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obae-me · 3 months

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Would He Peel The Orange?

(I hope this hasn't been done too much already, but I really wanted to do it) So, if you've been in the same internet circle as I've been in, you probably know about this trend that's going around right now where people ask their partner to peel an orange for them. It's supposed to kind of signify your partner's willingness to do something important to you, even if it seems mundane or even inconvenient for them. So of course, I wanted to imagine what our favorite boys would do in this scenario.

Note: This is just for silly goofy times. A little ha-ha funny jape, if you will. Meaning not serious. If I think a character would not peel an orange, I don't think they're suddenly toxic or would not love the MC or anything.

"Could you peel an orange for me?"

Lucifer

To those of you who say he is too prideful to peel an orange for you, do I need to point out that he is the eldest sibling? Not only that, but he's practically a single mom. He has Sloth as the baby brother of the family. Do you think Belphie peels his own oranges? No! Lucifer probably cuts the crusts off of his brother's sandwiches for heaven sakes.

Is it heaven sakes or heaven's sake?... I actually don't know

However, I do think he would get suspicious, especially if you're trying to film his reaction. He would raise an eyebrow and know that there's something more to you just wanting an orange. Is this orange cursed? Is this a prank? You'll have to convince him it's perfectly normal before he straight up refuses.

Is he going to get up from his desk or move away from work to go grab you an orange? Probably not. But if you bring it to him, he will peel it for you, giving you a weird- and maybe slightly judging- look the entire time.

He will peel it very nicely, but you would have to take the peel back to toss yourself all while demanding to know why you have such a smirk on your face.

If you explain it to him, he'll definitely get a bit smug. "Who knew all it would take to prove my love to you was peeling an orange? If you needed some assurance, I would've gladly provided more for you."

He wins this one. He peeled the orange.

But...he might be asking his own favor from you later. So, minus one point for that, but they do say the devil dances in dealings, so...

7/10

Mammon

"Huh? Why do you need me to peel it for you, your hands broken or somethin'? I'm not your damn maid."

He is already peeling the orange. He is somehow managing to grumble and act like he's not doing it while he is in the process of doing it.

And if you don't have oranges on hand? Just give him any excuse to go shopping and he will take it. And not only will he peel those oranges, he'll buy them for you too.

And sure maybe he's a little ditsy and might not know what the difference between an orange, a tangerine, and a clementine is (they're all orange, dammit), but he will be buying you ALL of them just in case.

Listen, he's a man with impulse problems and an intense desire to be your number one demon.

Did he probably spend the next few hours in the store getting himself stuff as well? Probably, yeah. He see shiny, he get shiny.

But don't worry. He will peel you that orange.

And you will be eating an assortment of orange colored fruits for the next few days.

Is...this a peach?

9/10

Levi

If he's gaming, probably not. Some games can't be paused. And it's not even that he doesn't want to, he'll probably be glad to do so, but he'll do it once this round is over.

And then he'll probably forget. Which, fair, I do it too. You get into the zone and then six hours have passed. Sometimes the measure of love can't always be held behind an orange.

However!

If a controller is not in his hand and his mind is not occupied by several random colorful flashes, he might peel the orange.

BUT

If too many other people are around, he might get anxiety.

You know when you somehow manage to fumble peeling an orange? You can't manage to break the peel properly or you end up dropping it and looking like a fool?

If you've never had performance anxiety over peeling an orange, you... well that's actually really good, you must have a much more peaceful mind-- but it exists for us anxious people, okay?! It's too much pressure!

In the end, he's very situational! But that doesn't mean he refuses to peel you an orange! It would actually make him very happy to do that for you...

5/10

Satan

Very confused. Will ask too many questions before he does anything.

Are you hurt? Is the peel too tough for human fingers? If you're having a hard time using your fingers, why not get a knife or a tool to assist you? Why are you in his room rather than the kitchen? Is that not a waste of energy? What if he'd not been here, would you have wandered around?

He doesn't get it. He means well though.

He might get a little irritated, not so much at you as at himself. He feels like he's missing something.

Is this some form of human bonding? Are you afraid of the orange? What secrets does it hold?

He will peel it for you. He'll even put his book down to do so.

But please answer his questions, he can't find the logic in seeking him out just to peel a fruit for you. He can list off several other more efficient methods.

If you explain it to him, you'll see him visibly relax. So there was some deeper meaning.

Although now he might think that this form of act is some sort of love declaration. Prepare to have him peel and/or cut all your fruits from now on. Which... is actually kind of sweet. What a gentleman.

8/10

Asmo

No... with his nails?! Please. I've only worn fake nails like twice in my entire life, and doing anything like that with those little suckers hurts like hell. Why?? Tried to open a can once and thought my real nail would peel right off.

And even if he's not wearing fake nails, getting that pulpy orange peel underneath your fingernails?! Having the juice make your fingers all sticky? No. Awful. Bad texture. I've always headcanoned Asmo with texture issues, and if his are even close to being like mine, it's gonna be a no.

BUT

If you want an orange so badly, I can guarantee he knows all these cute little places around town that make delicious fruit selections! He'd probably go out and get you one of those beautiful and decorative edible fruit arrangements and make sure they somehow include lots of orange.

Or, if you don't want that and you just want a normal orange right NOW, he'll charm someone else to peel it for you, hon. Don't even worry.

And once it's peeled, to make up for not doing it himself, he'll be all to happy to feed it to you if you want him to. ~

Never underestimate the lengths he'll go to provide for you and himself at the same time.

6.5/10 I appreciate the hustle.

Beel

I... I mean... he's gonna eat it.

Love the man to death, but if you hand him an orange before you fully preface that it's yours and you just want it peeled, it's gone. He probably didn't even peel it before he ate it too. Probably just eats it like an apple.

But, but, but, he'll get you a new one. So please don't look so sad...

It might be best if you accompany him just in case, but he'll absolutely get you another one. Besides, he wants more himself now, that first one was delicious.

He'll gather a whole basket of oranges and you can share them together.

One slice for you...five for him. Another slice for you...

It make take a minute to get a full orange's worth, but it's about the attempt and the time spent. And he's technically actually peeling SO many oranges for you.

I'd also like to point out that I have actually written out a scene in one of my stories where Beel actually EXACTLY peels an orange FOR MC. WAY before this trend was a thing.

--Eventually he came across an orange, peeling off the wax shell meant to serve as extra preservation. Citrus flooded your nose. Your mouth actually watered at the scent, watching Beel strip the fruit before peeling it apart. A sniff, and then it was actually handed to you.

So he would! 100 times over! Even in my silly little side story where everyone is nearly on the brink of death and in a freezing wasteland, he would still peel an orange for you!

10/10 Minus one point for eating your orange first, plus one point for peeling you an orange in another universe.

Belphie

Y...yeah, no. No, he won't.

Or there's at least a very slim chance he will. He does get in weird moods sometimes where he wants to pamper you, but that's on his own terms and his own time.

He doesn't even peel his own oranges, as I previously stated in Lucifer's section.

If you just waltz up to him and ask him to peel it for you...there's a 95% chance he will not. Most of it being due to him being asleep. You would probably have a better chance trying to train him to peel an orange while sleepwalking. That might work. Would also probably make a good party trick.

But, he's weird at remembering details like this. Even if he doesn't act on it right now, it will be logged in his memory. You could mention something briefly once seven months ago and he'll bring it up to you and remember the conversation completely like it happened yesterday.

So, even if he doesn't peel the orange now, when he's in the mood, maybe after his nap, maybe the next day, maybe two weeks after in which you had forgotten it, he will bring you a peeled orange.

Either that or he'll do what Asmo does and make someone else peel it for you.

3/10

Diavolo

You want him to peel your orange for you? You mean... he gets to treat someone like that for once?! ABSOLUTELY.

He is all too happy to peel you an orange! This is like, groundbreaking for him. He gets to provide! Gets to hand you a tiny fruit, broken and prepared with his own two hands! Is this how Barbatos feels when he cooks?

How does one exactly peel an orange, though?... He's seen them whole like this before, but they're typically already in strips when he gets around to eating them.

Break the skin? What, like an egg?

Well...there goes your orange.

On the bright side, it seems he's very good at making orange juice.

But fear not! He'll have Barbatos bring another one!

Wait...look, see, they come pre-peeled. Oh...you mean Barbatos has been peeling all his fruits for him this entire time? He's never known the joyful luxury of unveiling and working for the literal fruits of his labor?! This will change today.

Get another orange, unpeeled, and he will do it himself this time!

It might take some personal discovery and some patience before he peels you an orange, but it will get done, he swears it!

11/10 Plus one point for wholesome life lessons and sheer determination.

Barbatos

An orange? Just a plain orange? If you wait just a moment, he could have an orange chiffon cake, or would you perhaps prefer some orange panna cotta? Orange Merengue pie? Pound cake? Made into a buttercream? A pudding? A sorbet? A sherbet? Served as a juice? Main flavor or just as a zest? Would you like a meal before dessert? Or he could always find healthier options for oranges? Would you like him to list of those options as well?

Okay, so... he overcorrects a little bit.

Bottom line is, he'd peel you an orange. He'd make an entire seven course meal based around oranges. Make it all the color orange if you'd prefer.

Like I said though, he tends to overdo it.

He falls into his royal butlery habits and misses the fact that this is supposed to be so important to you because it's so simple. Although it's cute the way an ever powerful ever perfect being can miss such a detail.

You might have to put your foot down a bit and not let yourself get carried away in the splendor. You just want this orange. This one orange, and if he could just peel it for you, that's all you want.

So he'll take his gloves off and peel it for you. He'll make sure all the extra little white strands are plucked off as well. And he double checks it for seeds.

Are you sure this is all you want? "I guess something so simple can often be taken for granted. I forget that sometimes."

12/10 He'll probably still end up making you several other orange treats and he learned a valuable lesson today. It's a win for everyone.

Simeon

Are you kidding me?

This man probably brought the orange with him. You probably didn't even need to bring it up! He's single dad with two one kid and a sorcerer. He's like that sweet mom who always has certain things on hand. Medicine? Bandages? Spare cash? Candy? Gum? He's got it. He puts the Guardian in guardian angel.

You want that orange? He'll peel that orange, you just hold on. Let's make sure your hands are clean. Use this hand sanitizer he brought with him. Here, have a granola bar while you're at it. Are you hungry? You didn't skip lunch, did you? Here, take this water bottle, you look a bit dehydrated.

Oh dear, and your hands feel so dry! Here, he brought some lotion.

This angel is 100% fully here for you. You are about to be so taken care of.

Not even oranges. You want your apples fully peeled and sliced? Got it. Want something pitted? He can do that too. He'd be willing to stain his fingers and clothes on a pomegranate for you. How is he doing this even outside of the house? Magic or something probably.

He'd pack you an orange in a cute little bag with a hand written note and a short poem.

This man is a real one.

100/10 He definitely thinks that LOL means lots of love.

Solomon

Are...you sure you know what you're doing? He will absolutely peel you an orange, but at what cost?

If you're not careful, not only will he peel you an orange, but he'll add some of his Special Solomon Spices to make your experience all the more... thrilling.

Quite like how thrilling bungee jumping in the dark could be...

Also, he might just try to peel it with magic, which, while nice of him, defeats the purpose of the entire test.

You'll have to specify he's to do it by hand, and keep an unblinking, ever-careful eye on him to make sure he doesn't 'enhance' the flavor.

But, all in all, he does it. Quite happily too, one might add.

Are you sure you just want an orange? He'd be glad to whip something up for you if you're feeling peckish!

You kind of... tempt fate with this one.

2/10 One point for wanting to peel the orange, one point for trying to go the extra mile. But... well... Will you survive is the thing? You might want to try to measure his love for you using different non-edible methods.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me nightbringer #obey me headcanons #obey me imagines #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me levi #obey me satan #obey me asmo #obey me beel #obey me belphie #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #obey me simeon #obey me solomon

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alexlwrites · 3 months

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from my notes app:

Just picture it: Yoongi who just... never had a crush. Sure, he has felt attraction that sometimes evolved into something more through dates or other encounters. But a crush? Feet kicking, face blushing, giddy giggles? No, he couldn't say he ever experienced that.

Until you.

Until you showed up, a new manager at the company, and left him shaking in his disconcertingly large boots. You were bright, witty, charismatic and hard working and he stood there, arms hanging by his side awkwardly like a damn emoji, hovering around you unsure about what to do, what to say, how to act.

It was so frustrating! He never felt this way before and at 30 years old he felt as if he was going through a late puberty: voice cracking when he tried talking to you, waking up sweating from a dream way too realistic, poorly timed boners when he saw you walking around the office with skin tight pencil skirts.

His so called friend weren't making it any easier for him: Yoongi had officially become the butt of every joke as the members collectively regressed back to the 5th grade, murmuring everytime you showed up "here comes your wife, hyung, here comes Mrs. Suga".

Thankfully, you seemed unaware of their jabs, even as yoongi's pale cheeks blushed fiercely at the name.

He didn't know whether to be greatful or resentful for your obliviousness. On one side, you didn’t seem to hear the constant on going teasing from the other 6 raccoons he shared a band with, which saved yoongi from the swift death at the pearly hands of embarrassment, ripping his dramatic soul from his even more dramatic body.

On the other hand, you couldn’t seem to take a hint! He tried all of his best moves: standing there silently next to you, offering you a single tangerine, playing the guitar when you walked in whilst offering absolutely no explanation or context, even wearing his most scandalous, whorish outfit: a white tshirt that showed his collarbones instead of his usual 37 layers of clothing.

He didn't know how to make it any more obvious! Should he just take you against the wall of his studio (he totally should!, his lower brain unhelpfully provided as you once again strutted past him leaving him sniffing after your perfume like the fucking dog he was)?

He even tried asking his friends for advice, the lowest form of humiliation possible: Jungkook offered only baby oil and told him to lose a couple buttons. Hoseok made him couple matching beaded bracelets. And Namjoon, scorpio venus horndog, told him to actually go through with the wall taking idea.

Funnily enough, Jin was the one with the most plausible idea: give her a gift, bake her something! Homemade goods would show her how much you care.

So there he was, at thirty years old, holding onto a plate of cookies like a lifeline, cold sweating in front of your office, ready to flee the building and suck up those cookies like a hungry Kirby and mop in his own lameness like the international grammy nominee celebrity he was.

And then you opened the door and his body just reacted on his own, thrusting the plate towards you silently as his eyes screamed pure panic.

"For me?" You asked and he just nodded "Thank you so much, you are so sweet!"

Yoongi felt his lips curving and even without a mirror he could tell he had a dumbstruck smile on his face.

"What's the occasion?"

Ask her out, he urged himself. Tell her how you feel, how you can't stop thinking about her face, how her smile fuled his daydreams and her perfume haunts his days, bleeding into his psyche and sinking its claws into his heart, turning every song he wrote into a proclamation of adoration and lust, tell her how...

"Hm, for all y-your hard wo-work" he sputtered, mentally face palming himself at his own words.

Bugger.

Bugger it all to hell.

(Part 2>>>)

#bts fanfic #bts x reader #bts scenarios #bts fluff #yoongi #yoongi fanfic #min yoongi x y/n #yoongi x reader

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bluemari23 · 1 month

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bts and how they would love their plus size s/o

pairings: bts x reader genre: fluff, smut, warnings: suggestive but also more, face sitting, thigh riding, body worship, possessive jungkook, hobo is a boob man, mr tongue technology, masterlist

Namjoon

loves to kiss your stretch marks. like absolutely loves them. loves to trace them as well

"they give me a map to loving you"

insists on cuddling on the couch, knowing there isn't a lot of room so you have to lay on him

"it's okay, baby, come lay on me"

loves when you where his clothes, especially when you only wear one of his shirts (loves how they barely cover your thighs)

his favorite physical part about you is your thighs, they literally make him drool

"c'mere babygirl. let me help you" when he sees you struggling with your thoughts. he knows you constantly think you're too heavy or big for him. he's not having it

holds your hips and guides your movements as you ride his thigh. loves knowing he can make you cum with just his thighs, flexing it and holding you tight.

Jin

also a thigh man but for different reasons (kind of)

loves wrapping his arms around you and holding you from behind

loves to make new recipes for you to try and test out

loves that he can provide for you and your shared love of food

"just one more minute, baby" when you try to get out of bed but he isn't done cuddling you yet

will happily hype you up in new clothes

"world wide beautiful" is your new title

his love of eating translates to other things as well

"please babygirl" as he pleads for you to sit on his face

will happily die under your pussy and the way your thighs clench around his head when you cum

loves to take care of you and provide for you

Yoongi

doesn't take anyone's shit when it comes to you

very protective lover

don't have to think around him at all

will only do interviews with weverse if even one person does an unflattering article about you (will sue anyone and everyone)

at first you are uncomfortable with his constant touches and hungry gazes but then they become almost comforting

always keeps snacks for you two to share, especially tangerines

writes numerous songs for you

loves to hold you with his hand resting on your stomach (will rub at the stretch marks and whisper absolute desire in your ear)

loves to claim you in his studio, vocal about his desire and love for you

passionate in his body worship of you, especially when he finds out how much you love his tongue and how it feels on you

"feel so good against me, princess"

Hosoek

loves to dress you and help expand your fashions sense

is the one to help you feel more confident in your body and happy to show it off

loves when you come home and do a fashion show of him in your new clothes (especially when you buy some lingerie)

can't keep his hands off of you

ever

loves how soft your skin is and is constantly fondling your curves

wants to just hold your breasts in his hands

says his hands could be a better bra for you (hates how you end up with marks from the wires in your bras and how they hurt at the end of the day)

loves to just randomly nibble at your skin (thinks it looks delicious and loves the giggles you make every time)

"all of this, just for me" as he thrusts deeply into you, kissing at your breasts

Jimin

loves how warm you are and will always be found cuddling you no matter where you both are

finds you absolutely adorable and smiles wide every time you come into a room

loves to dress you up and take pictures of you (keeps you as his lock screen and home screen)

can get jealous when other people look at you

"say you're mine, baby"

is there to listen and help you with your own body image issues,

is always there to remind you how beautiful you are

is completely into body worship

"look so pretty for me, all dressed up like this"

would also love face sitting to be honest. like cannot get enough of the way you look down at him, pulling at his hair as you cum

Taehyung

thinks nothing of your weight until he sees you looking in the mirror, holding and becoming insecure over every one of your "problem areas"

will have nothing of you thinking you have problem areas

thinks you're a goddess

"all art work must be thoroughly examined to be fully appreciated"

will spend hours making you feel good and loving on each of you "problem areas" tell you each reason why he loves you

loves to see you in his jackets,

ends up buying matching outfits for you to wear out

will kiss you every couple minutes, just because he loves the feeling of your lips

Jungkook

would be the person to keep going to the gym for you

"I will always be able to carry you"

loves to manhandle you (knowing you get absolutely horny for him when he does so)

is possessive of you and your body

loves when you were dresses that are sort of revealing because it means you're feeling good in your body (and he's the only one who can touch you)

his favorite position is when you ride him so he can see all of you

especially loves watching your breasts bounce from each thrust up he makes

loves seeing his handprints on your hips or ass from you riding him

is also into body worship because he loves your body and just how perfect it is for him

"so perfect for me, baby. take my cock so well"

#bts #bts au #bts headcanons #boyfriend bts #bts x reader #fluff #smut #bluemari23

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kaicubus · 1 year

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Shoplifting | Wayne M.

warnings ✩° : smut, cursing, partial exhibitionism, fucking in a public place but in a private setting, enclosed space intimacy, p in v, unprotected sex bc i forgot to write a condom in, cursing.

pairing ✩° : wayne x fem!reader, characters are of age and NOT minors.

premise ✩° : known to be a bit of a kleptomaniac, you go to the mall with wayne in hopes of stealing some pricey clothes from a store only to find the two of you locked inside a changing room. what better to do than to take advantage of the situation?

word count ✩° : 4.8k

authors note ✩° : guys writers block is real. finishing this was HELL. might take a short break...just like this fic tho it’s short and rushed...i need my smut writing skills to improve IMMEDIATELY.

There’s something about the color orange that sticks out to you. Most people don’t like it, some do, but only because they’re taught it means warmth like summer or sweet like a tangerine. But you always thought orange was just a really nice color, no explanation. That’s why you chose it.

It was found on a rack in one of the most expensive stores in the mall that was known for its wide, yet very exclusive, selection of tops and lingerie. Victoria’s Secret.The prices in that store are always really high, so you just like to browse. Or at least that’s what you make it seem like.

Truth is, being a bit of a kleptomaniac has its perks. You don’t even think twice about grabbing tubes of $20 lip glosses or $36 perfumes and sliding them up your long sleeve hoodies or jean pockets. It comes naturally and you are a known prodigy in your craft. Long before anyone can realize or even detect on cameras, you leave with your pockets full of both money and items that would cost a fortune. The mall is your playground, and it’s not hard to get what you want.

Today you came in with your boyfriend Wayne, who’s known to be very strange looking. That’s not a bad thing, since it works out in your favor sometimes when you’re being followed or people try to hit on you or even worse, try and hurt you. But other than that, Wayne is known to be the reason people look the other way or lock their doors and shade their windows. No one knows how loving he is towards you, like a bear drawn to honey. He would do anything for you. But, side by side, it would be hard to go into certain stores without be given weird glances or worse, followed around.

When you first entered Victoria’s secret, you told Wayne specifically to wait outside, but knowing he’d get impatient with you, you gave him a task instead and asked for different sizes of different sets you liked. He gladly accepted, leaving you alone to try on different undergarments and admire yourself in the mirror for as long as two minutes per set. You knew he’d be at a loss without you in a forest of lace and ivory mannequins, and a part of you liked knowing that. You're lost in your own thoughts when you came across the orange and white set, now fitting along the curves of your waist and hugging the plushness of your belly, pinching you in all the right places that only enhances your beauty.

Your eyes trace along the fabric, how the white mesh covers over your barely hidden breasts, little embroidered oranges scattered across it in an orderly fashion. The cuteness of the design completely clashed with the way the bra was manufactured to be what you liked to call a window piece, but it seemed to work really well. You spin around, glancing at the panties from behind and noticing how it straddled your inner thighs and almost pushed out your ass more than usual.

It was a good look, maybe a bit too tight, but it wasn’t constricting. Of course, the price made you gag, making it more appetizing to take off and slip into your tote bag resting on the seat provided in the dressing room you're already in. All you had to do was take off the tag and toss it on the floor, on top of the mirror or something. Luckily for you, taking off tags was one of your specialties, though finding them was a struggle.

You let out a sigh and begin tapping your hand around the usual places where a tag would be : on the side of the underwear, back of the bra, inside of the bra, but none seemed to have the tag. You started to wonder if the tag was already taken off which would make snagging it much easier than you’d hoped until the sharp edge of the thin piece of hard plastic struck the tip of your finger, located on the very back of the bra. Finding the plastic attachment of the tag, your fingers curl around to gain tension and then you start to pull at it, plucking it off easily. In your moment of fumbling however, you notice the doorknob start to jiggle just enough to catch your attention.

For a moment, you freeze. Every nerve in your body tells you to stop even though your thoughts are screaming to move and get the garment off your body, but you don’t move. Your hands stay on the tag and instead, you watch the doorknob slowly turn, painfully staring with an owl like expression, each hair standing upright. That all stopped when the door slowly pushes itself open, revealing a very familiar tattered hand, bruises and cuts all over pale skin, holding two more sizes of the same two piece set you had tried on earlier.

You feel a wave or relaxation wash over your body as your eyes stare into your boyfriend’s dull, grayish eyes that seem to go full and wide when he looks at you. Only this time, his head is just slightly tilted down as he’s busy looking at other bra and underwear sets of the same orange piece.

“I got the other sizes.” Wayne says, “They said all these funny lookin’ numbers, but I just took whatever ones looked like your size and—”

You grab the doorknob quickly and pull Wayne in, shoving him against the wall next to you with a firm hand on his arm in just under a second. Your eyes flare with a flash of anger, anger at Wayne that he managed to scare you so bad, but also anger that you got worked up for no reason. The pounding of your heart in your chest makes you shake.

“Jesus, Wayne! You scared me! I thought you were a worker trying to get in here! They have sensors you know!” You say, still gripping onto him, not even paying attention to the clothing now piled on the floor. “Why don’t you knock first?”

“Why would I knock?” Wayne questions, “And why would a worker be trying to come in here when it says occupied? I thought we weren't doing illegal shit today, we got the money, don’t we?”

Though his questions make sense and have reasoning, you can’t help but remain a little flustered.

For a second, there’s silence between you two. Even if he wasn’t shoved in with you, Wayne didn’t even look down when he was first pulled into the stall with you, and you had completely forgotten you were next to being naked in front of him. You knew that the only thing protecting your dignity and saving you from embarrassment was a thin layer of orange mesh with tiny embroidered oranges. Wayne seemed to know that too.

“You look...pretty.” He says, leaning back against the wall behind him, “I like your oranges.” His awkwardness makes him cringe, but it makes you laugh instead. Wayne wasn’t a smooth talker, so his execution of his compliments hardly made way of what he actually wanted them to be. But he could hardly even focus, especially now.

“Thanks.” You twist around and accidentally brush up against him, “I like it a lot, what other sizes did you get?” You grab the bundle of hangers and hold each one up, looking at the slight difference in the sizing. Wayne had a habit of looking into you while he spoke, you always noticed. When he listened to you talk, and especially when he liked what you were saying, he would subconsciously lean forward, almost as if he was drawn to you.

In that habit, Wayne had forgotten about how close you two are and in leaning forward, ends up stumbling over you and knocking you directly into the wall in front of you. In an attempt to catch himself and not slam the both of you into the wall, his open hands fly to your hips and he quickly grabs onto the sides of your half covered ass.

There were many times where Wayne had touched you like that before, it’s no new news that you two have sex. But this time was different. This time, you guys knew you weren't alone and there were many clueless shoppers and staff around, and for that reason it felt off. Still, the proximity of both you and him closes in a second and by the way you're dressed, and the way he’s so close to you, holding you from behind.

“We should probably pay for this. It’s getting kind of stuffy in here anyways. How much you got anyways?” You turn your head over your shoulder, expecting him to move first, but he doesn't.

“Probably enough to buy this thing for you.” Wayne pinches an orange cream ribbon from the side and drops it back down, “Why oranges?”

“I saw it and it looked cute, does it not? You just said it was pretty.”

He looks at you with the same puppy eyes he always has on and gives a small smile of reassurance, moving his hands up from your hips to the sides of your stomach, slowly traveling up your body.

“You forget we’re kinda in the middle of the mall here?” A grin plays unto your lips and you grab his wrist to stop one of his hands from moving up to your chest.

Wayne lets out a breathy sigh that tickles your ear, and you start to feel his rough and calloused hand start to squeeze and massage your breast. “There’s no one around. Plus, the door’s locked from the outside.”

Pause. “What.”

He looks at you in confusion and stops all movement, tilting his head to the side so his fluffy brown hair spills onto his shoulder. “What?” He doesn’t get it.

“What do you mean the door’s locked from the outside?!“ You spin around and shove your hands against Wayne’s chest, easily moving him out of the way. You wiggle the door knob, and low and behold, “It’s locked!?!”

Wayne rubs his hair back confusingly, “Yeah? I just said that, didn't I?”

“Yeah, but I didn’t think you were serious! Did you lock it?”

“I didn't, no, but I saw a sign outside that had red marker over a piece of paper. Something about ‘do not enter’ and ‘stall is closed for maintenance and will not close.’ But it was the only one alone from all the others, and I’d be able to unlock it if need be.”

“Wayne! Do you realize that we’re both in here now?!” There was no point in arguing. On one hand, if you argue your way to a loud volume, you both would be found out and arrested for taking tags off of expensive merchandise. On the other, you would most likely rot there until something busted you out. The second option started to seem better than the first, judging by your circumstances. Plus, though anyone with half a brain could read the sign and understand it, but Wayne didn’t have half a brain. He just did what he wanted.

You flash your boyfriend an apologetic look, batting your lashes down and swaying your hips backwards to give yourself some room in the cramped stall. By the way he looks at you back, your heart aches a little for raising your voice.

“It’s not all bad, Wayne.” You touch his arm and smile, “It could be worse. Like, this could be a new changing room and the lock wouldn’t be rusted shut...and...it’d be harder to get out...?” You hide the fact you have no idea what you were saying, only trying to muster something out so Wayne would feel less horrible about himself. It was no use though, the same expression sat on his eyes and down turned lips. But he appreciates it nonetheless.

Wayne nods and looks back into your eyes. You flash him a smile before turning your back towards him, lifting your hair to the side and exposing your ribbon caged back to him. “Can you try and get this thing off? I can’t breathe very well and I’m trying to get the tag off.”

Wayne hesitates. “How’d you even get it on in the first place? I don’t even see a zipper.”

"These things don’t need a zipper. Just a pair of hands to untie it and get it on.”

He shrugs and starts to untie the piece, tugging at thin ribbons and cute lace embroidery, toying at the fabric like some cat batting around a yarn string. When it becomes clear that Wayne doesn’t know what he’s doing in the slightest, you turn around to face him and give him a disappointed look. But, in your attempt to do so, your top instantly falls to the ground, startling both you and Wayne.

“I-I had it.” Wayne chokes out, covering his eyes and desperately trying not to give into any thoughts to look at all the places he shouldn’t.

“It’s fine! Just let me—“ You bend down and try to pick up the top, accidentally bumping directly into Wayne, crashing right against his legs. When you try to stand up, Wayne moves forward to give you more room, but ends up throwing off your balance over all.

“Sorry—It’s just so cramped in here! Here, wait, go over there! No, over there—fine, ok I’ll go! Ugh! Wayne!“ You groan in frustration and finally, manage to stand up. Only, now you’re somehow closer than you were before, only centimeters apart to Wayne’s face, who’s now up against a wall, halfway down it.

His hands twitch as they lay on the smoothness of your thighs, giving into the slightest touch and only itching to have more. He quickly finds it in himself to pull you closer, bumping your exposed chest into his clothed one, not caring or even paying any mind to your nudity. He only curls his fingers of his unoccupied hand into your hair, reaching up and gently closing the gap between you.

You hadn’t realized before just how soothing Wayne’s kisses were. In fact, they were the only thing keeping you from freaking out, quite literally naked and full of anxiety that someone could walk in and see you both. But all fear washes out as soon as Wayne reminds you, yet again, to keep your attention on him.

It’s hard to focus on just him though, with people talking around you, the sound of metal hangers gliding across racks

He spoke slowly, “Can I?” asking for permission. With a head nod, you agree and maybe without thinking, you lean forward and kiss him again.

With no room to make any sound or talk after that, Wayne pulls you onto his chest, hoisting you up just enough so he can hold you with both arms. Even when his eyes are closed, he still knows the way to your body as if they were wide open. He begins to move his hand south, brushing his rough skin against your smooth body, tangling his digits in the spaces of the orange silk. You can feel his chest expand as a sign of his impatience, wasting no time to pry the fabric off your lower half.

You let him do all the work, since you have no room to, and feel as he undoes his own belt and shags it down just enough so the rough denim of his jeans hangs off his hips, enabling a window of his boxers to be seen. Even though you're too busy trying to stay quiet, the scene is all too familiar, you can practically see everything. Wayne hurriedly takes himself out, fixing his hold on you as he releases his cock out of it’s confinement, and wastes no time to press against you.

As you look down, the sight of his tip already soaked in precum makes your heart flutter. It’s just as hard and erect as you thought it’d be, seeing as the effects of your outfit must have worked like a charm.

“I uh...I thought of—” Wayne opens his lips and tries to say, his voice an level higher than a whisper.

“Shh!” You hush, already somehow winded, “Shut up.”

Wayne presses his lips together and nods, a bit stunned from your hostility. But there was no room to be nice, there was no room to do anything at all. Almost instantly, his big hands ride the saddle of your hips and he snaps back into motion.

“Hm!” You let out a small yelp as Wayne enters his way into you, pushing the lacy material of the orange underwear to the side, he uses the tip of his cock to part your legs open, his size stretching you just enough to send both of you over the edge. He waits for a second, just to catch his breath, and watches you as you adjust to his size. He’s always been a bit too big for a daily fuck, but you barley paid any attention to it. When you’ve caught your breath, you look up at Wayne and give him a nod, silently telling him that you’re ready for him to move. He nods back which moves the choppy bangs in front of his eyes to sway forward.

His pace is slow, at first, not wanting to hurt you but also a bit rushed, seeing as the public place isn’t the most convenient to share an intimate moment with. But seeing as you hadn’t planned it at all, you had little room to complain.

Even with what little room you have, you find yourself subtly grinding back on Wayne’s groin, not even thinking. The small movement makes him throb inside of you, an uncontrollable response. Before you two know it, you pull away and gasp for air, hot breaths meshing together as you try and catch what little oxygen the room has to offer. It’s stuffy, so it doesn’t help the rising temperature between you, and the heat emitting off your bare chest makes it worse.

Wayne watches as a string of saliva connects from his lips to yours and breaks instantly, effectively making your lips wetter and rosier than usual. The sight makes his heart pound. You barely register his expression before he moves again, rutting himself against you like a depraved animal.

Not wanting to make a sound, two hand covers your mouth as Wayne starts to thrust his hips into yours, hard and deeply. Wayne can’t move as much as he’d like, if he had the opportunity, he’d absolutely ravage you like he usually does, savoring each moment and taking it slow. Once he grabs hold of your hips and starts moving your body against his, the combination turns deadly.

You squeeze your eyes shut tight but Wayne refuses to look away. His icy brown eyes practically glued on your eyelids beg for you to open yours and just look at him.

Labored breathing works its way out of Wayne as you writhe under his touch, scraping your nails into his back, even with a shirt on, managing to make a few red marks that’ll sure to appear later. He didn’t mind, Wayne’s only concern was fucking you as quick as possible and then find a way to get out of the dressing room without being noticed. But how can he think clearly when all he can hear is the struggled, barley muffled noises coming from your mouth?

“Open your legs a little.” You can barley hear his voice, it’s so quiet. He must’ve actually listened. “Right there, just like that.”

It feels too good. Better than usual in fact, to the point where the idea of stopping or slowing down quickly fades out of the picture. All of Wayne’s lack of reason only clouds his head and encourages him to speed up his pace, using a firm hold on your chest with the crook of his arms to hoist you up and arch your back manually for him to get in a better angle. You never thought it was possible to be this overwhelmed with everything all at once. Jolting downwards more, you let out uncontrollable moans, just barely being muffled by the palm of your hand to attempt to conceal your location as best as you can. Still though, Wayne remains completely unbothered and continues to thrust into you, the sides of his length rutting against your walls as loud as he can possibly make it.

A bit of frustration takes control as you twist over your shoulder, giving him an annoyed expression as he looks at you with a heavy-lidded stare of confusion. It’s moments like these where you wished he had a bit more common sense than what he had by default.

“S-Slow down! I can’t keep up!” You groan out, shuffling back into him to try and bump your hips with his.

Wayne grips your hips closer, harder, which makes you moan out again, only louder, and encloses the distance between your mouths with his lips on yours. You struggle to find the right part of him to grab on, slapping your hands on his chest, arm, and finding his back that eventually satisfies as a place to hold on to. He, instead, finds the underside of your thigh. The feeling of his fingers pressing lightly into your sensitive skin makes the hair stand on your body, losing grip on his back, turns into frantic touching.The sting of his nails digging into your flesh makes your head spin and very quickly forget all sensibility, allowing him to speed up again.

You can only hear the creaking of the feeble, obviously run down condition of the stalls next to you, as well as a bit of tapping from the metal lock clanging together.

With every sharp thrust, Wayne hoists you up, shoving you against the wall in front of you. He doesn’t mean to, but it’s enough to send all sorts of vibrations of heat to your core, basically slamming arousal into you each time. Wayne stares at your hands clamped over your mouth, eyes full of tears from the heightened feeling inside your stomach. You can’t bear to look at him anymore in fear of cumming too early, to which he’s well aware of, yet he pushes you against the wall one last time, nearly tossing you off the edge.

”Y-You're making too much noise—” You tear your hands away from your mouth for a second, just to protest his roughness, but Wayne takes the chance and plants his pliant lips against yours. When his mouth meets yours, his tongue roughly licks down, making a wet plucking sound when he pulls away, only to repeat several times.

“Someone might hear us, just w-wait a second!” You clench down around his cock, locking your thighs around Wayne’s waist to try and get him to slow down. But it doesn’t help.

You feel yourself spiraling, head reeling, as Wayne hurries his hips against yours and pounds into you, over and over again, just rocking you back and forth as quietly as he can. But even he can’t think right now, so he doesn’t even count how many ‘accidental’ times he’s made a loud squeak or shuffled his shoes against the floor to get a better hold on you.

Your walls tighten and suddenly you’re seeing nothing but the surface of Wayne’s shoulder, biting down on the thin fabric of his t-shirt, “Oh fuck! Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck!” The taste of cotton laps over your taste buds, but even that isn’t enough to ignore the feeling of Wayne speeding up, now desperate to chase the high you both have worked so hard to finish.

He moans in pleasure and starts to pepper your bear shoulder in sporadic kisses, biting and marking down on your skin to silence himself just enough to last for a few more seconds. Just a few more.

Just a few more was all it takes before the pleasure finally collapses and so do you, right onto Wayne. He finally stops all movement and lets you ride out your orgasm, slowly pumping in and out of you to finish himself off as well. You want to cry, you want to curse, you want to scream his name but all you can do is sit as silently as you can on his arms, holding onto your mouth for dear life. Wayne huffs with his voice, raw with restraint and gruff with passion, watching your sad attempts at trying to keep it all together despite his cum filling every gap of your body up. “M-Mhm! Mh mh!” You let out a segmented sigh, your breath falling short on and dying half way. When Wayne pulls your body off of him, just enough for his cock to spring out of your insides, you can feel a bit of slick leak down the side of your trembling leg. You dare not make another noise.

You break away panting, maintaining eye contact with Wayne as he rubs his hands all over your body, almost apologetically for making so much noise. You can hardly see straight since all the blood in your body seemed to go directly to your head. For a second, there’s silence, a time to actually catch your breath without worrying someone is waiting outside for you. You glance up at Wayne, who’s gasping for air as much as you are, smiling, “Let’s never do that again.”

Wayne laughs a bit and bites his bottom lip. You can barely move from the pure ecstasy as he sets you down gently, legs suddenly losing their solid form and quickly turning into jelly. You cling onto him for stability and quietly look up at him again, to which he gives an understanding head nod.

Wayne goes to kiss you but suddenly gets interrupted by a knocking from outside.

“Excuse me?” A voice says, accompanied by the faint jingle of keys on a key ring.

“SHIT!” You mouth, profanity now spilling out of your lips faster than ever. A flicker of panic splashes across your face as the subtle sound of the door unlocking fills every gap and space in the small room. Wayne goes to turn around to hide but ends up bumping into the wall, cursing a bit as well before spinning back to you with his hand on his head.

“There’s a uh. Wall there. Just in case you didn’t know.” He whispers.

“I KNOW THERE’S A FUCKING WALL THERE JUST GIVE ME MY CLOTHES!” You demand with an open hand.

It doesn’t feel real, but just in the amount of time you have, you manage to throw on your jeans over your shifted orange underwear and shirt, stuffing the orange lingerie top from the ground into your regular bra. Fuck knows that you aren’t leaving this trapped hell without a free souvenir to take home.

Right when everything makes it way onto your body, you straighten your posture and turn to face the locked door, feeling all sorts of rushes of emotions. Fear, panic, pleasure, worry, relief, all pumping at an all time high.

“Looks like you two got locked in!” The voice laughs, key clicking into the jammed lock with a rusted, silver key. And just like that, light flows into the darkened room and nearly blinds you both. Just as the light pours in, the friendly face of a young worker does the same, her thin lips spreading across her high strung cheeks, happily, looking at two people with stray hairs flying all over the place and flushed faces.

“When my boss told me she saw two people come in here on the cameras, I didn’t believe it!” The worker laughs, clacking her keys back onto her belt, “The sign must’ve fell off or something. So sorry for the inconvenience, we’ll give you both a discount for any item you purchase today!” She bows her head apologetically, “Let’s get you out of here, I’m sure you’ve been waiting for a while now, huh?”

“R-Right. Sorry, we just...we lost our way a bit, but thank you for letting us out. I was convinced I was going to die in there.” You give a half hearted chuckle, just to appear like a normal, functional person.

“No worries at all! Let’s get you two rung up if you're both ready to check out?”

You nod and start walking out, Wayne following behind you, “More than ready.”

As you two follow the worker, you notice Wayne lag a little bit behind. You stop for a second to grab his hand, securing him in his rightful spot next to you, rather than behind. He gives you a smile, to which you both share. The moment was over for sure, and hopefully there isn’t another time that would ever happen like that again. You let out a sigh of relief and Wayne notices, leaning down to say something,

“Maybe we should do it out in public more often. That was fun. Don’tcha think?”

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pretty-little-mind33 · 21 days

Text

Call It What You Want

Tangerine x fem!reader

Summary: After accidentally killing your kidnappers, the twins—especially Tangerine—seem determined to keep you away from harm.

Genre: Fluff, hurt & comfort

Warnings: protiective!Tangerine, innocent!civilian!reader, kidnapping, swearing, mentions of injury and blood, canon violence, plot diverts from canon, No Ladybug—the other assassin is supposed to be Carver (since i felt the characterization would have been too off otherwise!)

Thanks for requesting! I hope you like this hehe <3 @kpopgirlbtssvt

So far, the mission was running smoothly.

Lemon and Tangerine had killed all the men in the warehouse and were now making their way out with the White Death's son. Approaching their car, Tangerine throws his bloodied poncho into the trunk as Lemon stuffs the son's passed out body in the backseat.

"Shit, bruv, I dropped my knife in the warehouse," Lemon suddenly whines with a grimace.

His brother sends him an annoyed look, "Fuckin' cry me a river will ya? It's just a knife."

Lemon narrows his eyes at Tangerine and slams the car door shut. He deadpans, "It's not just a knife. It's Willa. You'know she's my fav."

"Shouldn't have dropped 'er then, yeah?" Tangerine snaps.

Lemon ignores him and walks back into the warehouse. He's gone for a while and Tangerine wonders if perhaps he'd been hurt. Just as his annoyance turns to worry, he sees Lemon emerge from the warehouse, looking incredibly concerned.

"Tangerine, come here," Lemon calls him over and based on the seriousness of his voice, Tangerine reluctantly follows him. His nose scrunches as they walk around the dead bodies they are responsible for. Lemon pulls at a filthy white sheet that hangs in the corner and it falls to reveal a makeshift room with old, beaten, boxes.

However, Tangerine's blood runs cold when he sees you splayed across the mattress in the opposite corner.

Lemon sends him a look. "Heard 'er shift. I think she's asleep," he says.

Cautiously, they move closer and Tangerine hears the occasional quiet whimper escape your lips. He kneels beside you, brows furrowing heavily, as with a gentle hand he pulls on your shoulder so you shift from your side onto your back. Your arm falls limp over the mattress and your head rolls to face him, causing Tangerine to inhale sharply.

Your eyes are shut and your hair is messily splayed around and across your face. You're dressed in a pair of pajama shorts, worn out sneakers, and a tank top, the flimsy bedsheet the bastard that had done this to you had provided you with barely covers your bruised and exposed skin.

Tangerine's jaw clenches when he sees the fingerprints on your thighs and arms. He looks at Lemon, who shrugs his shoulders and then leans over you to take your wrist and check your pulse.

"Sleeping," he repeats.

"Drugged," Tangerine argues and runs a hand over his face. Part of him wants to leave you here. You aren't his responsibility. He has a job to finish and anyway, he'd already killed the men who took you—probably? Hopefully? Fuck. He glances at Lemon, who seems debating the same thing and then Lemon catches his eye, as usual, his brother reads his fucking mind.

"We have to take 'er," Lemon whispers, "She's innocent."

Tangerine looks at you again and his frown remains. Innocent. For all they know you could be the fucking evil mastermind behind it all. Maybe this was your plan all along and they're the fools who have fallen for the trick.

Only, his eyes soften when he watches your chest lift and fall a little harshly. You look so strangely delicate and it's making Tangerine lose his mind.

No, you couldn't be anything other than pure innocence.

Without another word, Tangerine shifts and hooks his arms under you. Your dead weight leans against his chest as the sheet falls from the curve of your foot and his hands tighten around you in fear you'll shiver from the sudden cold.

Lemon watches his brother for a moment, a small smirk tugging at his lips. As much as he wants to, he doesn't comment on the scene in front of him.

* * *

Your head feels like it's spinning. The man you learned is named Lemon is yapping your ear off as you squeeze through the train aisle. You almost bump into him as he struggles with the poor man they'd told you bumped his head, and then the second man who'd introduced himself as Tangerine almost bumps into you.

You squeal, almost tripping, but Tangerine grunts and wraps his arm around your stomach so you don't fall.

Quickly, as Lemon finds a booth and pushes the third man to lean against the window, Tangerine removes his arm and pretends like he didn't feel how badly you tensed under his touch. Raw anger simmers inside him at the mere idea of what your kidnappers had put you through.

You watch as Lemon disappears with the silver briefcase for a moment and you wrap Tangerine's checkered coat closer around you. It's cool in the train and your exposed thighs and arms prickle with goosebumps. You don't dare complain. Tangerine sits next to you and he sends you a look.

"Ya cold, luv?" he asks seriously.

You look up at him, eyes widened innocently, and hesitate before you nod. Tangerine hums, happy you're communicating in some way, and he looks around. He stands and disappears down the aisle.

Lemon obscures your view for a moment when he sits across from you and when Tangerine returns, he's holding a sweatshirt over his arm. He hands it to you without a word and when Lemon gives his brother a confused look. Tangerine rolls his eyes and says, "What? I nicked it for 'er. She's cold."

Lemon hides a smirk as he holds up his arm in surrender and doesn't say much more. You slowly let Tangerine's coat fall from your shoulders as you slip on the sweatshirt. It's large enough to cover up to your mid-thigh and you feel less uneasy.

"So, ya really don't remember what those men wanted with ya?" Lemon interrupts.

You shrink in your seat. You wish you could remember more of your kidnapping so you could tell them. When you came to, you were already in the Twins car and they'd informed you you had been drugged and most likely kidnapped. You couldn't remember why.

While the Twins had been nothing but kind to you, you still can't shake the feeling that they aren't the knights in shining armor you want them to be. You peer at Tangerine as he plucks a pack of snacks from the passing trolley. Without hesitation, he turns and hands them to you.

You sit up a little and look at the snacks, eyes round. Tangerine nods silently as if to say, "It's okay," and then turns his attention to his brother, his blue eyes sharp. "She said she doesn't remember. Will ya lay off her?" he snaps.

You open the snacks and eat them up quickly. You hiss as your split lip opens from your carelessness but you continue to eat anyway.

Lemon and Tangerine bicker again but you're too focused on the food in your palms to care. Lemon sends you a sympathetic look as Tangerine calms down and the third man, who is sitting in a booth across from you all, starts to stir.

* * *

"I am not leaving 'her alone with 'im!" Tangerine exclaims as he stares at Lemon like he's lost his mind. Lemon throws his hands up in the air and glares at his brother. "I don't trust 'im. If he's anything like his Daddy then he's bad fuckin' news," Tangerine reasons.

"So, what's your plan then? You gonna keep her safe by your side, hm? Someone took our case and I can guarantee they aren't gonna play nicely, bruv! She's a fuckin' liability, that's what she is!"

Lemon raises good points but Tangerine ignores him completely.

"She's our responsibility now, Lemon," he says sternly but he's distracted by the doors to the cabin sliding open and your frame slamming into his chest. Surprised, he tenses as your hands grasp helplessly at his suit and hide behind him. Lemon looks as puzzled as his brother when he sees how scared you look.

However, unlike Lemon, Tangerine is in a panic. He spins around and holds onto your shoulders. He leans down as you hyperventilate, his heart beating so loudly. "Hey, hey, luv, what happened? Are ya hurt? What's wrong? Tell me," he says. His large hands move up to cup your tear-stained cheeks as he tries to calm you down.

You make small gasping sounds and point to the now shut doors you just came from. "T-the man! H-he w-was poisoned! I saw the person in the costume prick him with something and now there's blood coming out of his eyes. I think he's dead!" you sound completely horrified and Tangerine can't help himself when he wraps you in his arms and holds you closer.

Lemon paces behind him, clearly alarmed that the white death's son was murdered under their care, but Tangerine is only focused on you.

"Hey, darlin', can you look at me," he whispers as he tries to ground you. "You're fine. Shh, you're okay now. You did the right thing running to us, hmm?" you nod, still clutching onto Tangerine. Lemon scoffs from behind you and his brother sends him a dark look. "She's staying with me," Tangerine says.

"Your funeral mate," Lemon says and unlocks his gun. He looks at you and his eyes soften for a moment before they land on Tangerine. "You've gone completely sweet for 'er," he says in a whisper, almost like he can't believe he's saying those words out loud, "be careful."

You look up at Tangerine and see his jaw clench for a moment. Something flickers in his eyes—denial perhaps—but he just ignores Lemon's warning and guides you back into the train compartment to make a plan.

* * *

Your head is throbbing as it hits the wall of the train. You hear ringing in your ears as Tangerine's shouts become hazy. You feel a hand curl around the hood of your sweatshirt as you're yanked up and thrown to the opposite side of the room again. You crash into the cupboards as foods from the shelves fall onto you.

"Fuckin' bastard," Tangerine seethes, recovering from a punch the man had landed in his stomach. He lunges and hits the man in the nose, the crack audible, as the man crumbles to the ground. Tangerine sees red as he straddles the man and punches him repeatedly. "Ya don't fuckin' touch 'er! Ya hear me? I see one fuckin' bruise from your fingerprints on her again and I'll break all your fuckin' bones!"

You struggle to stand, shards of glass stuck in your palms as you watch the scene with a scared expression. The man slams a glass onto Tangerine's head and taunts cruelly, "What's she to you, hm? One of your little bitches? Your reputation betrays you, Tangerine." You wince at this man's words and when he stares at you, your breath hitches.

"Huh, you one of his bitches, girl? A stunner like you shouldn't be involved with men like him, you know—but, I can see why he keeps you around, I mean you're—"

Tangerine interrupts him with a hard punch in the jaw and his sentence falls short. Without hesitation, Tangerine takes your wrist in his hand and speed-walks away from the scene. You stumble after him as he grunts in pain from the blows he'd taken. When he finds an empty bathroom, he pushes you inside as he crams into the small space.

Tangerine's hip is digging into the sink as he holds up your palm. "Shit, look at your hand," he mutters and then looks up at you more closely, "You aren't too hurt, are ya? I'm sorry, darlin'."

You stare at him, your adrenaline pumping, and blurt out the first thing you think of as you look at the cuts and bruises across his face, and at how disheveled and bloody his suit has become. "You look like shit," you say with concern, and with your other hand, you push some curls away from his forehead. Your fingers dance across his skin delicately, too worried for him to realize what exactly you're doing

Tangerine's eyebrows raise in surprise and he laughs. You pull your hand away and stare up at him, your wounds obvious from the blows that the other assassin had landed on you. However, he just smirks. "Atta girl," he whispers, and almost as if on instinct he moves to press his knuckles to your cheek. You feel the warmth spread across them.

Clearing his throat, he pulls his arm away and looks down to unlock his gun. "We gotta find Lemon and we need to get off this god-forsaken train—job be damned. I'm not putting you at risk anymore." You nod, wiping some blood from the corner of your mouth with your sleeve.

"You stay behind me and listen closely. If I say jump, you jump, understand?" he says and slides the door to the bathroom open.

* * *

Tangerine feels his eyes hang heavy as he tries to erase the memory of Lemon's dead body. His heart is pounding as he feels your hands clutch around his arm. He hadn't let you see Lemon, not fully, but you'd cried from the situation anyway (and in fear of his anger he assumes).

After all, he is furious.

"Fuckin' diesel bitch," he mutters, his gun pointed at the girl dressed in pink.

The young girl snarls and stares at him defiantly. She doesn't seem scared of him. However, as soon as the third assassin—the brown-haired man from earlier—enters, she screams. Tangerine senses you tense beside him and he quickly moves to shield you as the man points his gun at you and him.

Tangerine fires his gun sloppily and it hits the man in his neck. However, he's too slow to prevent the man's bullet from hitting you in the shoulder.

You shriek and the pain is excruciating as you fall to the ground. Tangerine spins around, catching you in time as he holds you close and applies pressure to your wound. He holds up your head as he looks into your teary eyes.

"Shit, fuck, fuck, hey–shh, you're okay," he promises, his voice strained. You're not trained for the pain and as much as Tangerine tries to prevent you from looking, your eyes move to your shoulder.

There's blood everywhere.

Tangerine can see that you're in shock as your eyelids flutter. He holds you up but he can't think as you lose consciousness. He wants to scream and he slams his hand onto the ground next to you, desperately holding you to him.

He needs to help you.

Somehow.

* * *

When you wake, you hear Tangerine's voice loud and clear— "You told me you weren't wearing yer fuckin' vest!" he snaps, pacing around the small motel room. Your eyelids flutter and you see Lemon—Lemon!— sitting on the second queen bed, his head in his hands. Tangerine's pendant still hangs from his neck.

"Will ya stop screaming at me!?" Lemon hisses, pinching his nose.

"I though' ya'd died!!"

From where you lay you can see how furious Tangerine looks. His suit is still bloody and he looks as disheveled as he did on the train. You can hear how pained he sounds and your heart sinks.

Lemon is silent for a moment and then he stands. Without any smart comment or argument, he walks over to his brother and wraps his arm around Tangerine's shoulders. Instantly, Tangerine's body seems to melt into Lemon and you hear a choked sob as they hug—you aren't entirely sure who it's from.

After a moment, Lemon pulls away first but puts his hand on the back of Tangerine's nape. "I see ya managed to keep 'er safe," he says, amusement in his voice as he turns to you and you shut your eyes so they'll think you're still asleep.

"Barely," Tangerine's voice is strained, "She's hurt. I tried'a stitch her up as best I could but I ain't no fuckin' doctor. She was passed out the entire time—hope she didn't feel a thing."

You hadn't.

"You care about 'er," Lemon states and you hold your breath.

"I don't," Tangerine insists quickly. "She's just a responsibility. Nothin' more, nothin' less."

Your chest tightens at his words and you feel very stupid. Why would he care more than that? You're still strangers. You don't even know his favorite color. All you know is that you care.

He'd saved you. He was your savior. How could you move on and pretend he wasn't? How could you move on and just not see him anymore?

Lemon sighs sadly, "Why is it so hard for you to admit you care about someone?"

"Because everything I care about dies. Gone. Just like that, Lemon," you hear Tangerine snap his fingers and you flinch, "I don' want 'er to die because of me. Because I cared too much to let her go and live a normal fuckin' life!"

You bite down on your lip—hard.

"I–fuck, you don't understand Lemon," Tangerine says and you wish you could open your eyes to see him. You want to see him so badly but you can't so you stay still, listening in. "I almost lost you and you're a trained assassin! She's just a girl. I can't protect her. I couldn't even protect her tonight."

You want to tell him that he's wrong. He can! He had! Without him, you'd still be kidnapped or worse, dead.

"Mate, you're too hard on yourself," Lemon reasons.

"No. I'm not. I can't fuck up. Fuckin' up means death," Tangerine says sternly, his tone ending the conversation.

You hear faint footsteps and then the mattress dips as someone's nimble fingers find your hairline and push away some stray hairs. Is it weird that you recognize his touch already? You stir unconsciously and shift onto your back, your eyes opening.

You're unaware that as they flutter, all Tangerine is picturing as his blue ones staring back at you is the way you looked when they'd found you—hair messy and spilled across the dirty mattress, skin bruised and bloody. His stomach churns and he feels sick.

"Hi, darlin'," he mutters, and then his fingers, slow and deliberate, move to pull down the blanket so he can access your bound shoulder. You tilt your head and wince when you see the blood seeping through the plaster.

"May I?" Tangerine asks as his hand hovers over your shoulder. You nod, staring up at him with widened eyes as he checks over your wound.

As he works, you're overwhelmed and you have to look away. When you do, your eyes fall on Lemon. "Lemon," you say, "you're alive!"

Lemon cracks a smile and runs a hand over his face, "I am. Were ya sad, bird?"

It's meant to be teasing but you nod instantly and Lemon's eyebrows crease. He looks at Tangerine, who stands up and pulls the covers over you again. "She's a sweet bird, ain't she?" Lemon says as he smiles fondly. Tangerine nods and moves some hair behind his ear as the strands fall messily.

"Yeah," is all he answers and then he tells you, "Rest up now, luv. Your stitches are solid and you need sleep. It's been a long day." You wonder if he knows you'd overheard his conversation with Lemon or if he's blissfully unaware. You try and sit up but Tangerine scowls, "Hey, now, none of that," he reprimands.

"Don't leave me," you say seriously and Tangerine's eyes round.

"Pardon?"

"I don't want to be alone—" you whisper and settle into the pillows again, looking up at him.

"Lemon and I will just be over," Tangerine starts to explain but you reach out and grasp his wrist. You stare up at him silently and Lemon chuckles.

"Think she wants ya to sleep with 'er," he says and Tangerine's cheeks turn pink at the double meaning. He sends Lemon a glare but sits back down beside you. He lets you hold onto his wrist as he thinks of a plan.

You wonder if asking him to lay next to you is too much. You would understand if he refuses.

"I'm gonna clean up a little," Tangerine finally says, "and then Lemon can take the other bed and I'll—I'll sit here, on the floor, and hold your hand so you can sleep?"

His voice has a slight tremble you wonder if he's suppressing, and you can't help but wish he'd just hold you.

"You'll be uncomfortable," you try persuading him as he stands and his wrist slips from your hand.

"I want to keep watch tonight anyways," Tangerine says and smiles. It isn't a smirk—no it's a real smile. You don't argue as you nod.

Your arm dangles from the bed as you try and stay awake long enough to know Tangerine will actually hold your hand. You feel your body slip in and out of sleep as you catch only fragments of Tangerine's conversation with Lemon through the open bathroom door.

"We'll call Billy tomorrow morning and she can call 'er family—tell'em she's safe."

"Ya know, ya could just sleep in the bed—next to her—it's really not that odd,"

"Shut up,"

You're so close to sleep your eyelids feel so heavy that when you hear quiet shuffling near your ear, you can't even open your eyes. Your hand twitches and a soft sound escapes your lips when you feel Tangerine's fingers interlock with yours.

"I'm here," he whispers, the sound so quiet if you weren't so close to him you'd miss it. You hear the sound of his head hitting the bedside table and with an exhausted wince, you shift closer, your hand squeezing his.

"Thank you f-for everything," you manage to mumble, your eyes remaining shut. You aren't sure your thanks escaped your lips audibly because he doesn't answer. You slip into sleep, unaware of Tangerine's mind racing as his hand remains in yours.

Don't thank me, he thinks, please.

His drowsy eyes are trained on the motel door as Lemon washes up in the bathroom. He refuses to shut them. While his back is already aching from sitting on the floor and his arm is tired from being in such an awkward position to hold your hand, he doesn't move.

Instead, he listens to your calm breathing as you sleep. It's so different from when he'd found you—you'd been so scared and, even drugged, your body had been on edge.

Now, you sound so calm and secure and as silly as it sounds, Tangerine's chest tightens. As long as he can help it he'll make sure you're never that scared and vulnerable again.

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dailyrothko · 3 months

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WASHINGTON DC - The Phillips Collection presents an unprecedented reinstallation of its renowned Rothko Room , providing guests the rare opportunity to experience new works in the space. For the first time in over 20 years, three of the four original Mark Rothko paintings installed in the Rothko Room are on loan. In their place, the Phillips is showing three other Rothko paintings on special loan from the collections of Kate Rothko Prizel and Christopher Rothko, the artist's children.

Three classic abstract paintings by Rothko from the 1950s— Untitled (Yellow, Pink, Yellow on Light Pink) (1955), No. 14 (1951) , and No. 12 (1951) —are temporarily taking the place of three paintings acquired by museum founder Duncan Phillips— Orange and Red on Red (1957), Green and Tangerine on Red (1956), and Ocher and Red on Red (1954). Concurrently, the Phillips Rothko paintings are on view at the Fondation Louis Vuitton in Paris for its major Mark Rothko retrospective from October 18, 2023, through April 2, 2024, exhibited in a room that emulates the chapel-like quality of the Phillips Rothko Room .

I'm surprised the Yellow Pink (not pictured) didn't go to Paris, but then who knows, it was a huge undertaking in terms of logistics. Great painting though that you can see if you are in DC.

#mark rothko #markrothko #rothko #daily rothko #dailyrothko #abstract expressionism #modern art #abstraction #colorfield #ab ex #colorfield painting #mid century

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hamsterclaw · 7 months

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Fic Library: Yoongi (Pt 1)

My ult bias, it makes sense that there were too many to fit into one list. All of these authors capture the essence of my favourite tsundere king, check these stories out and show them some love.

Pause by @whatifyoulivelikethat. Music producer MYG x reader, domestic abuse. The first time I ever slid into an author's DMs was after I read this, to let them know how much I loved this story. It's unexpected, and profoundly beautiful, and re-reading it now takes me back to where I was when I first read it.

Like Butter by @bonvoyagenoona. Photographers MYG x reader, director KNJ x reader. Set in the setting of a magazine production team, and featuring a very sexy scene with our fave maknae and a scheming Park Jimin.

Countermelody by @bonvoyagenoona. Producer MYG x shopgirl/musician reader. A gorgeously rendered enemies to lovers story that's as much about life, love, new starts, self belief as it is about Min Yoongi and his beanie. IYKYK.

Moonlit throne by @hobidreams.Joseon king Yoongi x reader, historical AU. The seminal Joseon dynasty story told in a non-linear timeline with a perfectly characterised Yoongi and incredible attention to detail.

Three Tangerines by @kithtaehyung. Fuckboy Yoongi x f! reader, brother's best friend AU. 3tan makes it onto almost every fic rec list I've seen, and deservedly so - the dialogue slaps, the writing's sharp and this Yoongi's irresistible.

Bet on it by @minisugakoobies. Quizzers Yoongi x reader, featuring a super competitive reader and Yoongi with a blonde undercut. Hot, fun and hilarious.

Perpetual Datejust by @jiminrings. Model Yoongi x manager reader. A very sweet, romantic read, with a devoted reader and a healthy dose of angst.

Sodium Vapor by @miscelunaaa. Yoongi x f! reader. An atmospheric, wistful read about a chance meeting that also has Em's signature raw honesty.

Man of the year by @raplinesmoon. Single dad Yoongi x gn reader. A sweet, heartwarming read, and Yoongi's relationship with his daughter is adorable.

Look down on me like that by @here2bbtstrash. Co-workers Yoongi x reader, enemies to lovers. There's nothing better than Yoongi being an asshole, and he's written so perfectly here, as are reader and cute and endearing babystarcandy JK.

Teardrop by @hesperantha. Yoongi x reader, road trip AU. I read sometimes just for the pleasure of how a writer puts words to paper, and this is one of those stories - there are so many truths woven into the words, subtle and beautiful.

Moving day (Explicit) by @here2bbtstrash. Yoongi x reader, domestic AU. Sweet, sexy smut involving Yoongi tying up his hair. I repeat, Yoongi tying up his hair. The visual still gives me chills.

Proof by @illneverrecover. Yoongi x reader, strangers to lovers. A confident reader approaches an equally confident, sexy Yoongi with the added bonus of Joon and Jin as supportive besties.

Quiet Kitten by @thatlongspringnight. Professor Yoongi x college student reader - a smutty read with a fiercely sexy, stern Professor Min.

Straight Shooter MYG x reader, cyberpunk AU by @snackhobi. A perfectly characterised Yoongi, a dystopian futuristic setting and a subtle and gorgeous love story that I've read and re-read more times than I can say. The story that pulled me into BTS fanfic that I still have so much love for now.

Punch Drunk MYG x reader, boxer AU by @joonbird. From memory there's an open ending but that hasn't stopped me from re-reading. A troubled Yoongi's depicted so beautifully here.

Greedy MYG x reader, mafia AU by @xjoonchildx. Ana knows how much I love this - this Yoongi breaks my heart every time and I love how the relationship develops between him and reader.

Close Call by @xjoonchildx - a follow up to Greedy that's just as stunning as the OG story. I can't tell you how much I love this. Yoongi's a provider, and he takes care of his own, and there's nothing sexier.

All the wrong places by @mrworldwideshoulders. Yoongi x reader, strangers to lovers, in progress. An intriguingly irritable Yoongi covers the tab for reader at a bar.

Interlude: Sundown by @eoieopda. Part of the Darksided series, featuring Yoongi x reader in an established relationship. Hot, smutty, intimate goodness.

Angel by @sailoryooons. Mafia Yoongi x sex worker reader. I started reading this and couldn't stop - the writing's sharp and riveting and the pacing is perfect. A sexy, smutty, captivating read with a sexy, dangerous Yoongi.

Part 2

#fic rec: yoongi #fic recs list #min yoongi fic

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tokkiwrites · 7 months

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CARE FOR SOME COOKiES?

ㅡㅡ in which tangerine has had a not so healthy obsession for the girl next door for a while now & he finally gets what he wants.

TW: smut, mean (kind of) dom tangerine, sub reader, degradation, bdsm themes, dumbification of reader, unprotected sex (p in v) + more. just filthy filthy smut :p

the way her soft locks fell onto her round shoulders, covering her pretty neck. the way she always sheepishly tucked a piece behind her ear every time she saw him. it wasn't hard to see that he was long gone now.

the small crush has turned into something more. he hates it because he'd rather not want to fantasize about her all night long, but the thin walls provide him with utmost sounds when she touches herself late at night. it's not his fault she is so pretty and delicate, oblivious even to how she makes his heart beat so fast and how quickly he gets hard only at the sight of her.

he is taken out of his deep thinking state when the sound of someone knocking on his door causes him to jolt out of his seat.

"fuckin' hell, mate. who is it at this hour..?"

he rubs the bridge of his nose before opening the front door, ready to tear through whoever thought it was a good idea to bother him at 9pm on a Thursday night.

"the fuck ya wan-" he stops before he could finish his sentence, as behind the door was his dream come true of a woman. the smell of warm brown sugar and her jasmine perfume mix in the air, invading his lungs.

"hi, neighbor! care for some cookies?" she lets out the cutest giggle ever known to man, and tangerine feels like he could eat her then and there. she was dressed in a floral pink dress that reached her mid thigh, her hair in two messy pigtails, and splotches of flower scattered on her face and the top of the dress.

he looks at her up and down, quirking his eyebrows up before smiling and finally saying something. he was so lost at the sight of her. and he wasn't the only one in that position. y/n could barely mutter the words when she first saw him, only in a pair of dark sweatpants. no shirt, no nothing. just his perfectly messy curly hair and his way too good-looking mustache.

"hey, luv." tangerine tries to play his usual, confident and cocky self, which works because as soon as those words left his mouth y/n's legs felt like jelly, she swears her stomach just did a backflip.

"ya baked cookies, huh?" he teases.

"i mean...i tried! promise i didn't poison them!" she tilts her head up, trying to hand him the plate full warm strawberry crumble cookies.

"thanks, luv. care for a cup of tea? i think it'll go perfectly with your cookies."

she could die right now, cheeks oh so red, much like the strawberry jam in those cookies.

"that'd be nice-- I'd like that." she hums, nodding her head in agreement as tangerine motions her to enter his apartment.

it smelled so much like him. It felt like a big warm embrace, much like the ones she was fantasizing about all those nights she couldn't keep quiet.

" It's so pretty in here!"

" yeah, 's my mates work, Lemon. He has a keen eye for...decor, i suppose."

another giggle slips through her rosy and round lips. it feels like someone punched him in the stomach. and head. and heart. and gave him a magic potion because the effect this girl had on him was truly incomprehensible.

"uh- why don't ya sit down, darlin', yeah? and ill make us both some tea."

"sounds great!" she scurried into the nearest armchair, settling the plate of cookies on the coffee table right in front of her.

after some moments pass the tall bloke returns with two mugs filled with warm tea. as he places them down on the table he sits down opposite of y/n, his eyes never leaving her thighs, barely covered by that dress.

"so-" he makes a pause before smiling up at her "why'd you bring me the cookies?"

y/n smiles shyly before finally blurting out her thoughts.

"you always seem so grumpy, especially when you come home from work. and you seemed lonely... n i just wanted to sweeten up your week just a little bit."

someone better give this man an award for self control, because it takes so much will power for him to not just ravage the adorable bundle in front of him.

nonetheless, he leans his elbows on his knees and rests his chin on the knuckles of his hands. "oh?"

"that so?" he asks, a little chuckle after that.

"yeah...please dont get mad that i called you grumpy! and implying that you have no friends! its not what i meant, i just-"

"i know, luv, its fine. thank you for thinking about me. but you don't have to fill that pretty little head of yours with worries, yeah?"

that's it, she might as well let her heart jump out of her chest and run a marathon, because the way her heartbeat was increasing every second wasn't normal.

"can you at least try the cookies..?"

"yeah, darlin'." he smiles before reaching and grabbing one of the small cookies. heart shaped? god, even the cookies she makes are just as adorable. he bites in and his tastebuds are immediately flooded with the taste of strawberries, his eyes widening in response.

"a-are they bad?" y/n asks, anxiously

bad? that small bite tasted like heaven. he swears this girl is some kind of love witch.

"god, y/n. are you kidding? these are bloody amazing." after that, he started stuffing his face with more cookies, crumbs getting caught in his mustache.

"I'm so happy you like them..." her heart skips a beat, as she sips from her tea, so in trance that she manages to slip the cup through her fingers, splattering the tea all over herself and tangerines leather armchair.

"oh my god!" she yelps, embarrassed of herself, blood rushing to her face

" ya okay, luv?" tangerine worried, gets up from his place, grabbing a rag and quickly leaning in front of y/n "wasn't too hot, yeah? didn't burn yourself?"

"m fine, just embarrassed.." she puffs out her cheeks "even ruined your chiar."

"hey, darlin, don't worry, its leather, one wipe with water and its okay, yeah?

he reaches in and stars wiping her wet things with the rag, his rough fingers brushing agains her blushed skin. as he reached her inner thighs, he looks her dead in the eyes, only to find a flustered y/n looking at him with those doe eyes of hers that drive him mad.

without even thinking he presses his other hand onto her thighs, pulling himself up and hovering over her, his hands now gripping the arm rests of the chair.

how much he's dreamed of this, to see her all red and flushed under him, unable to say anything.

"y'okay, doll?" he smirks rather darkly, his face inching closer to hers.

she bites the inside of her cheeks, nodding as she couldn't believe what was happening. was she dreaming? was she imagining things? she caught herself off guard as she whispered bashfully "you can kiss me.."

"what?"

her eyes widened as she heard what she said, whole body now cemented in place by embarrassment.

"n-nothing, i-"

"do you really want me to, luv?"

she chokes on her breath, a timid yes slipping past her lips.

"i wanna hear ya say it, doll. what do you want me to do, huh?"

"want you to k-iss me." she couldn't believe herself.

this was it, the moment tangerine has been waiting for months. he has her now, and it'll take certainly more than a kiss to satiate his deep hunger for her.

"oh, luv. I'm so thankful you asked me to. i didn't know how much i could hold myself back."

he licks his lips, scanning her again, all stone still and flustered under him.

"when I saw you...the way you look right now. did it on purpose? huh? wanted to get a reaction out of me?"

she breathes heavily, before nodding her head, the hem of her wet dress twirling between her fingers.

"my sweet girl. you've no idea how little you need to do just to get me goin'."

"i d-do..?"

"you don't seem to understand, luv. you're deep inside my skin, my veins, my bones. you're everything my soul has yearned for all this time. since the moment i saw you."

he growls before finally leaning down and kissing her with an insatiable thirst. grabbing her by the hips he swiftly changes their position, placing y/n atop of his lap.

the feeling of his calloused palms all over her skin was indescribable, it was just like those many dreams she had of him. after a few more minutes tangerine pulls out of the kiss, a string of saliva connecting their lips.

he smirks, tracing y/n's skin with his fingers before speaking up.

"you wanna keep goin', love? want me to stop?"

"no! p-lease don't..."

"as you wish, doll. promise ill be gentle, yeah?"

he's interrupted by y/n's soft voice "please, don't.."

she gulps before finally continuing "don't be gentle...w-ant you to use me. p-lease?"

he scoffed, feeling himself getting harder and harder "that so? wanna be my little abuse doll?"

"y-yes.."

"y'know, y/n, never thought you'd be like this. i mean, you look so innocent and bubbly. but i guess..." he trails off before wrapping his large hand around her throat, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear "-thats just a mask, yeah? you're actually a dumb pup who wants to be used, no."

y/n whimpers, eagerly nodding her head and leaning into tangerines touch. "y-es" she manages to choke out, before she feels a strong tug on one of her pigtails, pulling her to the floor, kneeling at tangerines feet.

"then get to it, doll." he smirks before motioning y/n closer to his crotch. "c'mon, dont make me ask twice."

she places her palms at the hem of his pants, before pulling them down alongside his boxers. she jumped slightly as she saw what was expecting her. she couldn't believe her eyes, how is she going to fit all that in?

"what's wrong, luv?" he asks almost on a mocking tone.

"t-too big."

"you'll manage." he pats her head before tugging at her hair again. she whimpers at the gesture before leaning in closer. looking up as if asking for approval, she wraps her lips around the tip of his thick shaft.

"fuckin hell-" he bites his lower lip as he simultaneously pushes y/n's head further down, making her whine on it "yeah, just like that. c'mon darlin..." his head falls back, hips buckling up into a steady thrust, the only sounds filling the room being tangerines groans and y/n's soft moans.

the few minutes that flew by felt like more to y/n, her jaw wincing in pain from the size of tangeries shaft. even so, it fit perfectly in her mouth, he thought -- oh, how much he dreamed of this moment, having her like this, on her knees ready to take him. his mind went hazy as he felt his orgasm approaching. grabbing y/n by the back of her head, he pushed in further, thrusting one final time before finally releasing himself in her warm mouth.

after coming down from his high, he looked back down at y/n. "fuck." he muttered as he felt himself harden again at the sight: her rosy cheeks tainted by tears, lips swollen, semen and drool covering them and her chin.

"you're so pretty like this, luv. so pretty with your mouth full" he chuckles before swiftly picking her up and setting her on the armchair, tangerine towering above.

"did i do good..?" she flutters her eyelashes, averting the man's gaze. he smirks, leaning down to trail his lips along her neck up to her ear. "so good, doll." his rough palm settles on y/n's tigh, slowly inching it closer to the hem of the panties she was wearing.

"y'okay, luv? you wanna continue?" he stops himself for a little "sure you wanna do this?"

there was a short pause before she finally spoke, "Please." he furrows his brows before smiling cunningly. "Please what, darlin?"

"Please...need you in me-" she whimpers, rubbing her blushed thighs together. he scoffed before finally ripping off her white panties clean off, pulling her down so her head was almost on the seat cushion. "All right, doll."

his fingers danced around her thighs before finally reaching her bud, glistening from how wet she was. he glides his fingers down her lips, letting out a low growl. "fuck, doll, you're so so wet. for me, yeah? my pretty fuck toy..."

"j-just for you, tan..." she leans into his touch, prompting him to plunge his digits into her warmth. she moans, a shiver running down her spine. his hand stars to move slowly -- one finger, then two...the third brought her to a haze, she'd never felt so good, let alone from just someone's fingers.

"there...think ya ready, luv?" he asks, positioning himself in front of her entrance. a soft "yes" left her lips before he pushed in, groaning from the tightness. y/n wraps her legs around his waist and digs her fingers into the leather of the armchair.

"f-fuck, doll-" he moans, indulging further into her, his lips wrapping around her neck and palms roaming her breasts. after a few strokes, he grabs her ankles, pulling her down fully on her back, legs now on both sides of his head.

she sobs, his large shaft hitting so deep inside of her it made her see stars. "o-oh my god-" she whimpers as tangerine becomes more erratic and brutal, plunging into her aggressively.

one hand was wrapped around y/n's ankle and the other rapidly around her throat, making her gasp, pleasure clouding her already blurred mind.

after some more minutes of tangerine ruthlessly using y/n as he pleased, she was reduced to nothing but a drooling, incoherent mess, just as he always imagined.

"in m-me-" she mewls "i want y-ou to finish-- in me.."

tangerine was feeling himself getting closer to reaching his orgasm, both hands now gripping tightly on y/n's plushy thighs. "i want you to cum on my cock, doll." he grunts "c'mon- for me."

her legs twitched, whole body going limp as she finally finished, her walls tightening around his winching member, causing tangerine to release, painting her inner walls with white ribbons.

they both pant, none of them moving a muscle. after a couple of minutes tangerine pulls out, making y/n gasp at the emptiness. "filled you up so good, eh luv?"

a bright red blush creeps on her stained cheeks, as she tries to close her legs but to no avail. "think you dislocated my legs, actually." she lets out a gentle giggle as tangerine picks her up from the armchair.

"Let's get ya cleaned up, darlin, then we can finally eat those cookies."

⁽⁽ଘ( ˊᵕˋ )ଓ⁾⁾‎ 토끼's NOTE : sorry for any grammatical errors its also my first time posting here AAAAAA !!! this has 2585 words. hope u guys liked it cuz it made me feel some type of way lmao

#aaron taylor johnson #atj x reader #aaron taylor johnson x reader #aaron teaylor johnson smut #atj oneshot #tangerine bullet train #tangerine x reader #tangerine x you

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nocturnest · 25 days

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Omg imagine a very innocent, civilian Y/n being on the Bullet Train, in Japan with her friends for a girls’ trip. So y/n and her friends are on the train when all the craziness happens with the train-full of assassins. When the other civilians start clearing out of the train out of fear (because there are assassins running all over the place), Y/n is tipsy and doesn’t notice the commotion, and her “friends” just leave her there to flee the train (not the best friends 😬) so when Tangerine (who doesn’t die!!) and Lemon come running by, they see a very tipsy Y/n sitting there and they’re like, “What’re you doing here??” and she just giggles which has them like, “…” She flirts with Tangerine (lmao) as he takes care of her and saves her life, and once she realizes the danger she’s actually in, the poor girl is terrified! Also when they’re all safe, Tangerine and Lemon would be so angry that her friends all just left her there

@kpopgirlbtssvt love this idea! you have the best requests! i had such fun writing this - it's much longer than i originally planned but i wanted to do it justice! i hope i succeeded! 🥺❤️

The bullet train hurtled through the Japanese countryside, the rhythmic click-clack of the tracks beneath you providing a soothing backdrop to the excited chatter of your friends. The anticipation of your girls' trip to Japan had filled you with a bubbling sense of adventure, and as you settled into your seat, you couldn't wait to explore everything the country had to offer.

The journey started on a high note, with laughter and animated conversation flowing freely as you and your three other friends shared stories and sipped on cocktails. Sure, your friend Rebecca went on and on about her rich husband, his job, and all of their fancy cars. And sure, Cara kept interrupting everyone with her latest drama about her boyfriend, but overall, you were having a great time. The atmosphere was electric, and you found yourself getting caught up in the infectious excitement of the moment. You might have been a bit tipsy, but you thought that even you deserved a break sometimes, and besides, you were around friends who you could trust. They would look out for you, or so you thought.

You were happy to have taken time off from work to come on this trip. You rarely took vacations even though you loved traveling. Perhaps it was because you didn't usually have anyone to spend time with. And sure, you had people you could consider your friends, but sometimes you wished that you could discuss things other than clothing, men, and gossip. You wanted to talk about the latest books you were reading and the movie you had just seen the other day. But, you couldnt' change your friends. Admittedly, they had been there for you. Cara had been there for you when you had first gotten drunk, and Elise practically wheeled you to her hairdresser after you got a bad haircut.

When your friends' conversations started to lull, you began observing the train carriage. You had noticed a blonde man in a bucket hat walk in and out of the carriage more times than you would have liked because he was quite frankly making you dizzy from all of his movement. The first time you noticed him, though, he was carrying a briefcase with some kind of sticker on the handle. Cara stopped mid-way in her sentence while she was discussing a celebrity's latest affair to side-eye the blonde man, who seemed to be muttering to himself about some guy named Barry.

Your heart nearly jumped out of your chest when a tall man in a blue suit caught your eye as he made his way through the carriage. His presence was commanding, his strides purposeful as he navigated through the crowded aisles. His brunette hair was neatly styled with gel, and his features exuded an air of confidence. He wore gold rings on his fingers, which he twisted with poorly concealed frustration.

Your friends, ever perceptive to your reactions, quickly noticed your awestruck expression and exchanged knowing glances. Rebecca nudged you with her elbow, a mischievous grin playing on her lips. "Looks like someone's got a crush," she teased, eliciting giggles from the others.

Heat rushed to your cheeks as you attempted to deflect their teasing, but it was no use. Elise joined in with a playful smirk, "Oh, I see how it is. Falling for the mysterious stranger, are we?"

Before you could respond, the man approached your group, his eyes scanning the carriage with a determined expression. You felt a flutter of nerves in your stomach as he drew nearer, his piercing gaze meeting yours briefly before he addressed the group.

"Excuse me, ladies. Have any of you seen a man with a silver briefcase running through here? " he asked politely, his voice smooth and reassuring.

Your heart skipped a beat as you struggled to form a coherent response. He was British, and all your friends knew how you felt about British men. Rebecca was quick to speak up, her tone teasing. "Why, are you looking for a secret agent or something?"

The man chuckled lightly, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Something like that," he replied with a cryptic smile.

You managed to regain your composure long enough to point him in the direction he needed to go, "I believe a blonde man in a bucket hat had it. He went that way."

He looks at you with gratitude yet frustration and something else that you can't quite decipher, "Thank you, love."

Then, he stalks away, muttering, "That fucking bastard."

Your friends exchanged amused looks once more, but you couldn't help but feel a pang of disappointment as he walked away. You felt as if there was something special about the mysterious stranger who had captured your attention. Little did you know that things were about to get a whole lot messier.

It started with the snake. You thought you were hallucinating when you saw it and realized that maybe you had had too much to drink. But no, your friends saw it too.

A hushed whisper had rippled through the carriage as passengers exchanged worried glances, and you had felt a chill run down your spine. Something was wrong, terribly wrong.

Then, you saw it – a snake slithering its way through the crowd, its presence sending a wave of panic through the carriage. You blinked in disbelief, wondering if you were imagining things, but the terrified screams of your fellow passengers confirmed that the danger was all too real.

Amidst the chaos, you caught sight of your friends, their faces pale with fear as they struggled to make sense of the situation. Panic set in as the snake moved closer, its venomous gaze fixed on its prey.

Suddenly, a piercing scream shattered the air, and you turned to see a passenger clutching their face in agony, blood streaming from their eyes. The realization hit you like a ton of bricks – the snake was poisonous, and its venom was deadly.

In a frenzy of panic, you lost sight of your friends. Where had they gone? They had been right here? Apparently, your friends had made a split-second decision, abandoning each other to get off the train and save themselves. In disbelief, you observed their empty seats and attempted to stand only to feel a spell of dizziness, so you sat back down. You could only hope that the snake wouldn't come across you as its next victim.

Your friends and the snake slithered away the carriage was now empty, and so, the only thing you could think to do was to drink some more and fall into a deep sleep, hopeful that you would wake up in Kyoto.

This mission was unraveling more and more by the second. Tangerine had found Lemon unconscious, knocked out by some kind of drug. Tangerine had managed to wake him up but not without getting a slap to the face.

Now, Lemon was going on and on about a Diesel who had managed to shoot him in the chest. Luckily, Lemon had his bulletproof vest on, contrary to denying it previously. Never had Tangerine been so thankful for Lemon's antics.

Now, he and Lemon were walking down the aisles of the train carriages, trying to locate this fucking Diesel and the blonde muppet in a hat who stole their case with ferocity and a rapidly diminishing sense of hope.

Tangerine was of a mind to get off the train with Lemon and say fuck it, but that would mean not finishing the job, which would have been a first for them. Then again, Tangerine did quite fancy keeping all of his limbs and was not particularly eager to encounter the infamous White Death.

While Lemon went on about the Oscar-worthy performance of the Diesel he had encountered, Tangerine heard his phone buzzing and responds, putting it on speaker. They're absolutely fucking paranoid, this lot. Lemon looks at him expectantly.

"You have been lying to me, my friend."

It's the White Death. Tangerine rolls his eyes, "Well, cat’s out of the bag now, innit?"

"You were responsible for keeping my son safe. For keeping my money safe."

"You know, I-I don’t know a thing or two about being a parent, but you know what I would do, being that it’s your son and your money?"

Lemon looks at him with alarm and shakes his head, whispering, "Don't-"

Tangerine continues, "I’d stop crying about your dead wife, get off your fucking lazy ass, come here and finish the job yourself. But as we’re having a bit of a heart-to-heart, got a couple things to tell ya. Your son’s a complete bell end and fuckin’ deserves to be bleeding out of his eye sockets. And as for your case, I haven’t seen it since Tokyo. And I hope someone’s fuckin’ found it, put it all on red and having a fuckin’ wonderful time."

As calmly as before, the White Death responds, "I will meet you at Kyoto station."

Tangerine smiles sarcastically, "Oh, how wonderful. I can’t fucking wait."

"I want to look into your eyes when I kill you and your brother."

"My brother..."

The Tangerine glanced toward his bother with a look that Lemon rarely ever saw, one of fear.

Tangerine gets ahold of himself and looks out the window, "Morning rush hour’s rolling in quite nicely. Uh, what’s your plan, mate? You gonna fuckin’ waltz up here and blow my brains out in front of the whole fuckin’ carriage of witnesses?

"There is no one left on that train. I know. I bought every ticket until the end of the line."

The line cuts short and Lemon and Tangerine are left in silence, the sole sound being the train rolling along its tracks.

"Never have we encountered a more unbearable Deisel-"

Lemon is interrupted by Tangerine, who yells in absolute frustration and anger. Brass knuckles in hand, he begins punching at the screen at the front of the carriage 'till his hands begin to bleed, "All of this for some fuckin' pathetic excuse of a father and a husband! Can't even be bothered to show his ugly mug."

Tangerine's knuckles throbbed with pain as he relentlessly pounded on the screen at the front of the carriage.

"The. Fucking. Bastard." He enunciates each word with a punch.

His frustration and anger boiled over, fueling each blow with an intensity that bordered on madness. Blood trickled down his hands, staining the metal beneath him, but he paid no heed to the pain. All that mattered was the overwhelming sense of betrayal and helplessness that consumed him.

Beside him, Lemon watched in stunned silence, his usual calm demeanor shattered by the raw display of emotion unfolding before him. He had never seen Tangerine like this – so consumed by rage and despair that he seemed almost unrecognizable.

"Tangerine, stop!" Lemon finally shouted, reaching out to grab his brother's arm. "You're only hurting yourself."

But Tangerine shook off his brother's grip, his eyes ablaze with fury. "I couldn't give a fuck!" he roared, his voice echoing through the empty carriage. Lemon raises an eyebrow and Tangerine avoids his eyes, embarrassed almost by his fit of rage. He breathes heavily before sighing shakily, "This mission's been fucked since the beginning, 'asn't it?"

"Yep."

"And we should probably get off the train, shouldn't we?"

"Yep."

"Right. Fuck the case."

Lemon pats him on the shoulder, "Damn right, bruv."

Bloodied and bruised (Tangerine more than Lemon because Lemon doesn't bleed), they make their way through the next train carriage, only to come across another figure. Someone was still on the train. As Tangerine and Lemon cautiously approached the figure, they couldn't help but feel a sense of trepidation. After all they had been through, encountering another passenger on the seemingly deserted train was unexpected, to say the least.

There you were, your eyes wide with fear as she took in the sight of the bloodied brothers. You hadn't expected to come across this mysterious stranger once more. You shrank back instinctively, still shaken by the snake incident.

Tangerine and Lemon exchanged a wary glance before Tangerine spoke, his voice surprisingly gentle despite the anger still simmering beneath the surface, "Hey there, love. Ya alright?"

You calmed at the sound of Tangerine's voice and a confidence that you rarely had took over you, "Now that you're here."

Tangerine laughs, "Where are your friends?"

You wave your arms weakly, your words slurring together, "Gone... They left me behind. A poisonous snake started biting people. That guy wasn't so lucky." You point to the body of an unfortunate passenger, obscured beneath two seats. He had blood seeping out of his eyes. Lemon and Tangerine turned to observe your line of sight and frowned in disgust.

Lemon's eyes widen with realization, "Well, now we know what killed the bastard of a White Death's son." Tangerine grunted in response.

You make an effort to stand, your drunken movements clumsy and staggering, "Are you boys here to rescue me? Because I could use a knight in shining armor."

"Something like that... You're telling me that your friends left you to face off a snake on your own while fuckin' drunk?"

You nodded sheepishly, a flush of embarrassment coloring your cheeks. "Yeah, they uh... weren't exactly the most reliable companions."

Lemon snorted derisively, "Clearly."

Tangerine shot his brother a warning look before turning back to you, his expression softening slightly. "Well, lucky for you, we happened to come along. Can you walk?"

You nodded, albeit unsteadily. "I think so. Where are we going?"

Tangerine glanced at Lemon, who shrugged in response. "Anywhere but here," Tangerine replied, his tone grim. "Let's get you off this train, and then we'll figure it out."

Lemon smiles reassuringly, "I'm Lemon by the way. He's my brother, Tangerine."

"Yes - I met him earlier."

Lemon lights up and grins at Tangerine, "Ah - so this was the pretty bird you were telling me about -"

Tangerine bristles, flushed in the face, "Shut it!" He only softens when you smile at him shyly.

With that, you collect your luggage, and the three of you set off down the deserted train carriage, Tangerine's hand on your back to keep you steady, the warmth of his hand against you sending shivers down your spine. You couldn't deny the attraction you felt towards him, and with each step, your inhibitions seemed to slip away, replaced by a newfound boldness..

Continuing down the aisles, you speak up, "You know, I was of a mind to go hunt you down."

Tangerine chuckled softly, his lips quirking up into a half-smile, "Oh, really."

"Yes - I wanted to know who your tailor was because that suit of yours makes you look as though you were crafted by the Gods. Is it on purpose that it happens to match the color of your eyes?"

Tangerine's chuckle deepened at your compliment, a faint blush gracing his cheeks. "Crafted by the Gods, hm? I'll have to remember that one."

You smirked, feeling a surge of satisfaction at the effect your words had on him. "I speak nothing but the truth," you replied cheekily, earning another amused chuckle from Tangerine.

Beside you, Lemon rolled his eyes, unable to suppress his grin at the exchange. "Are we done with the flirting, or do I need to start taking notes?"

You laughed, the sound echoing through the empty train carriage. "Oh, lighten up, Lemon. Can't a girl appreciate a well-dressed man without it being considered flirting?"

Tangerine shot you a playful wink, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Flattery will get you everywhere, love."

As the three of you made your way through the deserted train carriages, the air was thick with tension and anticipation. You found yourself drawn to Tangerine, his rugged charm and playful banter providing a welcome distraction from the chaos that had unfolded around you.

Lemon, ever the voice of reason, kept a watchful eye on his surroundings, his gaze occasionally darting towards you and his brother as if to ensure that no further harm befell you. Despite the gravity of the situation, a sense of camaraderie seemed to be blossoming between the three of you, forged in the crucible of shared adversity.

Suddenly, a faint sound caught your attention, causing you to halt in your tracks. Tangerine and Lemon tensed, their bodies coiled like springs, ready to react at a moment's notice.

"Did you hear that?" you whispered, your heart pounding in your chest.

Tangerine nodded, his eyes narrowing as he scanned the dimly lit carriage. "Stay close," he murmured, his hand tightening protectively around your arm.

The sound grew louder, a rhythmic thud that seemed to emanate from the far end of the carriage. Lemon inched forward, his movements fluid and silent, every muscle in his body poised for action.

As you rounded the corner, the sight that greeted you was one of equal parts amusement and confusion. There, in the center of the aisle, was the blonde man in the bucket hat, frantically attempting to pry open a briefcase with what appeared to be a comically oversized set of pliers.

Upon catching sight of you three, the man froze, his eyes wide with panic. "Uh, this isn't what it looks like?" he stammered, nervousness clear in his voice.

Tangerine and Lemon exchanged a knowing glance, their lips curling into matching smirks of amusement. "Oh, I think it's exactly what it looks like," Tangerine drawled, his tone laced with sarcasm.

"That's our case, you muppet," Lemon chimed in, his arms folded across his chest as he regarded the man with disdain.

The man's eyes darted from one of you to the other, his grip tightening around the pliers as he searched for an escape route. "Listen-"

Tangerine's face hardened, "You drugged my brother..."

"He was trying to kill me?!"

"You pushed me off a fuckin' train..."

"Again, you were trying to kill me! How did you get back on by the way?"

"I jumped back on," Tangerine raised an eyebrow. Lemon looked at him with confusion, seemingly unaware of this information.

You looked at Tangerine in awe and admiration, impressed by the skill and effort it must have taken to jump onto a moving train. The broken glass in his hair and cuts along his knuckles now made more sense. You had a feeling that whatever you had walked into, these people you had met, were entangled in something far beyond your understanding.

"Right. Listen, you can have the case-"

"We couldn't give a rat's arse about the case anymore. What irks me beyond anything fuckin' else in that you tried to fuck us over. And if we weren't gettin' off this train, me and Lemon would be beyond thrilled to watch the White Death have a fuckin' field day with you, ripping your limbs off bit by bit."

You weren't from Japan but even you had heard of the White Death. Locals had fearfully mentioned his name in passing. Based off of what you had heard of the man, you knew that he was not someone to mess around with.

Ladybug tried to look doubtful, "Not if I bring him the case."

Tangerine rolled his eyes and looked at Lemon as if asking, "Help me out here?" and Lemon spoke up, "Do what you fucking want, man, but the White Death is planning to kill us all. Why do think there's nobody else on this train. He bought the whole thing out."

Ladybug's eyes widened with realization, "Well, shit..."

"Now you get it," Tangerine muttered, "Ya fuckin' bastard..."

Ladybug's resolve wavered as he weighed his options. After a moment of contemplation, he nodded decisively. "Alright, fine. I'll get off the train too."

Tangerine and Lemon exchanged a glance of surprise, but they quickly regained their composure. Tangerine cleared his throat, "Are you taking the case with ya?"

Ladybug hesitated, glancing at the briefcase still clutched in his hand. After a moment, he shook his head. "No. I don't want the White Death coming after me. I'll leave it here."

Tangerine nodded in understanding, his expression grim. "Fair enough. We're getting off at the next stop. Then, you do whatever the fuck you'd like and hopefully, we never have to see you again."

Still questioning whether Tangerine still had murderous intent behind his words, Ladybug muttered, "I hope so too..."

As the train hurtleed towards its next stop, the four of you found seats in the empty carriage, the tension in the air palpable. Ladybug sat off to the side awkwardly. You couldn't help but feel a sense of unease settle over you, the reality of the situation sinking in. Gone was the carefree excitement of your girls' trip, replaced by a looming sense of danger and uncertainty.

You fidgeted nervously in your seat, the events of the past hour replaying in your mind. You felt as though you had sobered up. The snake, the abandoned train, the potential encounter with the White Death – it all felt like something out of a nightmare. And yet, here you were, stranded on a speeding train with two complete strangers who seem to have a knack for attracting trouble.

Despite your best efforts to stay calm, a wave of anxiety washed over you, leaving you feeling vulnerable and exposed. You glanced at Tangerine and Lemon, grateful for their presence but also acutely aware of the danger that surrounded you.

Tangerine noticed your unease and shifted closer to you, his voice soft and reassuring. "Hey, don't worry. We'll get through this together."

You managed a weak smile, appreciative of his attempt to comfort you. "I hope so. This whole situation is just... unreal."

Lemon nodded in agreement, his expression serious. "Yeah, it's definitely not what we were expecting when we boarded this train."

Tangerine placed a hand on your shoulder, his touch gentle yet reassuring. "But we'll figure it out. We always do. My concern, love, is what you're going to do about those friends of yours."

Lemon huffed angrily, "They're Diesels, the lot of them."

You frowned, confused, "Diesels?"

Tangerine looked frustrated beyond belief, "Here we go! Please, spare her of the Thomas references."

Lemon ignored him and stated matter-of-factly, "Everything I learned about people, I learned from Thomas." Lemon reached into his jacket to pull out a sticker-book. He chose one of the stickers with care, "Diesels are the worst of the worst. They never want the best for you. You, though... you seem like an Emily. Kind, caring, intelligent."

Lemon carefully selected a sticker from his book and offered it to you with a small smile. "Here, consider it a token of friendship."

You accepted the sticker, examining it curiously before affixing it to the back of your hand. "Thanks, Lemon. I appreciate it."

Tangerine rolled his eyes at Lemon's Thomas reference, clearly exasperated. "Great, now we're going to have to endure Thomas and his friends for the rest of the journey."

Lemon chuckled and you couldn't help but laugh at Tangerine's comment, the absurdity of the situation breaking through the tension. "So, does that make you a Gordon, Tangerine? Strong, proud, and always in a hurry?"

Tangerine shot you a mock glare, clearly unamused by the comparison. "Oh, please. If anything, I'm more of a James. Fiery, charming, and a bit of a troublemaker."

You grinned, enjoying the banter between the brothers. "Ah, yes. I can see it now. But let's not forget about Edward over here," you teased, gesturing to Lemon. "Wise, kind-hearted, and always ready to lend a helping hand."

Lemon nodded in agreement, a hint of amusement in his eyes. "Well, someone has to keep you two in line."

Tangerine groaned playfully, "Great, now there are fuckin' two of them," he mutters under his breath, earning a chuckle from Lemon and a playful nudge from you.

As the banter settled into a comfortable rhythm, you couldn't help but feel a sense of camaraderie forming between you and the brothers. However, a nagging curiosity lingered in the back of your mind, prompting you to finally voice your question.

"So, why were you two on the train?" you asked, turning to Tangerine and Lemon with a quizzical expression.

Lemon exchanged a glance with Tangerine before answering, his tone guarded. "We were on a job."

"A job?" you echoed, your curiosity piqued. "What kind of job?"

Tangerine sighed, exchanging a knowing look with Lemon before turning to you, his expression grave. "We're... assassins," he admitted, his voice soft but firm.

You blinked in surprise, the revelation sinking in slowly. Assassins. The word hung in the air, heavy with implications and danger. And yet, strangely, you found yourself unfazed by the admission. Perhaps it was the trust you had begun to place in Tangerine and Lemon, or maybe it was the adrenaline coursing through your veins, but you couldn't bring yourself to feel afraid.

Instead, you nodded thoughtfully, accepting the information without hesitation. "I figured it was something like that," you admitted, surprising even yourself with your calm demeanor. "Well, whatever it is you do, I trust you to protect me."

Tangerine's eyes softened, a flicker of gratitude passing over his features. "Thank you, love. We'll do everything we can to keep you safe."

And then, just like that, the train finally came to a stop. The three of you jumped eagerly, knowing the doors would only stay open for a minute. If you missed this stop, it would mean waiting 'till Kyoto, where the White Death awaited you all. Ladybug was equally eager to get off the train and was practically tripping over his feet.

The sun was rising, casting a soft golden glow over the empty platform as you stepped off the train, and the air was crisp and cool, a welcome change from the confines of the carriage. As you stood there, surrounded by the quiet stillness of the early morning, a sense of relief washed over you.

As Ladybug stepped off the train, he turned to face Tangerine and Lemon, a grateful smile on his face. "Well, it's been... interesting," he said, his tone laced with a hint of sarcasm. "Thanks for, uh, not killing me, I guess."

Lemon chuckles, warning him, "You stay out of trouble, Joburg."

With a final nod of farewell, Ladybug headed off towards the exit, pulling out his phone to call his handler. As he disappeared into the early morning light, Tangerine and Lemon turned to you, their expressions serious.

"So, what now?" Lemon asked, his brow furrowed in concern.

You shrugged, feeling a surge of uncertainty wash over you. "I honestly don't know. I don't have anywhere else to go."

Tangerine exchanged a glance with Lemon before turning back to you, his expression softened. "Well, you could always come with us," he suggested, his voice surprisingly gentle. "At least until we figure out what to do next."

You hesitated, unsure of whether to accept their offer. But as you looked into Tangerine's eyes, you saw a sincerity there that made your heart flutter. Despite the chaos and danger that seemed to follow him wherever he went, there was something undeniably compelling about him, something that drew you in and made you want to stay by his side.

"Alright," you said finally, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "I'll come with you."

Tangerine grinned, relief evident in his expression. "Great. Welcome aboard, love."

With that, the three of you set off for the train station. Surrounded by the quiet stillness of the early morning, you couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement building within you.

After Tangerine had made a call, a car came to pick the three of you up from the train station. When Tangerine had suggested he and Lemon try to hijack a car, you had almost slapped him right then and there. Tangerine was apologetic and insisted he was joking (you weren't quite convinced) and Lemon just laughed his ass off.

As the three of you drove to a hotel in the backseat of the cab, you had fallen asleep on Tangerine's shoulder, and he certainly didn't seem to mind. Your hair tickled his neck and he looked down at you, absentmindedly moving your hair out of your eyes. Lemon watched him with a grin.

"You like her."

Tangerine huffed indignantly and narrowed his eyes, "You don't know what you're talking about."

Lemon waved his hand, "You barely give anyone the time of day. I know it when I see it."

"You don't see anything."

Lemon leaned back in his seat, a knowing smirk playing at the corners of his lips. "Oh, come on, Tangerine. It's written all over your face. You like her."

Tangerine's cheeks flushed slightly, a mixture of embarrassment and irritation evident in his expression. He hoped to God that you were still sleeping. "Quiet! You don't know what you're fuckin' talking about," he retorted, his tone defensive.

Lemon chuckled, shaking his head in amusement. "Deny it all you want, but I've seen the way you look at her. You're practically smitten."

Tangerine shifted uncomfortably in his seat, avoiding Lemon's gaze as he muttered under his breath, "It's not like that."

But Lemon wasn't about to let him off the hook that easily. With a mischievous glint in his eyes, he leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "You should tell her."

"She probably doesn't even feel the same..."

"Did you fucking hear her earlier? She obviously likes you, bruv. Sculpted by the gods, my arse."

"Oi! I will have you know-"

"Yeah, yeah... But seriously, man. Talk to her."

Tangerine prepared to interrupt but Lemon continued, "Get to know her," Lemon urged, his tone softer now, genuine concern etched on his face. "You've been through a lot together already. And let's face it, she trusts us enough to sleep on your shoulder. That's gotta mean something."

Tangerine sighed, his shoulders slumping in defeat. He couldn't deny the truth in Lemon's words. Despite his initial reluctance to get involved, there was something about you that intrigued him, drew him in like a moth to a flame.

"I don't know, Lemon," Tangerine admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'm not exactly the best at this whole... relationship thing."

Lemon placed a reassuring hand on Tangerine's shoulder, offering a supportive smile. "Hey, none of us are. But you won't know until you try, right? And who knows, maybe she'll surprise you."

Tangerine nodded, a small glimmer of hope flickering in his eyes. Maybe Lemon was right. Maybe it was worth taking a chance, risking his heart for the possibility of something more.

As the car pulled to the hotel, Tangerine glanced down at you again. As you stirred from your slumber, blinking sleepily up at him with a soft smile, he felt something flutter in his chest. He would talk to you, somehow, he decided. He would take that leap of faith and see where it led. He had to.

The hotel was nice, even nicer than the hotel you had been previously staying at with your absurdly wealthy "friends." It was modern while still retaining traditional Japanese elements. Given Tangerine's nonchalance, you guessed he was used to staying at places like this.

The receptionist gave the three of you a nervous glance, given the states of Lemon and Tangerine's disheveled appearances and bloodied attire. Tangerine, however, seemed unfazed by the receptionist's scrutiny. He stepped forward with a confident stride, offering her a polite smile.

"Good evening," he greeted in suprisingly well-spoken Japanese, his tone smooth and respectful. "We have reservations under the name 'Tanaka.'"

The receptionist's demeanor softened slightly at Tangerine's polite demeanor, and she quickly retrieved the reservation details from her computer. After a moment of typing, she nodded and handed over three room keys, her expression professional but still cautious. "Yes, Mr. Tanaka. Your suite is ready. Please enjoy your stay."

Tangerine nodded in thanks before turning to you and Lemon. "Let's go," he said simply, leading the way to the elevator without waiting for a response.

You followed behind him, feeling a mix of gratitude for his quick thinking and admiration for his composure. Despite the unusual circumstances, Tangerine seemed completely at ease navigating through the hotel, as if he belonged there.

Lemon notices your surprise and whispers loudly, "Sometimes I think he picked up Japanese since we've been here just to pick up the ladies."

He gives you a conspiratorial wink, showcasing the mischievous side that balances out his normally laid-back demeanor. "I mean, it seems to have worked on you."

You shoot Lemon a playful glare, but can't hide the slight flush that colors your cheeks at his teasing remark. "Maybe he's just a man of many talents," you counter with a sly smile.

Lemon barks out a laugh. "Oh, he's certainly got talents alright. Just don't let that smooth-talking charmer fool you into thinking he's some kind of Renaissance man."

As the elevator doors open, Tangerine holds it for the two of you, raising an inquisitive eyebrow at Lemon's comment but remaining silent. You get the distinct impression that he heard every word.

Falling into step beside Tangerine, you lean in closer as you walk down the hallway. "I have to admit, that display at the front desk was rather impressive," you murmur. "Where did you pick up such immaculate Japanese?"

A rakish grin tugs at the corner of Tangerine's mouth. "A gentleman never reveals all his secrets, love." His eyes roam over you appraisingly. "Though I may be persuaded to share a few...for the right price."

Your breath catches at the blatant flirtation, heat simmering low in your belly. Two can play at this game. "Is that so?" you purr, holding his intense gaze. "And what might that price be, exactly?"

Before Tangerine can respond, Lemon groans loudly from behind you two. "For fuck's sake, get a room you two!" His exasperated tone is betrayed by the amused grin he's failing to hide.

Tangerine chuckles, breaking the charged moment as he slides the keycard into the door. "You're just jealous you're not getting any action, bruv."

"Hey, I get plenty of action!" Lemon protests indignantly as he brushes past you both into the sumptuous suite. "More than you'd believe."

Rolling his eyes good-naturedly, Tangerine gestures you inside with a wink. "Don't mind him, love. He's just bitter no one can resist my charms."

As you step into the opulent room, you can't shake the feeling that there's far more to these roguish brothers than meets the eye. And there's definitely a part of you that wants to explore Tangerine in more ways than one.

As you step into the lavish suite, you can't help but be in awe of your surroundings. The spacious living area is beautifully appointed, with plush couches and chairs arranged invitingly around a sleek glass coffee table. To one side, there's a well-equipped office nook, perfect for getting work done in luxury.

But the true showstopper is the stunning panoramic view that greets you through the floor-to-ceiling windows. The twinkling lights of the city skyline stretch out before you, a breathtaking vista that seems to encapsulate the vibrant energy of Japan itself. You can't resist drifting closer to the windows, mesmerized by the glittering skyscrapers in the distance.

A small, stylish kitchenette sits off to one side, fully stocked with high-end appliances and accessories. You can easily imagine Tangerine whipping up a gourmet meal with that roguish charm of his.

Your gaze is drawn to the three closed doors leading off from the main living space, no doubt opening up into equally luxurious bedrooms and bathrooms.

"This is...very nice," you murmur with amazement as you gaze around the opulent suite.

"Yeah, not too shabby," Lemon chimes in with a dramatic yawn. "I don't know about you two, but I'm fuckin' knackered. Need to get cleaned up."

He wanders over to the closed doors and spots a notecard with his codename scrawled across it. "Ah, looks like our handler left us some essentials."

Peering into the room, you see plush bedding, a high-end ensuite bathroom...and unmistakably, a duffel bag filled with gear. Cash, burner phones, and even weaponry peeking out from within.

Tangerine notices your curious look. "Don't worry love, those are just for me and Lemon."

He shifts closer, dropping his voice. "You'll be alright on your own for a bit while we get sorted? Let me know if you need anything."

You nod, giving him a reassuring smile. "I'll be fine, really. You two get yourselves situated."

With a grateful nod, Tangerine disappears into his own room, leaving you alone in the expansive living area. After a moment's hesitation, you make your way to the remaining door.

Sure enough, the bedroom is just as luxurious as the rest of the suite. A lavish king-sized bed dominates the space, with high-end furniture and a private ensuite. On the dresser, you find a change of clothes - simple sweats and a t-shirt, but incredibly soft and brand new nonetheless.

Stripping off your travel-worn clothes, you can't resist indulging in a long, hot shower, letting the tension ease from your muscles under the pounding spray. But as you sink into the plush mattress, exhaustion settles in your bones...and you find your thoughts drifting, unable to fully relax.

Loneliness and a pang of hurt wash over you as you recall your so-called friends abandoning you on the train. You'd been through so much together, but at the first sign of true danger, they fled without a second thought, leaving you utterly alone.

Except...you're not alone anymore, are you? Your gaze strays to the adjoining wall, knowing Tangerine's room lies just beyond. Those two roguish brothers have risked their lives to keep you safe.

A flush of embarrassment heats your cheeks as you recall your brazenly flirtatious behavior towards Tangerine while intoxicated on the train. The boldness with which you complimented his striking looks and blatantly admired his physique in that tailored suit.

Under normal circumstances, you'd never have been so forward. But something about the adrenaline of the perilous situation, combined with the liquid courage coursing through your veins, allowed you to shed your inhibitions spectacularly.

You can't help but cringe inwardly as snippets of conversation flash through your mind.

"You look as though you were crafted by the Gods..."

"I could use a knight in shining armor."

Heat blazes across your face at the suggestive remarks. How shameless you were, practically throwing yourself at the mysterious stranger!

And yet...you can't find it in yourself to truly regret it. If you're being honest, that uninhibited side of you is something you've kept carefully locked away for far too long. The thrill of allowing it to run free, even for those fleeting moments, was intoxicating in its own right.

Perhaps that's part of what drew you to Tangerine in the first place - his own unapologetic confidence and daring bravado. He embraces his roguish charm wholeheartedly, not a shred of self-consciousness to be found.

A part of you longs to cultivate that same unrestrained spirit, to stop holding yourself back and hiding behind propriety. To truly allow yourself to live boldly, to take what you want without hesitation or apology.

As you lay in the plush hotel bed, you can't resist imagining how freeing it would feel to let that side loose once more. But this time, with no alcoholic filter - simply pure, emboldened desire guiding your actions.

The thought is as tantalizing as it is terrifying. Could you ever truly allow yourself such unrestrained indulgence? Or would you always be tempered by the nagging restraints of societal expectations?

One thing is certain - now that Tangerine has sauntered into your life, you have the distinct feeling those long-buried urges will only grow more persistent. And you can't deny, after the harrowing events of today, that a large part of you is eager to explore just how far you're willing to let them run wild.

Making a decision, you rise from the bed and make your way towards Tangerine's door, knocking lightly.

"Come in!"

You enter to find Tangerine hunched over a mirror, grimacing as he prods at a nasty cut on his cheekbone. Tiny shards of glass glisten in the wound.

"Everything alright?" you ask softly.

Tangerine glances over with a rueful smile. "Just a little souvenir from that bastard bucket-hat bloke. Nicked my face after jumping back on the train."

Without thinking, you move to his side, gently taking his chin to tilt his face towards the light. "Here, let me..."

You work carefully, utilizing all your focus to extract each sliver of glass, cleaning the wound thoroughly. Tangerine watches you intently, an unreadable look in his intense blue eyes.

"You've got a knack for this, love," he murmurs eventually. "Bit of a dab hand when it comes to patching people up."

You flush slightly at the praise. "Well...I used to be a nurse, actually." A pang of regret hits you. "Honestly, I should've offered to help with yours and Lemon's injuries earlier. I feel silly for not thinking of it."

Tangerine considers you for a long moment before speaking again, his voice lowered. "How'd you like to put those nursing skills to good use then? Properly, this time?"

You blink at him in surprise. "What do you mean?"

"Join up with me and my brother." Tangerine states it simply, as if it's the most logical thing in the world. "We could use someone with your...capabilities watching our backs. Keeping us in one piece."

He lets the suggestion hang in the air, letting you process it. When you don't immediately respond, he presses on.

"Don't sell yourself short, love. You handled yourself bloody well on that train when shit went sideways, and all while being tipsy. You've got a cool head and you're not afraid to get your hands dirty when needed."

A roguish grin plays across his lips. "And I don't know about you, but I certainly enjoyed the company."

You're stunned into silence, weighing his unexpected offer. Join them? In their line of work - whatever dangerous world that entails?

But even as apprehension swirls within you, you can't deny the thrill the idea sparks, the instinct to run headlong into this exhilarating unknown.

"What about money?" you blurt out, startled by your own daring even as the words leave your lips. "Your...jobs. How do they pay?"

If Tangerine is surprised by your interest, he doesn't show it. "Well enough to live more than comfortably, I can assure you. Probably more than that nursing gig of yours ever did."

His eyes burn with intensity. "Think it over, love. But I meant what I said - I'd love to have you by my side."

You search his gaze, seeing the barely concealed hope intermingled with that simmering confidence. You notice just how blue his eyes are In this moment, the choice is yours to make.

Taking a steadying breath, you meet Tangerine's stare head-on. "Alright. I'm in."

Tangerine's face breaks into a wide, genuine smile at your agreement to join him and Lemon, his eyes crinkling at the corners. For a fleeting moment, his typical bravado slips, replaced by an openness you've yet to witness from the assassin.

Then his gaze seems to catch on something - your hand, still gently cradling his jaw from cleaning his wound. A faint blush tinges his chiseled cheeks as the realization of your lingering proximity sinks in.

Clearing his throat, Tangerine averts his eyes, a hint of uncharacteristic bashfulness creeping into his tone. "That's, uh...that's great, love. I'm over the moon you're on board, truly."

He chances another glance your way, blue eyes burning with an intensity that steals your breath. "To be honest, part of me was terrified at the thought of never seeing you again after this job."

Tangerine lets out a rueful chuckle, shaking his head slightly. "Sounds daft, I know. But there's just...something about you."

His calloused fingers ghost along your arm, sending a shiver down your spine. "I've not felt this way about someone in a long time. Maybe fuckin' ever, if I'm being honest with myself."

You're stunned by his vulnerability, the raw openness he's allowing you to witness. Unconsciously, you find yourself leaning into his touch, drawn in by the flickering warmth in those azure depths.

"Tangerine..." you murmur, pulse fluttering wildly. "I...you have no idea how entranced I was by you from the moment I laid eyes on you on that train."

The words tumble forth in a rush, as if a dam has broken within you. "Those things I said when I was tipsy? It was all true - what I was thinking deep down but could never normal bring myself to voice. You're gorgeous, yes, but it's more than that. The way you carried yourself with such easy confidence, the charm mixed with that protectiveness..."

Your fingers trace the sharp line of his jaw reverently. "I've been enamored with you since I first saw you. And my friends could see it plain as day too. When I first heard you speak, my God... you could narrate audiobooks with that voice of yours. I'm serious. ."

Before you can continue, Tangerine surges forward, capturing your lips in a searing kiss. It's passionate yet achingly tender, his hand cupping the back of your neck to pull you flush against him. You melt into his solid frame, returning the heated embrace with equal fervor, all thoughts fleeing from your mind aside from the searing brand of his mouth on yours.

You pull on the strands of hair that meet his neck and he lets out a whine. He traces one of his hands down your spine, the coldness of his rings making you shiver. When you grind against his crotch, he's tearing himself away with a ragged groan, resting his forehead against yours. His chest heaves with each shuddering breath, eyes dark with want.

"Bloody hell, love..." Tangerine rasps hoarsely. "If you keep going on like that, I won't be able to resist taking you right here and now."

You let out a breathless laugh, emboldened by the fire igniting in your blood. "Well, I certainly wouldn't object to that course of action..."

He groans again, dropping his head to press scorching kisses along the slender column of your throat. "You're going to be the death of me, pet."

Nipping lightly at your racing pulse point, Tangerine rumbles against your skin. "How about you stay in here tonight? No point in you being relegated to your own room..."

His heated gaze meets yours, swirling with a molten promise that sets your heart pounding. In this moment, you know there's no force on earth that could make you deny him.

As he draws you towards the bedroom, your eyes catch on the well-worn books piled on his nightstand. "You read?" You can't help the hint of pleasant surprise coloring your voice.

Tangerine follows your line of sight, the hint of a sheepish grin tugging at his lips. "Suppose that's one of my little secrets, eh? Always enjoyed a good book, ever since I was young."

Settling onto the plush mattress, he pulls you into his side, trailing kisses along your shoulder. "Go on then, have a look. See if our tastes align at all."

You happily oblige, perusing the titles - a mixture of classics and modern works spanning countless genres. Unable to resist, you pluck out a beloved old favorite, flipping through the dog-eared pages with a contented smile.

"We may just be literary soulmates, Tangerine," you tease lightly. "Though...I have to ask. What draws a hardened assassin to the poetry of Dickinson and the wit of Shakespeare?"

For a moment, he's quiet, considering your question carefully. When he speaks again, his voice is tinged with a rare wistfulness.

"They're a connection to another world, I suppose. An escape, in their own way. A reminder that for all the brutality and darkness this life can bring...beauty and deeper meaning will always exist, if you know where to look for it."

The simple yet profound wisdom of his words steals your breath. Here is a side of Tangerine few ever glimpse - a man who has stared into the abyss yet still yearns for higher truth, for exquisite artistry amid the violence and chaos.

His fingers trail along your arm, raising gooseflesh in their wake. "Lemon finds the whole thing utterly baffling, of course. For me, books are my trains. He can't seem to fathom why I insist on lugging books everywhere we go. But to me..." A soft, crooked smile curves his lips. "Well, they're part of what keeps me human, I reckon."

In this quiet moment, something ineffable seems to click into place between you two. A deeper understanding, a sense of two souls intertwining with preternatural ease.

Cradling his face, you meet Tangerine's fervent gaze once more. "Then I hope you'll always have time for them," you murmur. "And I'll be here to help keep that part of you alive."

His reply is swallowed by another ardent kiss, filled with unspoken promise. For now, at least, the world beyond these four walls can wait.

@little-miss-dilf-lover @tange-my-rine @sebsbarnes @spookyspecterino @whatiswrongwithpeople @liukangsgirl @kiss-me-cill-me I hope you guys enjoy this as well!

#bullet train tangerine #bullet train #bullet train movie #tangerine #tangerine bullet train #tangerine x reader #tangerine fanfiction #tangerine fic #tangerine imagine #tangerine x you #atj #aaron taylor johnson #lemon bullet train #lemon #lemon and tangerine #x reader #reader #reader insert

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tange-my-rine · 2 months

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Temporary Fix || Tangerine x gn!reader

Summary: You and Tangerine weren't complicated, sometimes you'd see him on the job and he'd provide you... stress relief. It was easy, so easy. It wasn't supposed to be anything else, just friends (barely acquaintances really) doing what you both needed. It wasn't like you could have someone on the job anyway. You didn't think it was anything that would change. But, he had never seen you hurt before, and when a job goes wrong, well... everything changes.

TW: friends with benefits (for now), mentioned sex (but nothing graphic), protective! Tangerine, possessive!Tangerine, violence, blood, murder, guns, gunshot wounds, mentioned death, cursing (it's Tangerine), and all things bullet train.

[[A/N: yes this is a one direction title, what about it??? also the reader's codename is 'Mouse', you work with Ladybug. Tan calls you pretty but who doesn't to be called pretty?? This is got really long, sorry !!!]]

You were pretty good at your job, your messes weren't messy and your kills were organized, clean really. (Your agency did have a cleanup crew for when things got out of hand, so your work still stayed pristine even when it did get messy.) That's how you got your code name, Mouse, because you were in and out of a location as quiet 'as a mouse'.

You're not sure when you met the twins, but you do remember it was bloody. Something about you showing up to your gig and a trail of blood led you through the building right into their presence. You'd somehow known it was the twins (kind of because of the mess) but otherwise because there was two of them -stuck like glue.

The barrel of two guns pointed at your head, and you shared your mission, and they theirs, which were actually totally unrelated. Needless to say, you got out of there with your USB drive. (Mostly because of Lemon, Tangerine wouldn't have flinched if he pulled the trigger.)

It just kept happening. Undercover missions, hits, and even work you had to travel to, somehow they ended up in the same place. Not always for the same work, you should say, but same destination. You'd originally thought it was some sort of coo, that they were trailing you but after confronting them (and Tangerine saying he didn't 'give a fuck about your whereabouts'), the idea was void.

The first time your... situation had started was one of your missions where you went undercover. Some sort of fancy charity gala, if you remember correctly, and Tangerine was there. Just Tangerine, he didn't tell you why -he hardly even wanted to speak to you.

You'd offhandedly said something about all the rich people being attractive, and how it wasn't fair. He'd promptly said, "You don't have to worry about bein' attractive, love, you're the prettiest one here."

He wasn't flirting, or you didn't think he was -he didn't even smile, or smirk, or anything- just spoke over the rim of his cup and took a long drink after. Your eyes darted to his Adam's apple for a second, you'll admit it.

Nothing else happened that night, you didn't flirt. You don't know what did it, not at all, he just kept looking at you -small little, intense, glances. Once again, you thought nothing of it.

Well, until he pulled you into a closet and kissed the literal breath out of you.

And, well, the rest is easy to figure out.

It didn't happen all the time, not every mission, but sometimes, when the adrenaline was high. You called each other when you weren't on the same mission; he'd done it after the first time, and you followed suit. It was easy, so easy.

That brings you to today, it was supposed to be a grab-and-go, easy. Except for the whole full building of people part, it was an office actually and you needed the CEO. There were so many civilians, but you were Mouse -you'd be in and out so quick, they wouldn't even see you.

Your intel was wrong.

The whole place was filled with bodyguards, and security, head-to-toe, filled. You were good at your job, but you were outnumbered -so incredibly outnumbered.

Needless to say, your disguise of an office worker didn't work.

There was blood tainting your skin, your head on a swivel -fuzzy and pounding. Your were on the third floor, hidden in a janitors closet -the smell of cleaner burnt your nose and made your eyes water.

Your chest heaving and your hands shaking, you were overwhelmed -you couldn't do this alone. God knows how many men were on the last two floors. And you were 90% sure your ribs were broken on your right side, your leg was shot, and your shoulder was shot -you couldn't move. No way you were going up the stairs. You weren't even sure you could leave the building at this point-

You were bleeding out, actually, if the wooziness in your head meant anything.

Your comm was broken on the first floor, you'd cussed and thrown it to the ground. So, even if it still worked, it was lost -long gone of the concrete floors.

You were totally and completely fucked.

Then, you felt something in your pocket, rubbing against your clothes -scratching against the fabric. It buzzed then, low and under the hollowness of your breath; you barely heard it -a pounding in your ears so loud, you think it was your heartbeat.

You breathed out, pulling your phone out with your hand that wasn't lax on the floor -your shoulder wasn't fun to move.

The text flashed across your screen, Tangerine. It was a little blurry, your head spinning but if you focused you could read it.

'You home?'

Something in you sighed, deep and broken; maybe this was the last time you'd ever speak to him. You'd kind of become fond of him, all blue eyes and broad shoulders -his accent and the way his lips would creak up when he smiled at you. You ached for something you didn't have, you realized.

What a fucking time to realize it-

You typed out a message, painstakingly, a single finger -slow and deliberate, 'No. Job. Bleeding out, hidden. Too many.'

Your head was pounding, but you pushed through it, typing, 'I'm sorry, Tan.'

Your hand loosened, laying slack on your lap -your head hurt, maybe you could rest your eyes for a little bit. Not long, just a second to get the pounding out of your head.

Before you could fully do it, the phone in your lap jostled vibrating -it nearly fell, clattering onto the concrete floor but you grabbed it. Not eager to be found, you could die now but you would die if they found you.

Your eyes flickered across your screen, Tangerine flashed along it, shaking in your hand; he was calling you.

Something in you made you gather the strength to swipe and answer it -maybe to hear his voice again, or to say goodbye. You weren't sure, god you were so tired.

"Mouse," his accent spilled out, pointed, "-fuckin' Mouse, can you hear me, love?"

"Hey, Tan," you croaked out -voice rough and low, still not wanting to get caught and wanting to laugh -you didn't want to die sad, "-funny hearing from you."

"Mouse," he didn't react, seemed to be moving, you could hear his footsteps -loud, loud, "-where are you?"

"On a job," you sighed out, words a little breathless and slurred, "-'Supposed to be an office building, but it wasn't. Security, so many security- Think the CEO was bigger than fucking officework-"

"Darling," he spoke softer, but still loud, direct, "-focus on my voice, yeah?"

"Okay," you hummed, more focused -you wanted to do whatever he wanted, "-I will."

"Now," he spoke, gently, and you heard a car door shut -absentmindedly, "-where are you? Can you remember?"

"On the docks," you answered, slow -trying to process the words you were saying, "-tall, so many windows... Company, it's a... glass company, I think. J-Johnson something."

Tangerine hummed low and warm, you recognized the tone -somehow you knew it, "Okay, okay, love. Good- Good job."

"Third floor," you echoed out, "-There's two more, people still in them, I didn't get far enough."

"Can you hear 'em, love?"

"Sometimes," you let out a long breath, "-I'm staying quiet, they'll kill me, Tan-"

"Relax, darling," his voice crept up to your ear, "-breathe, keep focused, yeah? Keep talkin' to me."

'Lemon, fuckin' drive faster, will you?'

"I'm in a...a janitors closet, it's dark in here, I-I can't see. Think I'm bleeding," you mumbled out -a little slurred, you weren't sure he could hear you.

"Fuck..." he sighed, swallowing something in his throat -you could tell you weren't supposed to hear it, "-Where are you hurt, love? They cut you, shoot you, what?"

"Broken ribs," your breath stuttered out -it stung, "-shot me in the shoulder and the leg, I can't fucking move."

"Right, yeah," he exhaled and you thought for a second it was shaky -something sour in his tone, "-You got any pressure on it? Can you?"

"'Can't move, Tan."

"Try for me, love," his voice shook a little, you couldn't think about it, "-Try the... Try the leg."

You did, moving the arm where your shoulder bled -it ached so heavily your head started to pound, but you pushed through. Pressing your palm hard against the skin, you hissed into the phone -eyes bleary, you think you might've been crying.

"I'm sorry, love," he whispered, his voice rough, "-'So sorry, love. I know it hurts like hell, I know."

Your breath shook out through your throat, tone lighter, "'Been shot before?"

"Fuckin' yesterday," he huffed out, all angry and Tangerine, "-some bloody prick grazed my side."

You laughed, and it hurt a little, but you didn't care -not then, "'Always so angry."

"Not at you," he corrected, hardly letting your words slip out, "-Never at you, love."

The hum of the engine stopped, and you heard a distant voice -Lemon, you recognized. It was a sort of murmur to you, you couldn't hear the words. You weren't sure you wanted to.

"Mouse?" He spoke out, slow words but urgent, "-You said the third floor, right? Janitors closet?"

"'s where I'm hiding," you clarified.

"Yeah, right-" you heard the patter of his footsteps, slaps across the sidewalk -some crinkling of fabric, "-I'm on my way, okay? Goin' as fast as I fuckin' can-"

"Be careful," it slipped out of your lips, low and slurred, but you know he heard it.

A sharp inhale of his breath told you so, wordless on the other side of the line -you could only hear the slap of his footsteps, so fast.

"You..." he started, something shaking in his voice, "-You stay alive, yeah? Keep breathin'-"

"Tan-"

"No," he echoed, direct and strict, "-no, you can't die. Not now, okay? You stay fuckin' alive."

"Tan-"

He continued, not slowing down -words frantic, "'Ave so much to say, love, so much. You gotta stay alive to hear it."

"Okay," you breathed out, fighting back the slip shut of your eyes -they burned and you were so tired but you couldn't leave him, not when he was so close, "-I'll stay alive. Promise."

"Promise," he echoed like it helped him understand it -believe it.

Before you knew it, your phone went silent -echoing out into the air. You squinted at it, taking a deep breath -feeling it rack through your body. Dead. Your phone was dead.

God, you'd never hated yourself more. It was so easy to breathe when he was there on the phone, so easy to remember why you were fighting and what you were fighting for.

The silence was overwhelming, a low whimper pursing through your lips -you couldn't see anything but you could feel the blood, sticky on your hand. Something in your stomach twisted, tongue heavy in your mouth; what if you died before he got here?

You can't imagine-

"Lemon," a voice echoed outside the door, "-you deal with the upstairs, keep your eye on it. I'll check every fuckin' room on this floor-"

"Tan," Lemon spoke quieter, a crinkle of fabric, "-they'll be alright. We're 'ere, remember?"

"Right, yeah," Tangerine let out a shaking breath, "-I just..."

"I know," Lemon interrupted, voice stronger, "-I think they know too. 'Just go and fuckin' find 'em, yeah?"

"Don't even have to ask-"

And then, the footsteps grew louder. You knew the closet was close to the stairs, he'd be here soon -god, he'd be here soon. You let out a deep breath, shaking against your chest -a sob racking through your lips, it wasn't loud, not really, but it was noise.

The footsteps stopped in place, and you could hear the harbored breathing for a moment, before it echoed out into the hallway -shaky and full of hope, concern, so much, "Mouse? Mouse? Can you hear me?"

Your breath stuttered in your chest, and the sting of your lungs overwhelmed you for a moment. You breathed out, slow and trying to numb your pain, and talk. But it hurt-

"I-In here-" you breathed out and it was shaking and it was quiet, but without a doubt, the footsteps quickened, so fast you could almost not even hear it.

The door, close to you, sneaked open -light pouring out into the room, it blinded you for a moment. All you could see was the shadow of a figure, you knew it though, knew the shadow. You smelt his cologne, and you had missed it-

Without a single breath shattering out of your lungs, he was standing for a moment frozen -door lazily opened and hallway out of the corner of your eye's view.

Tangerine slunk to your side, eyes dashing across your body, the stains, the blood-

He swallowed, dryly -concerned; you could see the emotions pass through his face. Something in you wants to calm him, tell him you're okay. But you didn't actually know that.

His hair was out of place, curly and ungelled, but still wearing a suit -the blue one that matched his eyes. You like that one, you mindlessly thought.

And without a word, he began to move -shrugging off his jacket. You merely watched on, as he tugged at his sleeves -unbuttoning the cuff (it was all a little familiar actually for very different circumstances), and without hesitation, ripping the fabric off his arm.

The noise echoed through the hallway, startling you slightly. Tangerine flinched a little, frowning, before going back to the fabric.

Hands tenderly gathered at your leg, he gently replaced your hand and wordlessly tied the fabric around your calf. He paused, looking at you, voice soft and gentle.

"This is gonna hurt, love. I'm sorry in advance."

And it did. Who knew?

Your head was bleary, eyes a little hazy and teary from the pain -breaths hollowed out of your chest.

"'Should be the worst of it, love," he hummed out, before sliding a hand behind your back -carefully pulling you up, "-lean on me, okay? I 'ave to get to your shoulder."

You nodded, slowly pressing your head forward into his right shoulder -his cologne filtering through your nose, and the warmth of his body fluttering over your skin. It was comforting, so much that your eyes almost closed on instinct; heartbeat in your ears, the sensation grounded you -brought you back in your body.

Tangerine was moving, looping the fabric under your arm -carefully keeping your arm steady and in place. Fingertips gentle like he was holding the world in his hands -careful and considerate.

"Stay awake, love," he spoke, his voice rumbling into your ear, "-I know you're tired, but I need ya to keep your eyes open for me."

They fluttered open at his request, forehead pressed into his shirt -you could see the thin lines in his vest, tracing the crinkle over his shoulder. You focused on the feeling, the fabric tight around your skin, and the buzz of his skin against yours.

You'd been closer really, but this was a new kind of intimacy -something that made you pleased somewhere deep in your chest. You had always wanted this you realized, this closeness with Tangerine.

How did you not notice?

Even when he stopped, hands still, you stayed there a moment like you'd never get it back.

And maybe you wouldn't. Maybe this changed everything and Tangerine would run for the hills-

Without a word, he laid you back down -gently placing your head on the ground with an attentive hand, a bit like you were breakable. Fragile. You supposed right now you were.

His eyebrows furrowed as he leaned over you, eyes hitching on the makeshift bandages, "We 'ave to get you to the hospital, shirt can only do so much, love."

You thought of the pain in your leg, the pulse of your heartbeat when you walk, but even still, you tried to push up -get on your feet. You promised you'd stay alive.

Tangerine immediately put his hands on your shoulders, keeping you in place, "What are you doing?"

"Trying to get up," you answered, simply.

"Right, no, not happenin'," he let out a laugh in disbelief, "-you are not fuckin' walkin'.

Without another word, he stood -turning around and looking down the hall, assumedly for Lemon. When his eyes caught you could tell, something straightening in his posture with one succinct nod.

They always had their language, it was so interesting to watch sometimes. Lemon would raise an eyebrow, Tangerine would squint his eyes and they'd both not move for 20 seconds like they were communicating through looks.

Before you could think about it too hard, he spun back to you -sinking to his knees. Mumbling, "Think you're fuckin' walkin', ridiculous." No hesitation, he slipped his arms under your back and knees -careful of your calf, and stood.

In another world, you'd probably be shocked at his physical strength but lucky for you, you already knew a lot about that.

Not now, your mind hissed.

Tangerine's steps were quick but careful to not jostle you at all. At some point, you heard Lemon -frantic and loud but you couldn't make out what he said. That was your first sign. The world after that began to spin, the stairwell becoming dizzying -your eyes just wanted to shut. You were so tired.

You heard Tangerine then, you knew he was speaking to you but you couldn't make out what he was saying. You tried so hard to listen-

Then, it all went black.

The first thing was the smell of sterilization hitting your nose, it made you scrunch it up on instinct and then you heard some ruffling.

"Mx. Williams?"

You did not know who Mx. Williams was, but you still squinted open your eyes -the bright lights making your head spin for a moment. You settled across the room, nothing special, just a typical hospital bed -stiff bed, thin covers, and all.

It was a woman speaking, you realized, in scrubs with a warm smile on her face. Ah, you thought, an alias.

"Hi," she spoke softly, carefully, with a smile, "-you're in a hospital, you're safe. Do you remember anything?"

"No," you answered, unsure of the story concocted to get you here.

"You were involved in a robbery," she began, slow to introduce it, "-you had a few injuries from it but you're all fixed up now, okay?"

It was surprisingly calming, "Okay."

"Your husband," she motioned to your right side, "-brought you in."

Your eyes darted to your side -because husband?!, but they just settled on Tangerine -laid back in a chair, arms crossed and chair pulled as close to your side as he could.

Something in you softened, and you smiled.

His clothes were still ripped and stained, but it was dry now. You briefly wondered how long you'd been there, how long he'd been waiting.

"Been a rough couple of days," the nurse hummed, "-he hasn't left since you got here."

You hummed, reaching out and brushing your skin against his hand -just to feel him, know he's real. It didn't wake him up, but you weren't sure you wanted him to just yet. You wanted to enjoy this before everything went... however, it went.

"You've got a good one," the nurse hummed, scribbling on a chart -eyes lounging over the machines.

You smiled a little brighter, imagining it for a second, where he was yours, "I know."

"Alright," she spoke, pushing the clipboard back into her chest, "-your doctor will be here soon."

You nodded, eyes languidly tracing over Tangerine -his head was leaned forward now, curls hanging over. Something in you wanted to brush through them, and you would have honestly, but you couldn't really reach.

You pursed your lips, throat dry, when you spotted water on the little table by your bedside and a thing of jello maybe, probably in preparation for when you got up. Pulling it toward you, maybe a little too fast, because the plastic spoon clattered to the floor; you flinched.

"Shit," you mumbled.

It definitely wasn't loud enough to wake him, but he must've been sleeping very lightly. Sudden and brash, ready to fight something -protective, he didn't even notice you.

"Woah, hey-" you laughed a bit in disbelief, and sipping from the bottle, "-calm down, cowboy."

His eyes immediately flicked to you, blue and darting all over your face like he was taking you in. Wordlessly, he stood there frozen -almost in disbelief.

You paused, looking over him -softer, "You okay, Tan?"

"Am I fuckin... Am I okay?" He echoed out, "-Really?"

"Well, yeah," you responded, slow, "-you seem... riled up."

"Love," he spoke, softer but still so direct, breathless, "-you're in a fuckin' hospital bed. You almost died-"

"Seriously, Tan," you interrupted, you hadn't seen this side of him before, "-are you alright?"

He stood completely still, eyes flicking to yours -hair sticking up in a mess, shirt still ripped. He looked a little deranged, not the worse you'd ever seen, but... there was something in his eyes -a gleam.

You couldn't tell what it was.

"No," he finally answered.

"Are you-" you started, now suddenly darting over the blood (was some of it his?) "-Are you hurt? Did you get checked by-"

"Love," he sighed out, hands raking through his hair, "-you almost died. Do you not hear that? Fuckin' dead, gone-"

"Tan-"

"No, no, no-" he shook his hand, exasperated, in disbelief, "-if I hadn't called, you would be fuckin' dead, Mouse."

"Tangerine."

"What the hell were you bloody doin' there?" He finished succinctly, eyebrows gathered -frustrated.

"A job," you spoke, tone questioning, "-What the hell is your problem?"

"You shouldn’t have fuckin' been there," he nearly growled out, "-that's my problem."

"My intel was wrong," you exhaled, stiff -if he was angry, you would be too, "-I couldn't have known. You think I wanted to solo a whole building of security?"

You trailed off, settling back into the bed -your head was starting to hurt; this was not what you had wanted. Far fucking from it.

He sighed, a big long sigh, briefly pressing his fingers on his temples, "Look, Mouse-"

You didn't look at him, eyes trained on your hands, and the blanket spanned across your lap. You wouldn't give him the dignity of looking at him, not when he was just being a dick.

"I'm not mad at you," his voice was lower now, "-just whoever sent you on that fuckin' suicide mission."

"'Could've fooled me," you scoffed, twisting your arms into a crossed position.

Tangerine sighed again, roaming closer to your bedside and falling to his knees to meet your face better, "Mouse, love, look at me."

You kept your eyes on your hands.

"Mouse, please."

You pursed your lips, he hardly pulled out the please -this was bigger than what you thought it was. Your eyes landed succinctly on his, blue -so blue- already looking at you with something of remorse. Huh.

"I'm sorry," he started, slow with one hand reached up to run through his hair again, "-I know I'm being a fuckin' dick."

"Good guess," you hummed.

"Right, yeah," he shook his head, lips curling up at the corners, "-Look, I... Fuck, I..."

"Tangerine," you put a hand on his shoulder, he was close enough now, "-seriously, what is wrong? I've never seen you like this."

He swallowed, dryly, and you almost offered him your water -he'd been doing that a lot lately.

"You almost died," he repeated.

"Tan, we're not talking about me," you responded, "-I think we both know what happened-"

"Love," he interrupted, repeating again, "-you almost died."

You raised a brow, questioning -confused really, "What does that have to do with-"

"I wouldn't have known," he breathed out, shaky and tone the same, "-you were going to fuckin' die and I wouldn't have known, ya know 'at?"

This was new to you, Tangerine looked shaken, scared. When had he ever been so broken open in front of you, so... so desperate? It was like he cracked open his ribs and you were staring at his heart.

"Tan, I didn't mean to-"

"I would've fuckin'-" he laughed a little, and it was wet -there were tears in the corners of his eyes, "-I'd 'ave heard it through the fuckin' grapevine."

"Tan," you were too soft to stop him.

"Do you know why 'at's fucked up? Truly, do you?"

"Because we're... friends?" You asked, with a lilt -you weren't sure, and even though you felt something you couldn't push that on him. No matter how bad it hurt.

"Fuckin' friends," he laughed, looking up at the ceiling -his eyes were definitely teary, you realized.

"Why are you-"

"Darling, tell me this," he spoke, looking at you now -blue eyes intense on yours, "-do you think I would've grieved you as a fuckin' booty call or a... a friend?"

"I don't..." you spoke, "-I don't know, Tan."

"No, truly, love," he echoed, voice quiet and barely there, "-do you think I would 'ave?"

You fell silent, eyes sliding over his face -the storm of his eyes. It wasn't like a thunderstorm, not angry, just a rain -a dark, heavy rain. You wanted them to be light again, sunny.

You pursed your lips, flicking over his face -there was something different there, something smoothed across his features that you had never seen before. It was something.

"No," you answered finally.

"And you ask me, you ask me-" he started, tears built up now -he blinked them away, "-if I'm okay?"

You didn't say a word.

"You almost-" Tangerine continued, voice breaking as he tilted his head down and took a deep breath.

"Tan," you spoke, softly -something burning in the backs of your own eyes.

"You almost died in my fuckin' arms, Mouse."

"But I didn't," you echoed, "-I didn't. I'm alive, you saved me-"

And then in the tiniest voice you'd heard from him, he looked at you, teary-eyed and exhausted, "Why didn't you call me?"

"Tangerine, I-" you started, "-I didn't know if it... if you-"

"I would've picked up," he spoke, firm and decisive, something biting in his tone, "-If you were halfway across the fuckin' world, I would've found a fuckin' way."

"That's not-" you started, before sighing, "-I didn't know if it mattered to you."

"Mattered to me?" His voice echoed in disbelief, "-If you... You didn't know if your death would've mattered to me?"

"No," you answered, "-I really didn't. I thought... Well, I thought both of you would be fine-"

"Fuckin' fine?" He spilled out, "-You think I would've been fine?"

"I didn't know," you reasoned, "-it wasn't... none of it was... We never talked about it."

"God, I'm the fuckin' stupidest person on this goddamn planet," he breathed out -a mutter, but you still caught it. He was really close to you in this position, you could hear the inhale of his breaths.

"Darling," he spoke, something pent up in his eyes -ready to spill, "-I can hardly function without you. And you think- You really fuckin' think that I wouldn't have cared if you died?"

"I didn't know," you explained, "-I didn't know anything, Tan. We never- We never talked about this, it was simple, easy."

"Well, it's about to get really fuckin' complicated, isn't it?"

"What are you-" you started -confused.

"Consider this me talkin' about it, yeah?" He spoke, looking straight at you -not waiting for an answer, "-The idea of you dying makes me fuckin' sick. 'Makes my whole body feel like my heart fell out of my fuckin' chest, and left a cold, empty shell of a man. Yeah? If you died, I think I wouldn't be able to breathe anymore-"

"Tangerine-" you swallowed back tears.

He continued, "And frankly, the idea of it happenin' has kept me up at night. The idea of it happenin' and me not knowin', not even bein' there- I can't even begin to fuckin' fathom."

"Tangerine-"

"I can't be here without you," he finished, softer and quieter, "-I can hardly fuckin' leave you without it feelin' like I've left a fuckin' limb. A piece of me."

You couldn't speak, tears bubbling up your throat. He stared at you, and all you could do was stare back -eyes unwavering; you wondered distantly where his head was at.

"So, yeah," he cleared his throat -righting himself, "-I would care if you died. 'Would care a fuckin' lot."

"I didn't..." you began, tears burning your eyes -something heavy in your chest, "-I didn't know that."

"Yeah, I know," he replied, a little bluntly, "-you ever see me as fuckin' feelings guy? No, but even still I should've told you a long fuckin' time ago because this-"

His hand motioned to you in the bed.

"This was a fuckin'... worst-case scenario for me."

"I'm sorry," you whispered -you couldn't imagine the pain, if he... if he meant all that.

"You're sorry?" His eyes were attentive on you again, big blue and concerned, guilty, "-no, love, there's nothin' to be sorry for. I... I should've said somethin', I doubt you would've ever been in this state if I had."

"I'd-" you echoed out, "-I'd still have the same job, Tan."

"I would've gone with you," he spoke, "-or been closer... I-I would've fuckin' driven the getaway car if you'd let me."

You paused, eyes flickering over his face -that unnamed thing, you knew it now. It seemed so obvious. Every word he said bounced off your head as it echoed in your mind; he'd said so much, you could read in-between the lines for the rest of it.

"Tangerine?" You hummed.

"Yeah?" His voice was gruff, spent.

"I love you too."

He grinned then, all crow's feet and upturned lips -you'd never seen something so bright. Not from him. Maybe it wouldn't be the last one.

"Thank fuckin' god," he groaned out, "-I really don't know what I was goin' to do if you didn't."

You laughed, a little shy -this was all so new, "Well, good thing you don't have to, yeah?"

"Yeah," he finished, still smiling -his hand came to hold yours for a moment, careful even though you weren't hurt there.

Tangerine seemed thoughtful for a moment, before raising your hand to his lips, "I'm really fuckin' glad you're alright, love."

"Yeah, me too."

He opened his mouth to say something else, but the door swinging open cut it short.

"You lot done yet?" Lemon asked, head sticking in the door, "-I've been waitin' out here like 20 minutes. The nurses are startin' to look at me weird-"

Tangerine sighed from beside you, as you spoke, "Come on in, Lemon. Lovely to see you by the way."

He stepped fully in then, your eyes catching on the takeout boxes in the bags he held, "So polite, unsure why you ever liked him."

"Right," Tangerine rolled his eyes, "-Do we 'ave to start this now?"

"You see?" Lemon raised a hand, "-This is how he treats me, yeah? I bring 'im food and I'm fuckin' shot do-"

"Is there something for me?" You questioned, you had honestly never been so hungry in your life -probably your body healing and whatnot.

"'Is there something for you?' Of course, Mouse, I'm very thoughtful like 'at," Lemon smiled, "-unlike this bloke, yeah?"

"Lemon," Tangerine hissed.

"Told ya," he responded, taking a seat in one of the extra chairs on the other side of you.

"I'll fuckin' bite your head off, you know 'at? Rip you limb from limb-"

"Boys, seriously," you groaned, "-can you agree on anything?"

"You need a new handler," Lemon spoke -already eating his meal, to which Tangerine reluctantly nodded.

"Well-"

"And you're with us now," Tangerine offered up, "-anywhere you go, we go."

Lemon nodded, pointing to his brother like in solidarity, "Agreed."

"Guys, really? That's what you-"

"You know how pouty he's gonna be if you aren't?" Lemon retorted, handing Tangerine both his and your boxes -movement fluid right over you.

"I don't fuckin' pout," he murmured, opening the box and setting it on your table -before settling into his chair with his own.

"No, don't even start that shit," Lemon replied, "-you haven't said a full word to me in the last two weeks!"

"That wasn't pouting-"

"What would you call it then, sulking?"

"I'll kill you, Lemon, don't fuckin' start it-"

"Enough you two," you yelled out, not loud enough to attract any unwanted attention, but enough to shut them both up.

You sighed out a big long breath and righted yourself -grabbing a forkful on the food.

"Now," you hummed, grinning at the two of them, "-where are we off to next?"

They raised an eyebrow.

"If I'm staying with you," you repeated, "-where are we going next?"

Tangerine furrowed his brow like it was common sense, "Nowhere, love, you're healing."

"Tan-"

"Seconded," Lemon raised his hand, "-he's already got a place and everythin' might as well give it to 'im."

"When did you-"

"Not important," Tangerine clarified, before turning to his brother, "-See, how hard was that? To fuckin' support me?"

"You're one to talk, mate."

You were really gonna have to get used to this.

Then Tangerine, almost instinctively, scooted his chair forward -placing his box next to yours on the table and with the confidence of a million men, intertwined your hands.

It couldn't have been comfortable, both with the hospital bed barriers and eating with one hand, but he treated it like it was nothing at all. Like he'd do it 100 times over for you.

Okay, you thought to yourself, you could definitely get used to this.

#temporary fix #tangerine bullet train #tangerine x reader #bullet train #tangerine x y/n #tangerine x you #tangerine #tan's things

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