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spidergenius · 9 months

Note

oh my goood i'm in love with your tangerine fics <33 if that's alright, may i request something with a nonbinary reader please? maybe something cute and domestic like grocery shopping or doing chores. thank you in advance <3

A/N: Thanks so much! I'm glad you like these words i spew out anon! And yes of course, a domestic, fluffy and slightly smutty Tangerine x nb!Reader fic it is!

Normal Day

Tags: Tangerine x nb!reader, no use of Y/N, They/Them for Reader, merc!Reader, cursing, not brit picked, fluff and smut, implied smut, domestic fluff, doing everyday things, soft!Tangerine, reference to Avengers Age of Ultron, reference to Pietro from AOU

Tangerine and you finally get a week off together, so you decided to do ‘normal couples stuff’ because despite it all, getting to do things together with Tangerine is the best way to spend a week off.

—

Tangerine and you rarely ever get a day off in sync. The unfortunate routine was; whenever you had a week between missions, he'd be halfway across the world with his twin in some life-threatening work while you busy yourself in the house, and vice versa. You and him would call, obviously, late at night while it's early in the day for him. He'd tell you the latest gist of what's going on in his mission while you try to fight off the hands of slumber and stay up for your boyfriend. Once, when you were in Borneo for an intel mission, Tangerine called you in the middle of the day, surprising you whilst you were on the runway to get on your helicopter. What amused you was how dedicated he was to calling you at the right time despite having to wake up at 5 AM, and Tangerine is not a morning person; despite his defense.

So yes, a day off together is truly a rare occurrence.

You and Tangerine are spending the month in your apartment in Queens, running from London's usual rain. You awake slowly, feeling Tangerine's strong arms wrapped around you and his mustaches tickling your nape from where he's snuggling. You chuckle, cherishing the warmth of his body and the rays penetrating the blinds as the sun makes its entrance. Tangerine pulls you closer despite already flushed chest to back with you, and you sigh in content. Your eyes travel to his hands, just below you chest, splayed possesively over your nightshirt. Scars and weak tissues litter his long fingers, his knuckles just healed enough after his last mission, veins slightly prominent on fair skin.

His hands move slightly, now one is balled on the sheets in front of you while the other presses on your stomach. You feel his eyelashes flutter behind you, knowing soon your boyfriend will awake and you'll get to spend the week with him. A week! Not just a day off, a week! God, you're excited.

Carefully, you bring his free hand to your lips and press on the various scars scattered on it. One kiss, then two, then the ones on the back of his hand, then on his knuckles and following to the tips of his finger, until you feel him humming awake when you kiss his palm, breathing in his scent, trailing down to press your lips against the vein that indicates his consciousness.

"Mornin' darling," The low vibration of his morning voice is intoxicating. You humm as the hand that you were holding cups your jaw, running calloused fingers softly on your cheek, turning you so you meet blue eyes shattered with gold from the sun. His face is relaxed, cheeks dusted pink highlighting the gleams of healed scars that he usually kept under makeup, a small smile on his lips. His curls are a shade lighter, illuminated by the rays peeking through. Unruly bed hair is what Tangerine calls it, but despite it you're obsessed with how it makes him look. Without his gell, his hair would travel down and cover his ears, then curls adorably on his forehead. Not to mention that's the same hairstyle when he's screaming your name at night.

Truly ethereal.

You blink, focusing wholly on the warmth on your face as he traces circles just near your eye, his fingers tangling your hair. His eyes gazes down to your lips, making you grin, before you push yourself enough to kiss him. He moves to hold your hip, smoothing down the fabric as your hand finds his strong chest, the smallest of hair felt beneath your fingers. His lips sealed over yours, lazy pecks until you slip your tongue into his and he makes a hum of approval. Its warm and soothing, awaking the sensation you and Tangerine shared last night, and you'd love to continue and spend the whole week fucking him but you had other plans, and you needed to get them in motion.

Shifting beneath the comforter, you break the languid kiss and position yourself on top of him, your legs between his while you rest on his chest, getting a good view of a slightly grumpy and aroused Tangerine.

"Hey," You chuckle, one hand reaches to smoothe a curls away from his eye.

"Hello you," He smiles then raises a questioning brow. You huff, dropping your head to rest on him, his steady heart beat relaxing you.

"I was thinking," You started, Tangerine busy playing with your bed hair. "We can do some…. Everyday things, today,"

He scoffs, making you pick your head up in question. "'Everyday things'?"

"Yeah, y'know like uh… Clean our office, do the laundry, or go get groceries, we are out of cheese so-"

"So like, do our chores or sumn'?"

You pouted, making your boyfriend's brows shot up. "No, I mean like… Domestic stuff, the things couples do everyday?"

Suddenly, Tangerines face reddens and he blinks, once, twice, before he stutters. "D-domestic like… normal stuff?"

"Yeah, i think that'd be fun, a little different than our jobs y'know," You smile, bright and wide almost as blinding as the sun outside Tangerine gapes, then slowly the red from his face dissipates into a smirk.

"Well, if you're thingkin' 'bout normal-coupley stuff, let's start here yeah?" His hands are suddenly on your waist, fingers digging at your skin.

"What do–" Then he suddenly grinds between your legs, a low groan punched out of you. You glare at Tangerine, his signature smirk in place and more coy than ever. "Alright, let's do that,"

—

If you and Tangerine ended up leaving the bed at 10 instead of 8 then that's no one's fault, you were simply following your boyfriend's wishes.

After showering together—And spending another hour cleaning each other and sharing kisses—You dressed for the day and began preparing breakfast. While you were busy making the pancake batter, you could hear Tangerine in the bedroom humming to himself, probably picking an intricate top to go with his also intricate trousers. You smile to yourself, knowing despite the day off he'll always dress extra. You picked something to rival him, of course; a sleek white dress shirt and dark gray pants, with the belt that Tangerine got you on a 'impulsive' spending spree.

Finally, when two plates of pancakes are ready and so is Tangerines morning tea, the man himself exits the bedroom, clothes, hair and makeup ready for the day. He takes a seat on the kitchen island next to you and you retire your phone to pay attention to him, whistling when you take in his outfit. Navy waistcoat with matching trousers, a white top with a sheer pattern that ghosts over the color.

"What gala are we going to, babe?" You snicker, earning a huff from him before he starts eating, and so do you.

Half an hour spent talking about mundane things around the infosphere. The recent politician who's done something dumb again, the weather, the prediction of the weather, and the small crime that the police have hyperbole enough to make it into the news. You and Tangerine shared a laugh at that last one, knowing most of the shit you both do is worth putting in museums instead of the lowly cops.

After doing the dishes together, you open your phone to the list about today that you've planned since last night.

"So, since we're both dressed to go out," Tangerine takes a seat beside you, his arm already resting behind the couch. "I'm thinking we do grocery first, get the stuff we're out," He nodded.

"I've put our shopping list here, is there anything you wanna add?"

Tangerine reads the screen. "Why's my shampoo there? ain't it still enough for another month?"

"Well… about that," You avoid your boyfriend's questioning eyes while your face reddens, before he slowly catches up and takes a whiff of your hair, holding you by the shoulders while you giggle and try to pry yourself away.

"You have been usin' it! I knew i smelt something familiar, ya' cheeky bastard,"

"I like it okay! Plus it makes me smell like you…"

"Yeah?" He's smirking again and thank god he's your boyfriend because instead of slapping him you press your lips to his in a short kiss.

"Yes. Problem?" You huff, Tangerine grins.

"Not at all, love," He slides back to you side, squeezing your hip and rests his hand there.

"Alright, next. After we shop, we could stop somewhere near to get lunch," You point back at your loss. "I'm thinking maybe the cafe that opened next door?"

"Oh yeah! Been eyein' their coffee for days now," You grin, turning back to your phone and scrolling.

"Oh and here!" You pointed. "When we get home, we'll do a cleaning of our office, then spend the rest catching up on our shows,"

"What movie you thinkin' then?" He sleeks back a fallen fringe. You note he's wearing less gel than usual.

"We can continue our Marvel marathon,"

"Sure, what's the next film after Avengers again?"

"Age of Ultron, i think," You tried to recall the list, when he suddenly groaned from behind you, making you turn and crunch your brows.

"Oh bollocks, its with the fuckers who's similar to me ain't it?" He huffs. "Lemon bugged me all the time about 'em,"

"Who? Pietro?"

"Yeah, him!"

You laugh, careening to the side until you're holding your stomach. Tangerine side eyes you, sharp and annoyed, until you finally stop laughing but still giggles in huffs. He turns his head, looking away from you and you know he's a bit more pissed than usual. So you smile slowly, pulling your boyfriend just enough to press a warm kiss on his cheek and hold his chin to tilt him to meet your eyes.

"Don't worry babe, y'know i only fall for one Tangerine," He sighs, a smile tugging on his lips, then he presses a kiss on your knuckles.

"Plus, you can go undercover as Aaron Taylor-Johnson if you ever want to," That makes him pout again, pushing your hand away from him and sending you into another fit of laughter.

—

And so you and Tangerine spent the day outside.

You both went shopping for the things you've run out of, and picked out the ingredients for future recipes. Tangerine spent the better half of the hour picking through champagne and wine, ensuring to get the best one thay had before he decided; "Let's just go to a wine shop, this place got nothin'." Which made you laugh while he pulled you away from the mediocre drinks.

Finally exiting the shop, you and Tangerine went to the Cafe that you mentioned. Despite them being opened quite recently, the establishment is run by an old married couple. The wife takes care of the orders and cashier while her husband is in the back. While Tangerine placed his, the woman looked at you and said "And what will your friend be having?"

Which made Tangerine's eye tick and you had a millisecond to hold him back before- "My partner will order for themselves."

You only huff in amusement as the old lady blinked, before she nodded sheepishly and you placed your order quickly.

"Quit hissing at old people, dear, she didn't mean it," You had said when you and Tangerine were in the middle of your meal.

"Yeah well if we can learn about their damn repetitive history then they can learn to respect our choices," His eyes are narrowed and burning holes the poor womens back, you had to pry him away when you're done.

Tangerine took a detour to actually purchase good, genuine wine and champagne, and while he was with the worker who was presenting him the sparkling beverages you busy yourself looking around, afraid to touch those on display because despite your combined income from yours and Tangerines work, you're still cautious about these bougie things.

Finally, when you two arrived home, you and Tangerine moved in tandem as you retire the groceries into their places, Tangerine taking care of the expensive drinks while you changed your clothes in the other room. Tangerine joined you shortly after, wrapping his arms from behind you while he buries his face in the side of your neck, taking lungfulls before he suddenly attacked the sensitive skin with a bite. You shrieked, of course, before you swatted him away and pushed his clothes into his hands, making Tangerine chuckle. As you pass the bedroom mirror, there's a prominent red mark from where he bit. It sent a shiver as you pressed it, before you blinked and exited the room.

The 'office' is the safe name for ou and Tangerines house weapons bank. It's located next to your bedroom with a hidden keypad beside the door, hidden behind a wall, and changed every 2 weeks. Cleaning the room just means cleaning the weapons and doing check-ups, making sure the guns are properly cared for and the knives are sharpened. So you and your boyfriend spent an hour and a half making sure all your weapons and ammunition are in place, stocked, and cleaned. When you both finally finished, Tangerine closed the door behind him while you attacked his neck with kisses that made him groan, before you placed your own bite just above the deep scar on his left.

Now, the clock reads 9 PM, leftovers from dinners are stored into the fridge, dishes cleaned, and living room vacuumed. You’re currently in Tangerine's arm as he grumbles throughout Avengers: Age of Ultron. Every minute the ‘Pietro guy’ as he calls him, appears on screen, he would squint and send death glares to the unassuming character until you had to swat at his arm, making him huff before pulling you closer. One of his arms rests behind his head while the other hugs your middle, you sigh in content when he finally quiets down from his complaints and lets you continue the movie in peace. However, it only lasts another 20 minutes before he scoffs again, hearing Pietro’s accent, which made you pout, peering up at him.

“What?” His eyes twitched.

“You have an accent too, dumbass,” You grin, making his eyes widen.

“Are you usin’ my accent against me? Last I remembered you said I sounded ‘hot’,” He exaggerates, making you giggle. “And ‘sexy’, where did that go, hm, love?”

“Sure mr. Oh-So-Sophisticated,”

“I’ll show you sophisticated-” He says before he attacks your sides with his nimble fingers, burying his face into the crook of your neck. Both his fingers and mustache tickles you, making you squeal. You try to push at his hands and he knows you’re strong enough to flip him over if you want to, but instead you play the role of helpless and laugh while Tangerine keeps up his act. It wasn't until he finally stopped tickling you and your giggles settled down did he hug you again, pull you close and press a kiss to your nose.

He stares, a soft smile tugging on his lips, your hand reaching to cup his jaw. He turns slightly into your touch, inhales slowly, before his striking blues meets yours.

“I enjoyed today,” He smiles.

Your eyes widened slightly. “Really?”

“Yeah, this whole- domestic bullshit,” He sighs. “I liked it, we should do this again,”

The moon might be out but your smile brings the sun right back into the apartment, making Tangerine chuckle. “Thank you,” You grin, and kiss his lips when he brings you closer.

“Of course, love,” He breathes into the kiss.

My Requests are Open!

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spidergenius · 9 months

Text

Quiet After the Crash

Tangerine x GN!Reader

Word Count: 2.4K

SFW; Mentions of blood, violence, grief, death, language, idiots in love.

When you come to in the middle of some wreckage after the train crash, you immediately start looking for The Twins.

A/N: Takes place at the end of the movie. Self indulgent fic because I require something with a happy ending. Marched right out of that theater and said FINE, I'll do it myself.

Canon? Not in my goddamn house.

A muffled gunshot (or was it a small explosion?) cut through your sluggish senses, dragging you back into the world of the living. As your body changed gears, coping with the strenuous weight of consciousness, the aches and pains flooded back, making you groan. Sharp, biting smoke clung to the inside of your lungs as you attempted to take a deep breath. The air sputtered back out in coughs from your dry, raw throat.

You had to move, you had to get up. Every instinct you had was begging you to move. Something urgent pulled at your thoughts. What was it? What had you been thinking just before you were knocked unconscious?

Before…

Fingers scrabbling at what felt like sharp metal debris and wires, helped you pull yourself into a sitting position. Your head was pounding and you winced, trying to block out the light. Thick, wet liquid (blood, your blood) fell down in thin trails along one side of your cheek, but your thoughts weren’t centered on yourself. They were trying to recall the events that led up to this. The fight with goons, screeching metal, yelling, a feeling of weightlessness as the entire train flipped and the floor went out from under you.

Where the hell was Tangerine and Lemon?

That single thought drove you to crack your eyes open and lurch forward in a mad dash to get on your feet. The world around you momentarily spun and you fought back a wave of sickness roiling in your stomach as you leaned over with your hands on your knees. Surrounding you was the shredded metal of the train, littered among the destroyed homes of an otherwise peaceful and quaint Japanese neighborhood. Disconnected train cars, laying in various positions, were tossed all over the area.

It looked like a toddler had gotten mad with their train set and thrown it across the room. It must have been by some miracle that you survived. You silently hoped that the same miracle was extended to The Twins.

A friendly voice called out to you as you pushed through the anxiety and shuffled through the wreckage, over turning sheets of metal and ruined chairs. Sluggish to look up, you saw Ladybug making his way over carefully. Looks like he and two others had survived the crash. He had a polite smile as he asked you something.

You only frowned at him. “What?”

“I asked if you’re alright?” He extended a hand out, which you promptly ignored in favor of continuing to pick through the debris. Taking a second to watch as you struggled to walk through the scraps of metal, he followed you patiently. “What are you looking for?”

“Who.” You corrected quietly, “I’m looking for…” Your stomach did a flip, tightening in knots at the sudden idea that at any time you could turn over a chair and find either Tangerine or Lemon’s body. Were you prepared for that? Were you capable of pulling Tangerine or Lemon out of the wreckage without having a breakdown? You banished the thought; you would cross that bridge when you came to it.

Ladybug snapped his fingers as if he was coming to a great moment of clarity. “That’s right, you teamed up with The Twins, but…you weren’t around when…” He drifted off and you picked up the foreboding tone that lingered in his voice.

You whipped your head toward him, swaying slightly from the sudden movement as you looked at him with an intensity. “Have you seen them? Do you know where they were when the train crashed?”

For a moment he simply watched you, chewing on the inside of his lip. “Well, I uh…”

“What? You what?”

“The last time I saw them…Lemon—he fell out of the train tackling a guy…Tangerine went jumping out after him.”

The noise that escaped you must have sounded awful because Ladybug winced, drawing his shoulders up as if he was in pain. Doubling over, you felt as if the world had upturned again; ringing filled your ears and you were only vaguely aware of Ladybug placing a hand on your back in an attempt at reassuring you.

Images of Tangerine filled your mind, what was the last thing you had said to him? For the life of you, you couldn’t remember. It certainly wasn’t something you thought would be your last words to the man you had intense feelings for. In all probability it was probably something cheeky or rude.

You cursed between the sobs that wracked your body. Your handler, she was a smart one, had warned you of this very thing countless times. ‘Don’t get too close, he could wind up dead tomorrow. You can’t let your feelings affect your profession, it’s bad enough that you aren’t trying to compete for jobs they’re on. Missed opportunities, if you ask me.’

Well, it was far too late for that, even by the time she had said it. Tangerine had stolen your heart without as many as ten sentences, swept you off your feet with only a few looks from those blue eyes. Sure, you weren’t about to step on their toes when it came to jobs, but that didn’t mean that you wouldn’t go out of your way to see them.

They had (or maybe it was Tangerine dragging his brother along) done just the same; winding up in places where you would frequent or around similar jobs as yours. Tangerine always acted very pleasantly surprised to see you, the cocky smirk that lifted his mustache up into a crooked line was ever present as he struck up a conversation or invited you to dinner with them.

It was like flirting, in a professional way. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t love it.

And now, you were faced with the reality of being without him.

Ladybug fretted around you as the sound of your grief rattled in and out of your lungs. “Deep breaths, I’m sorry. It’ll be ok—"

But he was interrupted by a young woman’s shouting.

You stood up to see The Prince standing and pointing a gun toward you, she was pretty badly scratched up, bleeding all over. You weren’t paying attention to what she was saying in the slightest, let her yell until she lost her voice, let her shoot you—you hardly cared anymore. A cold fury incased you; she lived through the wreck, she had made it out, but not your Tangerine, not Lemon.

Snarling, you seethed quietly to no one in particular, “Would somebody, please, kill this fuckin’ bitch.” You had half a mind to pick up a piece of metal and do the deed yourself.

But it seemed like the universe was listening this day as a truck slammed into her tiny form, sending her body flying out of sight.

A truck with tangerines on it.

You thought maybe it was a sign from God, but midway through the half-formed thought, out stumbled Lemon. He was laughing like a maniac and shouting something incoherently about a Diesel. He glanced back inside the truck, stepped up the foot rung to reach in and...

Pulled out a battered, worried looking Tangerine.

He was bleeding from the side of his mouth and head, and clung to Lemon, trying to regain his footing as he exited the truck. His dark blue shirt was ripped all over and stained with dirt and blood, but he still somehow managed to look dashing as hell. Both twins looked like they were soaking wet for some reason. Lemon was trying to say something to his brother, but Tangerine immediately stumbled over to the piles of debris and looked around, picking up chairs and tossing them out of his way.

He looked along a line of toppled cars and back to Lemon, who had caught sight of you standing with a star-struck look. Lemon only started to raise a hand to point toward you when Tangerine whirled around, curls bouncing on his head, to meet your eyes.

It certainly was a funny thing, as in that moment every pain in your body ceased to exist; the ringing in your ears was replaced with absolute, blissful silence. Maybe you had been standing there for one minute or several minutes, but you suddenly found your legs were moving with a mind of their own and you were flying toward Tangerine. He ran, half stumbling, toward you as well, meeting you halfway in the middle of the rubble.

Stopping, just beyond an arm’s length away, you both came to a silent halt. Looking at one another as if trying to separate reality from fiction. Tangerine was at a loss for words, on the ride here he had been utterly silent, expecting to find your broken body among the debris. He was so sure that his luck wouldn’t hold out and that you were dead, he didn’t think about what he might say if you were alive.

And Jesus Christ, did he have so many things to say.

But as he stood looking down at you, his words failed him. Completely dumb-struck by your presence. You had been through a fucking train wreck and you had come out the other end looking angelic.

You broke the silence first, pushing him on the chest with two hands. He hardly moved, at most being pushed back a half-step, he didn’t even blink; too shocked to react.

Pointing back at Ladybug with one hand, you shout, your voice straining from holding back emotion and it rises in pitch, “He told me that you threw yourself out of the train after Lemon!”

You raise your hands up in a ‘what the fuck’ kind of motion, struggling to express the words you want to say. Moments ago, you had been thinking of only getting him back, now you wanted to tell him how stupid he had been.

You let the floodgates open, too exhausted to stop yourself; and then you’re shouting, rambling, as tears fill your eyes. “You jumped out of a bullet train—are you serious—how could you be so reckless?! Did it ever cross your gorgeous mind that, oh I don’t know, diving out after your brother wouldn’t actually solve anything?!”

You huffed, angrily swiping a hand across your face to wipe at the stubborn tears that escaped down your cheeks.

“What was I gonna do if you had fucking died? I’d be stuck here, devastated, heart-broken—going up and down the countryside for days—ugly crying the entire time, searching for your bodies! And look at me? Do you think it would have been easy to load you, Mr. Muscles, into my car with Lemon? I’d have to rent a truck—my car can barely fit you both when you’re alive.”

Lemon was trying to conceal his laughter as you stepped closer and pressed an accusing finger into Tangerine’s chest. You could feel his heart pounding under your touch. He just continued to look at you as if you were a figment of his imagination, there was a sort of awe in his eyes that only spurred you on.

“Maybe when I retire I’ll become a nun, because it was only by the will of God that you two made it out safely—and don’t let that go to your head! If I have to watch you do more reckless things because you think you’re invincible, I’m going to need heart medication—"

You’re interrupted by Tangerine rushing forward, taking your head in his hands, and kissing you roughly.

There wasn’t even time to be surprised as sheer relief floods in and you melt into him. Maybe it was the sensation of how warm and real he felt against you or how desperate you’ve been for this, but the tears didn’t stop. They mix into the taste of salt and iron on Tangerine’s lips and to you it’s heaven.

His moustache is rough and scratchy as he pushes his lips to yours, molding against them, pulling needily and threading his fingers through your hair. He pants ‘I’m sorry’, ‘I love you’, and ‘thank God you’re ok’ with hot breaths in between feverish kisses. Your hands find their way up his chest to grip at his wet shirt and pull him closer, returning his words breathlessly while still trying to find a way to keep kissing him.

Lemon walks up as sirens flare in the background, getting louder as they close in. He’s chuckling to himself; through the haze of kissing Tangerine, you thought you might have heard him mumble ‘about bloody time’ before addressing you both.

“Alright love birds, let’s pack it in. We’re gonna have company soon.”

Tangerine’s lips only pulled away from yours enough to hiss out an irritated reply. “Not now, mate.”

Lemon’s responding laugh is good-natured. “Look I know you’ve been wanting this for a while, yeah? But I don’t think it’s really the time.”

Tangerine growls into your mouth, fully intent on letting that be his answer, but you pull away this time; turning his growl into a small whine as he tries to chase your lips. “I have words for you, Lemon.”

The man’s eyes widen and he looks at you incredulously while motioning to the wreckage with a hand. “You what? I didn’t jump—I fell off the fuckin’ train. And all’s well that ends well.”

“Putting yourself in that position to begin with was completely irresponsible."

“Yeah, hindsight is 20/20. Tell me, what was I supposed to do?”

Tangerine’s mustache tickled your skin as he leaned his forehead against your temple. Impatient hands tried to coax your face back to his as he pressed soft, lingering kisses onto your cheek, wiping away any tear tracks and inching his way toward the corner of your mouth. The gentle rumble of his voice in your ear was enough to make your knees weak. “Please, love. You can shout at each other all you want later. For right now… let’s just…”

Coarse fingers pulled your chin toward him, the grumbling reply you had started to aim at Lemon died in your throat as Tangerine’s lips brushed against yours. He hummed contently as you returned the kiss and forgot about the scolding you were going to give his brother.

There was an overly dramatic sigh from Lemon as he dropped his arms to his sides and mumbled something about going and finding a car, but neither you nor Tangerine heard him.

#it's 12am #im sobbing

2K notes · View notes

spidergenius · 9 months

Text

You're So Cute When You're Jealous

Tangerine x GN! Reader x Platonic! Ladybug

Word Count: 2.6K

(I almost forgot how fun and rewarding it is to write short little one-shots lol)

Mild NSFW; Non-explicit sexual content, jealousy, possessiveness, language

Ladybug watches your back for an easy mission that isn't supposed to take more than 20 mins. When Tangerine shows up the plan goes out the window.

A/N: I interrupt your assassins hunting assassins/murder mystery series to give you this! Hope you enjoy, and there's more one-shots coming! <3 Also, I'm trying to get my NSFW writing skills back into shape for future fics… 👀💅 Let me know how I did!

----------

“Ladybug…”

“Hm?”

“Are you listening to me?”

“Mm, yeah.”

“What was the last thing I said?”

“Uhhh…”

“That’s what I thought.”

There was a good-natured laugh, easy and light over your comms piece. “You worry too much. This job is gonna be a piece of cake.”

It was, but you weren’t going to admit it. The task was straightforward—take the provided SSD card, which you had taped to the inside strap of your watch, and stick it into some yuppy senator’s laptop; wait until the files are uploaded, then take the card and get out. It was all being done at night too, so the office building was empty. Still, best not to get sloppy. Maintaining a reputation is important.

You hoped the sigh you made was loud enough for the mic to pick up.

It was.

“Oh comon’ don’t be like that.”

“Like what? Concerned over the job we’re currently on?”

“It’s ‘cause you miss your boyfriend, isn’t it?”

With a scoff, you attempted to make a rebuttal, but the best you came up with was, “He’s not my boyfriend.”

Ladybug was smiling, you could hear it in his voice. “Oh! Well, excuse me.”

“Just focus.”

“I am—you focus!”

“I’m already focused!”

As the elevator dinged open you peeked your head out and looked up and down the hallways. All clear.

Ladybug practically giggled, something crinkled on his end. “Why are you acting like this is Mission Impossible?” He was currently watching you on thermal imaging from the roof of the next building over.

You held back a loud scoff. “I’m being careful.” There was a crunch followed by loud chewing. “For Christ’s sake, Ladybug—are you eating?”

“We didn’t get dinner beforehand…so, yes.”

Hoping he could see it through the camera, you exasperatedly threw your hands up into the air as you made your way to the office. Rounding a few hallway corners, it came into view.

The door was a lacquered wood with the identifying number and senator’s name displayed in fancy, hand lettered script on the frosted glass window. You attempted to go in, but it was secured with a keypad and deadbolts.

“What’s the combination for the door, Ladybug.”

“…Combination?”

Your stomach sank. “Yes…for the office door. There’s a keypad.”

“Uh—standby.”

Pinching the bridge of your nose between your fingers you were running through ways of getting inside when Ladybug’s voice returned, it held more urgency than before. “Hey, yeah, listen. There’s bad news and there’s other not-so-bad news, but it’s still not very good.”

“Just tell me!”

“There’s someone coming out of the elevator—that’s the not-so-bad news.”

“You think they’re going for the senator’s office?”

“Looks like they’re making a beeline straight for it. Better move!”

You hiss, cursing between your teeth. The nearest place to hide is at the other end of the hallway and you sprint to it, trying not to make too much noise. Once behind the corner you peek out, feeling like a child trying not to get caught. “Great, what’s the bad-bad news?”

“I’ve got no idea what the combination is.” There was another crunch as he continued to eat.

You grumble under your breath. “God fucking damn it…”

“I’m looking through everything, they never gave us any combination—didn’t even mention it. I’m gonna chalk that up to an oversight on their part.” There were a few beats of silence save for the sound of Ladybug’s crunching. “Ok, here comes company, they’re coming down the hallway now.”

“What do they look like?”

“It’s a guy. Judging by his build, he’s probably in his early thirties. Struts as he walks—”

“Oh, motherfucker…”

“You sound like you’ve got a guess as to who it is.”

“Yeah, I’ve got a pretty good guess…”

Sure enough, the muscular outline of Tangerine—clad in his usual blue Italian suit, walked into view and up to the office door. The familiar gate of his walk and the slope of his shoulders sped up your heart rate.

“Who is it?”

Forgoing a reply, you positively simmered as Tangerine effortlessly entered the keycode and waltzed inside.

If you know Tangerine, which you do, he’ll shut the door behind himself—which only gives you a split second…

Ladybug’s voice was slightly obscured by the food in his mouth. “What are you doing?”

Without a second thought, you had dashed toward the door as it slowly closed. Pivoting with your shoulder, you bash into it—sending it flying open. Tangerine’s eyes are wide with surprise as you barrel into the office. There’s a flash of recognition, quickly replaced by confusion as his brows furrow and he takes a few steps back.

You’re breathless. You tell yourself it’s from sprinting and not the way he looks up close in that suit. “What are you doing here?”

He stammered a moment before he remembered how to speak. “Me? I should ask you the same thing, love.”

Ladybug chortled over comms. “Holy shit, what are the chances. Well, there goes our plan, I’ll start packing up.”

Turning your head to the side you hissed as quietly as you could. “Cut it out, the plan’s still on.”

There was a crunch. “Uh-huh, suree.”

“Just eat your dinner!”

You faced Tangerine again, who was watching closely. Somehow, his brows had pinched together even more.

He was opening his mouth to say something, but you beat him to it. “I was awarded the contract bid—this job is taken.”

The corner of his mustache raised as he took a step closer. “Oh, that was you who won? I thought I’d just nick it, honestly. Didn’t seem like a big deal.”

“What a charmer, and you’re in love with this guy?”

Ignoring Ladybug’s commentary, you stared down Tangerine, who was obviously fucking with you to get a reaction. Something he loved to do.

Well, maybe two could play at that game. “It’s a big deal to us…”

His eyes instantly narrowed. “Who’s us?”

It was just too easy.

“My partner for this job.”

“Please don’t bring me into this! He already wants to kill me!”

Tangerine stalked closer, eyes flickering over your ear. “Don’t fucking tell me…”

“Yes, don’t tell him.”

You simply nodded.

His jaw moved from side to side. “Are you fucking kidding me, love? You chose to go on a job with him?” He shook his head like he couldn’t believe it. “You chose to do it with him and not me?”

A tired sigh came through comms.

Between Ladybug’s annoyance and Tangerine’s reaction you couldn’t help the grin that spread across your face. Something about Tangerine’s jealous side really softened you up. Maybe it’s the way he seamlessly goes from angry to pouting every few seconds.

“I chose Ladybug for obvious reasons…”

He marched a few steps closer. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You know.”

“No, love. I really don’t.”

“Would you please mute yourself for this, I might vomit.”

Tangerine’s eyes flashed to your ear and back to stare into your eyes. “What’s that prick sayin’?”

A quiet snort broke its way out of you. Covering your mouth with a hand at the sound of Ladybug scoffing and grumbling, you tried your best not to laugh. There was a click as he disconnected himself from the comms.

Tangerine’s eyes were practically bulging out of his head as you took a deep breath and looked back up to him. “Ok, we’re alone now.”

His mustache twitched. “What did you mean by obvious reasons?”

This was probably the easiest job you’ve had in a while, in and out, wasn’t supposed to take more than 20 minutes. And now Tangerine was here and everything got all muddled. How were you supposed to do your job correctly as he stands this close, with his lips looking like that.

His tone dropped low, husky sounding. “Are you gonna answer or just stare at my mouth all day?”

Oops, you’d been caught.

Raising your eyes slowly you grinned. “This is exactly what I mean.”

Tangerine’s eyebrows raised a fraction and his frown lessened, obviously pleased. “Oh.” He paused for a beat, eyes glancing at your lips in return. “So, I have to suffer because you get a little distracted?”

“Suffer? Why would you be suffering?”

He closes the short distance between you and him, his chest brushing against yours. “You know how much I love working with you, darling.” His eye twitched slightly. “And you also know how much I hate seeing you work with others, especially that fucking—”

“—Ladybug isn’t distracting. He lets me get the job done.”

That is when everything went smoothly and his bad luck wasn’t complicating things.

Tangerine’s head leans in a little, his eyes softening—warm breath fanning out against your lips. “I can let you get the job done, too.”

“As evidenced here, I don’t think you can, Tangerine.”

The silky caress of his name on your lips makes his eyelids flutter as his brain short circuits. One of his coarse hands, thick gold rings around his fingers, raises to trace along your jaw with a feather-light touch. The understanding that he can use those same hands to go from killing, to brushing your face in such a sensitive way has you swooning.

He’s so close to kissing you now, you can feel the ghosting touch of his lips against yours as he speaks. “Maybe we would be more focused if we took care of our little distractions before the job.”

Well, that was incredibly tempting, but a sneaking suspicion told you it wouldn’t make a difference. There was a fire between you two that couldn’t easily be put out.

Sighing, with the nagging feeling that you were still on the job creeping into your mind, you were about to poke holes in his theory. “I doubt it would—”

Tangerine’s lips molded to yours, smothering everything else that followed. One hand cupped your face while the other pulled you closer by the small of your back. You weren’t getting the rest of that sentence out no matter how hard you tried, so instead of fighting, you melted into it with a sigh.

There was a breathy chuckle as he tilted his head to deepen the kiss; mustache scratching your upper lip. Tangerine’s cologne invaded your nose, flooding each of your senses until it was all just him. You swallowed it up, wishing you could wrap yourself in it forever.

He seemed to be equally affected; his strong hand skating along your back, gripping and tugging as it explored the curves of your body. Desperate to touch all of you. The other held your face to his, pressing into your soft skin with a calloused, but warm palm.

Your arms had wrapped themselves around his neck without you even realizing it, and they brought you up on your toes closer to him. Messing up his slick-backed curls, you ran fingers through them. Tugging, and scratching at the roots rewarded you with a few soft moans.

Tangerine’s mouth pulled back into a slow spreading smile under the press of your own. God, he loved this—thought about it at night before he fell asleep, dreamt of it. Dreamt of other things too, things that had him waking up harder than steel with your name gasping from his lips. Just the reminder of those mornings had him swiping his tongue along the bottom of your lip with a groan.

While tempting, the SSD card poked into the skin under your watch as a reminder. You pulled back slightly, panting from the waves of heat between you two.

Pressing light kisses to his chasing lips, you mumbled. “I need—to do—my job—Tangerine…”

At the sound of his name again, he made a low moan. His hand left your face to wrap around the base of your head, pulling you back to him. He spoke between feverish kisses as his lips attacked yours, tongue occasionally swiping at your lower lip, begging for permission. “Alright, sweetheart. Let me—show you how well—we could work together.”

Never once breaking the kiss, his hands snake up to your wrist and grab the SSD card from under your watch strap.

Murmuring against your lips, he grins. “You should find a new place to hide things, you always stash them there.”

You scoff, going to pull away with a snarky retort but he bites and sucks on your lip, holding you in place. It pulls a light gasp out of you and he hums triumphantly, taking the chance to slip his tongue into your mouth, fed up with waiting for permission. It slides against yours and you return the movement twisting your tongues into a dance.

He broke the kiss and bent down lightning fast to place a strong arm under your thighs, picking you up as if you weighed nothing. Returning with a crash of his lips on yours, he walked you both over toward the desk. Your hands flew up to hold onto his face and neck, leaning into him for support. He didn’t seem to notice one bit as he kissed you like you were the only thing that mattered in the world.

The smooth motion was enough to leave you breathless already, but when Tangerine plopped you down to sit on the desk and pressed himself between your legs, you forgot what the concept of breathing even was.

He grumbled, the sound vibrating in his chest. “Mm, see? We’re getting the job done.”

You turned your head to see him roughly shoving the SSD into the laptop, the force he used scooted it further away, but that was all you saw as he turned your face back to look at him, thumb and forefinger holding your chin. His blue eyes looked at you with hunger.

Moving down he began to bite and suck at your neck as his fingers tilted your head up, exposing the entirety of your throat to him.

Finally free to speak, you couldn’t help yourself. Panting, your voice was breathy and halting, distracted by the sensation of his teeth on your skin. “You’re getting my job done. What happened to nicking it?”

There was an amused hum. His hands moved to your thighs, running up and down the length of them, gripping the muscle. They traced around to slide underneath your ass and he roughly scooted you closer to him, connecting his hips to yours. The feeling of his rock-hard length pressing into you stole the last of your breath away.

He pulled back from leaving bruising hickeys and bite marks on your neck to look into your eyes. “To be perfectly honest with you, love—I couldn’t give a rat’s arse about the fucking money right now. Have it.” A thumb moved up to caress your cheek. “But, promise—on the next job, you’ll work with me.”

You about rolled your eyes into the back of your skull. “Tangerine—”

A low growl ripped through him as his hips snapped forward against you and he devoured your lips. It pulled a moan out of you before you could even form a thought.

His breath was hot against your skin. “Fucking promise me.” His fingers traveled down and started working on your belt.

“Alright, I—I promise.”

Tangerine shoved his tongue into your mouth with a groan. As his hands expertly slid your pants down and thick fingers traveled past the elastic of your underwear, your mind drifted off into a blissful haze.

Working with Tangerine might actually be a fantastic idea.

🍊 Taglist: @felhomaly @whatiswrongwithpeople @marquisdefrenchfry @everythingisspokenfortbh @titaniusanglesmith @sjprongs @piechans @cherrygayness @queenofstarsanddarkness @idkwhattowritelol

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spidergenius · 9 months

Note

Hi!!!!!!! Loooooove your writing!!!! May I ask Tangerine x reader (fem if you want!), hot "Thank god you are safe!" kind of sex?

Thaaaaaank you for your support and for sending this over!! 💕 I am so so so happy to read comments on my posts and I really appreciate receiving these messages. Please accept this work as a token of my gratitude -

Request: Gunpoint - Tangerine x gn!reader

warnings: 18+ (minors dni), smut, & cursing

“I’m okay. I promise.”

“He held a gun to your head, Y/N.”

He has a serious look on his face but his dick is sliding deliciously in and out of you. He’s thrusting slowly. Analyzing, not admiring, your body to ensure there aren’t any hidden cuts or marks he may have missed from earlier. You’re clenching down on his cock to try and savor the feeling of him filling you up. Gripping him to hold onto the feeling of being full to avoid the emptiness from him slipping out.

You’re grateful Tangerine is so doting. It’s an entirely different side to him that not many people see. He’s generally caring and listens to you, but his worry is not an emotion you see often. In reactive situations, when the cause for the stress is over, he gets clingy and has to state verbal reminders that you’re okay, but they're mostly for himself. It's been a while since you've seen this side of him, but today put him in a position he hasn’t been in before and you could tell it shattered him.

Earlier, you opened the front door of your apartment with a smile, thinking it was just Tangerine meeting you for your agreed date. However, you were staring down the barrel of a gun with a sweaty, blonde man’s hesitating finger dancing on the trigger.

Moments later, Tangerine’s pounding footsteps were heard down the building's corridor. His tight facial expression faltered once he got a look at the scene now in front of him. Blondie had swooped in behind you and put you in a chokehold; the pressure of the gun prodding at your head.

The look on his face paired with the gun made your stomach twist. He paled whilst trying to fight off any trace of worry to not give Blondie the reaction he wanted. But you can pick up on any of his micro-expressions, except he wasn’t successful at fully hiding some of the changes to his demeanor. Contorted eyebrows here, a quivering lip there, hands stuttering with the flexing then balling of his fists, and a command to let you go with a slight quiver to his stern tone. And when he locked eyes with you, you could read his silent plea for you to stay calm. He was helplessly trying to figure out a safe way to free you from being Blondie’s hostage without having said man react and shoot you. You never saw that clear emotion wash over him before. It didn’t make you feel good at all. You felt horrible to be in a position where your smart, always confident Tangerine was unsure of himself and what to do next. To feel this way being the one with a loaded weapon pressed against your temple says a lot.

But you’d do anything to never have him doubt himself or for you to be labeled as a damsel in distress. So, you took initiative to defend yourself against Blondie by throwing your head back into his nose as you’ve seen in the movies. Honestly, what they don't tell you, is that the impact causes whatever part of your own head to throb. But arguably that was the preferred pain over the harsh smack of the gun to your face. Your body hitting the ground with a quickly forming welt set Tangerine off, and now Lemon is currently out God only knows where to dispose of Blondie’s corpse.

Tangerine embraced you over the cooling body, followed by a quick text to Lemon. He iced your cheek/eye in the kitchen. Leading to more kisses that finally wound you up on your bed for him to 'assess' how bad your injuries are. Now you're here.

“Tan, I’m not gonna break. Fuck me, baby.”

Wordlessly, he is moving back to sit down near the end of the bed and pulls your body with him. You’re now straddling his lap; being wrapped in his arms with his dick never slipping out of you. His hands soothingly stroke up and down your sides as he continues to thrust his cock rhythmically. Fingers ghost over the bruise on your face. He’s afraid to apply any pressure to it. This close you can see how genuinely concerned he was and still is. There are traces of tears around his baby-blue eyes. You're not sure if they’re from now or earlier in the hall, and he would deny having ever welled up if you tried asking. But you carefully stroke under his eye with your thumb to wipe them away and now he’s staring at you.

“I was so scared I was going to lose you,” he admits.

You kiss his fingers as they sweep over your lips then replace the sensation with a soft kiss to his own. A silent message that that didn’t happen. You’re alive.

“I’m right here,” you whisper promises against his lips, “I’m not going anywhere. You’re stuck with me.”

His mouth quirks into a smile and nips at your lip,

“Oh, yea. You’re an absolute bore to be stuck with,” he teases.

Your giggle turns into a hearty moan as he gives you an unexpected firm fuck up into you. Oh. His pace has impressively sped up and his hands keep alternating where he's holding you. Like he wants to constantly touch you to physically confirm you’re here with him.

“You’re safe,” he whispers; moans escaping past his concerned tone.

“I’m safe.”

“You’re mine.”

“Yes, baby. I’m all yours.”

“Mine,” he nods then sucks a love bite into your collarbone. Then moves to place one onto your skin just above your left nipple. Taking a moment to pay attention to the sensitive bud by licking and suckling on it. You’re writhing against him; pushing his hair back from his face to watch him pay attention to your chest.

Your nails bite at his shoulders with each drive up into you. The bed creeks and shakes with his hips pistoning into you from below, creating the sickest, dirtiest slapping sounds in the room. What he's doing with his lower half is a stark contrast to the gentle touches he places on your face. The overwhelming sensation of your creeping orgasm and being cradled so close to Tangerine is your confirmation that you’re here and today really drove in the fact that you know Tangerine will always strive to keep you out of harm's way.

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spidergenius · 9 months

Text

A Friendly Auction

Tangerine x !GN Reader x !Platonic Ladybug

Word Count: 4.5K

SFW; Language, Jealousy, Possessiveness (all from our best fruit boy)

After being out of commission for a little while, you're getting back into the industry by attending a job auction. You see some familiar faces.

A/N: *speaks into the mic* Hi, did anyone order a *checks notes* jealous Tangerine, and a bestie named Ladybug?

There were a few requests for these, I combined some themes but will definitely be doing more. I have unlocked an addiction to jealous Tangerine and writing a platonic Ladybug is really fun too.

Tall industrial buildings, most of them vacant or under construction, lined the sides of the street as your car flies down the empty road. Coasting through the rundown, abandoned side of the city, pot holes dotted the asphalt and you had to swerve to avoid them. Only sounds of the engine and wheels on pavement fill the small cabin. On the passenger seat beside you was your cellphone, a half empty pack of cigarettes, and an auction invite. Flashy gold lettering on thick paper caught the light of the afternoon sun through the window, shining in your peripheral vision.

Refusing to look at it, but picturing it clearly in your mind anyway, you muttered under your breath. “Fucking ridiculous.”

When you had received the invite along with instructions, you wanted to throw it away, act like you had never gotten it. A job auction? Are you joking? Your boss, a woman you highly respected and had worked with for years, was sending you to do errands for her.

“Just scope it out; see who’s bidding. Think of it as a way of getting back into the swing of things.”

Yeah. Not insulting in the least.

Slowing the car, you turned down a narrow, patchy road, squeezed in between two brick buildings. At the end of it was a guarded security gate blocking off a much wider section of an empty lot in front of a two-story warehouse.

You rolled down your window as your car crawled to a stop, leaning on your forearm to stick your head out. Three heavily armed guards were coming out of the little hut positioned at the side of the gate to meet you. There were more inside, two sat in front of monitors; they were armed to the teeth as well.

Cheerily, you greeted them with a polite smile. “Good afternoon!”

Their faces never lifted from a deep-set scowl.

The one closest marched up to your window and barked orders at you. “Please step out of the vehicle with your invite.”

Well at least he said please.

Over the next few minutes, you stood outside as they inspected your invite, patted you down, and searched your car for any weapons. They even had a dog sniff you and the car’s undercarriage. That was new; security had gone up since the last time you had come to one of these things.

Not that you could blame them. Maintaining peace in a neutral zone where all criminal families (and a bunch of no-good contract killers) could meet, had to be one nightmare of a job. Those that ran the show at least mitigated the risk by choosing who got an invite. Reputation came into play no doubt—generous donations helped too.

Satisfied that you weren’t trying to sneak anything in, the guard motioned for you to go ahead, keeping your invite. That’s too bad, you wanted a souvenir.

Only a few other cars were in the lot when you parked. Every single one of them nice, probably worth a small home; your car was no exception—fitting in is preferrable for this line of work. You parked away from the rest, maintaining the space like everyone else. Checking the time on your phone, you were pleased; even after the long security process, you were early by 25 minutes,. Being early was good, especially when some mob bosses considered tardiness a personal insult.

Grabbing the pack of cigarettes off your passenger seat, you got out and leaned up against the car door. No one would appreciate you smoking inside, and this would give you an opportunity to see whoever showed up next.

It wasn’t long before someone did, and they parked right next to you.

“What the fuck…” You murmured, lit cigarette hanging between parted lips. Then, the car door swung open and you were greeted with a goofy smile and a head of blond hair.

Ladybug flew around the side of his car, throwing his arms out wide. “Holy shit! Welcome back to the land of the living!”

A smile instantly lit up your face as your old friend walked up and embraced you heartily.

“You call auctions living?” You laughed, speaking into his shoulder as you returned the hug.

“Aw, come on. It has to be better than the hospital, right?” He pulled away, checking you over with a hand on your shoulder. “How long did they keep you?”

You huffed, flicking your cigarette ash onto the pavement. “Three fucking weeks, I was going stir crazy!” Giving a wave of your hand, leaving a fading trail of smoke behind, you add, “I started smoking so they would let me sit outside a few times a day.”

Ladybug’s laugh was infectious, and it was enough to lighten your mood; you were suddenly glad you came.

His hand left your shoulder as he leaned back against his own car to face you. “How are you feeling now?”

“Good!” You motioned to your right leg, lifting it a little. “Sometimes I’ll get the odd phantom pain, but other than that, brand new. Ready to start working again.” You motioned toward him with a wide smile. “What have you been up to?”

“I’ve just been looking around for grab and go jobs, I’m tired of shooting people—tired of getting shot at.” He pauses to ask with a raised brow.“Are you bidding?”

“No, not today. Boss lady wants me to ‘scope it out’. I guess she thinks this’ll get my foot back in the door.”

He grins, sensing the impatience in you. “That’s good!”

You only shake your head and groan.

This turns his grin into a wide smile. “Don’t try to rush back in so fast. Take some time to relax. Recovery is important.”

You pressed your lips together to keep yourself from disagreeing. The only thing on your mind after months of doing nothing was holding a gun again. Your hands itched for it; fingers impatient to pull a trigger. You wanted to go after targets, travel to new locations—not sit endlessly on your couch, smoking and waiting around for your next doctor’s appointment.

Giving you a look, one that suggested Ladybug knew exactly what you were thinking, he continued on. “Don’t be like that. I was worried! When I found out you were in the hospital I was shocked—didn’t think anything could take you out.”

More cars were parking now, some distance away. Their owners exited and headed straight for the entrance. A lot of the faces you didn’t recognize, only a few were vaguely familiar.

You scoffed lightheartedly. “A broken leg didn’t really ‘take me out’. It’s not like I was in a coma or anything.”

Those were small lies. It hadn’t been just a broken leg, and you had been in a coma, but only for a day or two. Which, in your opinion, shouldn’t really count. It was more like an extended nap.

Ladybug sounded curious. “Wasn’t it worse than that…?”

Taking a drag from your cigarette and blowing smoke to the side, you attempted to brush his prying off casually. “Says who?”

He shrugged with another one of his goofy smiles. “Heard it through the grapevine, I guess.” He watched as more people exited their cars and went inside.

You groaned through another drag of your cigarette. “Oh, God. People were talking about it?”

“Yeah, of course! A contractor as good as you gets put in the hospital? Disappearing for months? That’s news.” He waved a hand, standing and motioning for you to join him as he started toward the entrance. “You should have seen the other contractors scramble to pick up the jobs you had left over.”

You dropped your cigarette onto the pavement and snubbed it out with a foot, then joined him.

“Sounds worse than it was.” You mumbled.

He shrugs. “I think it was a wake-up call.”

“How so?”

“You’re someone who’s been in the business for years. When people looked at you, they saw how you managed to thrive for so long in this profession. It gave others hope that they could do the same. And then, boom, just like that—you’re gone.”

Frowning you looked at your friend. “That’s part of the job.”

“Sure, sure. That’s something we all say countless times, and we all act like we know or understand what it means…but when it happens, it still rattles nerves.”

You fell silent, contemplating this. On the other end, as the one ‘disappearing’, you didn’t think much of it. You were hurt and now you’re back. It was just the way of the job; you’d seen this happen to others many times.

As you and Ladybug made your way across the lot, two acutely familiar faces got out of a car a small distance away. Despite all the talk of being a professional, your stomach did a flip.

Trying to keep your voice down, even though they were too far away to hear anything, you pointed a look toward them. “I didn’t know The Twins were desperate enough to go to job auctions now.”

Ladybug looked in their direction, speaking carefreely as he openly stared. “There’s big money in this. Connections. A lot has changed since the last time you’ve been here.”

Lemon was exiting the passenger side closest to you and Ladybug, he smoothed out his jacket as he stood, eyes on the people entering the building ahead. Tangerine was coming out of the driver’s side, wearing his usual suit attire with slick-backed hair. He was frowning deep enough that you could make out the lines on his forehead. He looked to his brother but caught sight of Ladybug still staring at them, then his eyes snapped to yours.

His whole demeanor instantly changed—forehead lines disappeared and his eyes widened. Jesus, it even looked like he straightened his back. He must have said something to Lemon, or maybe his brother saw the change, because a second later Lemon turned to look too.

Ladybug laughed, observing your carefully neutral expression. “Uh-oh. Do I detect a little drama?”

You only turned away and grumbled something incoherently. The tall, glass doors to the warehouse were nearing. Inside you could see people milling about.

He bumped your arm playfully with an elbow and leaned in a little. “You know, rumor has it they were involved. Or at least, one of them was involved.”

You tried to hide a smile as you bumped him back. “Involved in what?”

“In what happened!” You could feel his eyes roll. “Don’t try to play dumb with me, you know I can see right through it.”

You hummed, reaching for the door and holding it open for him. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

As Ladybug passed by and into the warehouse, you saw Tangerine watching you closely as he and Lemon were walking over from their car. You caught Tangerine’s eyes for a few heartbeats, trying to suppress a smirk. It was a look with meaning behind it. Before Lemon could lean over to say something to his brother, you broke the eye contact and went inside.

Ladybug was waiting a few steps away; he had seen the interaction and was deadpanning. “You couldn’t be any more obvious if you tried.”

In contrast to what the outside of the warehouse looked like, the inside was like a luxury ballroom in a hotel. Rows and rows of comfortable chairs all faced a lacquered wooden stage with a mahogany podium. The wall behind it was filled with a long digital screen that had yet to display anything.

People stood in groups among the chairs and along the rows talking idly. You could plainly tell who was a boss, an underling, or a contractor. It was all given away by the amount of people they were surrounded with, their clothing, or how they carried themselves. As you entered the room, a few heads turned to take long looks.

Ladybug came to a stop at the end of a row and turned to you, leaning his head forward to try and keep his voice down. “I know you enjoy playing with your food, but when are you gonna eat?”

“Weird analogy, Ladybug. I’m not a cannibal.” You teased back.

“Stop dancing around the subject.”

“Well, this isn’t grade-school, we can’t just casually go out for burgers and a malt.” You glance around the room as it continues to fill up. The auction would be starting soon. “Maybe you haven’t noticed, but our profession involves killing people; that complicates things a bit—and you don’t know the whole story.”

Ladybug chuckled shaking his head. “This must be serious. In all our years as friends, you’ve never avoided talking about someone this much.” He put his hands on his hips, eyes narrowing playfully. “Just promise me, when you two get married, I get to be your maid of—”

You interrupted Ladybug, sucking a quick breath through your teeth and placing a hand on his chest. The Twins were walking up. Tangerine’s eyes looked at your hand on Ladybug’s chest and those deep forehead lines returned as his brow furrowed. You dropped your arm from your friend’s chest, noticing Tangerine’s eyes trailing the movement.

Ladybug beamed. “Well, helloo—”

Ignoring him completely, Tangerine gruffly interrupted; addressing you. “Good to see you back in the field.”

The corners of your lips twitched, fighting to keep an even face. “This isn’t really the field. More of a playground.”

His mustache twitched as he blinked and stammered out, “Well—uh, it’s good that you’re back. At least.”

Lemon made a face at his brother before asking you politely, “How are you feeling?”

Turning, you gave him a smile. “Great, thanks for asking.” Tangerine’s eyes could have burned a hole through you.

Tangerine opened his mouth to say something, but was interrupted by someone on a speaker asking for everyone to take a seat. The auction was officially starting.

Ladybug spoke up, pointedly sarcastic. “Nice talking to you.”

There was a gentle tug of encouragement on your arm as he moved toward a nearby row of empty chairs. Tearing your eyes away from Tangerine, you could have sworn that his eye twitched a little.

“Christ, what did you do to him?” Ladybug whispered into your ear.

You leaned in to whisper back as you sat down beside him. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, he somehow managed to look like a kicked puppy and a psychopath, at the same time.”

At the opposite end of your row, on the isle, The Twins were taking their seats. It had you facing them anytime you turned to talk to Ladybug, and Tangerine was facing you anytime he turned to talk to Lemon.

Had he purposefully done that? The idea almost makes you snort, but you catch yourself.

You blinked, focusing on your conversation with Ladybug. “I didn’t do anything.”

At the end of the row, Tangerine was turning and talking with Lemon. His eyes flickered to meet yours several times. You sat back in your seat to face the front, staring straight ahead and resisting the temptation to look over.

Ladybug hissed. “Uh-huh. Is that why he positioned himself to be able to watch you from the end of our row?”

Unable to control it this time, you snorted and brought a hand up to cover the laughs that followed. He also started to snicker and laugh. Thank God you were in the last row sitting behind everyone. Leave it to Ladybug to bring out the un-professionalism in you.

As the announcer began speaking, the screen lighting up with an introduction, you wiped at your eyes, trying to dry the tears and focus. It lasted about 10 seconds before Ladybug was hissing again.

“He keeps looking this way.”

You grumble back, keeping your face toward the front. “Ignore him.”

“He’s staring at me with those psycho eyes. Like he’s thinking about killing me.”

“He probably is. Just keep acting like you don’t care, maybe Lemon will slap him or something.”

“If you two could just fuck already, it would make everything a lot easier—”

“That’s not how I do things, Ladybug.”

“Yes, that’s right. You enjoy driving men to the brink of insanity, first.”

You whipped your head to look at him, about to come up with a retort, when your eyes met Tangerine’s. Yeah, he was definitely still looking this way.

He frowned at you a little, no doubt wondering what you were over there talking about in the middle of the auction. You frowned at him back, clearly sending the message of ‘mind your own business’. His head tilted to the side a little, eyes flickering to Ladybug and back to yours. And that’s when Lemon looked at Tangerine and shoved him back to sit properly in the seat.

As you also sat back, Ladybug triumphantly whispered, “Told you he was staring.”

The next 30 to 45 minutes of the auction was much of the same. Different jobs up for grabs flashed across the screen while members in the audience raised little auction cards to signal that they wanted to bid. You watched and committed to memory the most sought-after job and by which group. Naturally, since you were unable to participate, it was a complete fucking bore.

During a particularly long bid, going between two mob families for over 10 minutes, you lean over to Ladybug and whisper, “I’m going to the restroom. Let me know who wins this job.” He gives you a nod as you stand to leave.

Making your way down the corridor to the bathroom, the sound of your shoes clicking against the marbled floors bounces off the walls and back to you. It’s no surprise that the bathrooms are just as nice, spotless and adorned with fancy soaps and towels. So much money for a place that’s only used, at most, once a month.

Exiting the bathroom while smoothing down your shirt, you startle a little as you’re greeted by Tangerine’s intense blue eyes. He was casually leaned up against the corridor wall.

“Tangerine.” You greet, fixing him with a cool, even stare.

Something akin to amusement flashes in his eyes as he looks you over. “Sorry, love. Didn’t mean to scare you.”

You huff, purposefully relaxing your shoulders as you lean back against the doorway. “Not scared, you just surprised me. Didn’t expect to be followed to the bathroom.”

He pushes off the wall and takes a step closer. “I wanted to talk to you.”

Your eyes narrow, but there’s a hint of a smile on your lips. “About what?”

“I wanted to make sure you were doing alright…”

You could feel another question lingering in the air. “I’m doing good, Tangerine.”

His jaw clenched once, then twice. “Are you here to bid on a job?”

Slight annoyance spread into your words. “No, just browsing. I’m ready to get back out there, except my boss thinks I’m prone to shattering.”

He takes a step closer to you. “Please just…take it easy—at least for a little while.”

You give a firm shake of your head. “Between stewing in my apartment and going to physical therapy, I’ve been ‘taking it easy’ for seven months. That’s long enough.”

“If you push yourself too far you might end up getting hurt, again.”

You gave him a look, “I’m only going to get hurt if someone hits me with another car.”

The words sting him, even though you hadn’t meant them to. His eyes turn pleading. “Are you still upset?” He shakes his head, letting out a deep breath. You thought you saw wetness in the corners of his eyes before he blinked it away quickly. “You know I still feel terrible, it was a complete accident, love.”

It really had been an accident. Both working on the same job, but with limited communication, left windows for mistakes. So, when you came sprinting out of an alley and into the road while Tangerine was trying to find the right building the target was in, neither of you had time to react.

There’s a vague memory of him holding your hand in the backseat, wiping hair and grit off your face, as Lemon rushed to the emergency room.

You attempt to say something, a gentle smile peeking through, but he’s already speaking again. “Look, what more can I do to make it up to you? Name anything you want—it’s yours. Flowers? You want more flowers, like the ones I sent you in the hospital?”

He had sent countless bouquets of the most gorgeous flowers you had ever seen, every day like clockwork, for three weeks. By the time you left the hospital, your room had more color in it than you had ever seen. Each came with a hand written note from him. Some were pages long about how awful he felt and how sorry he was. You kept every note; they were on your bedside table.

Shaking your head, “No, no flowers. They were nice though; the notes were too—thank you.”

While he seemed momentarily pleased by that, his eyes flicked around the room, trying to come up with more things to give you. “Jewelry?

“No, really it’s—”

“—what about clothes?”

You take a step toward him. “Tangerine—”

“Your car out there’s nice, but I’ll get you a bloody new one. How about that? A little ironic, sure, but—”

“Tangerine!”

When he stops to fix you with round eyes, you laugh gently. “You don’t have to do anything, I’m not upset.”

His shoulders relax, an invisible weight dropping away. He closes the distance between you to under an arm’s length. “You’re sure? I mean, I’d really be happy to—”

Placing a hand on his chest, your laughing response is good natured. “I’m sure. You’re right it was an accident—no hard feelings.”

He’s smiling back now, infected by the sound of your laugh. A large gold-ringed hand comes up to wrap around yours on his chest, pinning it there. It’s warm. “Honestly, it’s a relief to see you again. I was so worried, all this time.”

Playfully, you asked, “You were worried I was mad at you this whole time? Seven months?”

“Sort of—yes, but more at the idea of you not coming back. Thought maybe you’d get offered a cozy desk job and like that more.”

“A desk job? And give up all the excitement? Not in a million years.” While chuckling at the idea, you miss the way his eyes soften and his hand lightly squeezes yours.

His eyes watch you gently. “It sounds silly now, yeah. Especially after seeing you again; I’d almost forgotten how lively you can be.”

With a hum, you stepped forward to look up at him, you were very close now. All it would take was to stand up on your toes and… “Was it boring without me?”

Tangerine seemed to notice the closeness as well, his breath was shaky. “Absolute torture, love.”

You brought your other hand up to rest against his chest. His heart was racing.

Moments before you were about to close the distance to his lips, he cleared his throat gently. “I just have one more question.”

Frowning a little at the way he looked suddenly perturbed, you asked, “What is it?”

“Who’s that fuckin’ prick you walked in with?”

The tiniest snort left you before you could hold it back. “Ladybug?”

“Yeah, I don’t give a fuck what his name is. What’s he doin’ bumpin’ elbows with you?”

Something about Tangerine’s accent getting thicker as he became more upset did things to you. Trying to hold back a few giggles, you spoke plainly. “He’s an old friend of mine—a colleague.”

Tangerine looked at you closely, as if this was a very serious matter, but there was a hint of a smile behind his eyes. “Oh, are you havin’ a laugh? I haven’t seen you in forever and you come in with some fuckin’ bloke, carryin’ on back and forth, as if that doesn’t drive me completely mad.”

By this point, you are laughing which only spurs him on. “Well, I’m glad that you’re havin’ a grand time of it. I’ve been in complete agony. Seven whole months, love. That’s how long I’ve had to wait to see you—and you walk in, smiling at him, and not me—"

The only thing that shuts him up is when you press your lips to his with a smile; whatever he was saying died off with the smallest of whines. You feel his strong hands move to wrap around the small of your back, pulling you closer as he moves his mouth back against yours. His mustache scratches your face but the warmth of his lips on yours drowns out the feeling.

He speaks in broken sentences between kisses, murmuring against your lips with a growl that vibrates through him. “Don’t ever—put your hands—on his chest—again.”

When Tangerine feels your slow smile through the kiss, he tries to pull away and give you another warning, but a gentle bite on his lower lip stops him.

You whisper a cheeky, “Yes, sir”, that has him groaning into you, his lips turn feverish. His tongue swipes at your bottom lip.

You’re about to open your mouth for him when you hear a loud cough to the side, down the corridor. Instantly you pull away, face flushing a scarlet red. You would have jumped back if Tangerine’s arms weren’t stubbornly still wrapped around you.

Ladybug watched with raised eyebrows and a grin, pointing a thumb over his shoulder. “Auctions’ over.”

Tangerine’s words angrily drown yours out. “Oi! Can’t you see we’re busy? Fuck off, ya cunt.”

Unwrapping his hands from around your back, you chide softly, “Be nice to Ladybug.”

His fingers grasp at your clothes, tugging in protest, as you move away and walk toward your friend. His glowering eyes burn into your back as Ladybug waggles his eyebrows.

With one last adoring look at Tangerine, that sends his heart fluttering, you wave. “I’ll see you around.”

. . .

“There a reason why you’re keen to rip the handle off that door, mate?”

Lemon eyes Tangerine closely as his brother yanks open the passenger side door, but says nothing in response. They stand on opposite sides of their car in the lot. From his side, Tangerine can see you chatting with that blond prat by your car.

When Lemon is met with silence, he tries again. “Did you get a chance to talk, at least?”

“We talked, yeah. It was good.”

Lemon wasn’t convinced. “Then why does it look like you’ve got a thunderstorm over your head?”

Tangerine doesn’t hear him as he watches you hug Ladybug goodbye. Lemon’s eyes follow his and suddenly he understands. He makes a noise. “Oh, come off it. I told you, they’re nothing more than friends.”

As you open the door to your own car, Tangerine catches your eyes. Pausing, you give him a delighted smile, then disappear as the door closes.

Lemon sighs, getting into the car. “You’ve got to talk to someone about your jealousy. I’m serious.”

As he ducks to sit down, Tangerine shoots back. “I don’t usually have a problem, it’s just the way that muppet grins—”

The Twins arguing is muffled incoherently to the outside world as Tangerine slams the door shut.

🍊 Tag list: @whatiswrongwithpeople @marquisdefrenchfry @everythingisspokenfortbh @titaniusanglesmith @sjprongs @piechans @cherrygayness

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spidergenius · 9 months

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hey there! love your work. was wondering if you could do an overstimulated neurodivergent/autistic reader hurt+comfort with tangerine boyfriend? if youre uncomfortable writing that its okay just an idea!!! have a nice day :)

A/N: ABSOLUTELY ANON yk im somewhat of a neurodivergent myself aha. And while I'd like to say i'm experienced with writing these sort of fics, each and every one of us experiences overstimulation differently, so in this fic, i want to take the idea of Social Overstim (Where you're used to follow a specific pattern or schedule in a day but it suddenly doesn't go the way it should've) Enjoy y'all!

Pulse

TANGERINE X M!READER

tags: Tangerine x m!Reader, autistic!Reader, soft!Tangerine, domesticity, panic attacks, overstim (and not the good kind :[ ), hurt-comfort, cuddling

What happens when your usually efficient schedule turns on its axis, so now it's up to Tangerine to take care of you.

—

you prided myself on being an efficient and vigilant intel agent. You weren't necessarily the tidiest; with your reports usually being bull points of highlighted information squished together with habits your nitpick from the target, but you send them on time and with enough information, so, the title goes. Efficient and vigilant.

The agency has benefited from your intel multiple times, making you the head of the agency's intel program. You remembered the ceremony when they promoted you; Tangerine and Lemon stood behind the crowd of executives, proud smiles on both of their faces. You could never forget the way Tangerine pulled you aside and gave you a bone crunching hug, not to mention the soul sucking blowjob later that night.

Your brain's functions simply; follow schedules, add chores that needs to be done for the day, don't forget to kiss Tangerine goodbye for the morning, and do hobbies after work. Each and every day, you follow that specific pattern of events in order to maximize your productivity. Maybe that's why you were efficient, you have a schedule and that schedule must be followed.

Today isn't any different.

You awake minutes before Tangerines, soaking up the warmth of your boyfriends bare chest while you study the little details on his serene structure. The slight flutter of his lashes, sharp bones shape the devastatingly beautiful face of his, parted lips that tempt you to kiss them, even down to his mustache, slightly askew from moving around at night. You smile, pressing a kiss to your boyfriend's temple before sliding out of the bed and padding into the bathroom.

You took your time getting ready after a shower, spraying your favorite cologne before combing back your hair, the suit you laid out last night already worn as today's armor.

When you exit the bathroom, Tangerine is still sleeping soundly, though his position has changed. He's no longer on his side, opting to curl in on himself and cuddle your pillow, grumbling slightly. When it was the start of your relationship, you were worried Tan was having nightmares with the way he clings to your leftover scent, but now you know he's just missing you in bed so he acts as a sponge to the smell on your pillow. You chuckle as you walk past him, opening the bedroom door softly to walk into the apartment.

You set yourself on making him breakfast, as usual. The coffee maker is already running so you scour the fridge for breakfast items. You noticed the eggs have run out, and so has the pancake mix. You'll have to add that to the grocery list. For now, breakfast will have to be toast with butter.

When you've pressed down on the toaster and started to work on your beverage of choice, you hear a slew of swears, before the steady thrum of the shower follows, notifying you of your boyfriend's awakening.

Sure enough, not long after you've settled on the kitchen island with two plates of toast and sipping on your mug, Tangerine walks out ready for the day. Immaculate suit accentuates your boyfriend's lean body as he saunters to the island, crisp gray suit and pants, sleek tie in place, equipped with his shoulder holsters that pushes at his dress shirt making you look away in order to avoid a tight pants. taking his seat next to you, he kisses you with a mumble of "Good morning" before he starts eating.

When you've finished your plate and placed them in the sink, precisely on time; Lemon comes barging into yours and Tangerines apartment with a cheer. "Morning brotha's!"

He slips next to Tangerine, steals a toast, before he starts debriefing the man with any and all upcoming missions, against his will of course. He doesn't mind, it's the way the twins start their morning, so it has become a part of yours and Tan's routine.

While Lemon gives Tangerine a choice of either going to Prouge or Jakarta for their next mission,—"Because we're ain't goin' to Germany again mate,"—You got your case ready, umbrella in hand.

"Don't forget your dagger belt and extra ammo dear, I've shined your favorite butterfly knife and left it on the dresser so bring that too alright?" Stepping around the boys as you made sure you've strapped on your watch and rings, before passing behind Tangerine and pressing a short kiss on his lips, earning a smile from the brunette, and patting Lemon on the back before you make your way to the hallway leading to the door.

Last check for any stray hair strands before you deemed it sufficient, and slip on your work shoes.

"Have a great day love! See you tonight!" Tangerine calls. You couldn't help the familiar smile.

"You too dear, love you!"

"Love ya' too!" And the door closes behind you.

The start of the day is like any other, setting up for another perfect day.

—

Is what you would say, if it did turn out per scheduled.

When you arrived at work, at your usual time which is 8 AM sharp, you fellow intel agents seemed on edge as you made your way to your desk. Not a minute passes before an alarm rings, indicating a mission gone rogue and a number of Intel agents are needed on their desk. An emergency you anticipated of course, if it weren't for the multiple rogue missions, needing every agent on deck.

So you spent the better half of the morning making sure Lioness—a rookie agent that transferred from the Philippines—did not get shot in an alleyway in Europe and finally secured at her extractions site. The whole time you needed you constantly spin a pen in your hand in order to maintain focus.

Another half of the day was spent compiling all of the lost files from the rogue missions and making sure your coworkers were compiling theirs, asking them to send it to you once they have. Hence, another 3 hours in front of your monitor while you organize each and every incident report, damages and expenses needed to be covered by the agency.

When you finally have time for yourself, the clock strikes 3 PM which is already past lunch, but despite it all you still walked to the cafe to get your usual meal. You'd usually order yourself a cup of coffee and a pastry of your choice, the thought of a sweet baked goods to fix the day excited you.

When you arrived at the cafe, sadly what's only available was your coffee since their baker has fallen sick today, so the cafe is unable to provide any pastries. You smile, says it's alright, and took your coffee back to your desk.

5 PM rolls around, your coworkers begins filling out of their work areas. You packed your case, made sure to throw out any trash that was on your desk, and follow the others as they make their way to the elevator and up. Once on the surface, you said your goodbyes and head home.

On the train ride home, it was oddly crowded that what you're used to. People lining up and pushing you until somehow you ended up in the middle of it all, holding on for dear life. Maybe you've miscalculated the time you went home because it's never this crowded, never this humid. A miscalculation, of course.

"Honey, I'm home," You called, hearing Tangerine shuffle inside the house.

"Kitchen!" He relies, clearly engrossed in whatever dinner item he's making. You slip off your work shoes and loosen your tie, oddly enough you feel it as if it's choking you. While you walk through the hallway shedding your jacket, Tangerine, with his pink 'kiss the cook' apron, peaks his head from behind the opened fridge doors. "Are we outta eggs?"

Fuck, the eggs! And the pancakes, and the… I was supposed to go grocery shopping today. Shit! Why did i… no, fuck, i forgot i-

"Hey, hey, darling?" You blink, blurry vision unable to identify the person in front of you, though the velvety voice gives you an idea. "Love, angel, are you alright?" His voice wavers, worried. Why was Tangerine worried?

Strong hands hold your arms, not pushing or pulling, just there. Slowly, blinking the droplets away until they run down your cheek, you make out the striking blue and adorable curls in front of you. His brows are furrowed, bowing until he reaches your level. Slowly. painstakingly slow, he leads you to the couch until you've sat, then he cradles your head into the crook of his neck, the sudden scent of Tangerine—Your Tangerine—makes you slightly dizzy.

"Slowly, my dear, focus on my pulse," He whispers, running gentle hands through your hair, pulling you closer. You breathe in, the smell of sandalwood and cigarettes and Tangerine fills your lungs. Breathing out, you feel the steady pulse of your boyfriends under your ear. "There we are," He continues to comb your hair, occasionally rubbing at your nape, down to your back.

"I…" You began, before tears spilled over and you had to hiccup and force yourself to inhale in order to not choke on yourself. Tangerine holds you through it. "I'm sorry it's…"

"Don't apologize love, it's alright," You inhale, shakily you find the energy to crawl into Tangerine's lap, your boyfriend hauling the rest of your weight into his lap until you sit comfortably.

"Tired…" You finally managed through ragged breath. "Everything was… wrong. Too much,"

"Okay. Alright angel," He cuddles you closer until you hear the beat of his heart, your head against his chest, large hands securing your back and rubbing gently. The wall broke. Thick droplets run down your cheeks, your breath coming in short as you bury your face into your boyfriend's shirt. Knuckles white as you cling to the fabric, quivers wreck your whole frame. You try to inhale, only to sob and double over, curling in on yourself while trying to burrow deeper into Tangerine's warmth, become one and leave the living because everything is too much.

Tangerine holds you through it, a steady rhythm of heartbeats and rubbing soothingly up and down your back. Occasionally, he runs his hands through your locks, untangling the stress of today. He waits, oh so patiently. until your breathing slowly comes back around, your body's shaking subsides and the tears are dried into sniffles.

"Alright?" His voice lulls you, you meekly nod in response. Tangerine nods back, before he stands up with you in his arms, making you jump and wrap around his neck.

"Tan!" You chuckle into his curls, the man simply hums as he walks through the house, carrying you bridal style. "What are you doing!"

"Takin' care of ya. Obviously, dinner can wait, but you my dear," He stops, blue eyes meet yours. "Can not wait."

He unceremoniously dumped you on the bed, making you giggle. He drapes the comforter on you and fluffs the pillow. "M'gonna grab some water and a snack, be right back alright luv,"

Oh, does his accent get thicker when he's sappy like this? You thought, which made you grin into the pillow you're currently hugging.

True to his words, Tangerine comes back with 2 bottles of water and your favorite chips, the ones you saved for movie nights when you and your boyfriend get the chance. He places them on the nightstand before stripping his shirt, your eyes rakes the expanse of Tangerine's defined abdomen.

"Let's get you outta these yea?" He gestures to what's left of your suit.

"Oh! right, yeah," You shimmy out of your vest and dress shirt, then your pants, leaving you bare with your undershirt and boxers.

"You want a sweater or a hoodie tonight?" Tangerine rummages through the dresser, his brows furrowed in search of your chosen article.

"Sweater, i think," He nods, grabbing one of your softer ones and helping you settle in them. Once you are nestled in the cocoon of pillows and blankets, Tangerine joins the pile and wraps his arms from behind you, pulling your body until you're settled between his legs. You sigh, arching your head until it rests on your boyfriend's strong shoulders.

"I know how important your schedule is," He runs his fingers through your hair. "And how overwhelmed you can get,"

"Tomorrow, we'll take a break from our pattern, spend a day at home, yea?"

"What about your mission?"

"I'd drop the whole world to spend time with you, the mission can kiss my arse,"

You spend the rest of the night talking about your day to Tangerine, your boyfriend listening intently and answering if needed. He also explained the briefing with Lemon and what his next missions entails, when he's going to leave and with who. But honestly, you could care less about when your boyfriend is leaving if he's currently spending his precious time pampering you.

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