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#bullet train lemon
sebsbarnes · 5 months
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co-workers || tangerine
tangerine x female reader (assassin)
summary: "if it took you getting shot for you two to finally, maybe, realize you like each other i would've used you as target practice a long time ago."
warnings: language, violence, fighting, injuries, blood, weapons
word count: 3.4k ; angst, fluff
tangerine masterlist
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rocking back and forth on your heels you patiently wait for the bullet train to zip into the shinagawa station. the platform was moderately busy, people dressed for various occasions. some in sophisticated work uniforms, kids bopping along with their school bags, and some dressed for a night out. you, however, were not.
sporting a black jacket, long sleeve turtleneck, leggings, sneakers, and a black bag you could've faded into the growing dark sky but here you are illuminated by the neon lights of the platform begrudgingly watching the bullet train's head lights fly past as it rolled into the station.
you were ordered to be here by your employer at the request of the white death. something about his son and a briefcase of money that needed some extra eyes watching over. apparently, the white death had some gut intuition about the two unnamed men he had hired for the job and wanted your skills onboard. your employer gave you very little detail about what to expect, no description of the briefcase, a grainy photo sent via email of the white death's son who had horrid face tattoos in your personal opinion, and when asked about the men already tasked to the mission your employer replied, 'eh two guys both kind of weird' and left it at that.
you boarded the train and stood near the doors, tight lipped smiling at those who walked by, waiting for the entryway to be clear. kneeling you pulled a small revolver out of a false bottom in the bag and slipped it into an inside pocket of your jacket, next pulling extra rounds and stuffing them into the other available pocket. you fumbled with a small piece of crumbled paper telling you to go to car three and a seat number that the son should be at.
quietly making your way to car three you re-patted your now stuffed pockets, adjusting your jacket and hair to relieve any sort of budding nerves. that is until you noticed the two kind of weird guys your employer told you about.
"well, can spot that fitted suit from a fuckin' city away" the two men stood in front of you who were deep in conversation snapped their necks towards you.
"well darling, and i'd spot that shit box dyed hair from the other side of the fuckin' earth" you couldn't help your arm raising to touch your long, and well dyed hair, at tangerine's rebuttal.
you tried to hide the laugh that threatened to break through as the three of you stood quiet for a few seconds following his comment. lemon broke first pushing past his brother to embrace you in a hug, "haven't see you in a minute, was beginning to get worried."
the three of you knew each other quite well, hell, the three of you lived together for a while. you had been under tangerine and lemon's employer for a long time but shit happens and it was best you found a new employer. lemon was more talkative and affectionate of the two, constantly talking your ear off and giving you hugs whenever he saw you, strictly friends though. tangerine, well, not affectionate and not talkative. it took a while for tangerine to mutter more than five words to you for the longest time. being outright friendly just isn't his nature and you can't fault him for that. the twins cared about you deeply, you knew lemon did within a week. tangerine took more time. it wasn't at the flip of a switch, it was gradual, perhaps may be even more natural.
it was a culmination of things that made you realize the rough man cared and appreciated you. like how after a job the three of you would go eat, you would jokingly (but also quite seriously) say how you were still starving. tangerine would slip you some of his food, 'not that hungry' he'd shrug. or how on missions he unconsciously used himself as a shield for your protection. or when he would come back from being out, holding a plastic bag in hand. 'saw these figured you might need 'em' plopping the bag in front of your seated position at the kitchen table and continued walking before you could comment on the new clothes that replaced the ones recently destroyed on a job.
or how days before you left the previous employer, you, tangerine, lemon, and an additional guy were assigned to a job that did not go so smoothly. it really was no one's fault, no one could've predicted how many men were hiding in the warehouse. each of you sported numerous injuries and lost many weapons but still completed the job. you and the other assassin were alone sitting on the floor when he suddenly started berating you. saying how shit you were as an assassin, spewing hatred and profanities amongst other vile things. you had no energy to fight back, 'maybe you're right' is all you could muster before getting up and searching for a secluded place to sleep for the night. you had awoken from your sleep hours later to the sound of a gunshot, wandering until you found someone.
'tangerine, what was that? i heard a gunshot' you asked the man who was promptly walking away from scaffolding towers.
he looked at you quizzically wiping his hands on his trousers, 'i think you might have been dreaming darlin'' all you could do was rub your head in confusion, 'let's get you back to bed, love.' the next morning only three of you returned from the mission.
"i've missed you, lemon," you smiled pulling away, holding his shoulders to look at him.
you and tangerine exchanged small nods, a hint of a smile ghosting his lips. you turned towards the figure seated beside the men stepping to stand in front of who you assume to be the white death's son. to say something seemed off was an understatement. you gently grabbed the ends of his open jacket bobbing his head back.
"what the fuck?!" you jerked back dropping your grip as his body slumped forward. an older woman a few seats up shushed you.
"what the fuck?!" you whispered harshly at the twins, bug-eyed gesturing rapidly at the dead body in front of you.
"ask fuckin' percy over here," tangerine pointed to lemon.
"i'm not percy?! okay yeah i lost the case but i didn't kill the kid."
"well lemon, if you didn't have the brilliant fucking idea to stash the case, we would've been sat our squeaky fuckin' asses down in the seat not havin' to get up. young. sweet. not all there." tangerine hissed back, poking at lemon's forehead to emphasize.
mildly entertained by the twins infamous banter you sat down watching the two go back and forth before tangerine swiveled towards you both hands flat, palms up, pointing at you, "and no disrespect love, but why the hell are you here?"
"to babysit essentially. i'm here to make sure you two do your job and by the looks of it you done fucked that up. what an honor it will be to be ripped limb by limb by the white death with you idiots."
the three of you sat deliberating what the hell to do next and tried figuring out who else is on this train taking interest in the briefcase and the son. tangerine cleaned up the boy's face with his handkerchief and adorned his face with momonga glasses to hide the fact that he's well...dead.
the twins decided it would be effective splitting up and checking the train cars for the briefcase.
"ill stay here," you spoke as the two men grabbed their things to investigate the train.
"what?" tangerine asked eyebrows knotting together.
"i'll stay here. i'll see if anyone comes back for him," gesturing towards the limp body, "besides, my mission is a bit different. i'm not supposed to be seeking danger. if it comes my way then i can step in."
tangerine smooth out his moustache inhaling deeply seeming to oppose you being here by yourself.
"okay well, right then." lemon nodded stalking off down the train.
tangerine hesitated looking down at you in the seat.
"i'll be okay."
that is until ten minutes later a man sat across from you, "hi. there's a gun under this table."
"shhh," you hissed, "this is the quiet car babes."
the man in the hat and glasses took a moment to look over your shoulder at the sign, you took this opportunity to grab his hand, that held no gun, underneath the table yanking his body forward, table smashing into his shoulder.
"who the hell are you." you questioned, still holding onto his hand.
"ladybug. johannesburg, remember? your buddy shot me after you baited me to the parking garage?"
"so you're after the twins?" you asked ignoring what he said.
"the twins have a briefcase i need. i'm really not looking for trouble here miss, i just want to get the hell off this train and go meditate." he sighed taking his free hand through his longer hair.
"so you took the damn briefcase." you released his hand and brought your foot up to kick him in the groin. while he was hunched over in pain you stood up launching towards him to put him in a headlock, "where's the case."
"look lady," he sputtered, "i really don't want to hurt you."
ladybug punched your forearms to loosen your grip and when you didn't budge, he turned his head to bite your wrist.
"what the fuck!" you yelped springing back. he took this moment to sweep your legs out from underneath you. you hit the floor with a loud thud, the ache in your shoulder radiating down your arm. he leaned over your body giving you a weak smile and in return you kicked him in the face, blood instantly pouring out of his nose.
"shit balls!" he exclaimed. you clamored to your feet and started running throughout the bullet train. ladybug's steps got closer and closer and that's when you felt a burning hot sensation on the back of your shoulder. your movement immediately stopped, groaning as you reached for the knife in your back pulling it out.
"prick." you hissed turning around to face the man. your arm swiped in front of his face, the blade making a whooshing noise in the air. you managed to clip the side of his cheek.
thankfully the car the two of you were now fighting in was not occupied. he gripped your arm throwing you against the wall and stalked towards you. you stashed the blade in your pocket, shrugging your jacket to the ground, opting to fight him with your fists. you dodged the first hit and returned him a hit in the jaw. he staggered and taking advantage of his lower stance punched you in the stomach.
"i don't like hurting women." ladybug exasperated as the two of you continued fighting, punches being thrown, skin being split, bodies flying across the car.
"seems like you're in the wrong line of work, dumbass," you gripped the back of his head slamming his face into the top of one of the seats. the crack you heard made you wince. ladybug's forehead was split, blood running down his face into his eye.
it was obvious his physical state was weakening. he swallowed deeply, eyes flickering to a spot beyond you. before you realized what was happening, ladybug was running towards your jacket where the knife was. he managed to grab it and came barreling towards you. once again the battle was back on. the knife dancing between you two as its ownership changed frequently. you and ladybug were a panting mess with new cuts decorating your bodies. this old piece of shit wouldn't let up. you were becoming exhausted and you needed this to end somehow. the two of you were both on the floor, the blade in your hand. you knew you didn't have enough stamina for another round of fighting, the cuts scattering your body were aching, the large stab wound to your shoulder was now numb. instead, you sliced the closest things to you that would cause the most damage.
his achilles.
ladybug screamed out in pain, shaking hands wrapping themselves around his ankles in some attempt to soothe the sheering pain. you stood, looking over the man, the blood from the knife dripping onto your shoe. you stepped around his cradled body, making your way up the train. tangerine hasn't come past yet meaning he is still ahead. the door swished open but you'd only make it one step in before crumbling to the ground.
immediately you started hyperventilating from the intense pain that seemed to hit every nerve in your body. blinking rapidly as you scooted yourself against the wall. then you felt it. a warm sensation running down your skin, your clothes feeling wet. blood. your body was shaking, open lips huffed out puffs of breath. slowly and carefully, you looked back at ladybug.
your gun in his hands.
he must have grabbed it when he retrieved the knife in your abandoned jacket. fucking stupid.
ahead in the train tangerine heard a faint noise, but nonetheless he knew it was a gunshot. he slicked back his hair and removed his gun from his waistband. he carefully entered each train car, observing anything out of the ordinary. the door in front of him opened and his step faltered when he saw a black sneaker, and then a leg, and then the body as his eyes raked up the slumped figure.
he dropped to his knees, gun now on the floor, "hey tan," you croaked.
"bloody hell," he sighed, his eyes darting across your entire body.
"stop checking me out i don't look my best," you tried joking. tangerine didn't seem amused as he noticed your torn clothes, bloody face, your hair matted with blood.
"that old bag of bones can really fight. but he took a cheap shot when my back was to him," you finally answered. you lifted the hem of your shirt to show tangerine the bullet hole in your lower stomach above your hip.
"jesus," he muttered swallowing thickly. he seemed stunned to see you in this condition. he also seemed lost on what to do. his eyes wouldn't stop looking you over, his hands unconsciously went to your face brushing your hair out of your eyes.
"tangerine stop fucking staring at her we need to help her," lemon had found the two of you. his voice booming causing tangerine to snap out of his daze.
lemon pushed him to the side, immediately coming to your aid. he worked with what he could find. your shallow cuts weren't important. the wound to your shoulder would need stitches later on. the entrance and exit wound of the bullet was causing the biggest issue as you had lost a decent amount of blood from it. lemon continued to do his best as you sat there eyelids half open.
tangerine was silent, more silent than ever before, as if he were stuck in a trance. you slowly moved your fingers towards his hand that was resting on the floor. two of your fingers wrapped around his pinky jerking him out of his trance. this somehow sparked something in him as he shot up from the floor, grabbing his gun making sure it was loaded and set off on a mission you could only assume to be to find ladybug.
your lips pulled down in a frown as he left. you wanted him here. his presence, his touch, his whatever. any semblance of that cocky man you wanted next to you for comfort. you knew you were going to be okay, you were weak right now but the thought of him beside you somehow made you believe you would feel stronger.
lemon let out a soft chuckle as he finished securing cloth to your wound, "if it took you getting shot for you two to finally, maybe, realize you like each other i would've used you as target practice a long time ago."
you slapped his arm, "fuck off."
lemon and you agreed you need to rest, he helped you to sit in an empty seat, propping you against the window.
"alright, now, if anything serious happens i will text you alright. in the meantime, sit here and wait till we come get you, you hear me?" lemon demanded.
sometime had passed and you noticed less and less people on the platforms boarding the train. it was too quiet. your stomach was telling you something was off. you winced in pain as you gripped the armrest to stand up. a bit wobbly but you managed to put one foot in front of the other. as you continued you heard voices close by. the doors to one of the cars was open by bags tripping the sensors. you saw a young girl in pink standing looking scared and him. the greasy haired prick who shot you. he still had your gun in his hand pointed at someone.
tangerine.
"fuck." thankfully you held onto the knife and before he could notice you moving towards their train car you brought your arm over your head, swinging forward, releasing the knife. it lodged itself below ladybug's collarbone. he yelped out in pain stumbling a bit and that's when his finger hit the trigger.
"you bastard," tangerine hissed as the bullet hit his leg.
you took this opportunity while the men were distracted and ran towards ladybug. you propelled yourself onto him, spinning and wrapping your legs around his neck, you removed the blade from his chest and stuck it in the base of his neck.
"you don't touch him," you spit at the man as he crumbled to the ground.
the girl was long gone. now facing tangerine you noticed all the bruises and blood on him, drenched in sweat. his curly hair now laying across his forehead. his jacket long gone leaving him in a white button down that was criminally low on his chest and a vest. you couldn't help but check him out.
he started to say your name but you cut him off, hugging him tightly around his neck, knocking the wind out of him. he hesitated a moment before firming wrapping his arms around your waist, tucking his head into your hair. after a few minutes he pulled back, sliding his hands to your waist to look at you. you held onto tangerine's elbows as his eyes wandered your face.
"darlin'," he started, "i'm- i'm sorry i didn't do anything when i found ya."
you chuckled through your nose, "tan. i'm fine."
"you're injured n' i didn't do anything except fuckin' look at you." he shook his head in disgust.
"tangerine," you said firmly placing your hands on his chest, "stop. i am fine. i am okay. we all react differently to seeing our friends hurt."
"friends, " he half laughed, "you realize i don't see you as a friend."
you paused, hands loosening their grip on his arms. god, you were dumb to think you were even friends. you're coworkers, hell at this point maybe even acquaintances, its been five months since you lived with them. all you could mutter was a shaky 'oh.'
tangerine laughed, "you know love, you can really be dense sometimes."
your mouth formed an 'o' trying to figure out what to say next, "dense?"
"love, i've wanted you the moment you almost sniped my head off in vienna." tangerine chuckled, moving hair out of your face. you couldn't look at him instead you toyed with his open shirt, fingers brushing against his hot skin.
"i guess i am kinda dumb right? should've put the pieces together when you killed anyone who was mean to me." you smiled.
he leaned down gently placing a kiss on your lips. you immediately kissed back, tasting the metallic flavor of the blood that was on his lower lip. your nails ran across his scalp sending a shiver down his spine. tangerine gripped your lower back harder, minding the wound, to bring you in as close as physically possible.
tangerine pulled away from the kiss, bringing his mouth to your ear, "by the way darlin', you spinning around on his neck and what you said was really hot."
"then i suggest we get the fuck off this train soon and i'll show you the move personally."
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pretty-little-mind33 · 3 months
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Dress
Tangerine x fem!reader
Summary: Your best friends promised never to tell you about their dangerous job. However, all goes to shit when you find out another way.
Genre: Angsty fluff (happy ending)
Warnings: protective!Tangerine, home invasion, mentions of blood and injuries, swearing, sexual innuendo/implying sexual harassment (really not as bad as that sounds lol i would just rather put a warning)? murder, violence…
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Tangerine always knew you were too kind for the life he had chosen.
He wonders if he hadn't known you so long or if you weren't as much Lemon's best friend as his, then perhaps it would have been an easy decision to cut you out of their lives.
Only, the decision wasn't easy. It was selfish and it eats him up inside, but both him and Lemon had agreed they couldn't lose you. So, they'd made a deal that they wouldn't tell you the true nature of their job. That way, you would be safe. 
You, on the other hand, aren't as innocent as they think. You've known them long enough to know their expressions and whenever you mention their profession, they become eerily silent and tense. You've seen the blood under Lemon's fingernails and the bruises on Tangerine's knuckles when they visit you after one of their so-called "work trips".
However, after countless evasions on their part, you've stopped asking questions. Now, you stay content without knowing because you don't want to lose them either. 
One evening, you hear a knock on your apartment door and your smile widens. He's early. He's usually never early. You stand up from the couch, pulling up your fuzzy sock as you rush over the wooden floorboards to open the door for him. "Hi," you start but your throat locks when you're met with three burly men in black, threatening, masks. 
You don't have time to scream out as one of them presses his hand against your mouth and forces himself inside. The other two follow quickly and you stumble backwards. The man holding you presses his gun into your side and you whimper, tears falling down your cheeks as your mind races. 
Another man hands you what looks like a burner phone from his pocket and says, "Call him."
Your vision is blurred by your tears and when the man's hand leaves your mouth, you ask. "Who?"
"You know who, girl," the last man laughs and your chest tightens. Your hands are shaky when you type out Tangerine's number. You have an icky in your stomach telling you he hadn't been the one to ask you to hang out this evening.
Hesitantly, you hold the phone to your ear and whimper when the man with the gun pushes you over to your couch. He sits closer than necessary and teasingly moves the barrel against your cheeks and up into your hair.
"Hello?" Tangerine answers, his voice hoarse. Your heart leaps hearing him. It doesn't matter how mad he sounds because it's his voice. He'll make sure no one hurts you.
You turn to the men, as if asking them what you should say. All three of them smirk and the one holding you just shrugs.
"T-tan," you whisper, your hold tightening on the phone. Your voice comes out as shaky as your hands. You want to scream but as the seriousness of the situation sinks in, you can't make your mouth work properly. 
"Y/n? Is that you, love?" Tangerine sounds much more awake now, the annoyance in his tone completely gone. 
You're the only person who calls him Tan. 
"I-I don't know who — and I don't know what they want from me, but t-they have a gun," your word vomit tears a whimper from your throat and you hear curses and movement from the other side of the line. "And I'm so scared. Please, h-help me. I need you."
Suddenly, the phone is ripped from your hands and you let out a shriek of surprise and then another whimper when the gun is pressed to your temple to shut you up. The man chuckles darkly and his arm slides around you so you don't dare make another sound.
"Yes, yeah, we know—mmhmm, yes, we will be waiting with your little friend here," the man holding the phone grins at you, "She's a pretty one, ain't she? Such gorgeous eyes when they're all glossy with tears—" he chuckles, "well shove one up yours too. Don't fucking make us hurt her. You know what we want, bring us the money and she'll survive. Yeah, yeah." 
He grunts and throws the phone across the room, causing you to jump as the other man holding you presses the gun harder into your temple.
The man who was just on the phone pinches his nose and mutters, "Bloody fuck," he turns to you and points his index finger accusingly, "You're a lucky girl, you know. Because, if we didn't really need that money, you would have a bullet stuck in that fucking pretty head of yours for the way your boyfriend speaks to me."
You shiver, wincing. You can tell the man means it. "He's not my boyfriend," you whisper. 
"Whatever, darling," he rolls his eyes and leans forward to take your arm, "Just be a good girl for us and shut up."
* * *
Tangerine feels like he's living his worst nightmare. As soon as he heard your voice on the line, from a masked number, he couldn't think straight anymore. He's currently trying to unlock the drawer where he keeps his gun, fumbling as furious tears prickle in his eyes. 
He can't shake the sound of you crying out his name. He sees you, your skin bruised and bloody as tears stream down your cheeks and he wants to punch his fist through the drawer.
He should have protected you from this. He should have known. 
Lemon walks into his room, frowning when he sees how distressed his brother is. "Woah, mate, what's wrong?"
Tangerine finally thrusts the drawer open and shoves his gun in the back of his pants. He stands and runs a hand through his hair, rushing towards the door. His voice is strained when he says, "Someone has Y/n. They're hurting her." 
Lemon's entire face drops. "W-what? H-how?"
"I don't fuckin' know," Tangerine snaps, "Now, are you fuckin' coming or not?"
* * *
You shift your hand, the ropes burning against your wrists, as you sit on the ground of your bathroom. Blood trickles down your eyebrows from when one of the men hit you and slammed your head into the sink.
The gag they had used cuts painfully into the sides of your mouth. The men had used a pair of your panties they'd found in your dresser and bound the lace around your head, finding it hilarious. You didn't find it funny, the embarrassment still lingering as you sit in the darkness of the bathroom.
Suddenly, the faint laughter from the men in your living room stops and, after a moment, you hear loud crashes. You jump, squeezing your eyes shut as you listen intensely. You hear the slamming of doors until the bathroom door opens and you hear a familiar, "Fuck."
Your eyes snap open and Tangerine kneels in front of you. He quickly unties your panties from around your mouth, his eyes dark with anger and his eyebrows scrunch with worry. You whimper, embarrassed by him seeing you like this. He tosses your panties to the side, not commenting on them but fuming inside as he cups your cheeks gently and inspects your injuries. 
"Shit, does it hurt, love?" he asks, looking at the cut on your forehead and the bruises littered across your skin.
You train your eyes on his appearance. Sweat beads at his hair and splatters of fresh blood adorn his cheeks. It doesn't look like it's his considering he looks unharmed. Tangerine looks you over quickly. "I- did they touch you?" he asks hesitantly, insinuating something from the panties in your mouth and he is clearly a little nervous to know the answer. 
You shake your head and his eyes soften. "Oh, thank fuckin' god. I'm so sorry," he says and unties your hands, wasting no time scooping you up into his arms. You lean your head on his chest, still too shocked to form any words. Tangerine places his hand over your eyes as he walks into the living room and you hear shuffling and curses from what sounds like Lemon.
You turn to look but Tangerine keeps your head still and soothes you, "Shhh, you're okay, c'mon," 
Cold air hits you and you hear Tangerine open the door to his car. He places you inside and kisses your forehead. He kneels next to the car and his thumb touches near your cut, his eyes still dark with anger. "I have to check something with Lemon," he says again and his heart breaks when you grab his arm, 
"Please, don't l-leave me," you manage to ask, your voice hoarse.
Tangerine rests his hand on yours and tries to explain, "I won't be long, darlin'. I can't leave Lemon in there alone but we'll be quick. Trust me."
On any other day you would wait for a better time to bring this up, but your mind is still all fuzzy so you whisper, "Trust you? H-how can I trust you after what happened?" you see the hurt and guilt written on his face as the truth in your words sink in. 
Tangerine has never been good with strong emotions. He doesn't like them. They make him feel weak. You watch as his expression hardens and he looks into your eyes. "I'm sorry, Y/n," he says but mechanically closes the car door on you. You hear a lock and Tangerine disappears into your building again. All you can do is bury your face in your hands and cry.
Later, Tangerine is pacing his room. He hasn't changed out of his bloody clothes and he hasn't calmed down since they'd showed you to the guest room.
You'd asked to be alone and while that was understandable, he's worried sick. Lemon is sitting on his bed, which would usually annoy him because he'd made it that morning, but Tangerine couldn't care less about that right now.
"I basically slammed the door in her face! How could I have done that?" he's obviously panicking. 
"You had to come help me clean the scene. You did the only thing you could think of," Lemon tries to reasons, something he's been doing for the last twenty minutes.
"I- I shut her out. She probably hates me."
"Y/n could never hate you. She loves you."
Tangerine lets out a groan of frustration and turns to look at Lemon, his eyes round. "Don't you understand that's the fuckin' problem? I love her. I fuckin' love her and I've been lying to her all these years and now she's hurt because of it. It's all fucked, fuck, fuck, fuck."
Lemon stares at his brother with a deadpan look on his face. "I cannot believe you just admitted you love her."
"Pardon?"
"You're in love with her. It's been eating at you for years now. It's fucking obvious, I just didn't think you were this self-aware," Lemon rolls his eyes and stands up.
He walks over to Tangerine and crosses his arms. "Shit, mate, what are you even doing in here? Y/n was just attacked in her home and she doesn't understand why. She's probably scared shitless and tending to her wounds all alone —
After you disappeared in here like a baby I asked if she needed help and she said no, but you aren't the only one who is her best friend. I know her. She doesn't want to be alone, you idiot, she just didn't want me. She wants you." 
Tangerine feels like his heart has been beaten up to a pulp and he can barely breathe. He doesn't speak and he leaves his bedroom in a hurry.
As he walks to the guest room, he feels like he's in a daze. He knows he should but he doesn't knock on the door when he rushes in. He finds you sitting on the ground, dressed in one of his shirts he must have left in the guest room by accident, applying some alcohol to the wound on your head.
Your tears have dried but when you look at him, he sees how bloodshot your eyes are and he wants to kill those men all over again.
He doesn't speak as he crouches down and pulls you into a hug. He wraps his arms around your body and holds you tightly. He hears your small sigh as you wrap your arms around his torso. Tangerine doesn't care when you unconsciously climb into his lap and hug him closer. He nuzzles his head in your neck and kisses your exposed shoulder. He's never given you this type of intimacy and while his head is screaming at him to run from you, his heart won't let him. 
"It was so scary," you whimper against him. 
He cups your head with his hand as he soothes you, "I know, darlin', I know it was. I promise you're safe now. I'm here. 'm not leaving you, doll. I'm so sorry this happened," he pulls away and caresses his large hands down your face, brushing some hair from your eyes. 
"Why'd you open the door, darlin'? You'know you can't open the door to strangers, mm?"
He isn't blaming you, he just wants to know. 
You avoid his eyes. "I thought it was you."
Tangerine frowns.
"I think they somehow sent me a text from your phone and it said you wanted to come over and I-I said yes," you feel your cheeks burn and Tangerine anger bubbles. They'd used him to hurt you. He leans his forehead on yours as you continue. "I did think it was a little weird, but I—"
Tangerine wipes at your new tears with his thumb, interrupting you, "It's okay. You couldn't have known. I'm so sorry."
"I should have known," you whisper.
"No," he shakes his head, pressing his lips to your forehead. "I should have prepared you for something like this. Lemon and I should have warned you."
You lean your head on his chest again, your breathing harsh. "I knew your job was dangerous, but I didn't think you were killing people," you whisper and you feel Tangerine tense. He rubs his hand up and down your back. 
"I-" he doesn't know what he can say to you. 
You pull away and look into his eyes, "I don't want to know," you say, "not today. Not now. You can tell me later but now I want you to hold me and tell me it'll be okay." Tangerine nods, you sound a little in shock, but your voice is serious. 
"And I want you to kiss me."
Your words almost knock Tangerine out.
"Fucking pardon?" he says, instantly regretting cursing.
You move to hold his cheeks in your hands, leaning in closer. You wait for him to make the first move, your heart beating as quickly as his is.
You don't care about his job, or that he'd lied to you, and you know he's probably not an honorable man like you'd wished him to be, but none of that matters because you need to feel his lips on yours.
You need to know he's here.
Tangerine closes his eyes and kisses you. His entire body feels like it's on fire and if he thinks too hard, he might combust into ashes. His hands find your waist and his head tilts so he can kiss you better.
Fuck this. He's so in love with you.
You kiss him back with more passion and he almost loses his mind. If he had lost you today he would have burned the entire world to make those men pay. Killing them would have never been enough.
You pull away, tears streaming down your cheeks. You look into Tangerine's blue eyes. You want to tell him you love him. You're in love with him. However, no words can leave your lips.
Tangerine sees your expression and wipes his thumb under your eye. He stands and pulls you up with him as he whispers, "Shh, you don't need to talk. You need sleep."
He looks at your wound again, making sure it's clean and then cups your cheeks and tilts them upwards so he has your attention. "Lemon and I are just around the hall, okay? I- I lo-," his sentence dies and he starts a new one, "I lo-oked over your injury and it shouldn't hurt that much anymore but if it does, you know where my room is."
Tangerine leans down and presses one last kiss to your lips. He pulls away and says, "You're safe now, my darlin'. Okay? Nothing will ever happen to you again. I promise."
He says it with such security, you nod again. Your lips tingle from his and you savor the moment, wrapping your arms around him. Tangerine is surprised but he kisses your head and whispers just quietly enough for you to miss it, 
"I love you," 
And for the first time in his life, those three words don't stay clogged in his throat. Tangerine's shoulders relax and he sighs. One day soon he'll be able to say them loud enough that you hear him. And, hopefully, you'll say them back.
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eternalslover · 5 months
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Bullet train incorrect quotes:
Y/N: I made you a bracelet
Tangerine: You know, I'm not really a jewelry person
Y/N: Well, you don't have to wear it-
Tangerine: No, I'm gonna wear it forever. Back off.
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venusthepirate · 2 years
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“Could be Ebola. They bleed from their eyes.”
“Ebola ?”
“I’ll smell.”
“Don’t smell it.”
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sugarpenchant · 1 year
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tangybug · 9 months
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bullet train + text posts (18/?)
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cat--boy · 1 year
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maria is always so right.
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arysbruv · 5 months
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Brotherly help
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The new assassin on the block, you had been tasked to a quick mission with the infamous Lemon and Tangerine. Unbeknownst to you, you accidentally gain a crush on one of the brothers, so what else can you do other than enlist the help of the other one?
Pairing: tangerine x reader
Warnings and whatnots: Jealous!Tangerine
You had a dilemma. A dilemma that included being paired with a set of twins who were incredibly skilled, one of which you had the misfortune of crushing on.
You were a relatively new assassin, but you quickly made your way up in the ranks. That was why you were paired up with Tangerine and Lemon.
It felt odd, to work with them. They were nice, but you always had a sick feeling with them like your heart dropped to your stomach when you saw them. Especially when you saw him. You’ve only worked with them once, during the Bolivia job, but the feeling still remained. Eventually you deduced the problem.
You had a massive, giant crush, on Tangerine.
“Everything alright there?” Lemon asks you as you sat next to him, tapping your fingers on the table. The bullet train moved fast, making you nauseous. It didn’t help that you were sitting face to face with Tangerine. His leg was practically brushing yours and he didn’t even seem to care! He seemed fairly calm.
“Yeah I’m fine… Motion sickness ya’know?”
Tangerine raises an eyebrow at you, his eyes piercing into your soul like he knows you’re lying. You give him a tight lipped smile, before looking at the White Death’s son.
“Is he gonna be okay?” You ask, trying to change the topic.
“He should be awake in a few hours. Nothing to worry about, love.”
You hated it. Hated when he called you that. Hated when he called other girls that. Love. What a disgusting word.
“I need to go to the washroom.” You say, standing up curtly and making your way to the washroom, hoping that they thought you were going off to vomit your guts out; maybe you were.
You stood in the washroom, staring yourself in the mirror before splashing your face with water. You grip onto the sink, before looking up and promptly screaming at the man in the mirror.
“Goddamn it Lemon! Don’t sneak up on me like that!” You shout.
Lemon doesn’t say anything, only closing the door behind him and locking it. You tilt your head at him.
“Is everything alright? Why are you so off? You’ve been like this since the start of the job.”
You should’ve known he would’ve found out. You should’ve known from the day he called you an Edward. He was weirdly good at reading people, even more so with classifying them as Thomas The Tank Engine characters.
“I’m fine…”
“Don’t be a Diesel.”
“I’m not being a Diesel!” You scoff.
“Then?”
You stare at Lemon, who looks at you expectantly. You try to think through all the possible possibilities that could happen if you told Lemon you had a crush on his brother. Would he tease you? Be disgusted? Eh, who cares, you’ll still get your money, and what’s a bit of humiliation.
“I may or may not have a thing for… Tangerine.” You spill out.
Laughter fills the washroom and you can feel your cheeks heat up. “Shut up!”
“You have a crush on my brother? Oh my, it was so obvious. Please, is that what you’re all worked out about?” Lemon asks, regaining composure.
“Yes, now shut it. I don’t need to embarrass myself any more than I already have.”
“Well now wait a bit, I can help you with this situation. To be honest, I do think Tangerine has a slight thing for you, only he’s too ignorant to realise it… So let me help you.”
“Are you serious?”
“Deadly.”
“And how exactly are we gonna get Tangerine to realise he has feelings for me?” You ask, suspicious. Lemon gives you a smile.
“We make him jealous.”
This was an utterly stupid idea but it might just work. It was easy; laugh and smile at all of Lemon’s jokes and stories and just be unusually touchy with him. Still, you felt like an idiot doing this and Lemon could sense it. Lemon had asked if you were okay with it and you had agreed. So here you were, executing this dumb plan.
You walked back to the table where the Tangerine was sitting, your arm looping with Lemon’s and your other hand, caressing his shoulder. Lemon sat down first, and you squeezed in next to him. Tangerine looks at the both of you with a confused and suspicious expression. He turns his attention to you.
“Are you alright love? You spent a long time in the washroom.”
That pet name again. You try to hide how flustered it made you feel. You smile at him.
“Yeah, just some stomach problems. The train is going too fast. Thankfully, Lemon gave me some medicine to help me get through it.” You give a sickeningly sweet smile to Lemon, hoping your time learning to act will come in handy here.
“I see.” Tangerine says, glancing at Lemon and then you. His face was slightly unreadable, but you can see a hint of confusion behind his eyes.
“Well when you both were doing God knows what, the White Death here still hasn’t woken up. So, I think we have a long while until he’ll be up.”
“Well, what should we do then? To pass the time?” You ask, looking at Lemon.
“Ah well, there’s nothing much to do is there? We can’t exactly walk around since we don’t want the little old son over there to die.”
You giggle at his comment, and in the corner of your eye, you could see Tangerine’s hand flex. He doesn’t say anything, continuing to observe the both of you. You still sat unnecessarily close to Lemon and you could see it was taking affecting Tangerine.
“Oi, why are you lot sitting so closely together?” Tangerine finally asks. A part of you is happy that he finally asked. His voice sounded deep and his eyebrows furrow.
“Are we?” You say, moving a bit further away from Lemon but still sitting relatively close to Lemon. Lemon looks at you. “I mean, is there a problem with sitting this close with him?”
Tangerine bites the inside of him cheek. “No. I’m just asking why you both are all over each other.”
That was fast. Was he already jealous?
“We are not!” You scoff, leaning back and crossing your arms over your chest.
“You are!”
You glance at Lemon, who gives you a quick thumbs up from under the table.
“What the hell- What the hell is happening with you both? What are you doing?” Tangerine asks, glancing under the table.
Lemon gives you a look before excusing himself and leaving to the washroom. You look at Tangerine who stares at you.
“What? Are you not gonna follow him? Hm? Make out with him?” Tangerine asks, a hint of anger and jealousy in his voice.
“Even if I did, why do you care?” You ask, tilting your head at Tangerine. Was Lemon right? Did Tangerine actually like you? You thought Lemon was only joking.
Tangerine didn’t answer your question, looking away from you.
“Tangerine. Tell me. Why, why in the world do you care? Why do you care what I do?” You press, leaning over the table, staring into his eyes. You feel the embarrassment and nervousness rise through you but you were too close, you couldn’t just give up.
“Tangerine. Why would you care? Tell me.”
“Because I like you alright!” He finally admits, aloud. He looks back at you.
“Is that what you want to hear? I like you. Goddamn it, I think I’m in love with you and I can’t stand the fact that you seem to like my brother more than me so just shut it and piss off.”
Your eyes widen, as you lean back in your sit. Tangerine also leans back, realising what he had just said. You didn’t know what to said. He had just admitted it.
“&#!@ I shouldn’t have said that.” You hear him mutter under his breath. “Just shut it alright, if you like my brother I won’t get in your way but-“
“I like you too.”
His eyes widen when you say that, he looks at you, confused and bewildered.
“Guess the cat’s finally out of the bag hm?” Lemon says, appearing beside the both of you. Tangerine looks at Lemon before finally realising what had happened.
“You cheeky bastard.” He says to the both of you.
You give him a smile. “Oh well, it was the only to make you admit it, no?”
“Great, now that’s all dealt with, please hold your flirting until the end of the mission.” Lemon says to the both of you.
Tangerine smiles. “You know for a fact you can’t stop me.”
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lovincherries · 1 year
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Choose Me
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Aaron Taylor-Johnson
IF YOU DO NOT WANT TO READ THE BACK STORY, THERE WILL BE A NOTE WHERE THE SMUT STARTS!
summary: you want Aaron to choose you, so you show him why you're worth choosing.
a/n: I'M BACKKKKKK this is probs gonna flop because i haven't written anything in so long, but i couldn't resist!!! this feels like a mess, i'm sorry i just had to get this idea out of my mind. Maybe I'll make a part two if this does well?
warnings: smut, cheating, light daddy kink, and very light, almost non-existent breeding kink.
word count:
I did get inspiration from @sgrantsgf, her writings heavily inspired my choice to make his wife a bitch!!!
You met him on the set of Bullet Train, you were his hair and makeup artist (not that he needed any makeup at all). He was so easy to talk to and so handsome. You couldn't resist his charm, not that you tried whatsoever. It was innocent flirting at first, him complimenting you on small things and you receiving it with a smile. Then, you became friends, him confiding in you with the problems in his marriage, his unhappiness in life, and that's when you knew whatever was going to happen with him was going to hurt you in the long run. You would confide in him too, with your dreams to travel, your hopes, and aspirations in life. He asked for your number soon, concealing his need to talk to you with the excuse that if there were ever an emergency, he would personally want to let you know that he wasn't coming. He would text you and call you whenever the nights became too lonely so far away from home, you relished in his late-night raspy voice, wishing it was so desperately next to you.
"It's late Aaron," you managed to whisper out, your own exhaustion peeking through your soft voice. Your bed felt especially lonely tonight as you two talked about whatever crossed your mind, it amazed you that you both always found something to talk about.
"I know love," his voice rasped out, "I just can't get enough of you."
Those were the type of comments that caused your heart to race out of your chest, with both excitement and a tinge of guilt. Guilt for falling for a married man, but when you thought of who he married, all the guilt left your mind.
"Then come to my room," you said before you could think about it, taking the implications of this phone call to be officially inappropriate. You could excuse everything else, pretend that it was just friendly conversation, but what you said was beyond that.
"Okay, I'll be there in five minutes," he said before abruptly hanging up. Any ounce of tiredness left your body at the sound of the phone call ending. You had to pinch yourself to make sure that what just happened was real, that it wasn't some crazy, sleep-induced hallucination.
Your body shot up from your hotel bed, rushing to go to the mirror. You looked at your messy hair and oversized pajamas with horror, you were so unprepared for him to agree to some meaningless flirty remark that you didn't even mean to make.
You did your best to comb your unruly hair, brushing your teeth just in case anything happened, which you secretly hoped that it would.
Your heart dropped to your stomach when you heard the fast pace knock on the door. Every square inch of your skin buzzing with excitement for what might come. You did your best to stop your hands from shaking as you opened the door, but you couldn't stop a small gasp from escaping your lips when you saw him standing there. His brown curls were unruly in the best way, and his blue eyes filled with an emotion you had never seen in them before.
smut starts here
"Hi," you spoke quietly, unable to look away from the masterpiece that he was. You opened the door to invite him to step in, fearing that anyone would see him come into your hotel room at 12:30 am. You knew the cast members spoke about the glances you gave each other, this would give them that much more of a reason to talk, to tell his wife what you two had been up to. You quickly shook the thought of repercussions out of your head, solely focusing your attention on him.
"Hey, love," he said, stepping in, a slight smirk finding itself on his face. He saw the heat rise on your cheeks, noticed how your breath picked up in pace after staring at him for a few moments, but most of all he noticed your nipples poking through the thin fabric of your shirt. He closed the door behind him as you looked up at him with your big, innocent, doe eyes. All he could think about were those eyes staring up at him as his cock was shoved in your mouth. He could not stop himself, his hand grazing your jaw, forcing you to look him in the eyes. His stare was intense, his blue eyes held a hunger in them.
"I'm surprised you came," you spoke, leaning into his electrifying touch. It wasn't till he pulled his hand away that you realized how much you liked it, how much you wanted his hands all over you.
"Don't be, I've been waiting for you to ask me for weeks," he said. Your thoughts raced; he wanted you just as much as you wanted him? It was unbelievable to you that he could want you in the same way. His face was slowly leaning down to yours, his nose nudging your own.
"Really?" You asked, your voice husky with something primal. His lips nudged yours, a soft gasp falling from your mouth as he backed you into the corner. His hands now tracing the curve of your waist, holding you merely inches from his body.
"Mhmm, thought I was about to have to beg for it," he whispered against your lips. You couldn't stand the teasing anymore; you connected your lips finally. All the late-night phone calls, all the innocent brushes, and all the not-so-innocent comments finally came to a head. The feeling of him pressing against you was like euphoria, his lips soft, but his kiss hard and needy. As soon as you pressed your lips into his, he pressed back and hard. Your hands left your side in a frenzy, all thoughts about his wife and kids leaving your head, lust being the only thing that remains. Your hands found his face, the rough stubble a stark contrast to your soft hands. His lips felt like home, warm, and inviting. His hands gripped your shirt tightly, bunching it up in a fist. The warmth of his body radiated against yours.
He pressed you against the wall, freeing his hands from your shirt, he lifted your leg and wrapped it around his hips. The stretch burned the muscle on your inner thighs, but you could not find it in you to care. You wanted him as close to you as possible, needed him to be close to you. You let out a gasp when you felt the outline of his cock against your folds, the size of it evident through his pants. His lips detached from yours, kissing his way down your jaw. The action sent tingles straight down your vagina, which was surely soaking at this point. You wouldn't be surprised if there were a wet spot on his boxers. His other hand grasped one of your breasts, hard, to the point it was almost painful, it should have been painful.
He began to suck on your neck lightly, hard enough to leave a light bruise. He was mumbling incoherently; you could only pick up bits and pieces of what he was saying.
"All mine," he said, lust deepening his voice, "want everyone to know." The words only heightened your excitement, even if they weren't true. Even if everyone couldn't know what you had, you couldn't find it in you to care at this moment. You only cared about him and what he was about to give you.
The sensation of his lips on your neck left you feeling restless, empty, only one thing could ease the burning in the pit of your stomach.
"Bed," you managed to mumble, "to-to the bed." Your voice begged, you sounded pitiful but you didn't care about that.
He lifted you up, carrying you to your bed. He put you down gently, his hips finding their home in between yours. He rutted into you, his cock rubbing against your clit despite the clothes. Your hands found their way to the hem of his shirt, seemingly on their own. You lifted it up, needing to be close to him. He pulled away from you for the first time since the kiss started, pulling his own shirt from his body. The sight of his torso was that of a Greek God, he was gorgeous.
"So pretty," the words fell from your lips before you could think about it. He laughed, which left you feeling embarrassed at what you said.
"I should be telling you that," he said, his fingers grazing your burning cheeks as you looked up to him. He leaned down to you again, his lips grazing your ear.
"I'm so hard for you," he groaned into your ear, "it aches." He grabbed your hand, letting it graze his cock. Your hands found the band of his sweatpants, pulling down the soft material to reveal his cock.
You gasped at the size, not expecting it to be so big. He laughed again at your reaction, but you were too focused on his size to begin to care about being embarrassed. You grasped it, slowly stroking his cock, your thumb grazing his sensitive tip. A gasp left his mouth as you smeared the pre-cum all over his cock. It was now your turn to laugh at his reaction, holding the power in your hands.
His hands found their way to the hem of your shirt now, lifting it over your head as your breasts bounced at freedom. You were now left in your small pajama shorts that left nothing to the imagination. You continued to stroke his cock and enjoyed watching him struggle to hold his composure. The veins in his neck flexed as you gripped his dick harder.
You leaned up closer to him, scattering light kisses all over his neck. You wanted to leave bruises like he did on you, but you knew you couldn't which only left a sour taste in your mouth.
"N-no more," he moaned out. Tearing your hands away from him, you feared that he didn't want to do this with you anymore. He stood up from the bed, his cock bouncing against his stomach as he did. He grasped your thin shorts and panties in his hands, tearing them away from your body quickly.
He stood there, staring at your completely naked body as you looked up at him. You crossed your legs and lightly held your breasts to try and hold onto some sort of modesty that was long gone. The burning of your cheeks only came back 5 times more intense now. His hungry stare seemed to crawl under your skin, leaving you clueless as to how you should feel.
He began to stroke his cock at the sight of you, a deep hunger on his face as he looked down at you.
"You think you could take me right now, y/n?" He asked, a sadistic hint behind the tone of his voice. You could feel the slickness between your folds, the agonizing lust that settled in the pit of your stomach. Without saying a word, you opened your legs to him, proving that you could. You brought your own hand down to your folds, beginning to circle your sensitive clit.
"Y-yes, Aaron," you moaned seductively. Your eyes shut tight at the intense feeling of your clit, your mind going blank from pleasure. It wasn't till you felt his presence above you, till he ripped his hands away from your clit, till he brought his lips to your fingers, licking the slick that was stuck to your fingers.
"So good," he moaned at the taste of you. His own hand now replacing where yours once was, circling your clit harshly.
"I think you could take me too," he said roughly grabbing his dick to slide in between your folds. The feeling of his hot cock against your smooth folds had you feeling insane. You jutted your hips against his in hopes that he would go where you wanted him to be.
"I want to take my time," he said softly, his hands grazing your body. It left you feeling mad at him for being so close, yet so far at the same time. You tried to move your hips once more, but he held them down. His cock sat in between your folds, not moving an inch as he admired you. He brought his lips down to your breast, sucking on your nipple. The sensation caused your hips to jut up, hips tip grazing your entrance. You whined out in need, need for him to be inside of you.
His lips on your breasts only caused you to need him more, need him inside of you.
"Please, please, please," you begged, not recognizing your own voice. You brought his head up to yours, attaching your lips to his, in hopes that he would listen to your plead. His tip was right at your entrance, and in his moment of weakness, you lifted your hips enough to where he sunk into you. You moaned at the feeling of him inside of you, ready for more. He pulled away from your lips, his forehead now resting against yours. He was trying so hard to control himself, to not hurt you.
You moaned in his ear; he couldn't hold himself back anymore. He plunged further inside of you with a determination you had never felt before. You had never been this full before. You gasped at the mixture of pain and pleasure.
"S-so tight," he stuttered out as his hips moved, plunging in and out of you. All semblance of control long forgotten the only thing he could think of was the home that he found in between your legs. "Squeezing me so good," he moaned out.
The feeling of him inside of you was something you had never felt, it was perfect like you were made to have him inside of you. His pace quickened, like something you had never felt before. Your hands scratched his back, not knowing what to do with the pressure that was building in the pit of your stomach.
"Aaron," you moaned loudly, going insane for the pleasure he was giving you. He was now kissing your neck and grasping at your breasts, the pleasure was intense and over-stimulating. You had never, ever felt anything like it before,
Your hands found their way in his hair, a need to grab and hold onto something.
"y/n," he rasped out, "God y/n. Should've done this sooner, never felt like this in my life." He was so obviously pussy drunk on you, and you couldn't help but be proud of the way you made him feel.
"'M gonna cum in you, fill ya up," he moaned out, his words being cut short. The intensity of his thrusts only building the bubble in the bottom of your stomach, his praise only sending you further into oblivion.
"Please," you begged, for what? You didn't know. You wrapped your legs around him, wanting him closer, needing him closer to you. His hand reached down in between where you two met, he began playing with your clit. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head at the pleasure he was giving you.
"Aaron, Aaron, Aaron," you chanted his name in praise of him. No one had ever made you feel this good, ever.
"Cum for me darling, squeeze me," he demanded, his quick pace matching his fingers. Your arousal was seeping onto the covers, a squelching noise coming from where you two were colliding.
You finished with spasms, the bubble in the bottom of your abdomen popping finally. You milked him, wanting him to find his own release too. Your body was limp in a daze as he held your hips up, still fucking into you. Your body was weak and sore from the power of his thrusts, your mind hazy with a finish like you had never had before.
"Finish in me," you moaned out at the sensitivity you were feeling, "please daddy," you begged without thinking of what you were saying, if he would even like it.
His pace picked up even more, if it was possible, letting out grunts and groans of effort as he used your body in the best possible way. You could beg for this feeling every day for the rest of your life,
He finished, thrusting into you, hard. You could've sworn he hit your cervix, pressing right up against it as he finished, both of you worn out by your orgasms.
"Did so good for me darling," he said, waking you up from your light sleep. "Gotta clean you up now."
He slowly withdrew from you, a whine and groan leaving your mouth from the soreness that was already forming. It was only now, with your head clear that you realized what you had done. You slept with a married man, albeit an unhappy one, but he was married nonetheless.
Your whole demeanor had changed, but you didn't want Aaron to see the regret on your face. There was no regret in doing what you had done, but rather, you had fallen in love with him and there was nothing you could do about it now.
taglist:
@kittenlittle24 @dellahalewrites @nananananannerman @psychedelic-70s @vampiregirl444 @chaoticdefendortree @butlersbabe @domaniquessidehoe @pumpkin3-1415 @softmullett @justjacesstuff @defintelynotbreathing @whatstruthgottodowithit @jetva @lunarlovingdreamer @bobbykennedyfan @datsavageavenger @anbanananna @in-love-with-will-byers @bamitzzsam @butlersluvbot @cb97slut @lizzylynch1 @yuxixuu @unmaskthewriter @madsb2300 @yenbennie @stitched-mouth @creativewriter2002 @paigemillz @noparcha @ilovesteveharrington @allierw @girlwholikesghosts @alligator-person @re3kin @fifty.shades.of.H @ur.angle000 @theliterarybeldam @blondemoments4l @babywhoresnop @kairoclerosis @peachyjaeminn @sparklehanii @bubblessugar28 @nini-2009 @worldmadeofmemories @seaweed-orchid @austinbutler17 @everythingisspokenfor @girlblogger2002 @lukanasky @prettyboyswow @gemstone9 @eddiemunsonsgffff @sunsetfreedom05 @cchl @butlerfilmz @yogotti11 @emersxn99 @hot-and-confused @thedepressedhippie @mr-aurum @slutforblueeyes @adoreyouusugar r @styles-canvas @hails-schae @claudia-aa @tubble-wubble @butlerfilmz @lilycherries123
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discodiscodemon · 6 months
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pretty bubbles in the air
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mmiiho · 2 years
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my two favourite fruits some of their poster poses were just pretty cool so i wanted to draw them v below are the ones without the filter
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also just realised i shouldve put the sticker page in lemons jacket but oh well its too late
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ghostyary · 7 months
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i want more movies where everybody just dies so i can pretend they didn’t
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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
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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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eternalslover · 5 months
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Bullet train incorrect quotes:
Y/N: We have fun, don’t we, Tan?
Tangerine: I have never been more stressed out in my entire life.
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venusthepirate · 2 years
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Aaron Taylor Johnson and Brian Tyree Henry respectively saying their code names would be Daffodil and Lavender is >>>
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sghg181 · 2 years
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