The words strike a chord with you as you realize you won't have any alone time again. Bodyguards will shadow your every move.

In the bathroom, you use the utilities before getting out of your disguise. Now left in a tank-top and jeans, you wash your face.

Letting the water dribble down, you glance at Trish who's also changed and is now washing her hands.

She walks purposefully towards the door and two boys follow, one waiting patiently for you. It's the one you couldn't stop looking at.

You smile timidly, lowering your head and walking after the others.

Once you get there, Trish points at the man clothed in green, "Take off your coat."

The man's purple eyes widen, "Me?"

"Yes. Don't worry, I'm not doing this because I want to see you shirtless."

You frown at your sister, what is she doing? Although, your cheeks heat up at the idea of the hot stranger being without a shirt.

He unbuttons his shirt and hands it to her, face heating as you take in his well-defined abs. You attempt to divert your gaze but your eyes won't budge. He looks so good in that tie...

Trish proceeds to use his coat to dry off her hands. She gives it back after.

Embarrassed, you smack her shoulder, "Why would you do that?!"

"I don't have a handkerchief, so go buy me one. Also, get some blush, not the cheap kind either, and reinforced tights. Mineral water too, although I'd die if I drank anything not from France," she tells you and the men, walking away without a second glance.

Horrified at her bratty behaviour, you swivel to face the male.

He's frozen for a second before he smashes the piece of clothing to the ground out of anger.

You flinch at the action, ashamed that Trish would treat him like that.

Quick as a flash, you bend down and lift his shirt, "I'm so sorry!"

As you apologize, he looks at you in stunned silence before shaking his head, "Don't apologize, you didn't do anything."

"Exactly, I should have stopped her from behaving that way," you hand him the clothing, head bowed, "Forgive me."

Bewildered, he looks to his friends for assistance. They seem as shocked as him.

He takes the shirt, "There's nothing to forgive, miss."

"Please don't call me that," you say, smiling, "It's just Y/n."

His lips twitch into a smile, "Okay, Y/n."

"You're..?"

"Pannacotta Fugo," he supplies.

You smile again, "Sorry again, Fugo."

He then notices the leftover water glistening on your face. Without thinking, he carefully wipes the water off with his coat.

You stiffen at the unexpected action as the others watch in stunned silence. No one notices Trish's knowing smirk.

Realizing what he just did, he wrenches his hand away, face aflame with embarrassment.

You blush as well, "T-thank you."

The one in a hat elbows Fugo's side roughly, earning a glare.

"Let's go, we have orders from the Boss."

|||||

In the spacious car, you sit across form Fugo, a bit further behind him as well.

You silently observe the space outside the vehicle, thinking over your life, blushing when you recall Fugo touching your cheek.

The man himself is staring at you without reserve, thinking to himself about how brave and amazing you are for remaining so kind and thoughtful through all this.

"I can't blame you man, I can't stop staring either," Mista slinging his arm around Fugo's shoulders. "She's so freakin' hot. Trish too."

"Huh?" Fugo realizes that he's been blankly gaping at your chest and flushes.

"N-no! I-I wasn't-" his protests are cut off as the driver slams on the breaks.

Fugo is propelled forwards directly onto you. His head resting comfortably and awkwardly against your bosom.

You look down at him in surprise. His purple eyes are filled with embarrassment and fear. You would love to get lost in his pools of amethyst.

"Oh my gosh! Please forgive him! He didn't do it to get closer to your boobs or cop a feel! It was simply an accident, not a ploy to touch you!" Mista shouts, waving his arms wildly.

Fugo shoots to his feet, furiously glaring at his friend, "You're making it worse idiot! It was actually an accident! You're making it sound planned out!"

You sheepishly observe them, "I-I know it was an accident. I didn't mind anyways."

Registering what you just said, you heat up and rub the back of your neck. How could I say that?!

"Y-you didn't?" Fugo stammers.

You chuckle and shrug, looking away.

Mista whistled, "Fugo, you're lucky man!"

"Shut up, Mista!"

"Wanna sit here?" You pat the seat next to you, somehow brave enough to ask him. Something about him draws you to him, he's irresistible.

He nods, doing as you suggested.

At first, he sits there silently before you say, "This is all so strange."

"I can imagine. You had no idea about any of this and now suddenly you're thrown into this situation. It must be incredibly rough," he sympathizes.

"It is. But at least I'm not going through it all alone."

"I swear, we will protect you both no matter what, Y/n," he states firmly.

Smiling, you allow yourself to lean against him, "Thanks, Fugo."